Nothing Can Stump God

In Advent, Jesus is compared to “a shoot that will come up from the stump of Jesse” (Isaiah 11:1). Generally when we come across a tree stump, it appears gray, inert, and lifeless. However, after a tree is cut down, some species can resprout from the roots or from the stump itself. If the sprout produces enough leaves, it can eventually grow into a full tree. According to the American Climbers website, many trees have this ability to resprout as a way to regenerate after forest fires.

This image of a stump sending forth a shoot is a reminder that we should never doubt God’s ability to generate new life in us and for us. The Psalms include many passages in which the author pleads for God to act now. We are impatient with God’s timing, but the period of waiting has an important function as new life is nurtured in the darkness. The stump that appears to be dead is harboring new life.

When we are “stumped” by losses, grief, or disappointment, it’s difficult to believe that new growth can occur within us. However, as the poet Jessica Powers observed:

“Yet who am I to minimize the worth

of what a stump is likely to bring forth?”

Advent: Yesterday, Today, and Forever

It might seem as though the season of Advent is unchanging year after year. After all, we erect the same Advent wreath; recite the same prayers about longing for God’s presence; sing the same songs inviting Emmanuel to come; and struggle to protect a small space of silence in the midst of relentless pre-Christmas preparations and holiday gatherings.

A closer examination of this liturgical season reveals that Advent is indeed different every year because we are different every year. It’s likely that some of the people we journeyed with last Advent are no longer with us, and their absence has left a mark on us. It may be that we are dealing with Infirmities we didn’t have last year — a bum knee, a dimming of vision, a worrisome test result — that gives new meaning to the passage from Isaiah about the lame leaping like a deer and the eyes of the blind being opened. Perhaps the birth of a baby within our extended family in the past year has given new meaning to the humility and vulnerability of Christ who came into our world as an infant.

We will always need Advent, because the ways we are called to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ are different from year to year. Whether we are singing with joy and thanksgiving or trying to see light in a dark season of our lives, Advent calls us to be attentive, to trust in a loving God who wants to be present to us, to be patient as we await the fullness of God’s kingdom to become manifest.

Whatever Advent holds for you this year, may you find a blessing in it.

In Your Light We See Light

When we gather for Morning Prayer on these late November days at the Mount, the stained glass windows in our Choir Chapel are shrouded in darkness. As I watch in the silence between the chanting of psalms, the outline of an angel’s wing begins to  emerge … and then St. Benedict’s bald pate begins to glow as he stands beneath the stars and a crescent moon … and then the steps of humility begin their ascent as they pick up the morning light. By the end of prayer, all the familiar colors and images of the windows have been revealed. 

As Thanksgiving approaches, it occurs to me that our blessings are sometimes hidden in murkiness, much like the stained glass images before the coming of dawn. Anxiety, fear, and sadness can obscure the way God is working in our life. Many of the symbols in our Choir Chapel windows provide keys to unlock an awareness of our blessings. For example:

• New branches emerging from a tree stump remind us that God is always clearing the way for new growth in our life

• Hands that are releasing a shower of grapes remind us to be grateful for the food and drink on our table

• A chalice and host remind us that we are nourished and strengthened through the gift of the Eucharist

• A small red devil poking St. Benedict with its pitchfork as he kneels in prayer reminds us that trust in God helps us overcome the things that bedevil us

• An angel with its finger on its lips reminds us to tune out the noise that keeps us from hearing God’s voice

My prayer for you this Thanksgiving is that your blessings come into focus in the midst of any challenges you may be experiencing. Let us say to God with the writer of Psalm 36: “We feast on the riches of your house; you give us drink from the stream of your delight. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light” (Ps 36: 9-10).

That's Our Job

I got a haircut on November 5, and when I mentioned I was anxious about the outcome of the election, my hairdresser said, “Well, one thing’s for sure; half of the country is going to be unhappy.”

Unfortunately, I landed on the unhappy side of the divide.

I won’t go into the many reasons why I am heartsick. Suffice it to say, I fear what the results of the 2024 election will mean for those who are poor, sick, or elderly, as well as for immigrants and the environment — for all the vulnerable.

After the 2004 election, when the writer Toni Morrison was describing to a friend her depression and inability to work on a new novel, he interrupted, shouting: “No! No, no, no! This is precisely the time when artists go to work — not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. That’s our job!”

