Meeting God Where We Are

As Advent approaches, let’s consider this observation by Sr. Melannie Svoboda: “Advent tells us Jesus is coming, yes, but paradoxically, it also says Jesus is already in our midst! We just need to know how to look for him.”

Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the message we learned in childhood that Christ only comes to us when we are engaged activities universally acknowledged as holy, such as being baptized or receiving Holy Communion. Kilian McDonnell, OSB, offers a different viewpoint in his poem In the Kitchen, about the visitation of the Angel Gabriel to Mary. As McDonnell pictures it, when the angel appears and Mary is overshadowed by the Holy Spirit, she is not at her prayers but is in the process of wiping up some water she had just spilled.

God, who has full understanding of our messy human lives, doesn’t wait for a few pristine moments to come to us; God meets us where we are, in the midst of our daily activities. Therefore, if you don’t think you have a prayer of getting any housework done in the weeks leading up to Christmas, perhaps it’s time to reconsider. When you look with the eyes of Advent, you might, like Mary, encounter God while doing the laundry or loading the dishwasher!

Grounding Ourselves with Music

Monday night, after a long week filled with activity, I just wanted to sit and listen to something beautiful. Fortunately, the Benedictine College Chamber Singers and Kansas University Bales Chorale were performing a program of sacred music at the Abbey church in Atchison. Given the current ugly political climate in the U.S., it was soul stirring to be reminded that humans can create such beauty just with the sound of their voices and heartening to realize that many students choose to spend their time doing just that. Those of us who attended the concert became a community through our common experience of quieting ourselves and listening to this remarkable music.

Many people are concerned about how to navigate family gatherings in the coming holiday season because of fervent and differing political views. Music reminds us that there is something we can enjoy together, whether we invite the musicians among us to give us a song, groove to some old favorites while cooking, or ease tensions by playing light and calming background music during a holiday meal. Music takes the focus off our separate selves and bonds us with the others who are listening with us.

Furthermore, meditative music can help us stay centered during the Advent season, when much of the world around us is already engaged in a frantic schedule of Christmas celebrations. Gentle songs such as “My Soul in Stillness Waits,” Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella,” “Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming,” and “Maranatha” can resound in us throughout the day like a mantra. I’ll pardon your humming if you pardon mine.

If you’re feeling like you don’t have a prayer of getting through the coming holiday season, take time to ground yourself with music. After all, those who sing pray twice!

God's Handwriting

Last week in the prison, I led a discussion focused on Christ the King, in anticipation of the approaching solemnity. As we contemplated the nature of God’s kingdom, I asked the following question: “Jesus said, ‘Behold, the kingdom of God is among you’ (Lk 17:21). How do we know God’s kingdom is among us?” I expected to hear responses such as the presence of justice or peace but was surprised by the very first response of one of the inmates: “Beauty.”

Many of us fail to appreciate God’s presence in the beauty of nature, art, music, and our loved ones because we are surrounded by such beauty all the time. Prisoners, on the other hand, live in a bleak, sterile environment and are separated from their families, which gives them a keen appreciation of any bits of beauty that come their way, such as a few flowers that bloom in the spring, the appearance of a stray cat, and unexpected acts of kindness. The handful of inmates who earn the opportunity to participate in an art class create remarkable drawings, which is not at all surprising, because the hunger for beauty that represents God’s spirit welling in us and among us cannot be contained.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God’s handwriting.” And as the inmates reminded me, the message of God’s handwriting is that the kingdom of God is among us.

Pneumatophores of God's Spirit

I learned a new word this week in my class on the desert mothers: pneumatophore. Plants that dwell in waterlogged or tightly compacted soil and thus are oxygen deprived develop pneumatophores, that is, specialized “breathing roots” that rise above the water or soil so the plant can literally breathe.

What does that have to do with the desert mothers? When worldly cares and concerns threaten to choke the breath of God out of us, wisdom figures rise above all that crushes the spirit, enabling them to take in God’s love and breathe it into the rest of us until we, too, can rise up to become pneumatophores for others.

The desert mothers and other wisdom figures use humility, simplicity, silence, solitude, and prayer to rise above the greed, pride, ambition, and selfishness that cuts us off from the breath of God. When we are feeling breathless because our false self is sucking God’s spirit out of us, let us turn to the wise women and men who can enspirit us, whether they lived in the deserts of Egypt in the fourth century or are in our very midst today. With their help, we too can rise above all that leaves us gasping for inspiration and become pneumatophores of God’s indwelling spirit.

God of the Future

We are approaching the end of the church year, which will culminate with the Feast of Christ the King on Sunday, and our Scripture readings at mass are relaying grim stories of persecution and torture, visions of beasts and devastation of the earth, and stern warnings to be ready when the master returns. What are we called to do in the face of these dire admonitions and predictions?

