The Human Condition

 Psalm 25, like many other psalms, contains a plaintive cry:  My eyes are always on the Lord, who rescues my feet from the snare.  Turn to me and have mercy on me, for I am alone and poor.  Relieve the anguish of my heart, and set me free from my distress.  See my lowliness and suffering, and take away all my sins.

God told Moses: I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt.  I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering.  So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey (Exodus 3).

If we look at the ministry of Jesus in light of Psalm 25, we can see in living color, so to speak, God's concern for those who are "alone and poor," those who have anguish of heart and distress.  He is the new and final Moses, sent by God to bring us out of slavery and into a good and spacious land.  His ministry of deliverance continues even today through the church, as any reader of the Acts of the Apostles can see.  Today, there is a magazine, whose name escapes me, devoted to stories of God's deliverance of those who have -- like all of us -- experienced times of distress, of being "alone and poor."

Thomas Merton says, "Christianity is a religion for men who are aware that there is a deep wound, a fissure of sin that strikes down to the very heart of man's being.  They have tasted the sickness that is present in the inmost heart of man estranged from God by guilt, suspicion, and covert hatred.

Merton maintains that it is dread alone that delivers us from easy answers about prayer and Christianity.  It is only when we face being alone and poor that we truly turn to God and open ourselves to His deliverance.  Most of us, I think, prefer to manage life on our own until it becomes beyond our capability -- and then we cry out to God for help!  

C.S. Lewis describes the beginning of his conversion as a kind of cracking and crumbling of the exoskeleton that surrounded him and protected his individuality.  He speaks of being a reluctant convert, as I think most of us might be.  But dread, in the words of Thomas Merton, is the human condition that finally breaks out outer shell and often leads us to cry out to God.  

And God's answer is always, "I have seen the misery of my people in Egypt and have seen their suffering!"  He has sent Moses; He has sent Jesus Christ.  He has sent the Holy Spirit.  

Those who have experienced God's help in distress are those who cry out with the psalmist:  God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in distress! (Ps. 46).

New Dimensions in Prayer

 In my last entry, I wrote about listening to the voice within as a way of praying -- allowing the Spirit to lead us into the deepest dimensions of our hearts and minds.  

A few weeks ago, as I entered into my hour of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, I spontaneously began a dual list in my notebook -- something I had never done previously.  On one side of the page, I wrote "Gratitude." On the other side, "Petitions."  Without really thinking too much, I quickly jotted down all the events and people that came to mind in each category.  After a few minutes, I stopped writing and began to meditate/pray/think about each item on the list.  Surprisingly, that hour of prayer sped by quickly as I pondered my dual lists.

Since that day, I have begun each day with some sort of brief list --- reminders (the traditional "to do" list), quotations, ideas, etc.  I've never been a fan of "to do" lists because I never seem to be able to complete the tasks, but allowing my list to include other things on my mind is more helpful to me.

As often happens in the spiritual life, we first have an experience/ an encounter, and later we find the words to explain or describe what we have experienced.  A few days ago in my reading, I came across a mention of Marilyn McIntyre's book called Make a List: How a Simple Practice Can Change our Lives.  Someone once said, "When the student is ready, the teacher appears."  This saying certainly seemed to apply in my case!

Ms. McIntyre's introduction spoke directly to my experience:

As we add lines to a list, we become aware of the voice in us that speaks when we listen.  This is an experience I often have in prayer or meditation: a sentence or a phrase comes from somewhere other than my busy ego-mind.  I experience it as a gift received.....Something in the momentum of list-making opens corners of the mind that can be hard to reach and gives the inner voice a say.

Paying attention is the first step toward love.  We can love only what we notice, name, return to, and reflect on. 

I have read only a few pages of Make a List, but I can already see that what I might have dismissed as a "one-off" experience of making a list may become a great tool in listening to and discerning the Voice of the Holy Spirit in guiding my life.  I am eternally grateful to the Spirit of God who has always listened to me better than I have learned to listen to Him!

 

Listening to the Voice Within

 Most of us think of prayer as saying something to God, and of course, that is probably the starting point when we come to pray.  But in his introduction to prayer, Thomas Merton speaks of meditation:  In mental prayer, we enter a realm of which we are no longer the masters....we seek to enter more deeply into the life of God....One who begs an alms must adopt a different attitude from one who demands what is due to him by his own right...

The desires and sorrows of our hearts in prayer rise to the heavenly Father as the desires and sorrows of His Son, 

by virtue of the Holy Spirit who teaches us to pray and who, though we do not always know how to pray....prays in us and cries out to the Father in us.

In the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses tells the people that the Word of God is not so far off that someone has to go up to the heavens to find it.  Rather, he says, it is (already) in your hearts and minds; you have only to carry it out.

So a good part of prayer is not so much saying what is on our minds, but rather attempting to listen to what the Spirit is saying inside us.  It takes some discipline to be still, not to be always talking, but rather listening.  We can think of it as a two-way radio.  If I'm talking, I'm not listening.  If I want to listen, I have to turn off the talking switch.

