God of All Consolation

God of All Consolation

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows, so that we can offer others, in their sorrows, the consolation that we have received from God ourselves.  Indeed, as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so, through Christ, does our consolation overflow.” (2Corinthians 1:3-5)

              This faith proclamation of St. Paul sings the praises of our Triune God: of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior; of God our Father, who is Supremely Gentle in his plans for us; and of the Holy Spirit, our God of All Consolation, The Comforter, the Companion of Our Soul -made present to us in all our sorrows.

 It can be argued that the most profound and deepest intimacy known is not found in love, but in shared suffering.  So it is that our Suffering Christ loves us from the Cross.

In the heart wrenching moment when Jesus was leaving this Earth, as his disciples were feeling lost in sorrow, he promised that he would ask the Father to send us the Paraklete: the One-Called-Alongside; the Comforter; the Strengthener; the Helper; the Encourager.  This Promised One, this Gift of Peace, this Spirit of Jesus and his Gentle Father, is given that we will never be orphaned in our need; that in all our sorrows will he be made known.  

         St. Paul, in this letter to the Corinthians, was not concerned with delivering them from suffering; only in leading them into the Transcendent Truth –that we are not alone in our suffering, rather, the tender, gentle Love of God overflows from our suffering, and he meets us there in the Intimacy of His Cross.

         The Good News Revealed is that not only are we not helpless victims of suffering, but because of knowing the Saving Love of God in our deepest pain, we become Conquerors of Death, Overcomers in adversity -Witnesses of his Saving Grace- able to  shine his Light into the hearts of others darkened by suffering.  The Spirit’s Gift of Faith is not just for our personal consolation.  After raising us up, he then sends us forth to share his Hope.

         For those of us who have seen God’s miraculous healings, we are tempted to expect that we, or our loved ones, be spared from all suffering.  Yet, Paul was not ashamed of his sufferings or that of his beloved Corinthians.  He knew that, unless the muscles of an athlete were torn by hard training, they could not grow stronger.  He knew that without trial, character cannot take root.  And he knew The Secret, that God is intimately involved in our pain, even more than in our joy -because that is where we need him the most, because our God is a Gentle Father.

         St. Paul lived life to the full.  He expected a lot from God.  He was fearless –undaunted by the impossible.  His uncompromised faith left a legacy to the Church that is still unfolding two millennia later.  Yet, Paul was familiar with trial, failure, rejection, persecution and suffering.  Three times he asked God to deliver him from a thorn in his flesh and God refused him, telling him he was strongest when he was weak. (2Cor 12/8)

         St. Paul was larger than life because he lived as if he were nothing without God.  He accomplished the impossible because he knew all things were possible with Christ.  He was unfazed by failure because he knew all things work out for the good for those who love God.  He believed that God was Faithful, that his promises were true.  Paul had Faith in God’s Love.

         Faith is everything.  It defines our eternity.  It is our vocation.  It is the key to eternal life.  It is the only thing required of us.  It gives order to our chaos.  It is what makes us pleasing to God.  It is Faith that allows us to love.  It is Faith that opens us to Truth.  And, it is for Faith that that we suffer -because without suffering, there can be no Faith.

         Suffering cracks open our ego -exposing the truth within ourselves: that ultimately we are powerless; that our self sufficiency is an illusion.  It is suffering that opens our eyes to our need for God, to our dependence on him for our breath.  True Faith is born out of desperation.  For me, I did not trust in God’s Provisional Love until I suffered enough to exhaust all other options for Hope.  Even now, I am most prone to Sin when things are going my way -when I am lured into Forgetfulness and let go the Hand of God who is saving me.

          Contrary to the Unbeliever’s cry, suffering is congruent with our Gentle Father’s heart.  In his Mercy, he shepherds our suffering, gently allowing us to be brought to our knees –to a posture where we in turn allow ourselves to be found by him.  It is the Desperate Heart which is open to Grace.  It is the Broken Heart that searches for God.  It is the Redeemed Heart which truly exults in the God of All Consolation, and, it is this Transformed Heart which offers authentic witness to his Love.

