Emmaus ~ "Aha"-lleluia!

 

 In the account of the disciples walking to Emmaus, after the experience of the crucifixion of Jesus, they headed out of town ASAP!  They were disappointed, disillusioned, disoriented, and disbelieving of the women’s message of Jesus’ resurrection. They expected Jesus to do great things and overtake the political and religious leaders – their hopes in Jesus were sealed away in the tomb with a two ton rock positioned at its entrance.  

As they were walking, they were extroverting, debating, and probably taking part in “global-whining” as to what they had recently experienced with shock and terror in Jerusalem. Along the road, Jesus meets them and they are described as having eyes cast down and hearts slow to believe. In other words, these disciples were probably experiencing their own unique form of post traumatic stress. But it is Jesus who gets them to attend to what they experienced, to recall and remember what was written in the Scriptures, and to stir up their juices of empowerment once again.  The rock was slowly being moved from their hearts, and their eyes were gently opening to the Mystery that was walking with them.  Then, noticing that it was nearly evening, they asked Jesus to stay with them, and they would chip in for the supper at the near-by inn.  

It was then at table, in the blessing of the bread, and it’s being broken and shared once again, that they recognized him.  And what’s more, they noticed that their hearts were on fire!! I am told that someplace it is written that the Jews at that time believed that there was a “connection” between one’s eyes and one’s heart – So eyes cast down leads to sad and slow to believing hearts. Yet, in the presence of the blessing and bread breaking – their eyes were opened and their hearts were set on fire! Jesus – “aha” “aha-lleluia” – He is alive – just as the women said! So they set out at once to return to Jerusalem, and “the rest is history” as the saying goes.  

So what is the Good News for us?  “There are times when we too have our hopes and expectations disappointed. We may feel that God has not treated us fairly or has abandoned us, and we are left in a state of bewilderment and confusion. Our challenge then is to accept, perhaps with difficulty, that God has not abandoned us, but is leading us to a new understanding of what our life is about. To a greater or less extent an experience of disorientation is inevitable until we get our bearings again.” (Source unknown)

Sister Helen ~ bread baker sharing her bread!

Thomas, the Believer!

This Sunday, in some places, is called, “Thomas Sunday.” Our Gospel for our liturgies includes John 20:19-31. It is the story of a week after the Resurrection event, when the disciples are crowded together again in the upper room - this time with Thomas present. He was absent from their first experience of Jesus’ appearance to them in the upper room.  So here they are again for another time of gathering to process what they have experienced and how to move forward beyond Jerusalem!

So often Thomas is associated with doubting, especially in relation to faith.  Although we hear in the other resurrection Gospels that other disciples doubted as well.  Let us not forget Mr. and Mrs. Cleopas who skipped town after the crucifixion and were “found out” on the road to Emmaus when the "Stranger" caught up with them.  However, the finger is often pointed at Thomas and we might hear the expression, “Doubting Thomas” in some gatherings.

As I reflected on this Gospel, I thought that Thomas is like many of us who sometimes just need to take leave of all the tensions, trauma, and “too muching” of highly intense events. We then struggle to get back to balance and our inner center. He just witnessed the betrayal, arrest, crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus, whom he loyally followed for three years. Don’t we all have our own individual and unique ways of holding our pain and the ache of our grief?

Perhaps the disciples searched for Thomas, and upon finding him invited Thomas to gather with them once again as they shared their experience of the Risen Jesus. He may have felt hurt, or jealous, or  still be in pain upon hearing that Jesus appeared in the flesh to them and he was absent.  He knew what he saw and experienced as the Roman soldiers pierced the side of Jesus and nailed him to the cross. It was too much for his person to hold!  He needed space far away to let the pain of it all weave through his weary spirit.

But this time, he was in need of some facts – pie charts, bar graphs, graphics, and possibly a spread sheet with more data!  So often in our own journey of faith, have we not murmured  . . . “OK, God, show me a sign and then I’ll believe it . . .” Thomas is all of us who in our faithing have to be invited by our God again and again to trust and to risk being loved unconditionally. 

Jesus came in the way that Thomas most needed.  He instructed Thomas to put his hand in his side and fingers in the place of the nails if that is what Thomas needed.  We don’t know if he did.  But he did as with laser speed move to a deeper place of belief and exclaimed, “MY LORD and MY GOD!!"  This was Thomas’ own moment of inner rising!