Today’s gospel reading (Lk 19: 11-28) gives us clear instructions: “A man called ten of his servants and gave them ten gold coins and told them, ‘Engage in trade with these until I return.’” In other words, use the skills and resources entrusted to you and be faithful to the work you have been asked to do. Period.

But that seems so simple. And boring, honestly. Yet what is apt to yield the most fruit: tending to the needs of others and of the earth through our work as educators, health care providers, counselors, gardeners, administrators, housekeepers, cooks, technicians, and so on, or using our imagination to reap anxiety and dread about what the future will bring?

Do we really expect the God we meet in the future to be any different from the God we experience today—the shepherd who sustains us with mercy, love, and forgiveness? Civil rights activist Ralph Abernathy said, “I don’t know what the future may hold, but I know who holds the future.” The more we come to know God through our everyday encounters within the body of Christ, the more we can live our way into a joyful future through the joyful, faithful acts we perform today.

Letting Creation Shape Our Vocation

Impressionist painter Claude Monet said, “I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” For him, God’s call—God’s voice—was expressed through flowers, and because he listened, we hear the echoes of God’s voice as well through the beauty of his paintings.

Psalm 19 affirms that creation itself has a voice:

The heavens declare the glory of God,

and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.

Day pours out the word to day,

and night to night imparts knowledge.

Not a word nor a discourse whose voice is not heard;

Through all the earth their voice resounds,

and to the ends of the world, their message.

Creation is declaring the grandeur of God. Do we listen to the invitation of stars and trees, stones and water, flowers and animals, to be in awe of God’s wonders and let this invitation shape our vocation? Do we honor the messengers of God’s praise by safeguarding the habitat of the natural world and not stilling its voice through exploitation and overconsumption?

As St. Francis of Assisi reminds us, we are all called to praise God by letting our own lives speak of God’s goodness in kinship with our Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Brother Wind, Sister Water, Brother Fire, Sister Mother Earth, and Sister Bodily Death. Let us take time to listen and attend to their message.

God's Hospitality

In the commentary on the Rule of St. Benedict that was read today at morning prayer, Sr. Aquinata Boeckman used the phrase “the hospitality of our God.” The psalms often remind us that everything we have is a gift from God, but I had never before considered that reality from the perspective of God offering us hospitality.

Persons who are skilled at offering hospitality welcome us into the warmth of their home, make an effort to consider our every need, provide delicious food and drink, and spend time visiting and recreating with us. God offers us all this and more. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “True hospitality is giving the best of yourself to your guests.” God not only spreads a table before us with the marvelous fruits of creation but offers us the best of Godself by welcoming us into that space where God dwells in loving relationship with Christ and the Spirit; as Jesus said, “Where I am you will be” (Jn 14:3).

Joan Chittister has noted, “Hospitality is simply love on the loose.” Because God’s love is always on the loose, it makes sense that God is constantly offering us hospitality. Perhaps that is another meaning of the phrase “The Lord of hosts”! At any rate, it is up to us to be thoughtful guests by offering gifts and thanks to our eternal host and emulating God’s remarkable hospitality by extending it to others.

Second-Guessing God

Psalm 100 says, “Know that the Lord is God.” That instruction seems simple enough. However, do we really let God be God, or do we second-guess God’s actions and intents? This attitude emerges when we wonder things like “Why did God make mosquitoes and ticks?” These creatures are part of a balance of life that we cannot comprehend because we can’t see beyond the inconvenience and disease they cause to humans.

I recently watched a documentary called The Biggest Little Farm, about a couple who bought some land that had been ruined through harmful farming practices and sought to bring it back to life. They were insistent that every creature had a role to play in a balanced and healthy ecosystem, a belief that was tested when coyotes killed hundreds of their chickens and gophers killed many ground crops and saplings. This couple might easily have wondered why God created coyotes and gophers. However, as it turns out, gophers perform a service by aerating the soil as they burrow; it is only when there are too many of them that problems develop. After the couple trained a dog to protect the chickens, the coyotes began hunting the gophers, and balance was reestablished.

Knowing that the Lord is God requires trust that there is a method in God’s seeming madness. We are asked to step back, see that we are just one piece in the bigger picture of the universe, and believe that in God’s design everything ultimately works for the good of all.

Using Our Voice

Why is it important to praise God every day? Is this something God desires?

I don’t believe God desires anything from us except that we become loving people. Nonetheless, offering praise is important because of how it changes us. As singer Patti Page notes, “Your voice dries up if you don’t use it.” If we stop praising God, we forget that God is the source of all our blessings. We start to take the wonders of creation and divine providence for granted. We begin to believe that we must  depend on ourselves to attain what we desire, so we either become proud and arrogant or overworked and overburdened.

