Meeting Jesus Where We Are

At the end of July, the Catholic Church celebrates a number of holy men and women who had varying relationships with Jesus. Mary Magdalene was healed by Jesus and became his patron and faithful companion; James was one of Jesus’ first disciples; Joachim and Anne were Jesus’ grandparents; and Martha, Mary, and Lazarus of Bethany were his close friends.

An old saying proclaims that you can’t be all things to all people, but that doesn’t apply to Jesus, who enters into relationship with us in whatever way we come to him. Do you need a mother’s tender and healing touch? “He took the child by the hand and said to her, ‘Little girl, I say to you, arise!’” (Mk 5:41). Do you need a father’s faithfulness and forgiveness? “While he [his son] was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him” (Lk 15:20). Do you need a nurturing friendship? “I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father” (Jn 15:15). Are you weary because of life’s demands? “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28).

Whatever form our relationship with Jesus takes, it ends up transforming us into our best selves. After being healed, Mary Magdalene found the courage to be faithful to Jesus through his death and burial and was the first to encounter him after his resurrection. James overcame his desire for power and glory and gave his life to share the good news about his beloved teacher. The hospitality offered by Martha, Mary, and Lazarus led them to recognize Jesus as the Christ and enabled them to directly experience his ability to bring us to new life.

We can turn to Jesus, whatever our needs: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you” (Mt 7:7). However, when we enter into a relationship with him, no matter what that looks like, we need to be prepared to have our hearts opened to a new and more expansive life.

Finding Balance

Checking In

I think of my mind as a tyrant,
a scold that insists I must

      Clean up the kitchen
          before romping with the dog
      Pull weeds in the garden
          before watching the sun set
      Read classic literature
          before diving into a mystery
      Eat cruciferous vegetables
          before indulging in ice cream

When it occurred to me to ask
my mind how it is doing, it said:

                      I’m tired.

         Can you please let body
  and soul sit in the driver’s seat
                  for a while?

I wrote this poem after participating in a “focusing” exercise at a Souljourners spiritual direction training residency. Yesterday, I had an experience of allowing my body to sit in the driver’s seat for a while. Here’s what happened:

I went outside to take a photo of a sunflower. I noticed that the flower bed needed weeding, so I did that. I then went to shake Japanese beetles off the rose of Sharon bushes to feed to the chickens, and noticed that a a nearby tree and bush needed to be trimmed back. As I pruned away, the work my body was doing led me to notice the desire to prune away some of my possessions that are no longer life-giving. An hour later, as the humidity increased to an uncomfortable level and my back started to protest this unanticipated labor, I stopped and headed inside to clean up.

Most of us are inclined to operate out of our head, but letting the body and soul take the lead now and then can offer fresh perspectives and new insights and lead to better physical and spiritual health as well. I believe the mind is inclined to agree, as the poem indicates!

Hospitality: A Benedictine Path to Peace

Although we pray to live out the end of our days in peace, it doesn’t always work out that way. Such was the case for St. Benedict, whose Feast we celebrate today.

As Dom Brendan Thomas explains, “There were two natural disasters that afflicted Benedict in his time. The first was a climate crisis, an extraordinary change of weather patterns. In 536 the sun disappeared for nearly a year behind a veil of dust, shining feebly with a strange blue light, not global warming but global cooling. There were volcanic eruptions, floods and earthquakes, crop failures and famine. Today we mark the death of Benedict around 547, but he lived through a pandemic in his final years. The plague of Justinian from 541-42 is estimated to have killed 30 to 50 million people.”

Given the fear that these events generated, it is remarkable that St. Benedict makes hospitality one of the hallmarks of his Rule. Instead of turning people away from the monastery door during times of famine and plague, Benedict said, “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me (Mt. 25:35). … Great care and concern are to be shown in receiving poor people and pilgrims, because in them more particularly Christ is received….” (Rule of Benedict 53: 1, 15).

St. Benedict formed monastic communities because he knew that we need each other during our time on earth. Those of us who have homes, jobs, health insurance, and full tables might question why we need the homeless, the unemployed, the sick, and the hungry who come to us seeking aid. Perhaps we need them to teach us how to be grateful, how to live simply, and how to take care of the earth that provides us with food and water.

Toward the end of his life, St. Benedict was blessed with a vision in which he saw the whole world gathered up in a single ray of light. He was bathed in God’s light, which encompasses all humans and all creation. When we come to recognize the Christ light not just in ourselves but in everyone we meet, we too will extend hospitality in good times and in bad and will live out the end of our days in peace.

The Healing Power of Listening

A friend was recently visiting his elderly father, who had a broken pelvis and was about to enter into hospice care. For many years, they had an uneasy relationship because of some unfortunate parenting decisions and expectations. However, after his mother died several years ago, my friend started to call his father every morning just to make sure he was okay and to chat a bit. He also traveled for in-depth visits with his father (who lived ten hours away) twice a year.

When they were together in the hospital, his father said, “You know, I think our relationship has gotten better the past several years.” My friend asked, “Why do you think that is?” “Because you listen to me,” he said. He then apologized for an incident that occurred when my friend was in high school.

