Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Pentecost

Pentecost
June 4, 2006

"... suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind... Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire..." (Acts 2:1-11). There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit" (I Cor 12). "He breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. (John 20: 19-23)

Pentecost comes at the end of the Easter season and it is the beginning of the mystery of the resurrection. There have been times in my life when I have had difficulty with the divine Christ. Then I remember that Jesus said that he must go away so the Spirit could come. That has always been very comforting, losing something and getting even more back. This coming of the Holy Spirit is richer than our words or thoughts. We come closest to grasping it when we describe it with images.

The Spirit comes like a "tongue" of fire. God transforms our speech and the thoughts which speaking represent. Sometimes the best words are those which go unspoken. In this sense, those of us who experience the diminishment of voice and speech may be fortunate. Painful and purifying. Destroying and creating. I'm also reminded each time I successfully dictate another document into my computer in spite of diminished voice volume, how precious is the gift of speech and how easily it can be wasted. "Create a clean heart in me, oh God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me".

The Spirit comes like a "driving wind", powerful, overwhelming, frightening. We see and feel what it does but we cannot see the wind itself. We know only by an act of trust that something even more powerful is there just beyond what we can perceive. Jesus breathes his own spirit into the disciples and they become new beings. Breath is life, fragile but tenacious. The Spirit comes like Yahweh the creator breathing life into the oceans, bringing about living beings which reflect divine beauty. I've become aware of this when the rhythm of my friendly respirator, now an almost constant companion, supports my diminished capacity to do it for myself. I am receiving the breath of life made possible only by the generosity and technological genius of others. In reality we are all completely dependent upon the Holy Spirit for every breath we take.

The Spirit comes when, like the apostles, we are all together. Then the fire of the Spirit divides and differentiates bestowing its presence on each individual in a special and unique way. The result is unity and individuality in the same moment. Neither can exist without the other. Each fulfills the other. The Spirit holds the entire web of life together. "Come Holy Spirit and renew the face of the earth." Let us be part of the creative process which brings life and freedom to our planet.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Ascension of Christ

Ascension of Jesus
May 25, 2006

"... Why are you standing there looking at the sky." (Acts 1:1-11). "... They will drive out demons, they will speak new languages. They will pick up serpents with their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them" (Mark 16:15-20).

The angel who remains behind as Jesus is to be taken from them, apparently for the last time, asks the disciples why they are standing there gazing up into the sky. They seem momentarily paralyzed, but then are assured that he will return. In the meantime they and we must go about living with "only" his spiritual presence. The spiritual life is as much about looking around "down" here as it is looking "up" to heaven

The signs that will accompany faith in Jesus calls for some mature discernment. Simple literal interpretations have led to some rather bizarre practices, dramatic but of questionable everyday relevance. Perhaps we are to see these as signs of the spiritual courage of believers. God is a part of our lives when we confront threatening and terrifying realities far more dangerous than poisonous snakes. Spiritual language is more than strange sounds uttered for a privileged few. A few examples come to mind.

Facing a painful, debilitating or life-changing illness or injury.
Praying when surrounded by nothing but hopelessness and doubt.
Risking one's body, health, convenience or treasure for the sake of another.
Having the courage to openly oppose the poison of injustice, oppression and prejudice, even when these occur among our own families, friends, churches, workplaces, communities.
Getting old, frail, confused, isolated, useless.
Losing something or someone of great value, especially when it comes as a surprise or at the worst possible time.
Enduring emotionally excruciating abuse or abandonment, or remembering this suddenly, and not being believed.
Looking at one's own mistakes instead of others'
Being open to a world beyond church and religion.
Speaking and hearing the language of love, compassion, truth, wisdom and self-restraint

The Ascension of Christ is much more than an amazing story of defiance of gravity. It is a part of the true story of death and rebirth, loss and gain, hope out of despair, light out of darkness, of God's fidelity in spite of all appearances to the contrary.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Sixth Sunday of Easter
May 21, 2006

“In truth, I see that God shows no partiality. Rather, in every nation whoever fears him and acts uprightly is acceptable to him.” (Acts 10) "... not that we have loved God, but that he loved us." (I John 4: 7-10) "It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you." (John 15:9-17)

The disciples had their first disagreement over who should be eligible to be called followers of Jesus. Should it be only for observant Jews, or for non-Jews (i.e., everyone else) as well? Peter, after prayer and reflection during this time of conflict and confusion is led to the conclusion we read here. "God shows no partiality.". Jesus' words and life are for all humankind. God's benevolence and favor are available for everyone. This issue of whether divine life is "just for us" or universally available regardless of the form it takes is still present in our own time. It seems that the teachings of many great religious figures get distorted by our need to possess and control them for ourselves only. This is a kind of spiritual and religious tribalism: only our own words and rituals count for anything. We will torture, kill and consign you to hell if you do not accept this.

