Friday, February 28, 2020

Desert Faithfulness . . .

 

 
First Sunday of Lent ~

In our CSA Constitutions, in the section on Formation and Membership, there is written this theology statement:
Transitions of every sort mark our lives. We try to recognize in each of them a graced moment in our ongoing formation, one in which we can live out the paschal mystery and build the kingdom of God. (#58)


Some transitions are inevitable in our human experience, some are probable, and others are possible but perhaps not likely.  Birth, adolescence, mid-life, senior life, death.   All are transitions that are natural to every human experience, given an average life span. 

Yes, transitions of every sort mark our lives.
We continue to encounter transitions in which we are invited to name our present reality as we evolve into the future,  and even more so today as we dialogue with contemplative hearts in preparing for our future Chapter days.


Transitions always begin with endings that place us in an in-between space – or a liminality that is uncomfortable, uncertain, disorienting; there may be a loss of a sense of identity, and oftentimes we can experience a change in our relationship with ourselves and perhaps with God as well. 

In her book, Journey of the Soul, Sister Doris Klein speaks of transitions with the following words:
“When we face those times of uncertainty in our life, the scene is often blurry.  Things we were so sure of suddenly make little sense.  The answers we thought were clear now seem lost in a distant fog, and we wander aimlessly, unable to regain the focus we once believed we had.


Our confusion is unsettling.  Doubt, like vertigo, distorts our balance as we fearfully wander in a vast and empty inner wilderness.  As we wrestle with the darkness, a rush of panic washes into our hearts, our breath becomes shallow and, with each question, the judgments seem to escalate.”

Here in our Gospel, we find Jesus smack dab in the midst of transition – and “knee deep” in liminal space.  This could be considered his novitiate, or sabbatical time, a vision quest, or the Spirit’s idea of boot camp for prophets.

After Jesus heard God call him “My Beloved” at his baptism, we are told that the Spirit drove him into the desert to discover what it would mean to be God’s Beloved. It is here in this wilderness that his spiritual, psychological, and personal inner strength is challenged by the tempter who is the master of delusion, denial, and lies, and who is taunting him to choose the “dark side.” 

Jesus’ desert drama is a struggle that will prepare him for all that awaits him in his public ministry and mission as the Anointed One. 

He will carry no light saber or magic wand to ward off the stones of critics, opponents, or enemies that find him too much for them.

Here in the wilderness, he has fasted for forty days and forty nights.  It is here on the margins of the city that he will wrestle with the demons of hunger, power, prestige, possessions, and fame. In his physical emptiness, he is made vulnerable in his title as Beloved.

He is confronted by the tempter to turn stones into bread – a temptation that entices him to believe that if his hunger would be satisfied with earthly pleasures – it will be enough. 


It is here in the school of the desert that he chooses the emptiness of letting go of all that satisfied him in the past – namely his relationships of his village, his family, his simple life of carpentry, his privacy, his identity.

Jesus, alone in the desolate wilderness where he is without food or water, and is stripped of all his securities, remembers and embraces the words of love he heard upon rising from the waters of the Jordan. . . You are my Beloved . . .God alone becomes his sustenance.

For Jesus all of the comfortable, familiar, and secure have ended.  He refuses to give in to the tempter of illusion and is nourished again by the voice and words of God - for his journey will be one of feeding the hungry in spirit, mind, and body with the bread of his words.

His second temptation is to doubt God’s abiding love. Jesus is challenged to test whether or not God is really trustworthy.  Jumping from the pinnacle of the temple would gain Jesus instant acclaim as a wonder worker, winning over the multitudes. But Jesus stands firm.  He refuses to give in to self-destruction and self-hatred and chooses to remain faithful to God, trusting God’s unconditional love.

Finally, the tempter shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and taunts that if he is God’s Beloved, why not be popular, famous, and have a chance to be a rock star? 

