Don't Be Afraid of God

I grew up hearing my mom say, “Wait until your Dad gets home!” when I misbehaved, which naturally led me to be elsewhere when he returned from work. Some writers of the Old Testament took the same approach to induce the people of Israel to avoid sin, elaborating on God’s wrath, which we surely want to avoid. For example, the prophet Isaiah warns, “Behold, the day of the Lord is coming, cruel, with fury and burning anger, to make the land a desolation; and He will exterminate its sinners from it” (Is 13:9).

Jesus, through his teaching and healing acts, gave us a very different image of God. Rather than being a harsh judge who is easily angered, God is portrayed by Jesus as a loving and forgiving father who rejoices when his errant children return to him, as in the parable of the Prodigal Son. It is much easier to imagine having a relationship with Jesus’ God rather than a God who is believed to be impatient and quick to punish us.

Fortunately, mystics such as St. Gertrude and St. Teresa of Avila affirmed the immense love of God for us. Ursuline mystic and missionary St. Marie of the Incarnation said, “God has never led me by feelings of fear, but always by a spirit of love and trust.” In our own age, Ronald Rolheiser, OMI, has pointed out that “…in Matthew’s Gospel the first words Jesus speaks to anyone after his resurrection are the remarkable words, Don’t be afraid! … The meaning of the resurrection is precisely that we should not be afraid, particularly not afraid of God.”

Translators of the Bible often use the unfortunate phrase “fear of the Lord,” as in “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). What they are trying to convey is not that we should be afraid of God but we should be awed by God. Yes, God is majestic and glorious; even more awesome, God is loving and merciful. Rather than hide from God, we should seek God with an open and trusting heart.

 

Finding Our Own Center

St. Benedict includes a chapter in his Rule relating to “Tardiness at the Work of God [prayer] or at Table.” It specifies the steps to be taken when a monk arrives late to prayers or meals. “Wow, that’s awfully strict,” you might think. “Why is St. Benedict concerned with such seemingly trivial matters?”

A monastic practice I have yet to master is to be at least five minutes early for any event—with ten minutes being preferable. The main reasons for this custom are to (1) respect others by not keeping them waiting and distracting them with a late entrance, (2) remind ourselves that prayer and community events take precedence over our individual activities, and (3) help us collect ourselves so we can be attentive to what is about to unfold.

Esther de Waal makes a good point in her book A Life Giving Way: Being in our place on time “means, above all, that I have time and space for listening to the Word of God in all the many ways God is reaching out to me. That will be totally impossible if I am always running late, distracted, feeling ajar and torn apart. Benedict is helping me find my own center.”

Being on time is much more than a courtesy to others, as important as that is. Being on time is a practical, concrete way to honor and practice attentiveness—to center our lives on the expectation that our loving God has wonders and insights to share with us. What a shame it would be to miss out on them because we are distracted by our own concerns and desires!

From Meteorology to Miracles

In my class on the Liturgical Year this morning, Sr. Susan Barber commented that everyone in the community must listen to the weather report, because all the sisters at morning prayer were dressed for 80+-degree temperatures that are predicted for today. I commented that if we would study the Bible as closely as we watch the weather reports, we would all be scripture scholars!

It is natural to want to know what the weather will be like because it has such an impact on our lives, dictating the type of clothing we wear, the timing of our travels and our outdoor activities, and how to care for our gardens. Scripture, of course, also has a great impact on our lives if we choose to listen to it, because it reminds us that God loves us, we are one in Christ, and we are called to care for each other and the earth.

Because we are so attuned to the weather, we can use it as a tool to attune ourselves to God’s presence in our lives. When we welcome sunshine, we can also welcome the light of the Son, God with us. When it is windy, we can remind ourselves to allow the Holy Spirit to sweep away all that weighs us down and lead us in a new direction. When it rains, we can be thankful that God the Creator waters the seeds of life within us with mercy and compassion. Cold temperatures can remind us to offer warmth to others, and heat can lead us to offer water to those who thirst.

Even though we tend to be hyper aware of the weather, we generally are insensible to the miracle of the earthly environment that nurtures us. As the Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh says, “Every day we are engaged in a miracle that we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”

May our fascination with meteorology lead us beyond our preoccupation with the weather to an appreciation of the daily miracles of being that are unfolding within us and around us!

Becoming Savvy to God's Ways

Are you savvy to God’s ways?

According to the A.Word.A.Day website by Anu Garg, savvy means “to understand or know; from Portuguese and/or Spanish sabe (do you know?), from Latin sapere (to be wise), and ultimately from the Indo-European sep- (to taste or perceive), which also gave us sage, savant, savor, sapid, and sapient….” 

