The Rhythm of Creation

I revel in the rhythm of the seasons each year, and we are in one right now here in South Dakota. Summer is waning: the evening air is crisp, and the sunlight is a deeper gold. I’ve been pondering the seasons of life during my morning walks as I observe summer slowly tiptoeing into autumn. I’m keenly aware of how the rhythm of my life is changing as well; there is a certain adagio, a slowing in my spirit. The kind of slowing that is welcomed, setting a new time scale, as it were, to the song my life. My appreciation to the LORD for this is described in today’s Mass reading from Psalm 96!

O sing to the Lord a new song;
    sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, bless his name;
    tell of his salvation from day to day.
Declare his glory among the nations,
    his marvelous works among all the peoples.
 For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;
    he is to be revered above all gods.
For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
    but the Lord made the heavens.
Honor and majesty are before him;
    strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.

Psalm 96

The theme of the daily liturgy over this last week or so culminates in the poetry of this psalm. You may remember what we read from the book of the prophet, Ezekiel. The LORD promised, “O, my people! A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you…” This scripture reminded me of the familiar scripture from the Book of Revelation, “Behold. I make all things new!” All this has me wondering how the song I sing sounds to the LORD in this season of my life. My song to the LORD has many verses inspired by the passages of time and circumstances. I bet yours does, too. Recently, I wondered if the song I’m currently singing to the LORD causes him to want to hum along. And then I asked myself if the sound of my song makes others want to hum along.

Some words from Peter Kreeft came to mind as I’ve been contemplating the Scriptures this last week, “Speech not only reveals the soul; it also conditions the soul. The more you say something, the more you believe it. The more you praise something, the more you love it. The more you rail against something, the more you hate it.” Read that again. Do those few sentences cause you to pause as it has me? The saying goes, what’s down in the well comes up in the bucket. The new song I’m singing is composed of a season of spiritual healing and the release of long-held resentments and pride. I feel a lighter touch in the sound welling up within me. And I do believe the LORD and others appreciate this new song as much as I do!

What season of life do you find yourself in? What does the music of your life sound like to the LORD and to others?

The LORD wants us to sing a new song, not for the sake of change, but for the sake of increasing our awareness that his mercies are new every morning! Do you feel that your song is getting tired and sounding a bit out of tune? I feel you. Sometimes it seems too hard to do the soul work of rewriting our song, so we get accustomed to singing out of tune, so to speak. The harmony comes when we set the upbeats and downbeats of the seasons of life with the rhythm of the LORD’s song. The notes on his scale are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. And in his beautiful way, he takes the crescendos and decrescendos of life to compose a new melody for us to sing. Can you hear it? Don’t you want it?

The timbre of my song comes through a little differently than it did in my 30s, 40s, and 50s. There’s a deeper texture and form because of what each season of life has given to me as it passed. What season are you in? What needs tuning in your spirit so that you can sing a new song to the LORD?

I’ve been singing this to myself lately,

My life flows on in endless song,
above earth’s lamentation.
I catch the sweet, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.

No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since the Lord is lord of heav’n and earth,
how can I keep from singing?

Through all the tumult and the strife,
I hear that music ringing.
It finds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
a fountain ever springing!
All things are mine since I am his!
How can I keep from singing?

LORD and Maestro of my life, poco a poco, little by little, I’m learning your new song for me, and, you know, I like the sound of it! Thank you for your Symphony of Love that rings ever and true!

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be,

Song without end!

Amen

New Every Morning!

Today’s morning prayer and the responsorial psalm in today’s Mass readings draw our minds into considering the constancy of Creation. The morning prayer from Psalm 65 proclaims the faithfulness of God:

You care for the earth and water it,
    you greatly enrich it;
the river of God is full of water;
    you provide the people with grain,
    for so you have prepared it.
 You water its furrows abundantly,
    settling its ridges,
softening it with showers,
    and blessing its growth.
 You crown the year with your bounty;
    your wagon tracks overflow with richness.
 The pastures of the wilderness overflow,
    the hills gird themselves with joy,
 the meadows clothe themselves with flocks,
    the valleys deck themselves with grain,
    they shout and sing together for joy.