So let us pray this day that the hand of God touch into the wounds of our world.  Are we not weary with the violence, wars, injustices, and deaths that humanity has inflicted upon itself and creation? 

Let us also pray that we let God’s fingers probe our minds, hearts, and spirits to release us from anything that keeps us in doubt or resistant to receiving God’s grace, mercy, and unconditional love. Peace be to all of us!!

Previously posted

In the breaking of the bread . . .

EMMAUS JOURNEY (Luke 24: 13-35)

All was chaos when he died.
We fled our separate ways at first,
then gathered again in the upper room
to chatter blue-lipped prayers
around the table where he’d talked
of love and oneness.

On the third day Cleopas and I
left for the home we’d abandoned
in order to follow him.

We wanted no part of the babble
the women had brought from the tomb.
We vowed to get on with our grieving.

On the road we met a Stranger
whose voice grew vaguely familiar
as he spoke of signs and suffering.

By the time we reached our village,
every tree and bush was blazing,
and we pressed him to stay the night.

Yet not till we sat at the table
and watched the bread being broken
did we see the light.

Irene Zimmerman, osf
From: Woman Un-Bent

 

(Previously posted)

Easter's First Responders!

On June 22, 2018, 12 members of the Thailand Wild Boar soccer team (ages 11-16) and their coach (age 25, a former Buddhist monk) entered one of the many cave networks in Thailand for a quick, relaxing excursion.  Then unexpectedly, the torrential rains began falling while they were underground, and water filled the caverns cutting them off from their exit and blocking their escape.

After nine days of being trapped one-half mile below the surface and two miles from the mouth of the cave, they were found by two British divers who were among the first responders. According to reports, they were not “panicking, crying, yelling, or depleting their resources.” Instead, they were found sitting in the darkness meditating.  “Their coach had taught them to meditate to keep them calm and preserve their energy.”

During the nearly three-week ordeal with no food or water, they drank sparingly from the fresh water that trickled from the ceiling. They were tough, resilient athletes who believed in one another as members of the Wild Boar soccer team.

Parents, friends, and people from surrounding villages set up prayer shrines and food centers for the workers, and prayed that the lost would be found – alive!

The first responders were a mix of a thousand volunteers from across the world including:
• 60 Thai Navy Seal divers
• Chinese, British and Australian cave experts
• U. S. military teams
• Other teams included translators, oxygen refueling teams, mountain climbing teams,  electricity and water management teams, kitchen teams, and spiritual support teams.
• Their equipment consisted of pumps, ropes, oxygen tanks, helicopters, medics, and  so much more.

Finally, on July 10, the 18th day, and after three previous days of rescue efforts to remove all the boys, their coach, medics and divers, all were safe and escorted off to a nearby hospital; after which, all water pumps broke and rushing waters filled the caves once again.  It was thus written:
“The rescue of Thailand’s Wild Boars’ soccer team and its coach from a flooded cave will be remembered as one of the greatest rescues of all time.”(Ottawa Citizen)

Tonight all our vigil readings speak to us that our God has always been our eternal, divine first responder, finder, and redeemer!  In our Gospel this evening, we meet our Easter women who are first responders as well.
As they begin their own early morning “excursion” to the garden cave-like tomb fully expecting to find the dead body of Jesus, they are still walking “ankle deep” in grief and sorrow, reeling from having witnessed the arrest, crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus, their friend, leader, and teacher. 

They witness to us a determination, a courage, and resilience, much like the Thailand responders, as they carry their simple equipment of fragrant substances – spices, perfumes, and oil to anoint the body of Jesus. 

In every Gospel narrative of the Resurrection, it is always women who are the first responders to the tomb. No special teams journey with them to the tomb; no heavy-duty equipment is available to move the rock. These women, with the power of their love, magnanimous faith, trust, and bold spirits are all that is needed to respond.

Upon approaching the tomb, they saw that the stone had been rolled away, and the cohort of guards was no longer present. Moving from the dimness of the early morning light into the darkness of the cave, they soon realized that it was empty and Jesus’ body was gone! (Now we know that Jesus is truly an early riser!) 