I recently read about someone who needed direction from the Lord.  So whenever she had time, she would sit before the tabernacle and just wait on the Lord.  She did not pour out her heart, multiply her prayers, etc. ---- she just sat and waited.  That would probably be hard for most of us, but here's the way I like to think about it:

As a teacher, I appreciated those students who were in class when I arrived, materials ready and minds open to listen, to receive direction.  They were "waiting upon" me, not full of their own ideas, but open to receive what I would say.  Now I know that the Holy Spirit is given to me to pray in me the will of God.  So if I can come to class, so to speak, prepared to listen to what the Spirit is saying within me, that would be waiting upon the Lord.  

It may feel a bit strange at first since we are so used to doing all the talking, but if we can only be still long enough, I think we would be surprised and delighted at what the Spirit is saying within us.

Blessed are they......

 Recently I've been reading The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness by Gregory Doyle.  Father Doyle works with those whose lives have been marked by abuse, neglect, abandonment, prison, gang warfare, murder, drugs, etc. -- basically, the rejects of society.  He usually interviews those who are referred to him or who ask for admittance to Homeboys, Inc. after their release from prison, then takes them in as his own sons and apprentices, allows them an 18-month formation and job training, and then like Jesus, sends them out after a fashion to tell their story and to recruit through love and tenderness others like themselves who are lost to society.  He does this by creating a "sangha," a Buddhist term for a community of inclusion and acceptance.

The beauty of this story is that his "homies" fall in love with themselves for the first time in their lives and can't stop smiling at what they discover in themselves -- basic goodness/ tenderness, which neither they nor anyone else has ever seen in them.

As I was re-reading Matthew's Gospel this morning, I stopped at the Beatitudes, kind of amazed at what I was seeing in them in light of Gregory Doyle's book.    For the first time, I was seeing the Beatitudes not as a list of isolated blessings, but rather as a pattern of progression in the spiritual life.  I was seeing the pattern in Father Doyle's homeboys, who come to him as the most miserable of men and women and who in 18 months blossom into loving, laughing, compassionate, and giving members of a community.  These "homies" represent in the most graphic way what it means to be "born again" and to develop a spiritual life:

Blessed are the poor in spirit --  those who have experienced the kind of grief and sadness that comes from being rejected, unloved, unacceptable and unaccepted by society, especially by their families.  Those who cannot see themselves as "good" in any sense.

Blessed are those who mourn --- Once these rejects begin to experience acceptance and even love within the community of men and women like themselves, they begin to grieve/ mourn the ways they have hurt other people.  Their angry, tough, personas begin to break down and they become vulnerable.

Blessed are the meek ---  For the first time in their lives, they do not have to defend themselves, prove themselves, maintain a tough exterior to hide fear inside, and they become gentle -- even emotional and loving.  They become submissive to the Holy Spirit instead of to the anger that previously ruled their lives.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.  As the homies begin to experience tenderness toward themselves from others, they discover for the first time their own power to extend that same tenderness toward others.  They become "filled" to overflowing; they desire the goodness that has been lacking their whole lives.  They open themselves to the Spirit of God within them.

Blessed are the merciful ---- now they can turn to other people in mercy and forgiveness instead of in anger and hostility.  They become like God, extending to others the same mercy they have experienced.

Blessed are the pure in heart ----  They are now able to see God at work in their lives; they see goodness in other people and are able to respond to the love offered them from others.

Blessed are the peacemakers --  They gradually turn from gangbangers to peacemakers, resisting the temptation to get even, to come out on top, to strike out at others.  They want others to experience the same kind of tenderness that has transformed their lives, and as a result:

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness -- they are no longer accepted by their peers, those who have not yet experienced the kind of transformation they themselves have undergone.  They are misunderstood by those outside the community as weak and defenseless.

We don't have to be gangbangers, rapists, druggies, or murderers to experience the kind of progressive transformation evident in Father Doyle's "homies."  But I imagine all of us at some time must realize our own kind of poverty in order to embark on the kind of journey described in the Beatitudes.  Even Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection wrote in his book (Practice of the Presence of God), "I can do fewer good things than anyone!"  And St. Peter, upon realizing the holiness of Jesus, said, "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man."  Once we finally realize our inner poverty and lack of spiritual resources, we are on our way!

It's a Real Thing !

 Our house has been on the market for four months.  The appraiser had said that this home would sell within a month, with multiple offers.  She was wrong; the house needs updating and re-painting.  Over the past few months, the gardens have become neglected and weedy.  It seems no one else loves the house the way I did.

Yesterday, on the way into church, I met our realtor who had shown the house twice this weekend.  No luck!  He talked about all the things we need to do to make the house attractive again.  I went into Mass totally discouraged and dejected -- even fearful.  What would we do if the house does not sell?  As Mass progressed, I felt even worse, thinking about worst-case scenarios.  In addition, after being away on a trip for the past few weeks, I was seeing people I had not seen in awhile, and thinking that I really did not want to socialize after Mass because of my obsession with the house situation.