Forged In Fire

Forged In Fire

“No one can come to me unless he is drawn by the Father who sent me, and I will raise him on the last day.” (John 6:44)

         Jesus tells us that His Spirit blows where it pleases, that like the wind, we cannot see it coming.  Neither do we know where he might lead us when as submit our mind to his Word in prayer.  He comes ‘in the moment’ -when we are not dressed; when we are weak; when we least expect to hear His Voice…

         I have been watching a series called Forged in Fire.  It is about metalsmiths who form magnificent swords out of common discarded steel.  They begin by selecting the combination of metals that will produce the qualities they desire; then heat them in a fire until molten and white; then it is cooled to a blood-red soft ingot, where its impurities have floated to the top forming a black crust; this then flakes off as it is hammered and drawn (stretched) into a shape resembling a sword.  

Many trips to the furnace are required before it takes on the desired form.  Only then is the blood red sword immersed in a bath of oil, where the quenching process transforms its natural state into a super hard yet flexible material.  But this is not the end.  It is hammered again for straightness, then ground away at, until a perfect geometry is achieved which has a razor sharp edge to cut while still retaining a spine for the strength to survive a life of shocking blows.  Only after many hard hours of labor does the metalsmith’s arm raise up a gleaming work of art.  

         …And so it was with these images in mind, and reflecting on the morning’s reading from John 6:46, that the Spirit blew through my life-jumbled thoughts and allowed me to perceive, to peak, to glimpse into his Purpose for suffering.  

         As the raw metal is heated, hammered and drawn into a work of art, so must we be melted, beaten down and ‘drawn by the Father’.  Like the steel, we did not ask to be brought into existence -we were chosen.  And like the steel, we cannot delight in the hammer’s blow.  But unlike the steel, we, with our gift of sentience, must choose to conform to the Divine Purpose which preceded our being, or, cling to our smallness.  Either way, we will encounter suffering; but only in the former will our suffering bring us to Eternal Life -where our Creator can say, ‘I will raise him on the last day’ …like a gleaming Work of Art. [To suffer in God's way means changing for the better and leaves no regrets, but to suffer as the world knows suffering brings death. (2Cor 7:10)]  Only Faith in the Master’s tender love, will secure a future of Hope… “We know that by turning everything to their good God co-operates with all those who love him, with all those that he has called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

         These reflections of suffering brought me back to a moment, decades past, though still present…

It was a painful time –of brokenness and loss.  I had just given my life to God, and he, was pulling me out of a deep, dark hole.  I was recovering from a life apart from God, and, from the death of my brother Stan.  I had a chemistry exam the next morning and tears were keeping me from reading the words on the textbook.  What was most tearing at my soul was the profound sadness my mother was enduring.  Stan was the second son she had lost, and now it seemed she was lost to grief.  I was angry.  I could not come to grips with the injustice.  Why must my mother suffer for being guilty of love?  

It was an overwhelming time.  I felt stuck in the hurt.  I felt unbearably alone.  I turned away from my textbook and just stared the Crucifix on my dresser.  It was in this broken moment that the Mercy of God spoke.  His Voice issued forth from the Cross.  Twice in my life have I heard the Voice of God, both, in times of brokenness.  In that darkness he said, “I suffered for you.”  

At the time, I did not understand what those Words meant, but they awakened me to a knowing that I was not suffering alone.  An Unspoken Truth was instilled into my spirit –that the suffering I bore was also being borne by The One who has walked that Hill before me.  Those Words did not carry theological meaning then, only Peace.  The hurt was still there, but the weight and anger was lifted.  Instead of feeling crushed by the suffering, I strangely felt like it was part of a larger purpose.  These were not thoughts in my natural mind, but rather an experience in my soul.  The thoughts would come much later.

God does not make us suffer.  Suffering is a condition of Life –it is part of the Privilege of being called into Existence.  All creation suffers.  Mountains are eroded into sand and steel is suffered into swords; animals suffer; innocent children suffer; and we, with our capacity to sin, have an even greater capacity to suffer.  The fundamental question of life is not, ‘Why do we suffer?’ but, ‘How can we suffer?’

Jesus, Creator of the Cosmos, who embraced the condition of his creatures, showed us how to suffer.  Even more, he bore our suffering for us.  On that Cross he took on the Suffering of Humanity –past, present and to come.  In assuming our suffering he was consumed into Death.  And through his Resurrection, he, who joined himself to our Death, now joins us to his New Life.  As we are joined to him, so too, our suffering is joined to his Cross –in a way that is as sacrificial as it is healing.