The same thing could be said of those who are disciples of Jesus: This is precisely the time when Christians must go to work to feed the hungry, house the homeless, care for the ill, and visit prisoners — not when everything is fine, but in times of suffering. That’s our job!

Many people say that in difficult times, we must trust in God. Sr. Mary Lou Kownacki has an interesting take on that: “As for trusting in God, I think it’s the reverse. I believe God is trusting in us. God is trusting that in giving us the gift of life, we will bear good fruit. That we who claim to be on a spiritual path will accept our responsibility to co-create the kind of world that God envisioned. It’s up to us, each one of us, to be faithful to God’s trust and do everything in our power to bring in the day when ‘justice and mercy embrace.’ The purpose of prayer, Saint Teresa of Avila told her sisters, ‘is good works, good works, good works.’ And I believe her.”

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Adrienne Johnson Martin added, “It is the weight of the work that helps it bend.”

The Talmud advises, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” Nor are we obligated to work alone. The weight of our work, when combined with that of others who stand beside us, will help bend our world toward justice. And the community we build in doing that work will be a liberating force for all of us, on whichever side of the divide we find ourselves.

Good Heavens

The psalms are full of references to the heavens. For example, we commonly chant, “I see your handiwork in the heavens, the moon and the stars you set in place”; “The heavens praise your wonders, O God”; and “Your fidelity stands firm as the heavens.”

Before the advent of electricity, the heavens were a source of awe, imagination, and navigation. Today, we generally stay indoors at night, and only an exceptional event such as a solar eclipse or the rare chance to see a comet or the Northern lights draws us outside to gaze at the heavens.

I once read that those of us who spend hours every day looking inside the small frame of a computer screen should rest our eyes by looking outside a window at the horizon from time to time. Not only does this prevent eye strain, but it widens our perspective and reminds us that there is a world outside the screens of our electronic devices.

Gazing out at the world and the heavens is a good practice for other reasons. Seeing the vastness and immensity of God’s creation humbles us and reminds us that this self we are so attached to is tiny and fleeting. Despite our insignificance, we can rely on God’s faithfulness and enduring love and enjoy the beauty of creation in which we are immersed. And then we can join the psalmist in proclaiming, “With a heart full of thanks I proclaim your wonders, O God.”

The Way to the Heart of God

It’s my opinion that people who have too much to do need a patron saint. I nominate St. Gerard Majella, (1726-1755), a Redemptorist who was credited with bilocation — that is, the ability to be in two places at once!

I’m not so sure that bilocation is the answer to the problem of being overcommitted, however. It’s likely similar to multitasking, which gives us the illusion of getting more done but actually wastes more time than it saves and has a detrimental effect on our concentration and creativity.

Many people today believe, as writer Elizabeth Bibesco suggested, that being in a hurry is one of the tributes we pay to life. Our world is full of so many beautiful things to see, places to visit, books to read, food to eat, and people to befriend that we try to cram in as much as we can — and as a consequence, we often don’t fully experience anything.

It’s telling that St. Gerard was not a Benedictine, the only order that takes a vow of stability. What our life lacks in width, it makes up for in depth. Each moment that we fully attend to leads us to the heart of God and relieves us of the anxiety that we might be missing out on something that is happening elsewhere.

As Imogene Baker, OSB, said, “Be where you are and do what you’re doing.” When we attend to the present moment, wherever we happen to be, we encounter the presence of God. To paraphrase St. Benedict, “What could be sweeter to us than the voice of God calling to us? Behold in his loving kindness, the Lord shows us the way to life.”

Where God Wants To Be Met

Spending time with others is key to developing a good relationship. If we want to be in a relationship with God, then, it makes sense to set aside a regular time to pray. However, we can’t expect God to conform to our prayer schedule. As Joyce Rupp learned from her spiritual director, “Meet God where God wants to be met, not where you plan for it.”

What if God wants to be met not in the silence of a church but in the midst of a challenging conversation? The 15th century Indian poet Kabir suggests as much in his poem, “I Had to Seek the Physician:”

“I had to seek the Physician because
of the pain this world caused me.

I could not believe what happened
when I got there — I found my Teacher.

Before I left, he said, “Up for a little
homework, yet?” “Okay,” I replied.

“Well, then, try thanking all the people
who have caused you pain.

They helped you
come to me.”*

Prayer has many benefits, but perhaps its greatest gift is to instill in us an alertness to God’s presence at all times — especially when we least expect it.

*From Love Poems from God by Daniel Ladinsky. New York: The Penguin Group; 2002.