Who Can See the Face of God?

Lately I’ve been entertained by a Facebook group called “Things with Faces.” Participants post photos of ordinary objects or structures that have the appearance of faces — for example, misshapen vegetables, wood grain, buildings, coffee foam, garden tools, toast, or cooking implements. It’s amusing and also likely says something about our inclination to see our human likeness in the world around us. Once you become attuned to seeing faces in your environment, they start showing up everywhere!

We also can become attuned to seeing the face of Christ in the world around us — we just have to learn to recognize it in the joy of a toddler at play, the compassion of disaster relief workers, the tenderness of a mother giving her infant a bath, the generosity of trees that share nutrients with their neighbors,  the healing touch of physicians and nurses, the exuberance of guests dancing at a wedding, the life-giving rain that quenches our thirst, and the patience of friends who truly listen to one another.

Jesus said, “I will be with you always.” Doesn’t it make sense that he would choose to become immersed in the world so we will always be able to recognize his presence around us? If you look for the face of Christ with trust and confidence, you too will start seeing it everywhere. Who can see the face of God and live? Thanks to the coming of Emmanuel and the ministrations of that divine oculist, the Holy Spirit, all of us can see the face of God and not only live but thrive with the companionship of Christ who is always with us.

The Age-Old Call to Listen

Many young people (and older people too) seem to have lost a sense of purpose and belonging these days and consequently are awash in depression, anxiety, and loneliness. As a society, we no longer give much of our time and attention to fostering the formation of friendships and providing opportunities for rites of passage that allow us to explore our interests, test our strengths, and instill purpose through service to others. Today’s generation typically experiences the important developmental milestone of the mythic “hero’s journey” in a virtual fashion through video games.

I was heartened recently to learn that some video games are now being designed to help people learn the tools they need in the quest for a meaningful life. For example, the premise of the video game “Sky: Children of the Light,” is that all the stars were once united in a great light, but when darkness came, many stars
fell out of the sky. The goal of the players is to “help the star spirits return home … you will need compassion for humanity, timeless wonder, and light within your heart to guide your way.” Importantly, players receive encouragement and affirmation as they test their skills; they have a goal of serving others; and they can form relationships by teaming up with other players around the world.

The way that earlier generations embarked on a hero’s journey was very different. Many people were tested early on and without much preparation through marriage/child rearing at a young age, illness, family responsibilities, the experience of discrimination, and/or the challenges of living in times of war. Some of today’s young people will experience those things too, even as they are immersed in a culture of gun violence. It’s encouraging, then, to know that a mechanism they can relate to (playing a video game) is available to teach them about the courage, inner strength, friendship, and compassion they will need to face the challenges they will encounter.

Although technology can be put to good use in this context, we all need to be willing to respond to the crisis facing so many people today by being available to them and, as St. Benedict instructs, “Listen with the ear of your heart.” All the technology in the world won’t lessen the need for that age-old and critical component of loving our neighbor. Giving others our full attention signals our belief in their worth and affirms their dignity and purpose as fellow bearers of the Christ light.

Trusting In God's Plans

In about five weeks, my monastic community will be electing a new prioress. Soon someone other than our current prioress, Sr. Esther Fangman, will read the daily passage from the Rule of St. Benedict at morning prayer, lead Monastic Council meetings, welcome guests to Sunday Mass, and say prayers at funeral Masses and other liturgical rituals, among many other responsibilities. In addition, some new members will be elected to the Monastic Council, and some sisters will be asked to shift into different jobs and ministries. 

Artwork by Jay Smiley

Benedictines take a vow of stability, but that doesn’t mean that our lives will never change. On the contrary, we also pledge fidelity to the monastic way of life, which includes being open to an ongoing transformation of the heart or conversion of life. Change is inevitable when you serve the God who says “Behold, I make all things new” (Revelation 21:5).

In her book To Pause at the Threshold: Reflections on Living on the Border, Esther de Waal says, “Insecurity makes certitude attractive, and it is in times like these that I want to harness God to my preferred scheme of things, for it is risky to be so vulnerable. Yet it is this vulnerability that asks for trust and hope in God’s plans, not mine. So I try to learn each time that I am called upon to move forward to hand over the past freely, putting it behind me, and moving on with hands open and ready for the new.”

Sometimes guests ask us who we think the new prioress will be. Although many of us have some thoughts about who we hope might be elected, we all know that we need to be open to how the Spirit leads us in our discernment. Ultimately, we place our trust in God, who says, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

 

God is All in All

We are in the final days of April, which is National Poetry Month. Here is a poem I wrote in honor of the Holy Spirit, the great poet of the universe.

