Solemnity of Mary

Solemnity of Mary
January 1, 2006

"The LORD bless you and keep you! The LORD let his face shine uponyou, and be gracious to you! The LORD look upon you kindly and give you peace!" (Numbers 8: 22-27). "God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” (Galatians 4:4-7).. "Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart." (Luke 2: 16-21).

The Most High gives this beautiful blessing to Moses for the benefit of the people. The people feared that looking upon God, or indeed even uttering the divine name would result in their annihilation. But here they are promised that being exposed to God's countenance will bring peace and abundance. This is not an angry God to be feared and appeased, but one of gentleness and kindness.

St. Paul echoes this when he reflects on the result of receiving the Spirit of God. The blessing we receive is the right to address God as a fortunate child would a kindly and familiar father or mother, easily approached for what we need. How did we ever get the idea that God is a fearful and punishing judge waiting for us to make a mistake? Or that parents' primary responsibility is to be the same? Divine authority comes from divine love. Whatever authority we might have in the lives of others can only derive from imitating our divine parent. The right to advise and correct is earned by first learning to love as we are loved by God.

This is one of the compelling aspects of the story of the shepherds discovering the infant Messiah in the warmth and security of loving devoted parents. We all long for this experience and when we receive it, treasure it up, like Mary, in our hearts to keep us going when times get dark and difficult. Mary and Joseph were privileged to give birth to the Messiah. They accepted this assignment knowing, I'm sure, that they were not going to be perfect parents. They relied on their trust in a kind, gentle and forgiving God to supply the rest.

I think about this as I watch my own mom, now nearly 86 years old and doing her best to assimilate the inevitable ravages of aging. In spite of not having the benefit of this warmth and security in her own childhood, she nevertheless has been able to provide it for her children. This was no doubt in some measure due to her relationship with our dad who died many years ago but still lives in our hearts. Together they were able to surmount their human limitations enough to provide their children with the ability to believe in the God of love and kindness. Like all of us, not perfect but plenty good enough to get the job done. Their "Abba" became ours, in many different forms. Even if denied this gift of reasonably selfless parents, we all have the blessing of the kindly face of the Most High bringing light and warmth to mind and heart.

Christmas

Christmas
December 25, 2005

"... people who walked in darkness have seen a great light... for a child is born to us... His dominion is vast and forever peaceful," (Isaiah 9:1-6). Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and... said to them, "Do not be afraid;" (Luke 2:1-14)

There are some times when we recognize (believe it or not!) that words fail us and we decide to allow the liturgical symbolism, and the divine reality which it carries, to speak for itself. The celebration of the birth of Christ may certainly be one of those times. The prophet's hymn of praise for the Messiah suggests this when it contrasts human darkness and the light of the Most High. No matter how many wonderful titles we bestow, the reality of God's life within and among us is always elusive even as it points us in the right direction.

There are wonderful traditions even in our secular celebrations of the "holiday season", most especially our encouragement of attitudes of peace, reconciliation, home and hearth. We might be inclined to forget how many people do not enjoy these gifts at this or indeed any time of year. The expectations for peace and joy are often pretty unrealistic. As if all the problems we encounter during the rest of the year are supposed to magically evaporate as they do in the movies. As a matter of fact many of us find that the conflict seems to increase under the weight of these expectations. Relationship problems, alcohol abuse, long-standing animosities and the like rarely go on holiday.

Yet we know there is something more to this season. Religion often strives to remove us from the darkness and confusion of this life and take us "up" to the divine. The coming of the Messiah is God's decision instead to join created reality, becoming human in every sense of the word. All of the details of our story suggest this by emphasizing the powerlessness of human experience: an infant Jesus, poor and displaced parents, impoverished and uneducated shepherds and their animals. If we miss this point Christmas becomes simply another compelling but quaint folk legend easily exploited for commercial and sentimental purposes, over and forgotten for another year on December 26.

The Most High has taken up residence within and around us. Like the shepherds, we have nothing to fear. It is already a time of peace, joy and light because our God is here with us. May we be warmed by the fire of the birth of this living God.