Through our Faith in the Resurrection, we now have the Grace, the Gift, to transcend our suffering –not to escape it, but to deflect its Death into Life- so much so, that our suffering is Redeemed; Re-Purposed; Transformed; and we can now in truth proclaim the Privilege of participating (as a Mystery Revealed but not grasped) in the Salvific Cross of our Savior. “The Spirit himself and our spirit bear united witness that we are children of God.  And if we are children we are heirs as well: heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, sharing his sufferings so as to share his glory.” (Rom 8:16-17)  

Jesus, God Incarnate, suffered.  So must we -but never alone or without purpose.  That we, as creature, may not understand the Creator’s Design should not surprise.  That we, in the Pure Love of a Gentle Father, are called into an Existence which demands suffering is a Fearsome Revelation -made Glorious with the Gift of Faith.  

…      ‘No one can come to me unless he is drawn by the Father who sent me, and I will raise him on the last day’ …like a gleaming work of art.

A GOOD DAY TO DIE

A GOOD DAY TO DIE

Then to all he said, If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me. (Luke 9:23)

Lent begins with our Lord’s call to pick up our cross, and it culminates with Christ’s Passion.   In reflecting on verse twenty-three, it became apparent that not only does everyone have a cross, but that we have one every day.  And, somehow, every cross has to do with renouncing our Self.  

That each day contains a cross is not up to us.  Suffering is a condition of our existence –only to be understood in fullness when we are claimed into The Fullness.  However, Jesus’ invitation to pick up our cross clearly implies that we have choice -to embrace its suffering as we follow in His footsteps; or to reject it as an obstacle in Our path.  How am I to understand this call?  With these thoughts I settled into prayer.

“Dying is hard Lord,” I complained to God.  In my imagination, his response did not appeal to my plea for sympathy:  

“And water is wet!” he replied.  “What did you expect?  I learned obedience through suffering and so must you.  I was obedient unto death on The Cross in order that you may have Life in Truth.  As you are obedient to the death of your self-centered life, I will raise you up, and you will be born again, into New Life in me.  I am the only Way to the Father, and the Cross is the only way to me.  It is the Tree Of Life which demands your death.”

“Your obedience requires suffering death.  It requires that you trust only in my love for you –believing that you belong only in me; that you exist, not because you live, but, because I love you.  Obedience leads to the Cross, where weakness vanquishes pride and exposes the illusion of self sufficiency.”  

“The Cross is required of you, to crucify those fears and desires which imprison you within a false reality, where you are bound from trusting in my Love.  The Blood of my Cross has broken the Lies that now chain you.  Come, follow me.  Take up my cross in this season of Brokenness, of Littleness, of Sacrifice.  Bow your head unto Death.  Surrender your spirit, your hopes, your dreams, your fears and your sins.”

          “Believe in my love which eternally sustains you.  Let go!  Release your Self into the stream of Water and Blood flowing from my Wounded Heart -pierced by your sin.  Allow my Holy Spirit to wash over you, to carry you away -into my Father’s Bosom.  Now is the time, today is a good day to die into New Life.  By my stripes you are healed.  I have suffered for you.  I am suffering with you.  You are never alone in your need.  I am with you always.  Do not be afraid of today’s cross.  I bear it with you.  I had Simon of Cyrene, but you have me.   Come, see my footprints already cast –I know The Way.  The road is hard, but with me, the night has no Darkness, and your burden will be made Light.”

The Cross

The Cross

                 The Cross is a Darkened Doorway beckoning Sinners.  It is the Mysterious Interface between Fallen Humanity and the Glory of God - the blood stained rocky road of the Christian Way.  The Cross has two faces.  The face we can see is Black, Dark, Of Death –reflecting our Sin.  The face we cannot see, the side facing Glory, is Resplendent –reflecting God’s Light.  

The Cross is about Sin and Redemption; Death and Life.  It is a Pilgramage from Sin and Death into Redemption and Life.  All must take up their Cross.  We must enter into Suffering before we emerge into Glory.

