Knowing God

 Holy Father, ...the world does not know you (Jn. 17:25).

"The world does not know you."  The impassioned plea of Jesus in John 17 was that the "world" would come to know the Father.  Just a few chapters previously, He had promised to send the Spirit, Who would teach us all truth, the Spirit, the Advocate, who would dwell with us and make Jesus known to us.  

And then Jesus will continue to make known the Father to us:  I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them (17:26).

What Jesus is talking about here is experience of the Father.  "To know" in Hebrew mentality is to "experience."  We are not talking about head knowledge; we are referring rather to 'heart" knowledge -- a kind of knowing that cannot be shaken.  The famous line is "A man with an experience is not swayed by a man with an argument."  What Jesus wants the disciples to have is experience of His Father, the same kind of experience that He Himself has while on earth.

So then the question arises:  How can we have such an experience?  How can we "know" God the way Jesus knew the Father?  During Jesus lifetime, He practiced open table fellowship with the "world" that did not know the Father -- the tax collectors, the prostitutes, the ordinary fishermen who were looked down upon by the religious scholars and scribes.  "I came to call sinners, not the righteous," He proclaimed.  The Father Himself was seeking the lost sheep, those who did not know Him.  

Today, Jesus still seeks those who do not know the Father.  "Behold, I stand at the door and knock," He says in Revelation 3:20.  "If anyone will open to me, I will come in and eat with him and he with Me."   Open table fellowship.  He was not ashamed to eat at Zacchaeus' house; he is at home in ours.  He "will come in," wherever, however, we live.  And He is not ashamed to invite us to His house, where He enjoys fellowship with the Father.  All He wants is to share with us His own experience of the Father.  It's really that simple.  

And for our part....it's as simple as opening the door.

Commiserate Prayer

 I groaned with visceral pain as I listened to a friend describe what his sister has been going through for the last two years with cancer.  After suffering three bouts of chemo treatment, none of them has worked for her, and now she has to decide whether to attempt a fourth round.

Another friend recently described a lung condition that constantly threatens her life -- not gradually, but all at once, shutting down all the valves so that no breathing is possible.  The average span of life after this diagnosis is three years, and every day, she is conscious of that.  

When I attempt to pray for people like this, my mind often shuts down even while my spirit groans in pain.  I don't know how to pray for them.  Healing, yes; Comfort, yes; Experience of God's closeness, yes; help from family and friends, yes.  But still....nothing I can do or pray seems adequate in the face of their suffering.  

Today I read Psalm 20.  I often use the psalms for prayer, as they express what I cannot say.  And reading this psalm with particular people in mind has made it even more relevant:

May the Lord answer you in time of trial;
may the name of Jacob's God protect you,
sending you help from the holy place,
and giving you support from Zion.

May God remember all your offerings,

receive your sacrifices with favor,

give you your heart's desire,

and fulfill every one of your plans.

May we ring out our joy at your victory,

and raise banners in the name of our God.

May the Lord grant all your prayers.

Perhaps this psalm is not really any more "effective," if you will, than my silent groaning, but at least I now feel that I am praying with those who are suffering rather than for them.  I am asking that their prayers be answered, rather than mine.  And somehow, I think that might count for something.

Encouragement

Many are the troubles of the just man, 
but out of them all the Lord delivers him (Ps. 34:20). 

Almost everyone I know right now is going through "troubles," whether from the aftermath of the storm or from concern over health problems, or worry about family problems.  For some, it never seems to let up, and discouragement sets in, and then depression, robbing one of energy and the joy of life.  

It saddens me that so few people will turn to the Psalms for encouragement.  I completely understand why people will not read other sections of Scripture when they are feeling discouraged, because, unless the Holy Spirit is leading you to the exact passage you need at the moment, it takes some energy to do "Scripture study."   But the Psalms were made for times like this.  

Although not all of the Psalms were written by David, they all had their origin in his experience of being hated by a madman and of being pursued by an army seeking to kill him.  Hiding out in the wilderness of Judea, sleeping in caves, experiencing hunger and thirst on a daily basis, David had no hope except in God Himself -- the Good Shepherd.  He had a few men with him, who themselves were helpless against Saul's army.  And even when the opportunity arose to kill Saul, David could not bring himself to do harm to "God's anointed."