This is a subtle temptation for domination and power, to become an owner of everything, having control of everyone, in charge of life itself.  The price demanded by the tempter for all the kingdoms of the world was to worship him. Jesus again says that being the Beloved is all that he needs and he chooses faithfulness to God.


So what is the Good News for us? 
As one author writes . . .
“To struggle is to begin to see the world differently.   It gives us a new sense of self.  It tests all the faith in the goodness of God that we have ever professed.  It requires an audacity we did not know we had. 
It demands a commitment to the truth. It builds forbearance. It tests our purity of heart. It brings total metamorphosis of soul.
If we are willing to persevere through the depths of struggle we can emerge with conversion, faith, courage, surrender, self-acceptance, endurance, and a kind of personal growth that takes us beyond pain to understanding.  Enduring struggle is the price to be paid for becoming everything we are meant to be in the world.” (Joan Chittister)


Let us ponder:
As individuals, as a community, a church, as people of this shared planet . . . how do we face struggles with the hungers, illusions, and powers of temptation that confront us every day? 

• What struggles do we face at this juncture of “in-betweenness” and liminality? Can we accept the challenges: to name them, realize their impact, and consequences? 
Then, how will we choose to walk with trust, hope, and audacity into the now and not-yet?

• What is the grace we desire at this time, at the beginning of Lent, as we prepare to move through the paschal mystery?
• What gifts within our present transitions are we invited to claim?  Are we able to surrender to this time of conversion, allowing angels to minister to us and to nourish us with God’s Word and the faith of one another, letting go of the needs and desires that may separate us from God?
• Finally, as we enter this desert time of transitions, let us ask for the graces we need to rekindle our love of God and God’s mission; for God is tenderly, lovingly, unceasingly speaking to our spirits: You are my beloved!

So let us pray:
• Transitions of every sort mark our lives. We try to recognize in each of them a graced moment in our ongoing formation, one in which we can live out the paschal mystery and build the kingdom of God. (#58)

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Ash Wednesday ~ A Moveable Feast . . .



“Certain pieces of our journey are moveable feasts.” (Fran Dorff)

There was a time, long, long ago – in fact, in the past century - ( or should I say, "in a galaxy far, far away) . . .that I recall an Ash Wednesday liturgy, when the presider at the beginning of his homily asked: “What things in your life have turned into ashes?”  At that moment, I thought I was the only one in the assembly and that he was speaking directly to me. You see, I had just finished three months of a sabbatical time and was struggling with what was to happen next in my life? I asked myself often: Who am I now?

However, before I stepped into that Sabbath time, I experienced a “dying” – a drastic letting go ~ for so much of my life had turned into ashes. I can’t begin to name all the pieces that collided together to create this tectonic shift in my life.
But each held a challenge, a gift, grace and wisdom!

It seemed that so many things to which I had held tightly for purpose and passion had “turned into ashes” and that I was experiencing my own desert. And yet, “cathartically,” there was the phone call from my superior  (at just the right time) who told me to take things easy and don’t rush into getting a new ministry. Ah, she didn’t forget me! She gave me her own intimate psychological hug - that is, time, attention, and understanding!! 
Then there were openings that came as volunteer opportunities which led to other possibilities for my potential to unfold in such a way that I had no idea of the transformative grace that was now being heaped upon my very spirit. Ah, God had not forgotten me and was loving me into a “holy newness.”


Then, during the liturgy, I remembered coming back to consciousness; (I  believe I missed hearing the homily in total). However, at the end of his reflection, I recall the presider’s final question. It was this: “What in your life is God asking you to turn into ashes?” With that question, I became aware that I was now marked with a cross of ashes, and invited to move out from there with renewed courage, trust, inspiration, hope, creativity, and the grace to honor the ashes that marked my path to Easter joy!

So what is the good news for us on this Ash Wednesday?

Let us ponder:
• What things have turned into ashes in your life?
• What things now is God asking you to turn into ashes?
• May we all have a blessed Lent of Holy Newness!


