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believe, Corinthians, endure, hope, kind, love, patient, St. Paul, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, truth
After arriving home about mid-day on Thursday, I was off again the next evening to conduct a 24-hour retreat. Some would call that very poor scheduling but, as it turned out, it was a lovely way to re-enter from the “time-out-of-time” that was Peru. The topic, Living In Love, could have been easily predicted; it is February after all when all the Valentine candy and flowers can hardly be avoided.
We covered a lot of ground and pondered weighty questions in our time together. We watched the roaring fire that kept the frigid air from overtaking our reflections. We talked about food on our breaks (everyone but me an aficionado of organic prep!) and had done the bedroom laundry by mid-afternoon, re-making the beds with as easy a rhythm as on a Saturday at home. Our day was punctuated with readings from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapters 12 & 13, and I smiled just now to find his words echoing again in today’s lectionary.
It occurs to me that our little band of seekers yesterday was a model of what Paul saw as a way to practice love and grow in love in simple yet essential ways. Here is the crux of the lesson that we took home. You will, of course, recognize it. But read it slowly, perhaps aloud, letting it seep into you and, maybe for the umpteenth time, find a home.
Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude. It does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered. It does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrong-doing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. (1COR 13)
From the mouth of Moses to the gospel of Mark the Scriptures repeat the same message about how we are to live. We hear it today, not in a long diatribe but rather a brief directive about love. When asked what is the first and greatest commandment, we can all likely reply – at least with the short form of “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” The deep impact of what that effort calls out from us, however, is in the almost staccato list of capacities that follows. We are to love God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind and with all our strength. In other words: Give it all you’ve got!
Home again this morning in my own space, I first did what is my usual Sunday morning task: checking my calendar for the week to make sure nothing creeps up on me for which I’m not prepared. I was reminded that there is some creative work to be done and that is a good thing for my spirit. That task done but still in waking mode, I turned to Alan Cohen to find the perfect message for this morning. Perhaps you will find it to be so as well.
I can’t help thinking as I read the lectionary psalm for today (15) how timeless the messages of Scripture often are. As we think of those who might be found “on God’s holy mountain,” we might include “the one who walks blamelessly and does justice; who thinks the truth in her heart and slanders not with his tongue…” (vs.2-3)
We know only two things about St. Matthew whose feast we celebrate today. First, we know him as a tax collector and secondly that he responded to the call of Jesus who approached him with the command: “Follow me,” and later was credited with the Gospel that bears his name. In the time of Jesus, tax collectors were not beloved members of society. It seems that, once again, Jesus was trying to make an important point by calling Matthew to be a disciple – a call that Matthew was unlikely to accept in the unquestioning way that he did. He was making some money, after all, and his job was likely secure. But Matthew got up from his customs post and seems to have never questioned the motives of Jesus or his own response. Clearly, others questioned however! “Why does the teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” they boldly said – not thinking of any transgressions they themselves might have committed. Jesus was clear in his response to these queries. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
It is said that “old habits die hard.” I was aware of that in a small way during the days of retreat from which I returned yesterday. Each morning when I awoke to the sounds of silence one of my first thoughts was of my daily writing task. Since I had announced the 5-day hiatus, I was able with just a grateful breath to simply turn toward the silence and enter the day where the only speaking was in sessions of prayer & reflection on the mystical practices of Sufism. What became the most obvious truth for me swirled around and into every hour of the day in the words of the chant: Wherever I turn, there is the face of God.
Yesterday I spent an uncommon amount of time (for me) on YouTube. I watched the eulogies of Barack Obama, Meghan McCain and George W. Bush during the funeral of Senator John McCain. All were quite different, as are the individuals themselves, but at a moment during the speech of former President Bush I was struck by a rising sensation that I can only express as “love of country.” It was clear to me that in moments of great import, small things no longer have any place. I have known this often in the past year during weather disasters and mass shootings, but this was in some way different. It struck at the heart of how we as Americans are able, perhaps, to agree in times of great division because we recognize what is important at the center of everything. We do not need to be perfect in order to be together; we just need to be willing. We have not reached 100% participation in this truth but yesterday allowed me a glimpse of possibility that has been sorely lacking for us as a country lately.
I had a bit of an epiphany this morning. (Is that possible, or is an epiphany always spectacular?) I was reading the gospel from today’s lectionary – very brief and so familiar – which read:
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
Since our Sophia Center Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday, I have been drawn back several times to thoughts of our future and about the best ways to help people engage in consideration of their spiritual lives. It seems less important these days to dream of large events with nationally known speakers – my fondest hope at our inception. What we have experienced as more useful is the value of deep conversation and building trust in the small groups that find meaning in the exchange of ideas. (Not that I’ve given up hope of major events, of course…) We will continue to seek input for programs and events, of course, and welcome any suggestions.