–Psalm 65: 10-14

Beautiful; isn’t it? The comeliness of creation is my muse, and stepping into it never fails to draw my attention to the Beauty, Goodness, and Truth of God’s abundant love for me. It just so happens that as I write this I am staying at a big old farm in the rolling breaks of the Missouri River; quintessential South Dakota! I’m surrounded by grazing sheep and cattle, and undulating fields ripe with wheat, corn, clover, and timothy. The harvest will yield more of a bounty this year because of the rain our region has received. It is this cadence of God’s creation that inspires in me a certain hope and gratitude. The words of the prophet Jeremiah have been on my lips as I awakened each day,

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore; I will hope in him.”

Creation to me is at once a playground, classroom, and sanctuary where God waits for me to join him. I’ve joined with Him this particular week as I romped barefoot around this acreage. I contemplated his Word to me as I chewed on a wheat stem; certainly, a farmer’s thing to do. We laughed as we observed twin fawns leap from the fencerow into the farmyard on their newborn legs in the cool of each evening. The LORD reminded me of the prophet Isaiah’s words:

[On that day…] the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
    and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
    and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
    and streams in the desert;
the burning sand shall become a pool,
    and the thirsty ground springs of water;
the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,
    the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

Isaiah 35: 5-7

Are you waiting for joy to happen while you try to make sense of a circumstance? Take a leap of faith to know you will soon leap like a deer in whatever might weigh you down at the moment. Thank you, LORD, for reminding me that when life seems all effort and no rest, you invite me onto your playground so that I may leap for joy in spite of it all.

Creation has been a classroom for me this week as I observed my husband work to clear the fencerows of volunteer juniper trees. How did those seeds get there? To put it carefully, birds carried them in their little bellies and deposited them upon the ground while they rested on the fences! He told me they were a nuisance to farmers when it came time to fix a fence since the juniper actually envelopes the fence as it grows. I also observed as I walked through the cornrows each morning, how quickly the corn grew from one day to the next because of the ideal growing conditions this year. The LORD reminded me of the parable of the weeds and the wheat in which he reminded his disciples that, the bad seed grows alongside the good seed in spite of our diligent attention to destroy them. Do you sometimes wonder how God is going to redeem a situation that seems like it’s going sideways? The psalm for today’s responsorial psalm came to my mind as I interceeded for my dear nephew, Andrew, who needs to allow the LORD to do a lot of week picking.

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’  He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.  Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.

The Gospel According to St. Matthew 13:24-30

********

Although [you] go forth weeping,
carrying the seed to be sown,
[You] shall come back rejoicing,
carrying the sheaves. 

Psalm 126

Farming is hard work! Interceding for others is hard work! It can be discouraging some years and encouraging other years. The LORD taught me that even during times when the hard work of intercession causes me to weep, I must persevere in what appears to me, are less than ideal growing conditions! Ever been there, friend? Take heart, the LORD speaks into our lives, Teach me, LORD, that just as the order of your creation always wins the day, you conquer over the weeds of injustice and rampant evil. You will lift your scythe, and justice will prevail! I’ll persevere in tending to Andrew through interceding for him, and I’ll trust you for the harvest.

I walked to the top of a wooded knoll each morning, and in that little sanctuary of shade, I worshipped the LORD. As far as I could see to the north, west, east, and south, I saw the fields ripening for harvest; corn, wheat, timothy, and clover. The smell of freshly cut timothy wafted in the breeze, I asked the LORD to make of my life a sacrifice that smells as sweet as the timothy. I marveled at the verdant growth around me and felt as though creation indeed was singing with me the LORD’s praises! I bow my head and worshipped the LORD joining the psalmist in declaring,

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
    who alone does wondrous things.
Blessed be his glorious name forever;
    may his glory fill the whole earth.
Amen and Amen.

