Why All This Suffering…,?

It isn’t the way we would plan it: the suffering of war, of political disagreement, of hurt people in the Church, the suffering of children, sickness. No, surely the human race can be redeemed another way. Surely we can be saved without all this suffering, can’t we?

We are in the midst of Lent, the season that faces us with the outlandish fact that the Word of God, in the New Covenant of our flesh, reveals to us that, no, the best way is the way of the cross. Now why would God plan it this way? We are not going to presume that we know the Mind of God, but we are going to get hints.

Check it out. The all-powerful Word of God getting slapped in the face. He does nothing, except stand there in the greatest dignity, when with one glance he could destroy them all. What is he trying to tell us? If Christ Jesus is “the image of the invisible God” then we are seeing a love so powerful that it refuses to be a victim and to victimize anyone else by passing the violence on. It ends with him. He absorbs it. The love swallows the evil of his enemies. That love will engulf any hell they can dish out. He forgives, and the love includes even his executioners.

Now if this were all, it would be remarkable enough, and a challenge we see replicated in our martyrs. But it doesn’t stop there. This love turns the manure of this evil into radiant new life.

So what does the cross reveal? It tells us, who are his very own by baptism, that so it shall be for any suffering that attempts to make a victim out of us. Not a punishment, not merely an atonement, the cross reveals to us the very heart of God as loving mercy. More, our suffering is to be the very stuff of glory.

If we become the victim and then victimize others by blame and judgment, then evil spreads like some plague. The challenge to us is to absorb and refuse to pass it on, to short circuit it. Not some stoic repression, mind you, but intentional and deliberate forgiveness and inclusion, no child’s play. I don’t know about you, but I’ve only begun to think about what this might mean…

Really?

Is that what you’re up to?

Do I have the love to do this?

No, if I’m honest.

But you do – and you’ve joined me to Yourself.

So show me how it works when I’m in pain…

When I’ve hurt others, and they’ve hurt me.

When I listen to the news and get so mad I could spit.

Really?

If enough of us get good at this we might just change the world.

Putting it all together….

 

Finally, in reflecting on our expanded Mission Statement, we come to the part we know best:

…we are committed to truth and compelled to justice.

 

To be committed to something means to be dedicated to it, focused on it, drawn to it like a magnet. But what “truth” are we talking about? Well, there is mathematical truth, economic truth, scientific truth, racial and political truth. No doubt, we have been, and still are committed to these truths in our educating and advocacy activities. Yet even more as Dominicans we are committed to the Person who said, “I am the... truth…” We seek to take on his mind, form our values with his heart. The truth we are committed to is a person, not merely a proposition.

 It is this relationship that compels us to seek a just world. Like the barking dog, so symbolic to the Dominican heart, we cannot be silenced. We cry out to God for justice, for the reign of God to come, for peace. We doggedly search it out in our study and speak of it to anyone who will listen. We will not be silenced.

So now we can indeed put it all together. Our Racine Dominican mission is to proclaim a truth that compels us to do justice through a communal and contemplative presence rooted in God’s transformational Word. This is who we are and what we are about in our every ministry.

…He must increase…I must decrease.

Some time ago Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J (Pope Francis has removed the monitum on him) wrote of human suffering. He was a seminarian conscientious objector in the First World War, so was assigned as a stretcher bearer in the trenches. At night he would write by lantern-light.

 

As we prepare to enter into our Lenten season, what he says might surprise us. He reminds us that in our youth we are very busy. We teach, minister, care for our families; we are “on the move.” But in our later years, “We just can’t do what we used to do.” Guilt builds up. How can I be of service now? What good am I when I just don’t have the energy I used to have? We are diminishing, and this causes us sadness.

 

Then he turns this on its head. Pointing to the strange flow of Jesus’ life, he points out that Jesus had only three short years of active ministry. Then comes the diminishment of the passion. This is certainly not the way we would do things. But it is in that diminishment that Jesus is most effective. He really was not successful in his active life. He was rejected by religious authorities and manipulated by crowds to work more wonders. He was misunderstood in what he said.

