The Challenge of the Ascension

My favorite depiction of the Ascension of Christ is by the German painter Hans Süss von Kulmbach. All we see of Christ are his feet dangling from the top of the frame as he ascends; I am amazed that the disciples below were able to stifle the urge to jump up and grab his ankles — either to try to pull him back down to earth or catch an express flight to heaven! Only Mary has her hand half lifted, as if to wave goodbye to this son of hers who is always flitting off somewhere.

In his book The Holy Longing, Ronald Rolheiser describes the importance of ascension in the paschal cycle. After an experience of death and the reception of new life, we undergo a time of readjustment to the new and grieving the old, but then we must let go of the old so we can receive a new spirit for the new life we are already living. The challenge of ascension for us is this: “Do not cling to the old, let it ascend and give you its blessing.”

Although Jesus’ disciples often didn’t understand what he was trying to teach them, it appears that they trusted Jesus’ promise that his Spirit would always be with them, because they didn’t try to cling to him as he ascended. We, too, are challenged to trust that when we let go of the things that die, no matter how much we loved them, we will receive a new spirit of life that will bring us joy, purpose, and wisdom. May we follow the example of Jesus’ first disciples in supporting each other in our grief and periods of readjustment and trusting that we will receive the new spirit that has been promised to us.

Sticking To Our Job

On one occasion in the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, 6-year-old Calvin makes this observation: “It’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning.”

Most of us believe that God must surely judge others as we do: bad people deserve punishment and good people merit a reward. It can be infuriating when God offers mercy to one who has done wrong — just ask the brother of the Prodigal Son. In fact, God has quite a reputation for being merciful. In Psalm 69, after detailing the evil deeds of his enemies, the psalmist implores God, “Keep a full record of their guilt; none of your mercy for them!”

Thomas Merton observed, “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 love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbor worthy.” This is what Jesus did, and that is what he called us to do.

It’s hard to overcome our tendency to be judgmental, but God doesn’t need our input in that regard. God wants us to be “religious” in the root sense of religio — which, as Fr. Richard Rohr points out, means to connect, to bind back together. And that can only be achieved through love, not through bolts of lightning.

Biding Our Time

It’s easy to understand why many people name Spring as their favorite season. Every day new sprouts emerge from the ground, trees wear a misty light green halo, and pops of yellow, pink, and purple flowers draw the eye and cheer the heart. Earth is entering its fecund season as we marvel at baby turtles, bee swarms, and thunder showers. New life is at a crescendo.

Where was all this new life during the quiet, dreary days of late fall and winter? It’s difficult for us to feel the drumbeat of life when browns and grays dominate the landscape and the songs of birds and insects are hushed. Yet nature accepts that it must bide its time in the tomb of the earth, just as Jesus did, just as we all must do one day, before we can rise to new life.

Periods of drought, darkness, and fallowness may affect us at any time, regardless of the season of the year. Although we find these episodes trying, they teach us how to bide our time and provide reassurance that new life always emerges in God’s time and often in unexpected ways. As Peter Gzowski wrote, “We need spring. We need it desperately and, usually, we need it before God is willing to give it to us.” Yet spring always comes, and the grooves that patience carves into our souls create reservoirs of hope to nourish us when death approaches.

As trees and plants produce seeds with trust that they will result in new life, and as Jesus was confident that he would rise three days after his death, we too can trust that our life will ever continue in a new form — we who were created in God’s everlasting image. Every year, Spring reminds us of this. Let us rejoice and be glad!

Eastertime Incarnational Wisdom

We generally focus on the incarnation of God at Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of Jesus. However, Easter is also filled with stories about God’s physical being as Christ, in the form of the resurrected Jesus.

This physical manifestation of God walked, talked, and broke bread with two people on the road to Emmaus. He was taken to be a gardener by Mary Magdalene. He appeared to a group of his disciples and said, “Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have….” He then asked them if they had anything to eat, and upon giving him a piece of broiled fish, he took it and ate it in their presence (Luke 24: 36-43). Later, this incarnated Christ cooked breakfast on the beach for his friends.

Why was it so important that, after the death of Jesus, he should again take on flesh after his resurrection? Why not appear as a disembodied spirit, a voice from a cloud, or an image in a dream?

In his book The Holy Longing, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser sheds some light on this question. He explains that God took on flesh because God, having created our nature, respects how it operates and thus deals with us through our senses. Therefore “God takes on flesh so that every home becomes a church, every child becomes the Christ-child, and all food and drink become a sacrament. God’s many faces are now everywhere, in flesh, tempered and turned down, so our human eyes can see him.”

If God respects the fact that we humans interact with the world through the senses, through our physical body, then we should do the same. Often it seems like we try to approach life through our mind alone, but the body offers us wisdom we can only attain when we pray through our breath, attend to others through our listening, appreciate beauty through our eyes, recall memories through smells, and comfort others through our touch. As we age and our body becomes less functional, we should still honor the lessons it offers about humility, endurance, diminishment, and gratitude.