In the Psalms we find every human emotion, from despair to joy.  Even the feeling of wanting to destroy one's enemy and to "smash his children's head against the rocks."  (C.S. Lewis' Reflections on the Psalms is a great help for those who find such sentiments revolting.)  But my point here is that the Psalms encompass all of our human reactions.  They do not "worry" that such feelings are "unchristian" or unworthy; they acknowledge the spectrum of human experience, and because of that, we can find a home, so to speak, in their verses.  

It is always so encouraging to find someone who understands what we are going through, and who can give us some hope out of our despair.  I love to stumble across just the words I need in times of discouragement.  I wrote yesterday about discernment of spirits; what the Psalms do for me is give me peace.  Proverbs 25:11 says, A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.  When I find exactly what I need to hear, that's indeed like "apples of gold" to my spirit.

If we can find nothing else in Scripture to encourage us and to once again "set us upon a rock too high for (our) enemy to reach," (Ps. 18, paraphrased), the Psalms offer a wealth of supply for our need.  Back in 2010, on my way to the doctor only to find out I had lung cancer, I was listening to Charles Stanley talking about Ps. 57:1:  I will hide in the shadow of his wings until the disaster has passed me by.  Even before the diagnosis had been revealed, peace descended all over me and never left.

The Word of God is living and active and more powerful than any two-edged sword, ...discerning the thoughts and attitudes of the heart (Heb. 4:12). We need to put it to work for us!  Once the Psalms have applied balm to our wounds, the rest of scripture can begin to penetrate our hearts and minds also.

On Ignatian Spirituality and the Facebook Experience

 Recently I posted a quotation from Julian of Norwich* on Facebook:  

All shall be well,

 and all shall be Well,
and all manner of things shall be well.

Now Facebook is not my favorite thing, but every now and then I become ensnared by photos of animals doing hilarious, sweet, or ultra-cute things, and I continue to scroll through the pages watching for comments from friends and family.  In response to this particular quotation, a friend wrote that she especially loved the story of the cat that kept Julian company in her hermitage.  I had not heard that story but responded that I believed it.  And my friend wrote back that she believed all stories about cats.  

The result of this overall exchange was a chuckle and a brief re-connection with someone I had known professionally and warmly some years ago. Though now separated by time and distance, we were able to one again touch and smile as close friends based on our mutual love of both cats and spiritual response to the writings of a Catholic saint.

In my brief and infrequent forays into facebook, however, I have noticed a distinct division between this type of exchange and the raucous, angry, divisive type of commentary that goes on as par-for-the-course.  Many people have gotten off facebook altogether because of these exchanges.  In fact, just last night I heard someone comment that it is impossible even to have a conversation these days with those whose opinions differ.  Immediately, one is attacked as evil, as enemy, as stupid or uncaring, if one's question indicates a minority opinion from the majority.

Normally, I will not comment on the political forum; in fact, I flee from it altogether as I would if I found myself in the midst of an angry mob.  There is no sense in trying to have a discussion or conversation with those who are carrying bricks and bats and looking for something to destroy, any more than one would step into the street on the night of Kristallnacht* 1938 to discuss the actions of the Nazi troops.  The one time I questioned a comment on getting rid of the electoral college, I was attacked with a volume and a venom that immediately shut me down. 

In reflecting on these two fb experiences, the whole "story" of Ignatian discernment of spirits suddenly became real to me.  Ignatius was a Spanish Basque knight and soldier born in 1491, who loved stories of heroism and battle, of romance and chivalry. When he was severely wounded in battle and recovering in his family castle, he looked for books to read about adventure and great deeds.  All that was available to him, however, were the Bible and stories of the saints.  Eventually, Ignatius began to realize that when he read stories of heroism, he was left feeling unsettled and anxious -- I think I would characterize the feeling as "mildly disturbed."  When he read stories of the saints, or the life of Christ, he was left with a feeling of peace and calm that remained even when he was no longer reading.  

From his experience with noticing the effects certain kinds of reading had on his spirit, he developed The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises based on discernment of spirits.  In the past, when I have heard about "discernment of spirits," I thought of some esoteric "woo-woo" kind of thing, kind of way beyond me.  Now that I am actually listening to CDs based on the Ignatian spirituality, however, I realize that this is everyday experience to which we barely pay attention.