As I received the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in Communion, I heard some gentle words spoken to me in my spirit:  If God has given us His Son, how will He not give us all things else besides?  I knew these words to be a paraphrase of Romans 8:32 --If God did not spare His Son, will He not give us all things else besides?  My response was, "Jesus, I know that in this sacrament, I receive not only your physical body but your own peace and joy as well."  In other words, not only His body, but His spirit is given to us in communion.

By the end of Mass, I realized that my fear and worry had gone; I was experiencing peace and joy, and I was more than ready to meet all my friends and catch up on their news.  I am amazed at the transformation that took place in me in just a few minutes!  But the story does not end there.  This morning I flipped through an old book that had been set aside for donation.  Inside I found a card with these words:

Holy Communion has as its distincct effect to form in us the mind and heart of Christ.  The subtle effects of transformation that take place in the depths of a Christian's soul are visible only to God.  The changes effected by Holy Communion are imperceptible, but that does not mean they are not real.  The operation of the Blessed Sacrament may be likened to the invisible, slow, and mysterious working of the seedling in the earth.

We think the effect of each communion is small because we do not understand what immense opposition to His transforming love Our Lord finds in the soul of each one of us.  We should stir up our minds and hearts to a vivid realization that when we receive Jesus Christ, we are receiving God the Son, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Who comes to us united with His Sacred Humanity, prepared to use it an instrument of His Divine Power to effect a wonderful change in us. 

I do not know the source of the quote, but of all the books I might have picked up this morning, I happened to pick up this one and find the card inside.  Shortly afterwards, I opened my Kindle to continue reading a book I began some time ago -- The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness by Gregory Boyle.  The very first words I read were these:  We talk about the Incarnation being necessary.  Indeed, it was.  Not because of sin....but because God's love needed to become tender.  There was an urgency for it to become touch and smell and action and listening; to become tenderness in the flesh. 

Jesus said, "My peace I give to you; not as the world gives it. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (Jn. 14:27).  And "My joy is yours, that your joy may be complete" (John 15:11).  Teresa of Avila said this: "Just these two words God spoke changed my life: 'Enjoy Me.'"

The aim of our lives is to enjoy God forever, beginning right now.  And in the Sacrament of Communion, He gives us the Way to do just that -- I am the Way.....

Our sacrament is not "symbolic," as some believe.  It's a Real Thing!

Our Souls Need Food!

 Man does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God (Matt.4:4).

We are more than physical beings; we are composed of body, soul, and spirit.  I have heard this saying since grade school, but it was not until later in life that I began to wonder about the soul.  What exactly is the "soul"?  Scholars tell us that the soul is comprised of mind, heart/emotions, and will.  For now, I will not address how the soul differs from the spirit in mankind.

My daughter recently told me about a book called Healing Beyond Pills and Potions by Steve Bierman, M.D.  From his own experience of being healed of a painful condition, Dr. Bierman began to research the soul as a source of physical healing, although he never mentions or refers to the "soul" in his book.  Exploring among other things the mystery of healing that often occurs through placebos, he investigates what happens when there is some authority -- even a placebo -- in which people place their faith and thus begin the healing process.  He even cites a case wherein bald people began to grow hair when given a placebo during a controlled experiment!

I don't think we can discount the power of the mind, the emotions, and the will when it comes to what happens to our bodies.  And yet, from what I can see of our culture, we are consistently starving our minds, hearts, and wills  -- or at best, we are feeding these powers strictly junk food from television, social media, entertainment, etc.  What is it that sustains us in times of weakness, trouble, or worry?  Certainly not tik tok!

Padre Pio once said, "I shudder to think of the harm done to souls by a lack of spiritual reading!"  Our souls have no strength unless we sustain them with spiritual food.  And if our souls have no strength, our bodies too have no resources except pills and potions!

In the book of the Prophet Amos, God speaks through the prophet:  Yes, days are coming....when I shall send famine upon the land:  Not a famine of bread or that of water, but for hearing the word of the Lord.  They shall wander from sea to sea and rove from the north to the east in search of the word of the Lord, but they shall not find it (chapter 8).

I think those days have come upon us.  Our parish has an extensive library that is seldom used.  A wonderful treasury of books on every subject and level sits unused, and I am fairly sure that the Bibles in homes remain closed also.  Mary Sommes, the editor of my morning devotional, recently wrote: If you take the time -- even a few minutes a day -- to read Scripture slowly and prayerfully, you can and will come to know how deeply God loves you. And filled with that transformative knowledge -- that you are loved beyond measure --- you will become what you read.  You will know by heart the only recipe that can feed an entire world.

To feed our minds, it might be useful to begin at the first page of the Bible and read through -- but to feed our souls, it is better to let the Spirit of God guide us, to allow Him to show us the food we need for our daily sustenance. Then, as Scripture promises, we will be fed with the finest of wheat and the choicest wine!