Confused and somewhat terrified upon discovering that the body of Jesus was gone, they immediately encountered two messengers dressed in dazzling white garments. The blinding blaze from the garments flooded the entire tomb and swiftly flashed outward into the entire cosmos, dispelling Good Friday darkness and kissing all of creation with Easter energy!

The messengers ask the women why they seek the living one in a cemetery, then tell them that Jesus is risen, he is alive; he is loose among them once again!  He refuses to stay put. "He is free again to create earthquakes among the religious and political leaders, to once again empower his disciples."              
For no cross can keep him from loving us!
No sealed tomb can keep him from loving us!
No experience of death can keep him from loving us . . .

Called by God to be the first witnesses of the Resurrection, the first disciples of the Easter Good News, and first responders walking into new Easter faith, these women came to grieve, but "left with a message that would change the world."

Easter is the celebration of Jesus’ rising and ours as well . . .  for we are invited to take up where Jesus left off.   Let us recall that we moved from the darkness of the room below this chapel to blazing lights in procession, with our Easter candle illuminating our journey. This Easter light now radiates through the pathways of this house and throughout the surrounding land, dispelling the darkness of our world and blessing it with the brilliance of Resurrection joy!

• Therefore, as we experience life by embracing its joyful and sorrowful mysteries, let us move forward with Easter energy, and respond with Resurrection joy.
• As we speak the Good News of truth and spread hope as joyful witnesses – let us respond with Resurrection joy.
• As we stand up with resiliency for justice, goodness, and non-violence – let us respond with Resurrection joy.
• Finally, let us accept and embrace our God’s desire to Easter in us and remove all stones of fear or resistance from our hearts, minds, and spirits, so that we, like the women in our Scriptures, may be responders to the power of God’s love raising us up with a resilient Easter faith and bold spirits that cannot be confined.

Jean Hinderer, CSA
MH - Easter Vigil 2019

"This is my body, broken for you."

Crucifixion

Stripped of godliness,
hands hammered open,,
arms yanked wide,
the crossbeamed Christ
pours himself out
till rivers run red with
wine enough to satisfy
century-cries of thirst.

Irene Zimmerman, OSF
Woman Un-Bent

 

Crucifix in chapel of Jesuit Retreat Center, Oshkosh, WI

 

And It Was Night . . .

You stumble unseeing from the upper room
and no number of lanterns and torches can dim
your darkness now, Judas. When did you let
the light go out? When did you begin
to guard the hoard and spend starry evenings
behind drawn tent flaps, running the coins
through acquisitive fingers while the company sat
in a circle outside, breaking bread
and talking of light in the crackling campfire?

When did you fine-tune your ears to the clink
of copper and silver and gold, letting
the words of the Master fade out unheeded?
When did you start to begrudge begging hands
and when did you welcome disciples more
for the treasures they gave than the treasures they were?

Now, in the dark of Gethsemane’s garden,
you touch greedy lips to the Master’s cheek –
a cheap giveaway to your cohorts of night.

Irene Zimmerman, OSF
Woman Un-Bent



Do this in my memory . . .

Painting by Fr. Bob Gilroy

used with permission

Dec. October 29, 2017

https://www.trinitystores.com/artist/fr-bob-gilroy-sj

 

 

Once upon a time when I was attending a Holy Thursday service at a nearby parish,  there were chairs set up in the aisles along with pitchers of water, basins, and towels.  So it was that when it came to the ritual of foot washing, everyone participated. I found myself entering into the movements and happenings with such emotion, I could feel it deep in my soul space.
During this time, I watched husbands and wives washing each other’s feet, their children washing the feet of their parents. I saw sons and daughters washing the feet of their elderly parents. Children washing the feet of their siblings.  It was oh so moving that I cried throughout the whole experience, and especially as my feet were washed. What a powerful act of intimacy - an act of sacred touching, healing, welcoming, and forgiving.

A Sorrowful Mystery . . .

A poem posted by Fr. Stephen Verbest . . .
https://newmelleray.org/Homily-Library
 
A poem by an unknown author, titled:
"Two Mothers", tells of their anonymous heavenly encounter as follows: 
 
A long time ago, so I have been told,
 Two mothers once met on streets paved with gold.
“By the stars in your crown,” said Mary to the other
“I see that on earth, you too, were a mother.
"And by, the violet-tinted halo you wear
 You, too, have known sorrow and deepest despair.”

