Showing Up for Class

Perhaps you, like me, see the bare branches of trees seemingly shivering in the winter wind and imagine that they long for springtime. That would be a misuse of our imagination. One reason trees are great spiritual masters is that they accept what is. As Brad Stulberg notes,

"Trees don’t resist changes in the weather, or pretend they don’t exist, or try to power through them. They are acutely aware of them, accept them, and adapt by controlling what they can control. This all starts with paying close attention."

We tend to spend a lot of energy wishing that things were different than they are. We wish it were warmer. We wish it was time to go on vacation. We wish we didn’t have to deal with the difficult aspects of our jobs. We wish our family/community members were more considerate. What if, instead of resisting the parts of life we don’t like, we paid close attention to them, accepted them, and adapted to them? If God’s creative spirit is present in all things, then all things can foster new life in us.

In her book Kitchen Table Wisdom, Rachel Naomi Remen offers the following meditation on accepting what is:

We are all here for a single purpose: to grow in wisdom and to learn to love better. We can do this through losing as well as winning, by having and by not having, by succeeding or by failing. All we need to do is show up openhearted for class. So fulfilling life’s purpose may depend more on how we play than what we are dealt.

Whether the day is frigid (as it is today) or downright balmy (as is predicted for the weekend), let’s accept what is and show up for class!

Surrendering to the Wind of the Spirit

Today in Kansas we are being buffetted by 30-mile-per-hour winds. Although these gusts cannot penetrate the thick walls of the monastery, we cannot escape the constant low, rushing sound they generate. Through our many large windows, we observe with alarm the ferocity with which tree branches are being tossed about. High winds generate a sense of unease for many of us. Isn’t it interesting, then, that the Holy Spirit is often linked with wind?

Although we pray for the inspiration and gifts of the Holy Spirit, I wonder if we are ready to accept the wildness and unpredictability that accompany them. When we pray to the Spirit, we often unconsciously have ideas in mind about what gifts we want and how inspiration should appear. However, God who is manifest in the Spirit cannot be controlled or contained. We are called to let go of our own concepts and desires and go along for the ride, which will take us to unexpected places.

At times in our lives, we need the brisk wind of the Spirit to sweep away the fustiness or mustiness that can settle into the corners of our soul. Can we let ourselves be cleaned out, trusting that despite its unpredictability, the winds of the Spirit unfailingly will lead us to new life?

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

I’ve noticed that humans tend to experience awe most frequently in the presence of grandeur, such as mountains, a sunset, towering trees, or the ocean. Such sources of inspirations aren’t always available, however. At such times, we forget that we can look within to experience awe. I mean…literally. For example, did you know that it takes 17 muscles to control the movement of our eyeballs and that humans on average blink 16,800 times per day? Or that the surface area of the human lungs is approximately equal to the area of a tennis court? Or that 100,000 chemical reactions occur in the human brain every second?

The mechanisms that allow our bodies to breathe, sleep, drink, talk, and ambulate are incredibly intricate, yet we perform them every day without giving them a second thought (until we experience illness, injury, or the consequences of aging, that is). Everything scientists are learning about the complexity of our bodies confirms the insight of the writer of Psalm 139:

I praise you because I am fearfully

and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

If we truly know that God’s works are wonderful, we don’t have to look further than our own bodies to find reason to experience awe and give thanks. As Chief Tecumseh said, “When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.”

How to Live When We Know We Will Die

In the novel I am currently reading, Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson, several characters who are home on leave during World War II know the odds are very high that they will die when they return to the front lines. Although most of us won’t be going to a war zone any time soon, we actually have much in common with these men. Because we are human, we know that we are going to die. How does that knowledge change the way we choose to live?

If we are faithfully living out our vocation as disciples of Jesus, we are in a continual process of reordering our lives differently in response to the one “whose love allows us to bring Love to life each day,” as Sr. Colleen Gibson puts it. If we are faithful in bringing Love to life each day, there is no need to change anything about the way we are living, and we can be at peace with death whenever it arrives.

The Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore noted that “The one who plants trees, knowing that he will never sit in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life.” The one who plants trees understands the meaning of death as well. Although death is the end of this life in the flesh, it cannot contain the love and life we share in Christ, which will bear fruit everywhere and for all time

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Love's Tipping Point

In the second letter to the Corinthians, Paul says, “The love of Christ impels us,” which is true, but it leaves out a step. First the love of Christ frees us from the burden of believing we have to earn love or prove we are worthy of love. When we are able to accept Christ’s love and thus are freed from the perceived need to secure what is already ours, we no longer need to “live for ourselves.” Suddenly the energy we had been directing toward earning love or proving our worth is available to extend Christ’s love to others, and we feel impelled to do so.