Psalm 72: 18,19

The Kissing Gate

Today’s gospel includes one of the seven “I Am” declarations Jesus made to describe himself as the fulfillment of the promised Messiah, the Son of God. God revealed himself as “I Am” to Moses, and no first-century Jew would have missed the gravity of what Jesus was saying to them. God, in the flesh, came down to the ground of the commonplace to show us the way back to our Garden-identity as his beloved creation.

The particular images of Jesus as The Gate and The Good Shepherd are what I kindle to the most. My fondest memories of my past are of climbing Fig trees, walking through meadows, wading in streams, and climbing mountains, swimming through oceans. Those experiences in nature were, and continue to be, the portals to seeing God’s beauty and goodness. They draw me into the lofty expanse of God as my Creator and me as his created beloved. I can’t help but desire to love him and enjoy him forever when I meditate on Creation.

A long time ago, the LORD invited me to behold the beauty and goodness of the pastoral landscape of England. As I would trek through the hillside and meadows, I would often encounter kissing gates in the low stone walls that marked the boundaries of the terrain. The design of the kissing gate allows humans to pass in and out of pastures, but due to its unique design, they effectively prevent sheep from using the gate to enter another shepherd’s pasture. You’ll have to goggle the image to understand the swing action in the design of the gate. I’m just setting up the scene so that we can further appreciate what Jesus is declaring to us, his sheep.

It was on those treks that the beauty and goodness of the Creator led me to the consoling truth of Jesus Christ as my Shepherd as I recalled the many references to The Lord, as my Good Shepherd found in Sacred Scripture. I invite you to pray with me through the gospel according to St. John 10:1-10

[Jesus said to the disciples] Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit…

Beloved, I AM The Gate. You are safe with me here inside my sanctuary. I lead you by still water; I restore your soul. Why are you distracted by the thieves that would steal your peace? They are not welcome here; they do not enter here. Will you fix your gaze on me?

The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out...

Beloved, I AM your Shepherd. I call you; I’ve engraved your name on my hand; I know every hair on your head. I know every longing of your heart. I am beside you, leading you out from what you thought you were. You are malnourished from feeding in the wilderness. I saw you rootle around for everything you thought would tell you who you are. I AM your Good Shepherd, come to me, let me heal you and renew you, and transform you in this meadow replete with my goodness and mercy. I desire to lead you? Will you follow me and graze in this meadow?

When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers ...

Beloved, I AM not a stranger to you; why are you uncertain about what I say about you? Why do you still listen to the voices from the past who lied to you about who you are? Why do you listen to the voices of your present that want to steal your name and cause you to be afraid? Draw close to me and learn to know my voice; I will lead you where you should go.

Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly...

Beloved, I AM the Gate! I AM the Shepherd! It is me that you seek. It is me that your heart desires. Will you believe what I say about you?

How is it with you today, friend? Where do you fix your gaze? Is it causing you to fear and doubt?

Are you rooting around in a wasteland of regret and shame? Does the emptiness you feel cause you to hunger for the grace, mercy, and love that only Christ can feed you?

Do you feel far from home? In exiled because of your pride, fear, or anger? Is the exile leading you toward the death of your spirit?

Pray with me, friend.

You are my Shepherd LORD, I shall not want.
You make me lie down in green pastures;
You lead me beside still waters;
 You restore my soul.
You lead me on right paths
    for your name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
    I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff—
    they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
    my whole life long.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be, world without end.

Amen

Recreation

“What lies behind us and what lies before us, are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

When Jesus came into Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him,
since they had seen all he had done in Jerusalem at the feast;
for they themselves had gone to the feast.