 

Chardin’s point is that once Jesus comes to grip with what is being asked of him in the struggle of the garden, he enters into the downward spiral of diminishment. His intent is to go there if that is what his Father wants, and that is exactly what happens. He is executed. His exaltation is to be raised up on the gibbet of the cross. As he is stripped not only of his clothing but his own will, he accomplishes the high point of his active ministry. It is by this diminishment of his passion that he redeems. All that goes before is a preview of coming attractions.

 

What if it’s the same for us? What if our lack of energy, our illness, our weakness of any kind is to be the high point of our humble lives? How would we begin each day, when full of aches and pains, we fully intend “to bring to completion what God has begun in us.” What if our loving intentional acceptance of our diminishment will bring more healing to our world than any project we’ve ever been involved in? What if this Lent we were convinced of this and acted on it? Could it be my prayer? Could it be my fasting from guilt and sadness? Could it be the ultimate almsgiving?

 

Challenge.

Tough and Teasing.

Amazing, Involving, and Demanding.

Melt my Resistance.

OK?

 

Ready to be transformed…?

 

Our newly expanded Mission Statement first identifies a gate, a doorway: “Through a communal and contemplative presence…” The word through surrounds you, like a blanket in a chill wind. It’s a way to be.

 Next we identify our Dominican-ness: “Rooted in God’s transformative Word.” A subtle play on the meaning of the French word, Racine, yes? And take note, Word is capitalized. That means more than the scriptural word, although that is a primary place we find the Word-in-person. The Word here is the One who has come to be with us. The Word is Christ Jesus.

How do we stay “rooted” in a person? Being rooted means being where your life-source is. It means you lose your life if you get “uprooted.” It means we have identified our life-source, the reason for our existence. We have also used an important adjective in front of it. This Word does not stand still. It moves. It moves in us and transforms us day to day. That means we are itinerant in the deepest meaning of the word. We are ready to move, ready to be transformed, ready to be today what we weren’t yesterday. We are ready, not only to change locations, but to become different who we are. This Word has a plan, and we are part of it.

 We have entered a New Year. The cultural scene can look pretty grim. But this Word has a plan. It’s a plan to give us a future. Are you ready? Check where your feet are planted. Fasten your seat-belts. Are you ready to be transformed?

 

‘Tis the Season of Light…

The winter solstice has come. The light has shifted. Now the days grow longer. Light has won out, and the darkness slinks away, getting ready to return another time. Lights are everywhere. Christmas lights are still up, filling the night cold with multicolored beauty.

 

We are celebrating the greatest Light of all. The words of Genesis ring in our ears: “Let there be…Light!” Did you ever wonder how there could be light when, according to the ancient account, there was as yet no sun? What is the Light? Could it be the very Wisdom of God made manifest, and from this Wisdom, this very substance of God self-expressing in a Word, all creation spills out? Is it all made from Light?

Now lest you think this is mere new age jibberish, scientists seem to be moving in this same direction. They keep looking for the most primary particle. So far the most basic they have found they have named the quark. And what is this very basic element in the universe? They have identified it as a form of light energy. Interesting!

More interesting still, Someone once said, “I am the Light…” Then surprisingly this One said, “You are the light of the world…” , and he also said, “I am in you, and you are in me.” Very interesting. Sounds to me like we are being told we are made out of light from the One who is Light itself. That starts to make sense as we ponder what has happened to our loved ones who have died, and indeed, what is in store for us. Light changes form. Will we change form too? Will we shine with the light our love has produced? Will that be the only thing that counts? Will we be light from Light, chip off the ol’ block? Ponder that the next time you look in the mirror.

 

Holy One,

You have entered our dark world

Flashing your baby smile

As if you knew a secret that fills you with joy.

Shine on us

Locked in the darkness of our unknowing.

Has that baby finger spun us all

Light from Light

To chase away the darkness

As we ourselves become light-bearers in a blinded world?