It took Ignatius paying attention to his own spiritual response to different kinds of experience to reveal that God has given to all of us a gift of discernment.  Certain things make us flee in fear; other experiences draw us with warmth, humor, and connection.  Certain experiences unite us; others repel us or disturb us.  When we begin to credit our own interior response to words and situations, we can be led into peace and joy and learn to avoid the things that disturb us.

What amazes me about facebook is that the people who are perpetually angry seem to be addicted to the anger and vituperation.  Day after day, they appear to be shaking their fists and asking others to join them in their outpouring of hatred and division.  Unfortunately, the prevailing mood does not stop at facebook, but has now taken to the public square in a movement much like Kristallnacht. 

*( I have asterisked both Julian of Norwich and Kristallnacht, intending to reference them at the end of this post, but actually, they are both so available on the internet with better explanations that I will leave them to the reader.) 

Learning to listen to our own spirits and believing that God wants unity and peace first within us and then among one another could be the secret to healing our nation and our souls.

God Shining Through

 Pope Francis recently gave a talk for the Feast of All Saints (November 1) in which he compared the saints to stained glass windows, which let the light shine through, each with its own particular hue.  When I think of the people I know, I can see the analogy:  some shine with brilliance/ intelligence; some with goodness and kindness; some with generosity and thoughtfulness; some with a great sense of humor that lightens every encounter.  When Jesus walked the earth, He embodied in every moment the goodness and image of Who God Is.  When He washed the feet of the apostles, He enfleshed -- made visible and concrete-- what God the Father has been doing for us since the beginning.  When He protected the woman caught in adultery, or called Matthew, or healed lepers, He was shining forth the Face of the Father.

A friend of mine had a stroke several years ago, which left her somewhat incapacitated.  Yet she is fully recovered enough to cook for 60 homeless people a day (someone delivers the food and picks it up, and she cooks in her own kitchen).  Once the owner of her own catering business in Atlanta, she probably has every right to feel sorry for herself, but now it's as if she were born to do this!  

We have just survived yet another hurricane, and when I walked out of my house Thursday morning, I was overwhelmed by what needed to be done and by our inability to tackle the task.  Spontaneously, I asked God to send someone to help us, preferably "someone with a chain saw."  Within a couple of hours, a neighbor in the next block whom we barely knew arrived --- with a chain saw and a tree saw.  "I want to help," he said, looking at the two trees that had partially come down in front of the house.  I didn't have the heart to show him the back yard.  "If you can just cut those trees down,' I told him, "I'll drag the pieces to the curb."  He worked for a couple of hours cutting one huge dead tree to the ground and sawing the pieces of another tree that had split down the middle.  

Later that morning, after  he had left, a young couple on bikes stopped to help me haul debris to the curb.  They cleared the ground of all the logs and branches that had been cut down and then offered to  help with whatever else we needed.  "Do you have a chain saw?" I asked, thinking of the wasteland in the back of the house.  He assured me he could borrow one, and I immediately hired them to come back the next day, which they did.  Their work was impeccable, as was their work ethic.  Never have I seen anyone tackle such a huge task with the energy and enthusiasm they had!  Not only did God answer MY prayer, but He answered theirs:  the young man had been in prison for 3 years at one time, and now finds it hard to get a job.  So now we have great help for everyday maintenance, and they have work.  (I have advertised their help to all my friends in the garden club, and now they have jobs lined up for awhile.)

In the past few days without power, neighbors have all worked together to ease the burden.  One of my neighbors arrived early the first day to offer space in her chest freezer for my frozen items; another brought us a small camp stove so that we could have hot coffee in the morning and hot soup at night -- what a huge difference that made!  Other neighbors brought us ice when it became available on the 3rd day, along with coffee from McDonald's, and told us not to worry about the broken fence between our homes -- they would repair it themselves.

In times like this, it is so easy to see "God shining through" each person in his/her own particular way.  What a joy it is!  Even a child can reflect the sweet love of God given to us in one another.  My favorite little boy (not quite 4 yet) met me after church Saturday with the biggest/ tightest hug I think I have ever received, and then he took my hand in his little hand and said, "I walk you to your car, Miss Gayle."  

Even in difficult times, God has a way of opening the clouds and letting His love shine through!