Then he returned to Cana in Galilee,
where he had made the water wine.
Now there was a royal official whose son was ill in Capernaum.
When he heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea,
he went to him and asked him to come down
and heal his son, who was near death.
Jesus said to him,
“Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will not believe.”
The royal official said to him,
“Sir, come down before my child dies.”
Jesus said to him, “You may go; your son will live.”
The man believed what Jesus said to him and left.
While the man was on his way back,
his slaves met him and told him that his boy would live.
He asked them when he began to recover.
They told him,
“The fever left him yesterday, about one in the afternoon.”
The father realized that just at that time Jesus had said to him,
“Your son will live,”
and he and his whole household came to believe…

The Gospel according to St. John 4:43-54

Something my mom used to say came to my mind as I meditated on the gospel reading for today. “Hope springs eternal.” She would tag on the line from the psalms as well, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” My mom knew what she was talking about, for she suffered all her life from a chronic disease that eventually took her life, yet her hope for healing never waned. The people that surrounded our LORD’s life as he lived among us were no different; there was always a sense of anticipation as Jesus came near to their reality. The crowds had heard or witnessed that this Jesus was more than meets the eye, and so they hoped!

It took great humility for that royal official to expose his need to this Jew; he could have ridiculed Jesus and the citizens of Israel for their belief in one God rather than the many Roman gods of his country. He could have ignored what the people were saying about Jesus. We don’t know if he had witnessed any of Jesus’ miracles, but he could have dismissed them as trickery and entertainment. He doesn’t do any of that; he boldly went to Jesus and requested out of the brokenness that only a parent can have for a child. Even when Jesus seems to rebuke the crowd, him included, for demanding signs and wonders, the royal official stays on point. Can you sense his urgency when he asks Jesus to come before his child dies? The royal official represents us, doesn’t he? We’ve all been desperate for hope from time to time. We’ve longed to be free from the sorrow we endure for others or ourselves. In God’s kingdom reality, nothing separates us from being in that crowd that day, for his story is our story. Jesus’ words and actions then are his words and actions now, and ever shall be! Hope does spring eternal!

The Church reminds us of this beautiful truth through the other Scripture readings for today’s Mass. Hear the Word of the LORD to Isaiah 65:17-21

Thus says the LORD:
Lo, I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
The things of the past shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
Instead, there shall always be rejoicing and happiness
in what I create;
For I create you to be a joy
and a delight;
I will rejoice in you
and exult in my people.
No longer shall the sound of weeping be heard there,
or the sound of crying;
No longer shall there be in it
an infant who lives but a few days,
or an old man who does not round out his full lifetime;
He dies a mere youth who reaches but a hundred years,
and he who fails of a hundred shall be thought accursed.
They shall live in the houses they build,
and eat the fruit of the vineyards they plant.

Years ago, the truth of Isaiah’s words; the LORD constantly recreating and restoring what seems dead to life came to me during the early Spring as I was cleaning up winter from our garden. I removed some decaying leaves from the soil and discovered “Hope Springs Eternal.” There beneath the refuse of the past season’s death were the tender green shoots of our Crimean Snowdrops lifting their delicate white caps upward toward the early Spring sun. They seemed to say, “Hello again, beautiful world, I’ve returned to glorify the Creator!”

LORD, there are seasons in our lives when we feel short on hope. Help us see beyond the present moment that threatens to steal our joy by eroding our hope in you, the God of Creation and Recreation. We look at the whole scheme of things happening to us or around us, and we wonder if you are still the LORD of the impossible. We bring our families to you and humbly ask you to recreate us into the fullness of life with you. We offer ourselves and our besetting sins that decay and destroy hope in you. We bring our world to you and urgently ask that you heal the unrest in war-torn countries before there is any more death.

We ask this in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be, world without end.

Making Room for Christmas

I’m making room for Christmas in all sorts of ways. I’m finding more hours in my days to clean and scrub, deck the halls and trim the tree. My rooms will be clean and ready to welcome holiday guests.

I’ve cleared some room on my counters to hold all the sweet treats I plan to make in the room I make for Christmas. With my grocery list in hand, I’ll scan the market aisles and find all my ingredients and even some more along the way. I’ll slice, and I’ll dice. I’ll bake, and I’ll shake as I make room for Christmas.