The first creation story in Genesis says that after God created humans, he looked at what he had made and found it “very good.” It is very good that we are physical beings, at least during our short time on earth. Let’s take advantage of every opportunity to know God through the taste of a ripe peach, the smell of the soil in spring, the sight of a loved one’s face, the sound of the wind, and the way our hands can create art, food, and music. It makes good sense, after all.

And the Award Goes To....

Our world is consumed by “Top Ten,” “Hall of Fame,” and “Best of” lists. Millions of people watch popular shows such as the Academy Awards, Emmy Awards, Grammy Awards, and Tony Awards, not to mention the Olympics; colleges and universities vie to be on U.S. News and World Report’s annual list of the best educational institutions; a select number of athletes are admitted to their sport’s respective hall of fame annually; and newspapers are full of cultural “best of” lists at year’s end.

Given that St. Benedict says, “Your way of acting should be different from the world’s way” (RB 4:20), it follows that Benedictine monastics and oblates don’t share the world’s preoccupation with receiving recognition or landing on a “best of” list. However, I recently discovered an exception to the Rule. Every year, the Global Listening Centre compiles a list of the Top 25 Outstanding Women Listeners. Now, being on a list of the top outstanding listeners is an achievement all followers of St. Benedict’s Rule should strive for!

The very first word of the Rule is “Listen,” which indicates its importance in a Benedictine life of prayer, community, hospitality, and discipleship. Although the Global Listening Centre’s most recent list of outstanding women listeners doesn’t include any Benedictine women, those on the list nonetheless are living out Benedictine values of peacebuilding, wise leadership, communal prayer, welcoming the stranger, human rights, care of earth’s resources, education, and artisanship. Listening is key to creating a world where the practice of love of God and love of neighbor leads to peace and fullness of life for all.

St. Benedict quotes Romans 12:10 in saying that monastics “should each try to be the first to show respect to the other.” And because the best way to show respect is to listen, becoming an exceptional listener is something we should all aspire to.

Hearing God's Voice in the Psalms

St. Benedict gives a lot of specific instructions in his Rule about how and when the psalms are to be prayed. To this day, chanting the psalms is the primary form of prayer used by Benedictine communities at Liturgy of the Hours. Why do Benedictines place such an emphasis on praying the psalms?

Sr. Irene Nowell sheds some light on this question in an article from Benedictines magazine:

“Because the psalms are the Word of God, we come to them daily with the same question: What is it that God wants to say to me today through this text? We have a right to expect to hear the voice of God in the psalms — every day. Every day that word will be different — sometimes challenging, sometimes comforting, sometimes the still small sound of silence, sometimes the roar of the devouring fire. Every day, as we listen to the psalms, we listen to the voice of God.”

I confess that my mind often wanders during Morning and Evening Prayer. However, Sr. Irene’s words are a call to attention; if God is going to speak to me today through the psalms, I don’t want to miss what God has to say! If I have the right to expect to hear the voice of God in the psalms, I also have the responsibility to listen to those words of challenge, comfort, instruction, and even the sound of silence, which can be very rich.

The circumstances of some of the psalms may be hard to relate to, because many of us have been blessed in that we have never directly encountered war or been a refugee, for example. There are plenty of people in the world who face those circumstances every day, however, so perhaps in those psalms God is inviting us is to a greater level of compassion.

More often than not, though, the psalms touch on emotions that are common to all humans — awe, gratitude, mourning, jealousy, desire, fear, betrayal, temptation, and pride, to name a few. These feelings touch every aspect of our lives. How good, then, that God helps us navigate these complex emotions by guiding, comforting, and challenging us in the psalms each day.

As St. Benedict says, we just need to listen and incline the ear of our heart.

You Only Learn By Listening

It’s always a pleasure to pick up echoes of St. Benedict’s teachings in unexpected places. 

Nihar Malaviya —the CEO of Penguin Random House, the largest book publisher in the U.S. — grew up in Rajkot, India, and moved to the U.S. when he was 13. He doesn’t come from the Benedictine tradition, but listen to what he said in a recent interview:

“Coming to the country at a young age basically meant I had to completely change my worldview. I went from somewhere where this was very important to somewhere where this completely different set of things was very important. That created in me a respect for looking at different perspectives and the ability to take those in to shape my thinking. I like to learn. And you only learn by listening.”

St. Benedict also valued learning, prescribing set times for the monks in his community to read each day. And like Mr. Malaviya, he knew that you only learn by listening, for the first words of his Rule are “Listen and incline the ear of your heart.” Apparently, St. Benedict took to heart the words of God recorded in scripture regarding the transfiguration of Jesus: “This is my beloved son. Listen to him.”

Listening to Jesus calls us to completely change our worldview and transition from a societal regard for wealth, power, status, and self-interest to God’s regard for generosity, humility, service, and love of neighbor. As we listen to Jesus, can we take in his perspectives to shape our thinking and use it as a model for the way we live?

As our Lenten journey continues, may risk entering more deeply into the attentiveness of prayer so we can hear what Jesus is saying to us through Scripture, the Rule of St. Benedict, and our neighbors, as well as in our own heart.