 The inspirational people throughout history who laid down their lives for others did so out of the security of knowing God’s love for them. Such security is true power, because there is no stronger force than love, which seeks to free the prisoner and lift up the oppressed. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” The messengers of love—like Jesus, like Martin Luther King Jr.—are sometimes killed by those who fear their power, but Christ’s love cannot be quenched. It rises up again and again in all of us who are freed and impelled by love. Eventually we will reach a tipping point when enough people “harness for God the energies of love” (as Teilhard de Chardin expressed it), and we will discover that the kingdom of God was within us and in our grasp all along.

Standing on Holy Ground

Recently my attention was arrested by this line from Deuteronomy 29:9: “You are standing today, all of you, in the presence of the Lord, your God….” Because God created all things and thus is present in all things, we are always standing on holy ground, which should lead us to a state of profound reverence and gratitude. How is it that we are we not aware that we are always standing in the presence of God? Perhaps it is because, as suggested by Emily Mitchell in her essay “On Becoming a Cat,” we don’t take the time to be present to the life around us:

Human beings look with just their eyes: the shapes and motions graze the optic nerve, but all the while they’re thinking about something else…only a small part of their attention is focused on their surroundings at any given time. Cats, in contrast, are able to watch with their entire body. Whatever they turn their attention to becomes at once the most fascinating object in the world. Practice staring until you, too, experience the magnificence of dust motes or sunlight slanting down a wall…you will find out how much you have been missing all these years. Time will slow and stretch, and each day will seem like several days, the way it used to when you were a child. You’ll wonder how you could ever have been bored for an instant in a world where there’s so much to see—and hear, and smell—in just a single room.

Multitasking is a great impediment to living a whole and holy life. Let us give God the honor of our full attention when we are standing on holy ground—that is to say, always (all ways). Then our lives will truly become a prayer, which is what we are all called to from the moment we came into being.

The Nature of God's Love

Given the worldwide political climate these days, it’s easy to believe that humanity’s foundation is crumbling—that honesty, dignity, and compassion are being subsumed by a tidal wave of greed, fear, and the desire for power. How comforting, then, are the words of Psalm 119: “Forever is your word, O Lord; from age to age is your truth.”

It feels like God’s truth—which is that love will prevail—is being blocked on all fronts right now. However, as Cynthia Bourgeault observes, “We flow into God, and God into us, because it is the nature of love to flow.” It is not possible to stop the flow of love for long. A stream of water that is blocked by a boulder will stream around the boulder and eventually wear it down because that is the inviolable nature of water. It is the same with God’s truth.

At various times in human history, it has appeared as though evil would prevail. Again, Psalm 119 contradicts that possibility, saying of God, “All things are your servants”—which means that even acts stemming from fear, ignorance, greed, and love of power will somehow ultimately serve God’s truth and lead to a clearer channel of love. Jesus’ death and resurrection clearly illustrate this principle. As Bourgeault further notes, “…‘laying down one’s life for another’ is not a loss of one’s self but a vast expansion of it—because the indivisible reality of love is the only True Self.”

To despair is a waste of time, because despair cannot prevail. Instead, we should focus on doing what God asks of us, according to the prophet Micah: “To act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God.” Whether we stumble, walk, or flow is our choice, but the path is always one of love.

Jesus the Koan

The letter to the Hebrews observes that “In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, he spoke to us through the son…through whom he created the universe…and who sustains all things by his mighty word.” The implication is that we no longer have to piece together what God is saying to us, because the entire message is contained in the life of Jesus. As Cynthia Bourgeault notes, Jesus affirmatively answers the question, “Is it possible to live on this planet with a generosity, abundance, fearlessness, and beauty that mirror the Divine Being itself?”

Even though Jesus is the clearest word that God has spoken to us, God’s ways are still a puzzle to us. As Mary discovered from the moment of Jesus’ conception, her son is a koan that must be pondered in the heart. A koan is a paradox we meditate upon to help us see in a new way. Just so, Jesus’ life is filled with paradoxes. Why did the one “who sustains all things by his mighty word” come to us as a helpless infant? How was he able to love and forgive his enemies? How is it that his death led to new life? We won’t find the answers to these questions through reasoning with the mind. As Saint-Exupéry explained, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

God spoke to us through the son, but the only way to receive the message is to see as Jesus sees, with the heart, which frees us to live as he did, with generosity, abundance, fearlessness, and beauty.

Loving Our Neighbors One By One

A lot of the scripture readings this week of the Epiphany season are about abiding in God’s love. One important aspect of trying to live in God’s love is to be aware of our often unconscious tendency to choose who is worthy of being loved. As Thomas Merton said, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody's business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy."