We would like to believe that we are especially chosen to spread the truth. We are, and we are not. One good way of assessing whether we are fooling ourselves is to ask how certain we are about the rightness of our cause. Certitude is a strange phenomenon. The stronger it is, the less likely it is to be close to the truth. There are always many more questions than answers. Another personal spiritual self evaluation might be to observe how much and how many we exclude from our ideas about who God is choosing. As we mature in the faith and the spiritual life we become more open to the many ways which God chooses people, and the many forms of truth. The way of the world and the flesh is to become less so.

Jesus expresses a fundamental spiritual truth: God chooses us. Our decisions are secondary to that choice. Our Catholic tradition has reflected on this issue many times. During the 16th and 17th centuries for example, we argued about whether true spirituality was a matter of exercising free will and ascetical practices or of waiting for God's initiative constitute the true spiritual way. Which comes first, our choice or God's? What we came to was: the Spirit moves, we respond. We would like to think that our efforts and sacrifices bring us closer to God. Only God brings us to God. I am reminded of this every time I must, because of my total physical dependence on others, wait for them to take the initiative to provide even the simplest needs, like the placement of my head, hands and arms. All I can do is smile and acknowledge that I am OK. Surely this is a metaphor for our total dependence on God's initiative in the deepest recesses of our souls. The only adequate response is gratitude.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Fifth Sunday of Easter
May 14, 2006

"... But they were all afraid of him, not believing that he was a disciple." (Acts 9:26-31). Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth. (I John 3:18-21). Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine so neither can you unless you remain in me." (John 15:1-8)

Paul had undergone a profound change of attitude as a result of his conversion experience. People were having a difficult time accepting that he could speak with the same authority as the original disciples specifically chosen by Jesus. Would he suddenly turn on them again? How could such a recent enemy suddenly assume the same authority as those who had been through it all with Jesus? He could not have done this by himself. Barnabas, a trusted disciple vouches for his authenticity and he is accepted as one of them. Paul is the first of those, like us, who could claim the rights of discipleship without ever having known the historical Jesus. He does this by virtue of a different kind of knowing, entirely mystical, hidden in the Spirit of God. His "credentials" are his transformation from violence and power to weakness and dependence.

Jesus in the gospel passage from John compares our relationship to Himself and his Father with a grapevine. The Most High is the gardener. Jesus is the "vine" rooted in God. We are shoots off of the plant. In some mysterious way we are as interdependent with him as he is with his Father. We all need each other for the whole thing to prosper. Religion in spirit and truth is a corporate reality based on mutual responsibilities of love in word and action. Together we live. Apart we die.

We can understand this metaphor of the vine and branches in another way. Without pruning the grapevine produces lots of greenery but little fruit. We all have personal habits of thinking and acting which no longer serve any real purpose, even if they once did. We might think of our supposedly "bad habits" in this way. To stay healthy and productive some of these shoots must be snipped away even if they have some life in them. This is a painful process. No one likes to deliberately cut away something living. I have been "pruned" of a few formerly very useful abilities, like muscle strength, breath and independence, to make room for new things. From where I am now, I would not care to return to this former way of life as satisfying as it was at the time. The pruning has had the desired effect, a much more lush plant, more dependent on the other vines in the vineyard, and productive for them. We all have similar opportunities to allow the Spirit to be with us as life presents its inevitable invitations for growth. The possibilities are endless.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Fourth Sunday of Easter
April 30, 2006

"We are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed.We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him..." (I John 3: 1-3). "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice and there will be one flock, one shepherd." (John 10: 11-18)

The Scriptures for the past several weeks have focused our attention on issues of faith and doubt. This passage from the first letter of John provides a glimpse into the mystical (hidden) relationship between God and us, present and future. We are children of God "now", anticipating, hoping for, some future state of being but not knowing what that state will be. All we know is that we shall experience God much more directly than we do now because we will be radically changed in some way. Many of us think that we have a pretty good notion of what "God" must be like, derived from our sacred traditions, and our own little personal thoughts and experiences.

One of the most common of our traditions concerns the ineffable and unknowable nature of this being upon whom we, like children, rely so completely for our very existence All religious traditions acknowledge in one way or another how inadequate our language and ideas are when we talk or think about "God". This does not seem to keep us from arguing and fighting endlessly about something that has not yet been revealed. All we know is that it will be something much different than what we expect. When it comes to what that will be there are no experts. As I grew older I find that one mark of a mature spiritual life is my acceptance of what is and is not knowable about God. In some ways I've become more certain, in other ways less.

This leads us into Jesus' statement that he has "other sheep" to which he must also attend. Apparently our own communities are not the only ones of concern to God. History is full of examples of religious groups, large and small, proclaiming that they are the authentic flock to which all must conform in order to be "one". Somehow we Catholics have gotten it into our heads that we are the only ones who understand the truth about the way to God. The only legacy of this history is alienation, violence and death. Actually, our own teaching about this from the Vatican Council is that anyone who seeks the truth is "in some way linked to the church". We start the search for God from the truest and best in our own sacred teachings. Another mark of mature spirituality is the humility to look for truth wherever it may be found. Perhaps it would be a sign of real movement toward the kingdom of God when we are able to affirm that the flock of Christ is all human beings who long for truth, goodness, beauty and justice.