“Ah yes,” she replied, “I once had a son.
 A sweet little lad, full of laughter and fun.
“But tell of your child.”
 “Oh, I knew I was blessed
 From the moment I first held him close to my breast,
 And my heart almost burst with the joy of that day.”
“Ah, yes,” said the other, “I felt the same way.”
 
The former continued: “The first steps he took-
So eager and breathless; the sweet startled look
 Which came over his face – he trusted me so.”

“Ah, yes,” said the other, “How well do I know."
 
“But soon he had grown to a tall handsome boy,
 So stalwart and kind – and it gave me such joy
 To have him just walk down the street by my side.”

“Ah yes," said the other mother, “I felt the same pride.”

“How often I shielded and spared him from pain.
 And when he for others was so cruelly slain.
 When they crucified him – and they spat in his face
 How gladly would I have hung there in his place!”

A moment of silence – “Oh, then you are indeed
 The mother of Christ!”; and she fell on one knee.
 But the Blessed one raised her up, drawing her near.
 And kissed from the cheek of the mother, a tear.

“Tell me the name of the son you love so,
 That I may share with you in your grief and your woe.”
She lifted her eyes, looking straight at the other.
“He was Judas Iscariot: I am his mother.”

A Week Named . . .HOLY!

A businessman known for his ruthless practices bragged to Mark Twain, “Before I die I mean to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I will climb Mount Sinai and read the 10 Commandments aloud at the top.” Twain retorted, “I have a better idea. You could stay in Boston and keep them.”
As we enter into this week named HOLY there is no need to make a pilgrimage to a far away land, or to climb a sacred high mountain, or shout out commandments once given to Moses!

The HOLY can be found within our own hearts and lives.  The land upon which we live, walk, and have our being is holy.  The "mountains" of joyful and sorrowful events in our everyday world call us to be open to tranformation.  And the Beatitudes of today invite us to live with justice, mercy, forgiveness, and compassion.  All is HOLY this week. 

previously posted

Moving from March Madness to April Gladness!

In March of 2013, we all with some form of technology or in person gathered around a little chimney to watch it produce white smoke to signal the election of a new pope.  Eventually, Francis appeared on the draped balcony amidst red robed cardinals and “priests in waiting.” The days kept building with March Gladness in preparation for the pope’s inauguration when he would be presented with the Pallium, the Ring, and the Book of the Gospels signifying the beginning of his pontificate.

His election became even more of a reality when throngs of people in the square outside St. Peter’s Basilica appeared including marching bands, Swiss Guards in their finest, clergy in their finest as well, with trumpets blaring, and with Patriarchs and Major Archbishops of the Eastern Rite Catholic Churches, heads of the official delegations from various countries, accompanied with vested cardinals in attendance. Again, this is the extent of my hierarchy expertise.  However, I believe this March Gladness was to be a clue as to what we would hear happen in the Scriptures during Holy Week.

Holy Week, beginning with Palm Sunday, presents us with the reading of the Passion after processing with palms. Then we listen to the reading of the Gospel of Mark. He does not have the parade of peoples as Luke, but we celebrate this threshold as we enter deeper into the Paschal Mystery.  Here begins the March Gladness which will eventually be turned into March Madness on Good Friday . . . These readings are filled with much symbolism. I suggest you consider reading a biblical commentary, i.e., Preaching the New Lectionary by Dianne Bergant, Year B. 

Jesus enters Jerusalem riding upon a colt, no Popemobile for him. He will meet throngs of people cheering Hosannas now and later hurling shouts of “crucify him.” Religious and political leaders presently puzzled now, already plotting in their hearts how to get rid of this “presence that disturbs.” No banners, no bands, no ring, no Pallium of lamb’s wool. For you see, he is the “sacrificial lamb.” No Book of the Gospels - for he is Word;  he is the Good News that now comes in gladness only to enter into the Good Friday madness of darkness, anger, and hate. He will stare evil in the face – this, too, will be a legendary performance with a fantastic finish - alternating with the agony and ecstasy of predictions gone right - gone Mysteriously right!



Ready, Set, Give Yourself Away! . . .

 

 

 

 

Entry
( Matthew 21:1-11) 

The stage is set
and everything washed clean
in a rain of sunshine.
Hands reach out
to calm a skittish colt,
bewildered by its burden.
The Son of David
rides a rainbowed road
that rocks with hosannas.
(Irene Zimmerman, OSF)

 

Living Holy Week again and again . . .