With each treat and hors d’oeuvre that passes my lips, I’ll find room in my stomach and some on my hips. Then when I find there’s no more room in my clothes, I’ll find more room in my days to work out at the gym. I’ll jog ’til I faint, lift weights ’til I ache. I’ll dance ’til I’m trim or maybe go for a swim. If that all fails, I can always shop ’til I drop for clothes that will fit; I’m sure the credit card company will happily help me find more room for holiday excess. An increased line of credit is their promise–somehow, I think I might regret it come January when I’m no longer making room for Christmas.

Maybe I’ll remember to make room in my schedule to hold a quiet vigil on the night before Christmas. I’ll remember the Savior and ponder His birth. Why was there no room in the inn, I’ll wonder to myself? Who doesn’t have room for Jesus?! But I don’t have any room to consider that right now. I have gifts to purchase, parties to attend, and neighbors to impress. There are roomy stockings to stuff and cards to send. But what’s this feeling settling into my chest? I can’t seem to breathe.

What’s that I hear? Is it you, Savior in a cradle? Or is it your Blessed Mother that proved able to carry Christmas to the world from a stable? Ah, it’s Blessed Mary, Mother of God, adoring You, treasuring all that You gave on that first Christmas and pondering it in her heart. As you filled the empty room of this world with Your presence, she knew where to start, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!”

Could it be that all my business is just crowding the room in my soul that only You can decorate? Could it be that all my indulging leaves no room for you to feed my deep hunger? All this clutter just makes me mutter, “Is this all there is?” And then I remember the words of the prophet,

…the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.

Isaiah 7:14

For a child has been born for us,
a son is given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

Savior of the World, you emptied yourself and came into a world crowded by agitation and discord, a world that chased after other shiny things to satisfy the ache in their soul. A world of useless endeavors for peace and contentment, joy and hope. Come into me.

Wonderful Counselor, guide me as I empty my life of futile endeavors.

Mighty God, reveal all the shiny things I strive after that are nothing more than just idols that twinkle and glimmer.

Eternal Father, fill the room of my heart with the everlasting gifts of Your Spirit.

Prince of Peace, teach me to ponder the gift of You to the world and treasure my salvation.

Immanuel, God with us, I magnify You and my spirit rejoices in you my Savior.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be, world without end.

Amen.

God or God and…..

Awhile back I was actively involved with mentoring refugees who had been resettled here in Sioux Falls by the Office of Refugee Resettlement. It was a privilege to walk alongside an individual or a family as they negotiated the very hard transition from a war-torn nation where genocide was destroying tribes because of long-held resentments that reached back hundreds of years. In my training for the ministry I learned that even though a refugee is freed from the impending threat to their life with their refugee status, they were now in a new kind of refugee status: a stranger who had lost everything–land, culture, family–they held dear to them to live in a new land with a culture and language that is vastly different from what they had escaped. I could spend much more time addressing what I observed over those years, but I would like to share what came back to mind as I read today’s Office of Readings.

In reality we are all refugees to some degree because we are not at home in this world’s culture, or at least we should not feel at home. The language and the mind-set of the culture should feel foreign to us. The values of the culture should feel odd when we try to fully embrace them. We should feel like sojourners rather than denizens. The LORD Jesus Christ emphasized this in so many ways as he taught His disciples and the wanna-be followers who tagged along during his earthly ministry. Today’s passage from Matthew 8 is just one exchange he had that reveals to us how we should then live:

“Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests,
but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”
Another of his disciples said to him,
“Lord, let me go first and bury my father.”
But Jesus answered him, “Follow me,
and let the dead bury their dead.”