It is the Promise of Glory hidden.  When we take up the Cross, there is no sense of Victory, only Defeat.  To bear the Cross is to Suffer.  There is no comfortable position.  The Cross only shows us our Sin, our Brokenness, our Smallness.  Even Jesus cried out, ‘My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?’ as the Cross swallowed him into Death. (Matthew 27:45)

No one submits to the Cross, unless bitten by Death, unless Desperate for Life.  Even then, they must first Believe –that Self, has no power over Death, no source for Good, no claim to Eternal Life.  And if then, so humbled, the Soul must yet Believe that Glory and Life can only be found in that Darkened Cross –as when the Israelites looked up upon the Bronze Serpent Moses prescribed.   They could turn, to that which was Lowly and Raised High, or die. (Numbers 21:4-9)

If the Cross is cause for Hope, it is even more so a Quandary of Faith -for, the Tree of Life is Dark Mystery.  The Cross is Mystery because its Work is contrary to its Fruit: Dying yields Life; Suffering yields Joy; Surrender yields Victory; and Obedience yields Freedom.  The Cross is Dark -we neither taste, nor see, nor feel the Saving Fruit of its Work –we must Blindly Believe we are being Saved...

...As when the Hammer Of God beats the Sword into a Plowshare (Isaiah 2:4): every blow of the Hammer disorients the Sword; each painful blow robs the Sword of its Status and Might; each transforming blow diminishes, with Unrelenting Mercy, everything the Sword once held with Pride.  The Sword is blind to its Transformation.  And even if, the Hammer Bearer should relent a peek of the Plowshare-To-Be, the vision would be reviled.

What, but desperation, would allow the Sword to submit to the hammer?  What, but Mercy, could arrange such fate?  Dare the Sword expect to understand the Cross?  No language of words can possibly explain -and to experience the Cross only blurs its meaning.  Are we then, condemned to suffer its Inexplicable Blows without the comfort of Meaning?  Was the Son of God spared Darkness in the Sixth Hour?

What mortal possesses such Virtue?  What Sinner can summon this Cross?  Who standing, can submit to its Stripes?  “…they were astonished. 'Who then, can be saved?' they asked.  Jesus gazed at them. 'For men, he told them 'this is impossible; for God, everything is possible.'” (Matthew 19:25)

In Truth, we do not choose the Cross –in Mercy, it finds us.  In Truth, we do not carry its weight –in Mercy, Jesus still bears its Burden.  “Yes, God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life.  For God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.” (John 3:16-17)

We do not save ourselves –it is the Dark Mysterious Cross, reaching through time and space, with the Eternal Loving Blood of Jesus, carrying us -as Shepherd with Lamb against breast.  No matter how Weak, or Naked, or Alone we feel in the Darkness of the Cross, the Love of Jesus secures us, as surely as  Nails to the Wood, until He brings us into Glory.

           In the end, the Cross is the Divine instrument of Mercy: bringing Meaning to our Suffering; Forgiveness for our Sins; and Healing into our lives.  It is the Portal of God’s Love, through which he snatches us …in our Desperate need to be Saved.                                                                                                                                                                                                        

My God, My God

My God, My God, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

(Mk 15:34)

         No one exits this life unmarked by its storms, without stories of their scars.  Indeed, it can be deduced with certainty, that it is our purpose to be tested –even as our Lord was allowed to be tested.

         Lent, the season which casts the shadow of the Cross, gives pause to the meaning of suffering.  The Passion and Death of our Innocent Lord, though incomprehensible, must yet be fathomed by faith before we can take hold of the Easter Promise.

         Hanging on the Cross, Jesus bore the unmerited marks of the fiercest storm ever raged, the scars of the fiercest war ever waged.  His All-Loving Father allowed him to be tested –to know torment.  Even, to be swallowed by Death.

         Jesus chose to suffer for us.  Yes, he endured an expiatory suffering for our sins, but he also suffered so that we could suffer and not die, that we can suffer and find Life.  Jesus has shown us the way –he has shown us how to suffer.

         The Greatest Lie Ever Believed is that life should be free of suffering, that if God loves us, he would not permit such an unthinkable thing.  Yet our perfect God, who perfectly loved his perfect Son, did just that.

         Our perfect God, who perfectly loves us, spoke us into existence –knowing that in this temporary home, we must be tested, that we be found to have faith, to have become obedient, to have become a Believer.  And the surest test of our faith is suffering.  What better cause is there to renounce God, than suffering?  What better cause is there to focus on Self, to abandon Hope, or to embrace Bitterness, than suffering?