“But is there a transformation-truth
in this experience of ashes?
Yes, for in the ashes is a story of resurrection.
Yes, for in the ashes is strength about rising.
For remember, you are dust
and to dust you shall return.
For Ash Wednesday is a moveable feast.
A day to celebrate ashes and Easter!
For remember, you are loved,
And to Love you shall return.
For Easter is a moveable feast!”
Sjh 1995

A Prayer for Mardi Gras . . .


Mardi Gras Prayer

Blessed are you, God of all creation,
for it is from your goodness that we have this day
to celebrate on the threshold of the Season of Lent.
Tomorrow we will fast and abstain from meat.

Today we feast.
We thank you for the abundance of gifts you shower upon us.
We thank you especially for one another.
As we give you thanks,
we are mindful of those who have so much less than we do.

As we share these wonderful gifts together,
we commit ourselves to greater generosity toward those
who need our support.
Prepare us for tomorrow.
Tasting the fullness of what we have today,
let us experience some hunger tomorrow.

May our fasting make us more alert
and may it heighten our consciousness
so that we might be ready to hear your Word
and respond to your call.

As our feasting fills us with gratitude
so may our fasting and abstinence hollow out in us
a place for deeper desires
and an attentiveness to hear the cry of the poor.
May our self-denial turn our hearts to you
and give us a new freedom for
generous service to others.

We ask you these graces
with our hearts full of delight
and stirring with readiness for the journey ahead.
We ask them with confidence
in the name of Jesus the Lord. 

(Creighton University)
https://onlineministries.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/Lent/

For Ash Wednesday . . .

 
 
 
 
Will You Meet Us?

Will you meet us
In the ashes,
Will you meet us
In the ache
And show your face
Within our sorrow
And offer us
Your word of grace:
 
That you are life
Within the dying,
That you abide
Within the dust,
That you are what
Survives the burning,
That you arise
To make us new.
 
And in our aching,
You are breathing;
And in our weeping,
You are here,
Within the hands
That bear your blessing,
Enfolding us
Within your love.
 
From: Circle of Grace by Jan Richardson

Sunday, February 16, 2020

Karon VanAntwerp Latham Preaches for Ash Wednesday


Heartful Listening . . .




There once was a farmer who discovered that he had lost his watch in the barn. It was no ordinary watch because it had sentimental value for him.

After searching high and low among the hay for a long while; he gave up and enlisted the help of a group of children playing outside the barn.

He promised them that the person who found it would be rewarded.

Hearing this, the children hurried inside the barn, went through and around the entire stack of hay but still could not find the watch. Just when the farmer was about to give up looking for his watch, a little boy went up to him and asked to be given another chance.

The farmer looked at him and thought, “Why not? After all, this kid looks sincere enough.”

So the farmer sent the little boy back in the barn. After a while the little boy came out with the watch in his hand! The farmer was both happy and surprised and so he asked the boy how he succeeded where the rest had failed.

The boy replied, “I did nothing but sit on the ground and listen. In the silence, I heard the ticking of the watch and just looked for it in that direction.”
(Author Stephen, 2013, source unknown)

Living Lent . . .

A reporter was covering that tragic conflict in the middle of Sarajevo, and he saw a little girl shot by a sniper. The reporter threw down his pad and pencil, and stopped being a reporter for a few minutes. He rushed to the man who was holding the child, and helped them both into his car.

As the reporter stepped on the accelerator, racing to the hospital, the man holding the bleeding child said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still alive."

A moment or two later, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing."

A moment later, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm."

Finally, "Hurry. Oh my God, my child is getting cold."

When they got to the hospital, the little girl had died. As the two men were in the lavatory, washing the blood off their hands and their clothes, the man turned to the reporter and said, "This is a terrible task for me. I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken."

The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man and said, "I thought she was your child."

The man looked back and said, "No, but aren't they all our children?"
(Source/author unknown)