Jesus wasn’t conveying to his followers that a home or a dead relative wasn’t important, he knew the heart of the men who were asking the questions and could see the reasons for not following him were excuses to stay in their comfort zone. As I read the passaged I recalled a conversation I had with one of the Lost Boys of Sudan who I was helping tutor in order to get his GED. During that conversation, I asked him how had he and the other Lost Boys had survived as orphans during the years of wandering further and further away from their destroyed villages. He replied with words that are forever etched in my memory. “We had God.“ The gaze of his eyes were set on the horizon and I imagined all the moments of despair and hopelessness he must have felt as he literally ran for his life and how God revealed himself to him. After a few moments of silence I asked Deng if he still held to that truth now as a refugee in America, his answer stunned me. “In Sudan we knew God was all we had and all we needed. Here in America I notice that people have ‘God and…,’ I am afraid I will forget God when I get what you American’s have.” We talked about that for quite a bit because I was the one who needed to learn to live as a refugee in this world and Deng was my sage. I am a better person because of Deng’s influence on my life.

Like the men in today’s gospel I was prone to be more concerned about where I lay my head rather than Who I can rest in. I was prone to allow earthly obligations and societal norms to cloud my eyes and detract me from the values of God’s Kingdom. My “God and….” included loop-holes and self-justification. My “God and….” had the disturbingly familiar image of my SELF. My “God and….” was a trinity of me, myself, and I. I would spend hours fretting over what people thought of me or all the ifs and buts that I used to qualify my faith in God.

I am sure that it is not an accident that The Church offers up an example from Abraham’s life in today’s reading. We do well to remember what the God of the Old Testament required of the great heroes of our Faith. Abraham lived much of his life as a refugee, the LORD intended it so. “Go forth from your land, your relatives, and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you…I will bless you…All the families of the earth will find blessing in you.” We will never know how Salvation History would have looked if all God’s people put their faith in what God said and obeyed accordingly. Because of Abraham’s obedience to the LORD we can see how the Story of Salvation did unfold to reveal what LORD intended through His people: Abraham and his descendants. Like us, the people of God got into a lot of trouble when they chose to worship “God and….” and over and over the LORD drew them back by reminding them of their ultimate purpose. Prophets would regularly hand down a message from God to His people that usually began with, “On that day…..” A vision of the “promised land” would then be told where justice and mercy ruled the day. And then God’s people would forget Him because the distractions of what the culture offered up was seemingly more attractive.

It’s the human condition, we forget to remember who we are, where our true home is and what we are to be about. The LORD, ever-patient, allows history to unfold but He is always calling us back to where we belong. The book of Hebrews in the New Testament is the handbook for refugees! The exhortation to remain faithful to what we have seen and heard about our identity as citizens of the Kingdom of God is strong. Abraham is recalled as the example for us as we sojourn in the kingdom of this world: “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; he went out, not knowing where he was to go. By faith he sojourned in the promised land as in a foreign country, dwelling in tents…for he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and maker is God….” Abraham had struggled with trying to serve “God and….” It didn’t go well for him, but in the end he lived his life worshipping God, life improved! The key to the map of faith was this: “…he went out, not knowing where he was to go. By faith he sojourned in the promised land as in a foreign country,…”

How about you, friend? Do you see this world as a foreign country? Does your faith in God include an “and”? What does your “God and….” look like? Perhaps you worship God and…political party or position or reputation or family obligations, or stuff. “God and….” has many faces!

Heavenly Father, remind us again that your Kingdom is not of this world. In you alone we are truly at home, draw us back to You.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Let It Be

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

–The Beatles

My first encounter with the beauty of our Blessed Mother came through the 1968 release of the popular song, Let it Be, by the Beatles. What the Beatles communicated in that song, though not exactly scriptural, began to draw me to Mary long before I converted to Catholicism decades later. The notion that the mother of Jesus could speak words of wisdom to me intrigued me.

Later in life when I was a tenderfoot Catholic I began contemplating all the words of Our Blessed Mother and I found that praying, “Let it be” could usher me into the grace the LORD has for all who will magnify Him. How so? By observing this grace-filled woman, this perfect mother, we learn how to detach ourselves from our own notions about how life should go. Let’s use the Beatles song to expand on how Mary’s fiat leads us into wisdom.