         Only Faith, impregnated by suffering, will unfailingly lead us to our Crucified Lord.  And, if Faith is thus demanded, would not our Loving God, then, allow the suffering which makes it so fertile?

In our suffering, Satan would have us believe that we are forsaken by a God who does not love us.  This temptation, this Satanic Belief, is the cause of all Unbelief.  Jesus, who was like us in all ways but sin, experienced this demonic temptation, as life was draining out of his tortured and bloodied body.

         The disciples he called friends had deserted him.  His enemies, who so viciously brought him down, were mocking him.  Pain ravaged his Body, Mind and Soul.  All, as he hung naked and helpless before his mother.  His dying words gave voice to what Satan was screaming into his spirit: My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?

         This is how he felt, as Death’s Darkness was unveiled, as its gaping jaws swallowed the last light in his eyes.  No human could have felt any different.  But what he felt, did not define what he believed.  In fact, these dying words of abandonment were the opening verse of Psalm 22 –a lamenting prayer that concludes with the Joyful confidence of certain Victory, of Resurrection foretold.

         Jesus’ last words, were a favorite prayer of the downtrodden Jew familiar with suffering, and they were a fitting testament to their Savior King, the sacrificial Lamb of God.

         Jesus, in my flesh I am weak, but in you, I am strong.  In my suffering, I choose to set my eyes on you, the Seraph Raised, to join my pain to your Eternal Cross.  My mind struggles to understand, but by the Power of your Holy Spirit, through the Blood of your Cross, I can believe -that my Father loves me, that he holds before me a future full of Hope, that no matter how I may feel, the Truth of Easter reigns.  In the Shadow of your Cross is the Light of Life.

If I But Had A Sign

If I But Had A Sign

         Last night, I was tired Lord.  The day was long, and I was wearied by its pain.  In my weakness, I felt all alone.  In the darkness, a sign of your Love, I could not see.  I fell asleep telling myself it was not so.

         This morning, you opened my eyes to your blue sky.  I opened your Word, and you revived my soul.  I prayed, and your friendship was made new.

         Lord, the air I breathe, is a sign of your presence, carrying the Whisperings of your Holy Spirit.

         Every drop of rain is a sign of your Living Water, of the New Life you are offering me.

         Every star in heaven’s night is a sign of your Power over Darkness, of Hope’s victory.

         The earth I stand upon points to your Love, as you created it to sustain me.

         Even if I shut tight my eyes, and close off my ears, your Glory is sung with each beat of my heart –for I am your Sign, my Lord.  I exist to sing your Praise.  I am, because you love me.

What Is Your Name?

What Is Your Name? (Mark 5:1-25)

    Our name is our fundamental identity.  Evoking it, evokes our very personhood.  In this account by St. Mark, Jesus is disembarking from his boat after having just calmed a storm.  He encounters a man possessed by unclean spirits and asks him that most revealing question: 'What is your name?' …How do you identify yourself?  

    The man responded, 'My name is Legion, …for there are many of us.'  He identified himself as the overwhelming torment his life had become.  A Roman legion consisted of five thousand soldiers. Because of her unfaithfulness, Israel relinquished her sovereignty; she became ruled by Rome’s legion of soldiers.  So too, this man surrendered control of his life to the legion of demons in his world.

He lived among the tombs, howling through the night, inflicting wounds upon himself.  He was tormented by forces so powerful, that chains and shackles could not contain him.  The locals must have, in his earlier life, highly respected him, for why else would they have exposed themselves to the danger of trying to constrain him from hurting himself?

What sinful choices, mental illness, rejection, abuse, or life tragedy that brought this man from innocent baby to wild madman is left unaddressed.  It is ultimately unimportant.  For, as fire attracts a moth to its death, so the fire of Jesus’ Mercy drew the tormenting spirits to him, to be subjugated at his feet -as soon as those feet stepped off the boat.  What chains of steel could not contain, the power of Jesus’ Mercy inevitably quelled, as Light dispels Dark.

As the raging wind and sea was stilled by the Word of Jesus, so the unclean spirits surrendered their Reign of Torment to his Beckoning Mercy.  This tragic man, this creature of God, was not God-Forsaken.  The love of Jesus found him, lost in the Tombs Of Death.  This man, who himself was a living tomb, an Abode To Death, was in the Mystery Of Mercy, driven by Evil’s torment to the feet of Jesus -just as the herd of pigs, carrying the legion of unclean spirits were driven into the Abyss from which they came.