O God, we pray for all those in our world

who are suffering from injustice:

For those who are discriminated against

because of their race, color or religion;

For those imprisoned

for working for the relief of oppression;

For those who are hounded

for speaking the inconvenient truth;

For those tempted to violence

as a cry against overwhelming hardship;

For those deprived of reasonable health and education;

For those suffering from hunger and famine;

For those too weak to help themselves

and who have no one else to help them;

For the unemployed who cry out

for work but do not find it.

We pray for anyone of our acquaintance

who is personally affected by injustice.

Forgive us, Lord, if we unwittingly share in the conditions

or in a system that perpetuates injustice.

Show us how we can serve your children

and make your love practical by washing their feet.

                                                             Mother Teresa

Caught in the act with LOVE!

“I am touched to the core with a presence I cannot explain. A loving plan enfolds me. Someone is always believing in me, calling me forth, calling me on. I am standing in grace filled with mystery touched with the eternal.  I cannot get away from goodness. I think I name you, God.”    (An Amazing Presence by Macrina Wiederkehr)



 This Sunday’s Gospel is the story of the adulteress woman “caught in the act” and brought before Jesus by the Scribes and Pharisees. Seems her lover was given the nod to run off and not be held accountable for this crime against the Mosaic Law.  I have often wondered how they were able to get her to this place of exposure without pushing or pulling her or touching her. Was that not a crime as well that made them “unclean"?  It was a set up. They were trying to trap Jesus saying something incriminating so they could bring charges against him.

Jesus is cornered and caught in the act, but in what God does best – pouring forth unconditional compassion, forgiveness, and love. He stoops to write in the dirt not once, but twice. Even though we know not what he wrote, could we imagine that it was her name – for her accusers call her, “this woman,”  Or maybe - "you are loved."  He then stands up to look not only in her eyes, but deep into her soul – and invites her to trust being loved unconditionally without judgment, exploitation, or condemnation.

He reaches into the very depths of her heart - there to catch her with the grace of forgiveness, and invites her to sin no more – not just for the next half hour, or the next day – but for the rest of her life!  He catches her in the act of sorrow, offers healing and freedom, and has her claim her new way of being woman – believing in herself – and knowing that God believes in her!

He then stands and turns only to prepare himself to have the “rocks of lies” cast at him as he moves deeper into the week named Passover. There he will be “caught in the act” of being betrayed, judged, stripped, crucified, buried – but already making plans to break the Law once again by not staying dead – for no stone can keep God’s power contained or from loving us!

A Candlelight prayer . . .

http://doriskleincsa.com/  Image by Doris Klein., CSA

 Softening the Soul

(by Robert J. Wicks)

Lighting a candle
in a dark room
is a small gentle act of peace.

When the match touches the wick,
time slows down
and the race to the future ceases.

Worries are consumed
anxiety burns out
and I sigh deeply.

Watching the flickering light
is a graceful prayer
which eases my stress and lessens my strain.

Finally when the flame goes out
I turn quietly back,
to the events of the day

And find everything changed because of the time
I sat softening my soul
...by candlelight.

 http://www.robertjwicks.com/

                                     http://www.paulistpress.com/Products/5213-4/softening-the-soul.aspx                                                  

                                                                         Snow Falling on Snow Bookmark                                                                           

Used with permission

Reflections on the Prodigal Son . . .

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Ivor Williams (1908-1982)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivor_Williams

The Mother of the Prodigal Son

Where is the mother of the prodigal son
On that day so long ago?
What were her thoughts
And what were her fears
As she watched him turn to go?

How many times in the dark of night
Did the tears slide down her face?
Did she get out of bed
And fall on her knees,
Just to pray that her boy was safe?

How were the days when she did not know
Was he alive? Was he warm? Was he well?
Who were his friends?
And where did he sleep?
Was there anyone there she could tell?

But, oh, on that day when she looked down the road
As she had looked since her son went away,
Did love unspeakable flood her soul?
Did she cry?
What did she say?

I think when the father had welcomed their son
And the boy had greeted his brother,
That the servants made a path
For him to enter the door
And the waiting arms of his mother. Author: Chis