It is natural for us to encounter “kindred spirits” in our lives, people we connect with easily, those who share our interests and respond to our needs. They add sweetness to life. However, we need to be careful not to cling to them so tightly that we shut out other people who don’t seem as worthy of being loved—those who behave badly or who we may find tedious or uninteresting. In her book The Art of Loving, Chiara Lubich offers this challenge:

               Since we live in time, we must love our neighbors one by one, without holding in

               our heart any left-over affection for the brother or sister met a moment before.

               It is the same Jesus, after all, whom we love in everyone. If anything left-over remains,

               it means that the preceding brother or sister was loved for our sake or for theirs…

               not for Jesus.

If we believe it is God who breathes life into us, then every person is a manifestation of God in some way. If God deems that we ourselves merit love, then everyone merits love. Let us go forth with an open heart, remembering “It is the same Jesus, after all, whom we love in everyone.”

A Legacy of Affirmation

Sister Mary Blaise Cillessen, a member of Mount St. Scholastica who died on December 30, had a long and productive career since making her monastic profession in 1946. Just imagine all she accomplished as a teacher in elementary schools for 16 years; as music instructor, director of development, and director of alumni at Donnelly College; as music instructor at Mount St. Scholastica College; and as registrar and associate dean at Benedictine College. However, as Mount sisters and her family shared stories about her after her death, Sr. Mary Blaise’s professional accomplishments were seldom mentioned. Rather, what was remarked on time and again was her kindness and tactfulness, her uncanny ability to remember names of family members/students and details of their lives, and her encouraging words.

The following lines from the opening song at Sr. Mary Blaise’s funeral, All Are Welcome by Marty Haugen, describe her life well:

Let us build a house where all are named,

their songs and visions heard

and loved and treasured, taught and claimed

as words within the Word.

Sr. Mary Blaise gave people the gift of remembering their names and stories, listening to their songs and dreams, and affirming them as words within the Word of Christ. It was a beautiful use of her life, and a reminder to us that our acts of attention and kindness ultimately are more important than any professional accomplishments we might achieve.

A Word for the Year

One fresh approach to making new year’s resolutions that I learned from Abbey of the Arts, a virtual global online monastery (see https://abbeyofthearts.com) is to choose a word that will be my focus on in the coming year—“Something to nourish me, challenge me, a word I can wrestle with and grow into.”

I considered choosing the word “balance,” but then I came across this statement by Christine Valtners Paintner:

In St. Benedict’s description of humility, he says the sixth step is contentment. Contentment helps us let go of our expectations for what might be and to rest in the grace of what is. Finding contentment with this moment is a very monastic practice and opens us to the possibility of joy.”

The past two and a half years have included a lot of change for me as I sold my house, found a new home for my cats, entered the monastery as a postulant, transitioned from working at a job to being a student, began to learn how to live in a community, became a novice, completed my canonical novitiate year, made first profession of vows, moved from the formation house to the monastery, and transitioned from being a student to editing new monastic and medical publications. Now that I’ve completed those years of intense change, it’s time to “rest in the grace of what is” and explore what contentment means: being present to what each moment brings, releasing desires and expectations, entrusting the direction of my path to the Spirit, and being open to joy. Exploring contentment is more than enough to nourish and challenge me and is a word I hope to grow into in the coming year.

Whatever word comes to define your life in 2019, may it be a blessing to you!

Implications of a God Who Creates

There is not a lot we definitively know about God, but through the ages, one truth is continually affirmed, as summarized in Isaiah 45:18-19:

Thus says the Lord, the creator of the heavens, who is God, the designer and maker of the earth, who established it, not as an empty waste did he create it, but designing it to be lived in: I am the Lord, and there is no other. I have not spoken in secret, from some place in the land of darkness; I have not said to the descendents of Jacob, “Look for me in an empty waste.”

What we are certain about God is that God creates. From that truth flows other logical assumptions we can make about God: God creates carefully. God designed creation to be lived in. We all can hear God speak through what God creates. We should not look for God in an empty waste, for the God who creates is not to be found there.

What does this information say to us as we begin a new year?

• If God creates, we are also called to create—if not artistically, then through the life we fashion via the choices we make. To create requires contemplation and time. What must we do to provide the space and time we need to create in a careful way?

• We have been invited to live in creation, which implies appreciating it, exploring it, and being a partner with it to sustain all life. How will we awaken to the wonders of creation this year and use the wisdom it offers to make sure future generations will be able to live here too?

• What is God saying to us in creation, and where/in whom do we find the place of light from which God speaks?

God makes all things new, which is a great source of hope. We are invited to join God in making all things new, for as Daniel Berrigan said, “If you want to have hope, do hopeful things.” Here’s to a creative new year!