Jesus, I have sinned against you.  My sins, the sins of others, random acts of nature, and Minions of Darkness, in your Mercy, are chasing me to your feet, to the foot of your Cross.  Save me Jesus from my sins, from the grip of the Enemy.  Deliver me in my weakness, from the alluring distractions I find so attractive, from the Hand of Suffering you have allowed to humble me.  For all this, I thank you Lord, as I now have no hope but You!

          You delivered the man called Legion, you gave him a New Name.  You found me, lost in the tombs of my sin.  You have saved me and set me free.  Jesus, you have given me the Name of your Father.  I am driven t0 sing the praises of your Mercy.  Oh, that I could stay here and revel in this moment of Light.  But you refused the man with a New Name to remain in the shadow of your Glory.  You sent him to return home, to where he had become Lost, to give testimony of being Saved, of having a new identity in you.  Lord, as you send me back into the everydayness of life, may the Joy and Peace of your Holy Spirit give witness to my Hope in you.

Prayer Perceives Purpose

Prayer Perceives Purpose

        “In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went off to a lonely place and prayed there.  Simon and his companions set out in search of him, and when they found him they said, 'Everybody is looking for you'.  He answered, 'Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came'.”

In this first chapter of his Gospel, Mark portrays Jesus as a man who turned his back on a throng of people who were desperately seeking his healing touch.  How can this be?  Why would Jesus do such a thing?

The previous day, Mark introduces Jesus’ first public ministry with Jesus astounding the synagogue with the authority of his teaching, then delivering a man possessed by an unclean spirit.  Jesus ends that day by healing Simon’s mother-in-law, and then by ministering to the horde of people who showed up at her door, all in need of healing and deliverance.  It is this throng of needy who were seeking him out the next morning.

If you had the power to heal every person in a desperate crowd that was clamoring for your saving touch, would you turn your back on them and leave town?  Jesus did.  Why would he do such a thing?

Clearly the answer lies in those pre-dawn hours spent in prayer.  Jesus told us that he only speaks the words the Father gives him, and he only does what the Father tells him to do.  Surely, it was in prayer that Jesus encountered his Purpose, and it was prayer the framed his every action in the Will of the Father.

If Jesus based his actions on his feelings, he would have stayed and healed that crowd.  But his action, his purpose, was not determined by the tyranny of the moment.  His purpose was not to appease, but to proclaim the Truth.

In retrospect, healing was secondary.  It was a sign attesting to the truth of his Word, the Good News, that the Kingdom of God has dawned upon us.  Prayer clarified his Purpose.  Healing and deliverance were the result of living out the Kingdom of God he proclaimed.

Yes, out of love and mercy, he healed many desperate souls, but he left many still wanting.  His primary purpose was to usher in the Kingdom of God -to bring this Truth to all the people of Galilee- since all who embrace its unstoppable unfolding, will end up in the bosom of the Father.  For, no matter what the obstacle, the Kingdom of God will bring triumphant deliverance to those who believe.

Surely, as he turned his back on those precious needy ones, Jesus was conflicted, even distraught.  But the power of his prayer -of his connectedness to the Father- kept him faithful to his Purpose, all the way to Calvary.

          Holy Spirit, keep me faithful to my prayer time.  Steep me in your Word.  Open my ears to the Voice of my Father.  Make me faithful as my Lord Jesus was faithful.  I want to accomplish the purpose for which you have created me.  May my every action be framed in your Truth, no matter how I feel, even Lord, if I do not yet understand.

A Stump, A Child, An Advent

A Stump, A Child, An Advent

(Isaiah 11:1-10; Luke 10:21-24)

As I read these readings from the first week of Advent, I gave praise to God for our “Holy Mother Church”.  In reflecting on that unusual title, Holy Mother, I realized that it is my Catholic roots which have given me the very framework for which I find myself thanking God.  That is to say, “Mother Church” is a term familiar to the Catholic perspective, where the Church is seen as giving birth to its members, in contrast to the members giving birth to their church.

My Church, my Mother, my Source of Nourishment, my Guiding Hand, is a Womb transcending time and space, weaving me into the Body of Christ, with all the saints present and past.  It is in this miracle of Advent, that I find myself a living, integral piece of the Body of Christ, a Living Stone in the New Jerusalem .