Offering praise and being thankful are closely linked. Chief Tecumseh wisely observed, “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.”

Lift your voice in praise and thanks today. Don’t let your voice dry up!

Practicing Zeal with Gentleness

In his letter to the Romans, St. Paul says, “Do not grow slack in zeal.” St. Benedict also counsels us to foster good zeal with fervent love (Rule of St. Benedict, 72:3). So how do we go about fostering good zeal, and what is it exactly we are to be zealous about?

Psalm 112 gives us a clue, for it begins, “Blessed the one who fears [is in awe of] the Lord.” When we begin to grasp the awesome nature of God, whose creativity and capacity for love and mercy is beyond our comprehension, we are energized and want to share this good news with others. Being in relationship with God becomes a priority in our life, and as Fr. Meinrad Miller pointed out at mass today, when we prioritize God, we will in turn adopt God’s priorities. According to Psalm 112, those priorities are to be gracious, merciful, and just and give lavishly to the poor.

St. Benedict defines good zeal as the following:

• Being the first to show respect to the other

• Supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior

• Earnestly competing in obedience to one another (i.e., service)

• Placing the needs of others ahead of one’s own desires

• Loving God, whom we hold in awe; loving our directors/guides with humility; loving our companions without seeking anything in return

• Preferring nothing whatever to Christ

We may not immediately equate good zeal with mercy, justice, generosity, respect, patience, service, reverence, love, and devotion. They seem like such gentle qualities. Yet consider these words from Chapter 78 of the Tao te Ching: 

Nothing in the world

Is as soft and yielding as water.
Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible,
Nothing can surpass it.

The soft overcomes the hard;
The gentle overcomes the rigid.
Everyone knows this is true,
But few can put it into practice.

May we not grow slack in zeal—or in gentleness.

Judgment as a Conduit of Grace

Judgmentalism is a tough nut to crack. I can remind myself daily that, as St. Benedict says, we are to welcome others as Christ; I can affirm that God’s image is present in all people; I can humbly acknowledge that judgment is God’s job, not mine. Then, minutes later, I may find myself criticizing, say, certain government officials for greedy, oppressive, and exploitative acts—thereby engaging in unloving behavior myself even as I condemn it in others. As Karen Casey and Martha Vanceburg observe in The Promise of a New Day, “Criticism is second nature to us, and it does an injustice to both giver and receiver.”

In segment 1 of the first season of the podcast “Another Name for Everything,” Fr. Richard Rohr addresses the human tendency to judge in a unique way. Basically, he suggests that being judgmental is itself a conduit of grace, for “I get to see every day how I am not loving, that I need to plug into the greater source. I myself am not capable of being nonjudgmental, so I must rely on mercy, choose grace, and surrender to love. You don’t do that unless you see nonpresence [of Christ] in yourself.”

Try as we might not to judge others, we will fail. We are human and thus imperfect. Rather than berating ourselves for our failures, we can choose to be vigilant, training ourselves to recognize when we slip into judgment and using it as an occasion to recall God’s mercy for ourselves and others, to seek to respond to the people we would judge with grace, and to surrender to God’s inexplicable love for all humanity despite our imperfections.

As with so much of life, it comes down to the humility of knowing and accepting that God is God and I am not. Scripture often reminds us of this, as when Paul says to the Romans, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are God’s judgments, and how unsearchable God’s ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord?” (Rom 11:32-34). Are we willing to trust God’s ways, even when they don’t make any sense to us, or will we have the hubris to substitute our judgment for that of God? We can make that choice, of course, but in doing so we do an injustice to ourselves, for we thereby cut ourselves off from participating in God’s rich and fecund life of mercy, love, and grace.

From Tragedy to New Life

Although all the saints have much to teach us, I am most in awe of those like St. Alphonsus Rodriguez (1533-1617), who became a Jesuit lay brother after the death of his wife in childbirth, followed by the death of his two children. As Robert Ellsberg remarks, “He had responded to tragedy by opening his heart to God.”

Most of us respond to tragedy by getting angry at God, asking, “Why did you let this happen?” We don’t seem to be able to grasp that suffering is not just part of the human condition, it is also part of what it means to be God. The freedom that God chose to give all creation, so that we aren’t just God’s subjects but are part of God’s life as co-creators, means that God suffers too in the face of destruction and pain. As St. Alphonsus intuited, we can seek healing and consolation from God precisely because God suffers too—but, as we know through the death and resurrection of Jesus, God is also able to transmute suffering into new life. Different life, to be sure, different from what we have known and loved, but still filled with goodness and promise.

Let us be grateful to St. Alphonsus and all the saints who have shown us that we can trust God to make all things new despite the tragedies we experience during our life on earth.