This story illustrates the wisdom of St. Benedict, who said, “Listen with the ear of your heart.” It is difficult to be open to people who have wounded us, but when we do, space opens up for healing to occur.

Jesus certainly knew about the power of listening and being present to others. The gospels tell us about lengthy conversations he had with Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman. He once asked a blind man, “What do you want me to do for you?” He even engaged the man with the power to condemn him to death, Pontius Pilate, in a discussion about truth that led Pilate to want to release him.

Our judgments and feelings often hinder our ability to listen, but when we can set those aside with the intention of simply listening to another person, the only things required of us are time and patience — the same things that God offers to each of us in abundance. Thus, if we really want to follow the way of Jesus, we need to take time to listen to others, which will help contribute to the healing of the world.

Something in the Heart

On the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, I am reminded of the following quote by opera singer Enrico Caruso, who said that his success could be attributed to six things: “A big chest, a big mouth, 90% memory, 10% intelligence, lots of hard work, and something in the heart.” 

As a fisherman who lugged around heavy nets, Saint Peter likely had a big chest; we know he had a big mouth (“Even though all should have their faith shaken, mine will not be!”); and he certainly relied on his memories of Jesus as he proclaimed the Good News. Saint Paul also had a big mouth (“You foolish Galatians!”). As a scholar who had never met Jesus in the flesh, he naturally relied more on intelligence than on memory. However, both Saints Peter and Paul were indefatigable in their work of building up the kingdom of God, and it was all made possible by something in the heart — a personal experience of the love of Christ. 

Last week in my residency for the Souljourners spiritual direction training program, the following observation by Jennifer Ruffing was shared: “Our directees sense that we respond to them in the same way that God does, so the ground we stand on is the same ground we sense God is standing on — open embrace, love, acceptance, and belief in the other person” (from Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings). 

This calling to respond to others in the same way that God does is not limited to spiritual directors — it is the vocation of all disciples of Jesus, who said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” We need to remind ourselves constantly of God’s loving presence in our lives through prayer, receiving the Eucharist, journaling, gratitude — whatever keeps us in touch with that “something in the heart” that allows us to stand on the ground of God’s faithful love and mercy and offer it to others. 

Impermanence: The Playground of the Holy Spirit

During our recent election of a new prioress at Mount St. Scholastica, we invited the Holy Spirit to be present and guide us in our deliberations. The prayer chant we sang to open our sessions throughout the week was “O God, send Spirit; open us to the wisdom heart of Jesus” by Suzanne Toolan. For our part, each of us in the community had to create space for the Holy Spirit to work by listening to each other, being open to all possibilities, and not clinging to our own preferences. Looking back, it seems clear that the Spirit was guiding us as we elected Sr. Mary Elizabeth Schweiger, a woman of many gifts and much leadership experience, who will challenge us to be true to our Benedictine charism and to make critical decisions about our future life together.

It is human nature to resist change. Our current prioress, Sr. Esther Fangman, has shepherded our community well and led us safely through the COVID pandemic; it would be so much more comfortable if we could maintain the status quo by keeping her in office! However, in setting term limits, we open new pathways for the Holy Spirit to work. As the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hahn said, “Thanks to impermanence, everything is possible.”

I find that thought comforting whenever I am challenged by loss. Cutting down a dead tree creates space for a different type of tree to be planted. The loss of a job can open a path to a more fulfilling career. Even our own impending death frees us to be with God in a different way, without the limitations of an aging body and mind.

Come, Spirit. Free us from clinging to what is and open our hearts to the possibilities that accompany impermanence. Help us join your beloved daughter Emily Dickinson in saying, “I dwell in possibility.”

Revealing God's Face

Helen Keller said, “I believe that God is in me as the sun is in the color and fragrance of a flower — the Light in my darkness, the Voice in my silence.” It’s remarkable to consider that not only is God in us, but our unique characteristics reflect that presence. In my community, God’s sense of humor is reflected in laughter at the dining room table; God’s concerns about the needs of the poor are reflected in the programs we offer at Keeler Women’s Center; and God’s delight in the beauty and diversity of creation is reflected in the variety of trees, flowers, and vegetables that we plant.

One implication of this idea that God is in each of us and is expressed by each of us is noted by Pope Francis: “…all are needed to reveal the Lord’s face.” When we fail to see God’s presence in certain people, our image of God’s face is incomplete — perhaps God is missing an eyebrow, an upper lip, or a left nostril! More seriously, we might not see God’s industriousness if we exclude immigrants from our workplaces, or God’s love of rhythm if we refuse to listen to rap musicians, or God’s desire for adventure if we judge people who go on exotic vacations.

God often resorts to the element of surprise as we receive insights and direction in unexpected ways — perhaps through illness or loss, the discovery of a hidden talent, or an unforeseen friendship. Thus we, who carry God within us, should continually expect to learn new things about ourselves (and thus about God) and be open to the often surprising ways that others reveal God’s face to us.