“…and my soul will be healed.”

Some of us still chafe at the word “soul” in this newer liturgical text at the time of communion. We prefer “…that I may be healed.” In our present day understanding, “I” just seems to include “all of me.” The real problem is that we really don’t know what the soul is. Maybe it’s that old “ghost in a machine.” We just can’t get a hold on it.

We are now entering deeper into ordinary time. The readings are filled with growth images and the healing of a broken humanness. But how do you heal a broken soul? How do I even know when it’s broken? Ordinary time is that day to day string of plain old moments and events, right? But stop a moment…such ordinariness is just where the Easter Mystery is going on, and much of it is taking place in our soul. So what are we talking about?

The soul is the life force that keeps our digestion and circulation going. It is that mysterious energy that we feel when we take our pulse. The soul not only keeps our physical functions going, it has marvelous functions that go on subconsciously…without our notice. What are the psychic functions of the soul? Well, they are functions that we share with animals, believe it or not. The capacity to image things, to link images and imagine things, to dream at night or in the daytime; and most important, the eleven powerful emotions. Aristotle and Thomas tell us there are two sets of emotions: the spontaneous emotions of love/hate, desire/aversion, and joy/sadness. Then there are the more considered emotions of fear/courage, hope/despair(powerlessness) and anger, with no opposite; it is flight/fight. Now I don’t know about you, but I need a lot of healing in this part of me.

 But that isn’t all. What we have described so far is the lower part of the soul. The upper part is the human spirit, and its functions are distinct because they are open to infinite possibility. So what are the functions of the human spirit? They are four: attentiveness and wonder at our experiences; intelligent questioning for understanding; reasonable judgment on the correctness of my understanding; and finally, responsible decision based on the value judgment of what is really important to me. Again, I need a lot of healing here…what about you? So maybe we need to reclaim our souls…and they really are us…not just a ghost in a machine.

 

Here I am, Lord…

Just ordinary me, in ordinary time, doing ordinary things.

But I’m an embodied spirit, a spiritual embodiment… quite amazing!

 Heal in me the stunted that needs to grow.

 

Draw me into the future you dream for me; be the Soul of my soul.

Mutual Indwelling

The Easter glow has moved … from an outer experience then to an inward reality now. He is no longer where he once was. He is now where we are. We shine because he has come to dwell in us by the Holy Spirit.

 

But we often feel we have lost the glow. In fact, we feel pretty dull. Yet feelings are not facts…we are learning that. So the Church takes us by the hand and leads us into Ordinary Time by assuring us we will have food for the journey…his very self.

 

This month opens with the great celebration of Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ. We celebrate the wonder of the Lord’s genius. “I am going to my Father…yet I will be with you always…” and he means it. It is his final step down into time/space. He becomes our food. First step…he presses our humanness with all its brokenness to himself. Second step…he dives like an Olympic diver into the cesspool of our sin and violence. Third step…he bounces up out of death to show us it will not hold us either. Then the final step…he bends down into Bread…the Bread of life. From him we learn that we too must be ready to be blessed, broken, and shared.

 

So we are now launched into the troubled waters of this next part of our lives. Our little boats will be buffeted by the wind and waves coming from the evening news. The Church in the Sundays of June will unfold to us what we need to remember to guide our little boat. Most of all, we need to remember that he is curled up in the boat with us, willing to be roused when things really get rough. Yes, we dwell in him and he in us. It is a mutual indwelling. We don’t ever travel alone.

 

Loving Lord,

You’ve been through it all.

You’ve been there…done that.

But you are no longer there, in those times of long ago.

You are now where we are

in our times.

Don’t leave us orphans.

Stay with us for the day is nearly spent

and the night comes on.

Fill us with your Spirit,

That strong wind that guides our little boat;

That fire that warms what is chill, that water that cleanses;

The oil that heals, the blood that saves;

The wine that makes us drunk with love

and the dove that brings us peace.

…evolving? Toward Mutual Indwelling?