“When I find myself in times of trouble…” Our Blessed Mother knew times of trouble, she knew what confusion felt like, she knew what rejection felt like, she knew what poverty felt like. Her response to those rugged realities– “And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart” reveals her humility. As we learn to respond rather than to react when the unexpected throws us off-kilter we leave room in our soul to reflect on the circumstances from the LORD’s point of view as Mary surely did. In that space of reflection we learn to listen to the Holy Spirit’s wise counsel. Though life may remain rugged, we may more readily accept the pratfalls of life as sacred ground for our spirit to rest in the LORD’s great love for us.

“And in the hour of darkness…” Allow me to use my own experience with “the hour of darkness” to show how our Blessed Mother comes to us speaking words of wisdom. In the years before I officially converted to The Catholic Church, I devoured books written by contemplative Catholics. My spirit kindled to reading about the sacramental life of The Church, especially when the life of Our Blessed Mother was the topic. My spirit opened to belief in her intercession for me. One afternoon in the midst of a collection of grief-filled realities, I was feeling the seer of pain from an unspeakable tragedy our family was enduring. The hours, months, years were filled with dark hours! I cannot say I put Mary to the test but, somewhere deep down I hoped that she would be my Mother as I was being a mother in the midst of loss and grief. A moment came when I dropped to the floor from physical exhaustion of the trauma; I began to pray. Who did I pray to? The LORD of course, but who was there holding me, weeping with me, crying out with me the extreme of my emotions? It was Our Blessed Mother! I cannot articulate the infused comfort and hope my spirit received that day, but I experienced the “lifting up of the lowly” that Mary declared in her Magnificat.

“And when the night is cloudy…” When we are on our last tether and we can’t see our way through a dilemma, if we listen, we hear the echo of Our Blessed Mother say to Jesus, “[She] has no wine.” When our resources don’t measure up to the expectation of others, if we listen we can hear her say, “Whatever He says, do it.” And what do we do when Christ abundantly supplies? We do as Mary, we reflect on God’s goodness and treasure it in our heart.

“I wake up to the sound of music…” As we pray the rosary of our Blessed Mother we join Mary in contemplating the joys of the life of our Saviour. He laughs, he celebrates; when He walks in He literally lights things up! And we can imagine Mary laughing right along; why? For she knew that “He who is mighty has done great things!” We receive the same peace and joy when our mighty Saviour does great things in us!

Give it a Rest

Definition: REPOSE

a place for resting or lodging; peace of mind or spirit;

a rhythmic silence in music; free of anxieties.

I went for a walk awhile back on a blustery day here in South Dakota. As I was walking, a hawk caught my eye as I looked up at the azure blue sky. I revel in observing birds in flight, it’s fascinating to consider them effortlessly winging to and fro, doing whatever the LORD created them to do.

That particular day I observed that the hawk that can easily glide on zephyrs struggled to find the current where it could glide through the air with ease. Flap, flap, flap, flap, rest, flap, flap, flap; fluttering it’s wings against the drama of the gusty conditions. It wore me out just watching the struggle. However, I observed that the hawk didn’t give up trying to fly through the gale force wind working against it, because the LORD didn’t design it only for gentle breezes. He created it to fly, no matter the momentum of wind surrounding it.

That moment has come to my mind often as I consider the currents of my life–those times when life is a gentle breeze in which I feel as though I could soar forever, as well as those that I feel I can’t flap my wings any longer because of the momentum against me!

Do you have experiences like that? Months of soaring can pass when I sense the LORD energizing my life with zeal and fulfillment in what he has created me to be. When the consolation of the spirit is present, or at least, more keenly felt. Answered prayers, sacred exchanges with the LORD, the sense that “all is well and all manner of things are well.”*

Other times I feel that everything is effort, there is seldom a zephyr that I can glide upon. Life is topsy-turvy and there seems to be a hitch in my get-along. What I am learning is this does not seem to bother our Creator because he created me for the topsy-turvy currents of life as well. He ordains the breeze AND the gale to give me a rhythm of life that waits for him no matter what is happening around me. All he asks is that I keep being what I am created to be and to choose to abide in the him. This makes me think of the words of Isaiah:

Why do you say, O [Daughter of Mine], and speak,
“My way is hid from the Lord,
    and my right is disregarded by my God”?
 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary,
    his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
    and to her who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
    and young people shall fall exhausted;
but she who waits for the Lord shall renew her strength,
    she shall mount up with wings like eagles,
she shall run and not be weary,
     she shall walk and not faint. –Isaiah 40

As the eagle is created to cooperate with the Creator by simply mounting up her wings in order to do what she is created to do, so I find my greatest rest in cooperating with the LORD by choosing to do what I am created to do–to abide in the LORD, to worship God in all things through obedience and thanksgiving, and a fair amount of sacrifice when the winds batter my spirit. I imagine that as in the eagle mounting up with wings, I too must mount up with my wings of faith before the LORD. And then…..then the effort is enjoined by his everlasting faithfulness to me.

Lord, I enjoy the consolation of your Holy Spirit and the abundance of your love for me. I fancy the idea of soaring effortlessly through life, but my wings would weaken if living was a breeze (pun intended). Help me to cherish the breezes and give thanks for them.

I’m grateful to you for the gale, even though I’m reluctant at times to ride against a current that causes me to become weary for I know you ordain the course of my life to strengthen me in what you’ve created me to be.

And when I feel I am too wearied by all the flapping my soul’s wings have to do to stay in rhythm with your will for me, remind me to wait upon you and allow you to renew my spirit within me.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

*St. Julian of Norwich

P.S. I enjoyed this post as I considered the bird’s innate abilities. https://jonathanpomroy.wordpress.com/2020/07/22/july-22nd-little-owls-and-the-best-swift-day-of-2020/

Hope Springs Eternal

Mom had an expression I heard often growing up, “Hope springs eternal.” In my teen years, she would remind my melancholishness that not all is lost in circumstances that seemed hopeless. She would remind me of that during my long bouts of depression that accompanied the passage from a child to an adult.

Many a night when she would come into my room to pray with me, she’d sense my blues that increased when the sun went down. They were always accompanied by fear because I was still learning that the LORD is a faithful Father and ever-present to my needs. Needs seem so monumental when you are a melancholy teenager, but now I look back and chuckle. I’ve lived a lot of years since then and I’ve been through the school of hard knocks–I’ve learned what real struggle and doubt feel like.

Later in life, she would remind me to hope when life threatened to crowd the joy out of my heart or when life as a mother challenged my abilities. She would remind me of that when I began to face some of the real-life challenges that everyone faces from time to time. She would often tag on the line from the psalms, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” Mom was a strong-willed optimist and that eventually rubbed off on me. I’m grateful for her presence in my life and especially that she modeled before me the importance of choosing hope in the LORD.

The time came though when those were my words to her as she slowly lost her battle to live. She lived before me what I think Ralph Waldo Emerson was hoping to communicate when he penned, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” It was the hope in the LORD that filled mom with endurance and courage in the face of chronic disease. Her hope was her strength and it was eternal in the fullest sense of the word.

Mom’s words whispered to me today as I cleaned up winter from our garden today; as I brushed some decaying leaves away from the soil I saw the evidence of my Creator’s everlasting care. There beneath the refuse of the past season’s death, there were the tender green shoots of our Crimean Snowdrops lifting their delicate white caps upward toward the early Spring sun–“Hello again beautiful world, I’m here again to glorify the Creator!” I saw mom at that moment, her head was raised in hope fulfilled: eternal worship of our LORD!

LORD, there are times now when I feel short on hope. Help me to see beyond the present moment that threatens to steal my joy. I look at the whole scheme of things, to the very edge of my soul, and my heart wants to respond with a “YES” to mom’s words woven into the fabric of my life. It is there in that crossover moment that I see I have a choice to make: either I will dig down deep into the wellspring of life as my eyes gaze heavenward into Hope Eternal, or I will stand ankle deep in the despair, or resentment or pride or just plain sloth that has stopped me in the tracks of doubt.

LORD, I choose hope!