Fourth Sunday Advent

Fourth Sunday Advent
December 18, 2005

"...Here I am living in a house of cedar, while the ark of God dwells in a tent!... I will fix a place for my people Israel..." (2 Samuel 7). "...you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus." (Luke 1:26-38)

The passage from Samuel expresses our ambivalence about where the Most High should and does live. David had a magnificent palace built for himself in Jerusalem, while God continues to dwell in a tent until his son Solomon built the Temple. His holy people eventually came to regard the Temple as God's new sacred dwelling place. But the people's heart remained attached also to the ancient tradition of Yahweh moving about with them as they traveled from place to place, living among them in a tent like their own, rather than above them.

This can serve to remind us of our own ambivalence about where God lives. We build our churches and, if we are not careful, begin to think that they are the only place where God is found. They certainly become sacred places because God and God's people meet there. Nevertheless we can become so attached to these buildings that we may forget that the true dwelling place of God is in the hearts of people of faith, wherever we gather in the faith, hope and love.

Gabriel, the messenger from the Most High, reveals that the Messiah descended from David, will live in the womb of Mary deepening the tradition of God living among us in an even more intimate way. Not only humans being given divine life, but, unbelievably, God experiencing being human. The son of God becomes one of us, living in our bodies and our communities wherever faith, hope and love are alive and well. These are fragile homes, made lasting by the Holy Spirit. In God we live now, in God we die, in God we live forever.

I have been reminded of this over the past week, as two very special people with "terminal" illness look ahead to the final moment of this life. My friend Steve White died after 10 years with ALS, in the presence of his wife Janice and his family. Steve and Janice have been a model for many of us, teaching us how to survive and thrive with this disease. They invited us to their home while I was still walking around to see what they had done to accommodate to Steve's paralysis. Now we do the same for other couples just beginning to assimilate what is and will be happening in their lives, changed by this disease. His work on our behalf, especially the Portland Chapter of ALSA and the ALS Clinic at Providence Hospital, will continue to live in our hearts and bodies. I often communicated with Steve, seeking his advice about the next step of adaptation to changes brought about by our disease. He was not inclined to get all misty eyed about this serious business but he had a great sense of humor. I will miss him, not only for his practical advice, but for his courageous spirit.

Third Sunday Advent

Third Sunday of Advent
December 11, 2005

"... In my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation and wrapped me in a mantle of justice...." (Isaiah 61 1-11). "Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks... Do not quench the Spirit. " (I Thessalonians 5: 16.-24)

These passages draw our attention to prophecy, divine life within us, and the prayer which emerges from it. Prophecy is not primarily about predicting the future. The prophet's visions are meant to interpret the "signs of the times" in relationship to the love and justice of the Most High. Some of us like Isaiah and John the Baptist have received a special gift for going to the heart of things. John, for example, saw something divine and unique in Jesus long before it was obvious to most others. We all have a prophetic inclination whenever we make our own observations and predictions about the times we live in. Especially when these are intended to remind ourselves, rather than others, about what is important. Our own little "prophecies" are only as true as our personal progress in allowing the Holy Spirit to overtake our most treasured opinions.

What must it be like to experience, as a permanent state, God as the "joy of my soul", to "pray without ceasing", or to be thankful for everything? These ironically are experiences obtained neither by striving for them, nor by praying really hard. We often talk of "storming the gates of heaven" with many prayers. We pray compulsively with many words, pleading, demanding, bargaining, requesting favors and indulgence. There are times when it seems as if all these words are inclined to "quench the spirit "within us, rather than evoke it. As if God does not already know what we need and don't need. As if we need to remind God about all the problems we face. This kind of prayer may make us feel better because we are "doing something".

Another kind of prayer leaves a space of silent attention, waiting to be filled with God's presence and all the wonderful things which come from it, even in the midst of adversity. Recall the familiar story of the old woman sitting in the back of the church day after day. When asked what she was doing there, she replied that she was looking at God and God was looking at her. Often the most effective prayer is simply putting ourselves, and those we love, in God's presence. Praying without ceasing is a gift bestowed upon a heart willing to speak less, try less, and trust more. It is to allow ourselves to be "clothed" in God's life, "wrapped" in divine justice. How else could we possibly be capable of gratitude for everything that happens in our lives? God, in the divine Son, has come, is coming and will come to dress us up in Christmas peace, love and justice.