Holy Ground Is Not Weed Free

Jesus’ parable about weeds and wheat growing in a field together (Mt 13:24-30) made me think of a movie I saw recently called The Biggest Little Farm. This documentary chronicles the efforts of a couple to create an organic farm and their belief that diversity is the key to a healthy life, which means that everything belongs in the world and has a role to play, even things we consider to be nuisances or pests.

This belief was put to the test when gophers (which are useful for aerating the soil) became too numerous and ate the couple’s crops and coyotes started killing a large number of their chickens. Instead of killing the coyotes, the couple trained dogs to protect the chickens. The coyotes then began feeding on the gophers, which controlled the overpopulation of this rodent.

A commitment to diversity means that we value all life that God has created and do not try to eliminate certain people/animals/plants because they inconvenience us, require us to share our resources, or are not to our liking.

Consider this: God may be trying to feed us with plants we consider weeds. Here in the Midwestern United States, we consider purslane a weed, yet it is highly nutritious, offering us antioxidants, minerals, and omega-3 fatty acids; in fact, calorie for calorie, purslane is one of the most nutrient-dense foods on earth. Similarly, people we have no use for or find annoying may offer us gifts and lessons we would never obtain from our friends.

Having a weed-free life should not be our goal. We will be much healthier, both physically and spiritually, when we allow diversity to flourish in our lives instead.

Knocking on Heaven's Door

Jesus told his disciples, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you” (Lk 11:9), which reminded me of the following story, adapted from The Song of the Bird by Anthony de Mello:

A woman approached the door of heaven and knocked. “Who’s there?” asked a voice from within.” She replied, “It’s me, Lord! Please let me in!” “There’s only room for one here,” the voice said. Saddened, the women left to ponder this message. Later, she returned to the door and knocked again. “Who’s there?” asked the voice from within. “It’s you, Lord,” the woman replied. Immediately the door swung open.

What can we learn from this mini parable? For one thing, “Ask, and it will be given to you” does not apply to our desire for wealth, security, fame, or power. Rather, it is when we align ourselves with God—God’s intentions, God’s creativity, God’s love for all beings—that we will receive what we need to experience God’s life and share it with others.

A second interpretation is that there is no room for us in the kingdom of God when we separate ourselves from the body of Christ. Further, the parable helps us understand that when we recognize that Christ dwells within us, there is no need to knock at the door of heaven, because it is always open to us, even in the midst of our life on earth. As with so many things, we just need the eyes to see what is already available to us.

A Grandparent's Prayers and Dreamings

Today is the feast of saints Anne and Joachim, which is the Church’s equivalent of National Grandparents’ Day. Tradition says that this couple—the parents of Jesus’ mother, Mary, and grandparents of Jesus—were upright and faithful people who struggled with infertility and turned to God in prayer. Upon being blessed with a daughter, they dedicated her to God in the temple.

     Saints Anne and Joachim keep us in touch with the humanness of Mary and Jesus, who, like us, were part of a family and were shaped by their interactions with their parents and grandparents. Anne and Joachim reinforce the critical role of grandparents: to model faithfulness and perseverance in difficult times and the importance of turning to God when we are in distress. In dedicating their beloved daughter to God, they also taught all of us that we are not to cling to the people we love but allow God to lead them on their own journey.

     This day of remembrance of saints Anne and Joachim reminds me of the refrain of the song We Are by Ysaye M. Barnwell:

     We are our grandmother's prayers

     We are our grandfather's dreamings

     We are the breath of our ancestors

     We are the Spirit of God

     May saints Anne and Joachim bless all grandparents today and give them the strength to be a source of constancy, love, and guidance for their progeny.

The Hospitality of Attentiveness

Many people have told me that the scripture passage about Jesus’ visit to the house of Martha and Mary (Lk 10:38-42) is one of their favorite Gospel stories. I suspect that is so because it captures such a human moment—resentment when others don’t seem to be working as hard as we are.