All in All

The sky is my prayer, the birds are my prayer, 

the wind in the trees is my prayer, for God is all in all.

                                                         —Thomas Merton

When my imagination pales,
the evening sky never fails
to unfurl a panorama

 
When my heart dampens
I can trust the house wrens
to greet the dawn in my stead
 
When my feet grow leaden,
gingko leaves galliantly open
to engage the breeze in a dance
 
When my words are insufficient
to praise you, the omnicient
creator of all that I see,
 
May I always find prayer
as close as the very air
of your breath that is all in all.

Praying As Jesus Did

People often wonder what Jesus was doing during the first thirty years of his life, as the scriptures include no mention of his activities after his trip to Jerusalem with his parents around age twelve until he was baptized years later by his cousin, John.

I think that what Jesus was doing during those years was learning how to pray — that is, he was developing a relationship with God and grappling with how to become the person God was calling him to be.

We are privileged to see something of how Jesus’ prayer journey progressed in the description of his baptism, when the revelation of God’s intimate love for him broke into his consciousness; during his temptation in the desert, when he struggled to throw himself in total trust on his Father’s love rather than trust in his own power; and at the wedding feast of Cana, when (although he didn’t feel ready) he was moved by God’s love to enter into the work of building God’s kingdom of justice, love, and peace.

Jon Sobrino says, “We must be part of the building of the Kingdom if we are ever to come to know the Lord.” This truth is illustrated in the post-resurrection appearances of Christ, as David Farina Turnbloom notes in the April 2023 issue of Give Us This Day: “Mary Magdalen and the other Mary first encounter Christ after leaving the tomb, while on their way to bring the good news to the disciples. ‘Go to Galilee,’ the women tell them. Later, the disciples encounter Christ after they have traveled to Galilee. Christ is not found in the empty tomb; he is encountered when his disciples accept their mission and choose to go where they have been sent.”

During the Easter season, it is tempting to remain rapt in the wonder of the empty tomb, but Christ is calling us to go forth and help fulfill in his heart’s desire — to mend what is still broken in this world in whatever way that calls to us. As with Jesus, the relationship we develop with God through prayer will show us the way.

Coming Before God in the Holy Place

When King David wrote Psalm 63 in the desert of Judah, where he fled to escape an insurrection led by his son Absalom, he recalled his encounters with God under more favorable circumstances, those times when “I came before you in the holy place, to behold your strength and your glory.”

It occurs to me that when we come forward to venerate the cross on Good Friday, we are coming before God in the holy place — the place where the depth of Christ’s strength and glory is revealed through Jesus’ willingness to surrender his life so that others might know God’s love and forgiveness.

King David later says in Psalm 63, “Your faithful love is better than life.” Jesus affirmed this conviction through his death, and God’s faithful love was revealed three days later through Jesus’ resurrection.

On Good Friday, our souls too are invited to cling fast to God in times of trial and in the face of death. Because of Jesus’ willingness to suffer for the sake of love, we join him and King David in knowing that God is our strength and that in the shadow of God’s wings we will rejoice.

 

Holy Week Call to Service

Every day at the Mount, we listen to a short reading from the Rule of St. Benedict at Morning Prayer. Today, on Monday of Holy Week, we heard a selection from Chapter 35: Kitchen Servers of the Week. I thought to myself that this week, the title could very well be “Liturgical Servers of the Week.” Holy Week especially reminds us that prayer is called the “work of God,” with extra demands on liturgists, musicians, sacristans, lectors, artisans who prepare the church environment, and those with other liturgical roles.

Every year, Holy Week is challenging for introverts, who don’t like to be front and center as readers or musicians; for persons whose health is diminishing and realize they can no longer perform liturgical roles or need help in doing so; for liturgists and sacristans, who have a myriad of details to attend to; and for all those who are called to set aside their usual schedules to attend practices, offer hospitality to guests, and participate in emotionally demanding liturgies.

At this time, it is helpful to listen to the words of St. Benedict: “The members should serve one another … for such service increases reward and fosters love. Let those who are not strong have help so they may serve without distress…. Let all the rest [who are not engaged in important business] serve one another in love.”

Holy Week offers a unique opportunity each year to meditate on the self-emptying love of Jesus. I once worked with someone who avoided Palm Sunday and Good Friday services because she couldn’t bear to focus on the details of Jesus’ brutal death. Yet we need this annual reminder that God suffered in the person of Jesus so we can know the depth of God’s love for us and realize that God understands and participates in our own suffering. We also need the reminder that, like Jesus, we will participate in Christ’s resurrection. Such mysteries call us to serve one another in love by creating Triduum liturgies that will help us empty our own hearts as Jesus did so we may know the joy of resurrected life with him.