What is the mystery that your Spirit whispers in our hearts?

Do we suspect all along that we are made to shine?

Come, Hope-Child, make your home in us.

Teach the world to smile.

 

 

 

My Heart Longs for You… (Ps. 63)

Why do we have an entire liturgical season dedicated to longing for Someone who is already here? Yes, Jesus has come, and he has returned to his Father. But he has also said, “I am with you until the end of the age.” So which is it? Ah…or is it both?

 

The Eternal Word really never left his Father. But in his “coming” he bent down and entered space-time, and dwelt with us, taking on a physicality we can see and touch. But that isn’t all. He bent way down, into our grief, our corruption, our dying, and our crying. He got himself all bound-up in more than swaddling bands. More, now risen from all this dying, he will return, clothed with the cosmos, and wearing every atom, for he has not lost anything the Father gave him. I believe this.

 

So what is Advent all about? All this might be true, but it might not be true for me. It is one thing to know about this, and another to know it because it has made its home in me. This is the mysterious “coming” that Advent is all about. It is a love story. It is discovering my primary intimacy, my “first love.” It is discovering the Soul of my soul. Once I am in touch with this One I will be “home.” Until I ground myself in this First Love, all my other relationships will be fighting to take its place. I will feel out of kilter, un-centered, as though I “don’t have it all together.” The “it” is my First Love. When it’s in place, all my other loves gather around it and dance. Peace is its gift to me, and joy is evidence that I have come home.

 

Funny paradox…Advent is all about my coming…home to Someone who is always waiting for me, Someone who has already come, and will finally come to claim me, because he won’t be complete until I’m there.

 

History, Mystery, and Majesty…

You came once, long ago…

You come…in and out of my awareness of You…

And you will come finally

To claim me.

Clean out my soul with longing

Empty it to make room.

Be it a tavern or a temple

Make it your own.

Center me in Yourself

So that I see clearly

All that you have given me to love.

You who are always coming

Now it is my turn…

To discover my home in You.

 

Worded Women and Men

Common Life, Common Prayer, Study, and finally, Mission (Ministry), the pillars on which the lampstand of Dominican life stands as it shines in the midst of the Church; or if you prefer, the varied prism of the charism as shines with the Spirit’s light.

For the vowed Dominican, and for those who journey with us in the light of this charism, a startling fact emerges. True, we are immersed in the Word, in person, and in the scriptures. But there is an effect that flows from this immersion. We become worded ourselves. We take on the very Word that entrances us. We gradually become worded women and men personally. We become what is called the holy preaching.

The mission of Jesus, who is robed in our humble humanness, is two-fold. His mission often is voiced in the Alleluia verse of the liturgy: Jesus proclaims the kingdom and heals. This twofold mission is the Church’s mission as it travels through time, expressing itself in the rich ministries of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.

Proclamation is the emphasis of the Dominican’s mission-gift to the Church, but the startling fact is that this mission is first manifest in the very person of the preacher, before he or she says a word. In fact, for many who live a Dominican spirituality, this is the major form of preaching they offer: they themselves are the holy preaching having become so by their contemplation of the Word.

Fed by the ongoing self-giving of the Eucharistic Jesus, they are a living word, a sign of the kingdom flowing out of a life, another form of real presence. As common as bread on the table, they proclaim the kingdom in the compassionate visit, the phone call, the greeting, the driving, the laughter, the tears, the patience in pain, loss of vision, hearing, or mobility. They are a wordless holy preaching of the reign of God in their lives.

The proclamation can take many forms. Ministries flow from this mission: teaching, pulpit preaching, nursing, working with finances, administration, music and art. But the time will come when these will lessen or stop altogether. But the holy preaching does not stop. It is not mainly a ministry, it is a way of being a worded woman or man among others. “No voice or sound is heard, yet their word goes out through all the earth.” In Dominican spirituality, we not only have a mission, we are our mission in the active and less active phases of our life.