It is noteworthy that when Martha complains to Jesus that Mary is not helping her, Jesus does not discount the importance of hospitality. However, he highlights that how we offer hospitality is a choice. When we have guests, we can choose to rush around in an attempt to make everything perfect (which gives us an ego fix through the compliments we receive), or we can offer guests the hospitality of our full attention. When it is time to eat, we might need to ask our guests for their help in setting the table and dishing up food, but that invitation to assist in meal preparations allows them to feel useful and part of the family, which is another aspect of hospitality.

I like to think that Martha wasn’t always as stressed as she appeared to be in this Gospel story. Sr. Mary Faith Schuster thought so too, as she wrote in one of her poems:

We keep ignoring

the most important thing in Scripture

when Jesus dropped in for coffee

at Bethany.

The words were gentle

and the laughter lovely

and the wind blowing

so kindly over the waters

outside somewhere

for there was always

the sound of wind and water

and the long sweet laughter

of being happy.

Behold how they love one another

is another thing so easy to forget

in the scramble for doing

something with our lives.

Remembering Sr. Philomene

Maya Angelou once said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This truth certainly applies to Sr. Philomene Glotzbach, who died on July 18.

Sr. Philomene epitomized Benedictine hospitality; it’s hard to believe she could have welcomed Jesus himself with any more warmth and wholeheartedness than she offered to those who came through the doors of Mount St. Scholastica. She had a grandmotherly spirit in that she delighted in the people she met and was very encouraging and affirming. This characteristic was a wonderful gift for her primary school students, because it gave them a foun-dation of being valued and cared for. It was a gift to the community’s postulants and novices as well, as I can attest.

In addition to beaming at me every time she encountered me in the hallway, Sr. Philomene lifted my spirits, and those of the community and our guests, through the flower arrangements she placed on each table in the dining room in the summer and fall months. This simple act (which entailed more work than we can imagine) added graciousness and beauty to our daily lives and reminded us of the goodness of God’s creation.

We will never forget how Sr. Philomene made us feel—like we are beloved children of God. I’m happy that she is now basking in the beams of God’s love herself.

An Attitude of Hospitality

I’m currently visiting my friend Martha in St. Louis, where the local gas company is installing outdoor meters at all the houses in her neighborhood, requiring much digging of holes in yards and streets. Consequently, the roads and sidewalks are dotted with orange utility signs, flag markers, and cones, piles of gravel, stacks of metal plates, and bobcat vehicles. The project is noisy and inconvenient, and it is easy to grumble about it.

My attitude changed when, as I took a walk this morning, I saw a young boy squatting near a utility worker, who was patiently answering the boy’s his questions as he dug a hole. In the midst of doing a hot and dirty job, the man responded to a child’s curiosity with grace and what could even be termed hospitality—welcoming the boy into his work space, as it were. We usually think of hospitality as welcoming guests into our home, but hospitality is an approach to life that we can practice wherever we are and in the midst of whatever we are doing.

Encountering this worker also reminded me that I rarely think about the efforts of people who labor to keep gas and electricity and water flowing so all of us can live comfortably. When I write up my weekly prayer list of needs for healing, special intentions, birthdays, and death anniversaries, I need to add an intention for the public workers I generally take for granted—fire fighters, police officers, prison employees, utility workers, parks crews, and city administrative workers, for example. It’s the hospitable thing to do.

The Design of God's Heart

In anticipation of the feast of St. Benedict tomorrow, July 11, I have been pondering the following observation by Sr. Joan Chittister: “No on knows much about Benedict and Scholastica as historical individuals, true. But what we do know is that they stood in the midst of a decaying society and refused to go into decay with it.”

Like saints Benedict and Scholastica, we are living in a time of blatant greed, corruption, and misuse of earth’s resources, and much of our society is responding by seeking escape through entertainment and various addictions. However, we can choose a different response by walking the path of humility instead of self-aggrandizement, simplicity rather than consumption, and compassion rather than disdain.

It’s hard not to fret about the harm being done in our world, but we can take comfort from the words of Psalm 33, which says, “The Lord brought to nought the plans of nations; God foils the designs of peoples. But the plan of the Lord stands forever; the design of God’s heart, through all generations.” As with saints Benedict and Scholastica, we can seek to live in right relationship with God, each other, and the earth and trust that the design of God’s heart will prevail.