These thoughts were evoked as I was struck with the Church’s wisdom in pairing together the readings from Isaiah 11 and Luke 10.  Isaiah’s prophecy of the stump of Jesse sprouting a shoot of New Life, is paired with Luke’s account of Jesus exulting, with the Joy of the Holy Spirit, that what was hidden from the learned, is now revealed to the Childlike.  Read together, these verses shed light on each other in a manner where the sum of their parts is greater than their whole.  Our Holy Mother Church, in the pairing of this Word, opens a window into the Mind of God.

Immediately preceding the stump of Jesse vision, Isaiah writes, “See, the Lord Yahweh Sabaoth hews down the boughs with a crash. The topmost heights are cut off, the proudest are brought down.  The forest thickets fall beneath the axe. Lebanon and its splendors collapse.”  

Everyone, sooner of later, will be “brought down”, laid low.  Not just pruned, but cut to the stump.  And this can yield two possibilities: One, a sense of dejection, failure, despondence; 0r, it can become an opportunity  to be humbled …to find new eyes …to understand that of ourselves we are but dead wood …that if we embrace our death, we will discover the Saving Power dwelling deep within our roots …that the Spirit of God is waiting, to burst forth with New Life …with New Life that could not take place until our Tree of Pride has been cut down …that the Hand that wielded the axe, is the same Spirit which is pushing up New Growth.

Luke sets his stage with the preceding account of how the seventy-two came back rejoicing because they saw Satan defeated whenever they called on the Name of Jesus.  Through the Name of Jesus, death now yields New Life.  But Jesus reminds his disciples, that the true cause of their joy, is their Childlike Faith …a faith which embeds them into the Lap of The Father, a Father that is ever faithful to his children.

Taken together, these two readings shed light on what Nicodemus found incomprehensible, that in being Born Again, we are indeed placed back into the Womb of the Holy Spirit, where we are recreated into a Child of God, freed from the Power of Sin, to become what we were destined to be from the beginning.

And so we begin Advent with the promise of New Birth.  Where the Holy Spirit overshadows Mary, whose childlike “Yes”, conceived and gave birth to our Savior, Jesus the Christ.  Out of the Root of Jesse he comes into the world, breathing his Holy Spirit upon us, giving birth to our Church that Pentecost Day, a Church that ever Mothers us, ever birthing us with Word and Eucharist, with Water and Spirit, into New Life.

Come, Emmanuel.  Come, Word Made Flesh.  Come, Light of Lights.  Pierce our Darkness.  Come, Savior of the world.  We have been cut low, oh Lord.  We surrender.  We hope only in you.  With eyes steeled on that Christmas Star, we wait …to be Born Again.  Come Lord Jesus, come!

From The Depths

From The Depths (Psalm 130)

“From the depths I call to you, Yahweh, Lord,

        listen to my cry for help!

Listen compassionately to my pleading!

If you never overlooked our sins,

        Yahweh, Lord, could anyone survive?

But you do forgive us: and for that we revere you.

I wait for Yahweh, my soul waits for him,

         I rely on his promise,

                my soul relies on the Lord

                        more than a watchman on the coming of dawn.

…For it is with Yahweh that mercy is to be found…”

         Lord, my soul as become familiar with the Depths.  Your Glory, so bright, is shadowed. Sin has darkened your Light.  Burdens of this life loom large.  I am weak.  Youth’s arrogance is a distant illusion.

        

         Only say the Word and my soul shall be healed.  …Yet you allow me to know the freedom of brokenness.  …Yet am I driven to hope.  …Yet must I still seek your Saving Hand.

        

         What mystery is this Life with you.   Invisible is This Hand that sustains me so.  Unquestionable is your Promise.  Unfathomable this Well Of Faith, this Source of Hope.

          

        You empty what you desire to fill.  You break what you desire to heal.  You humble what you desire to raise.  So it is Lord, that I know now the Watchman’s need.  The Night forbid his eyes to see.  Try as he might it, in vain could he see without your Light.

         I know now, that Watchman’s need was comforted.  For your Mercy goes first, to those in the darkest of night.  Only in clinging to your Faithfulness, can I see the Dawn that is yet to be.