Fortunately, we have numerous ways to become wise in the ways of God. One is to practice Lectio Divina, which entails savoring God’s word by reading, meditating on, praying with, and contemplating sacred scripture. Fr. Jerome Kodell, OSB, observes that Lectio Divina helps us see as God sees; it helps us put on the eyes of God. Seeing as God sees instead of as we see is surely a path to wisdom.

Another way to taste and see God’s goodness is by receiving the Eucharist, for as Jesus said, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him” (Jn 6:56). God the Creator, Christ the son, and the Holy Spirit share one life, so when we remain in Christ through the breaking of the bread, we too share in God’s life and thus come to a better understanding of God’s ways.

Vincent Van Gogh believed that “The best way to know God is to love many things.” That thought likely should be amended to “The best way to know God is to love all things,” because that is what God does. Loving all things is a tall order for humans, but practicing Lectio Divina and receiving the Eucharist helps us become savvy to God’s way of love and compassion that nourishes all of us, whether we perceive it or not.

The Vowed Life of Creation

As part of my discernment for making final vows, members of my living group and I met with representatives of the formation team to discuss this step. The sisters in my living group were asked to reflect on what has helped them keep their vows over the years. Sr. Elaine Fischer said, “Make a commitment to spend time in nature; it will teach you everything you need to know about living a monastic life.”

Richard Rohr notes that creation was the first scripture, or recording of God’s word, so it makes sense to look to nature to learn how to live out the monastic vows of stability, obedience, and conversion of life. For example, trees stay rooted in one place (stability), but this does not keep them from spreading seeds of new life. An apple tree is obedient to its call to produce apples, although it might prefer to produce peaches. Deciduous trees submit to conversion of life (willingness to change and give up control) by responding to the demands of the seasons—budding in the spring, producing fruit and oxygen in the summer, shedding leaves in the autumn, and resting in the winter. Trees also live a communal life by communicating with each other and providing for each other’s needs through their root system.

It is no wonder, then, that St. Benedict called for monastics to engage in manual labor outdoors, for nature is a great teacher. St. Benedict provided time in the monastic schedule to read not just printed books but also the book of creation. As Psalm 19 says so eloquently,

The heavens declare the glory of God,
     and the firmament proclaims God’s 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.

I am happy to take Sr. Elaine’s advice and spend time outdoors to absorb the knowledge that God’s firmament imparts.

Touch Me and See

Detail from a stained glass window
in St. Giles' Cathedral, Edinburgh

When Jesus appeared to his disciples after being resurrected, he showed them the wounds in his hands, feet, and side. Why weren’t these wounds wiped away when he was resurrected? Isn’t to be resurrected to be made new?

Jesus’ wounds remained part of him, even after he rose from the dead, because a resurrected Jesus with wounds is different from a resurrected Jesus without wounds. Jesus’ wounds are a wellspring of compassion and solace for other people who are suffering. In addition, Jesus would not be who he is, even after resurrection, without the visible signs of the sacrifice he made and the pain he suffered.

The fact that Jesus still had signs of his wounds after being resurrected shows us that attaining fullness of life does not mean our previous experiences have been wiped away; that would mean any wisdom we have attained through our suffering would be wiped away as well. Rather, our wounds are transformed into signs of solidarity with other suffering people, and they serve as a reminder that we are more than what has hurt us. Like Jesus, we will experience death; like him, despite our wounds, we will experience new life in communion with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The Sign of True Friendship

Among the remarkable things Jesus said, there is this: “I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my father” (Jn 15:15).

Friendship is different from a biological parent-child or sibling relationship because we choose our friends, and it is different from a spousal relationship because friendship typically does not include romantic, financial, or co-parenting issues. However, as with other healthy relationships, love is the basis of friendship, and as Thomas Merton said, “Love seeks one thing only; the good of the beloved.”

The friendship we are offered by Jesus is a remarkable gift. It’s not something we earn, yet inexplicably Jesus loves us and seeks our good by inviting us to share in his relationship with his Father.

An appropriate response is gratitude, as proclaimed in Psalm 71, verse 22: “I will thank you, Lord, for your true friendship.” However, if Jesus is our beloved, we also need to seek his good. He told us how to do this: “Remain in me, as I remain in you. … You are my friends if you do as I command: love one another as I love you” (Jn 15: 12, 14).

In a song written in the 1960s, Peter Scholtes said, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.” As it turns out, love is the mark of authenticity not just of our discipleship but of our friendship with Jesus.