As we move toward our Business Chapter, we continue to pray, “Holy Mystery evolving, energize our response.” Have you wondered what these words really mean? Let’s check it out.

The Holy Mystery is God, right? Not so fast. God doesn’t evolve. God is the hiddenness that calls forth evolution into the future. God is the Word in whom all things come to be. God is the Spirit of self-giving love in which all things unfold into the future. God is love-hidden; God is love-expressed; God is love-given as gift. So what is this evolving all about? What’s evolving?

In an amazing act of self-giving love, the Mystery we call “God” burst out of its dance of love to create the angelic and material world. This outburst of love was a single Word, and “all that came to be, came to be in him, and without him was made nothing that was made.” On the science side this breath of love, this outburst, is called “the big bang.” Atoms met and kissed and basic elements appeared. We finally appeared, made of cosmic soup…our physical frames made of stardust. So…who ever said this evolving is finished? Scripture reminds us, “We know not what we shall be, but we shall be like him…”

Our DNA is partner in a wedding. The eternal Word married us, never to part. The mystery of the incarnation is the wedding, and Mary’s womb, the wedding chamber. The Word has bonded the Godhead to us, so where we go, God goes. There is no gap. We made a sin-gap, but he healed it with his blood. There is no gap. And we are evolving. So the Bridegroom goes along for the ride. In fact, that presence will make sure we arrive according to plan. When the risen Jesus ascended to his Father, the first thing God said, was “Son, where are the rest?” And he said, “They’re coming, Father, they’re coming.”

So we live our ordinary days trying to remember “I am in you, and you are in me” a mutual indwelling. It is we who are evolving. But he is there…the unchanging One, carrying us like a bride into our future. He in us and we in him…that is the full Holy Mystery. There is no gap. The Word, bonded to our humble humanness, carries us in time/space into all that we can be. He and we together are The Holy Mystery evolving. For without him we are nothing, and can do nothing. With him we are his Body, calling all of culture to the dream of God, his love-breath energizing us with the same Spirit love-breath that burst forth long ago. So we pray….”Holy Mystery evolving, energize our response.” “Free us, enlighten us, seize us; lead us, awaken us, draw us; guide us, open us, urge us; nudge us, move us, teach us.”

“He is not here…where He was…

With the coming of May, we are still in the Easter glow. We appear in the darkness of human struggle like some human firefly. Faith lights us up and yes, by faith we can see in the dark.

 

Easter calls us back to our baptism, when we shed our mourning clothes and he claimed us as his own. But we forget. So the Church in these Sundays keeps reminding us of our primary intimacy: God-with-skin-on, as the pre-schoolers say. He is the one by whom we are saved.

 

We are identified as those who “know” him…and he “knows” us. He marries us in the wedding chamber of the virgin’s womb. Then he hob-nobs with us, and we can’t quite figure him out. Then he goes to the depth of our violence toward one another…only to let it swallow him. But he is a poison-pill, for in destroying him physically, death itself is destroyed. It splits open, and we get a peek at what comes after…for he is the Truth that loves, and he cannot be destroyed. But wonder of wonders, he show us that this is our future too. He then carries our humble humanness back home with him like a bride over the threshold…and breathes his Spirit into us to help us remember that ‘til the end of time he has relocated: “I am in you, and you are in me.”

 

With the feast of the Trinity we remember once again that our ideas of God have been far too small. He shows us that the immensity of God is three “Somethings…” Love as Source, Love as Expression, and Love as merciful Self-Gift dancing around in an eternal unity dance.

 

How on earth are we to respond to all this wonder?

 

I think we learn how to respond from …the Lady. We call her “Our Blessed Lady.” May is her month, when all of nature renews itself, and even the flowers proclaim that God intends people to come in different colors.

 

Mary is just one of us. As one of us she is the arch-type of what human response can be. She is told of a plan, and she says…”Yes, of course…” and knowingly signs a blank check. She brings him forth from her own everyday life. She hangs on when her whole world falls apart…she waits in the darkness of Holy Saturday. Sound familiar?

 

Makes me think of those I know who are still saying, “Yes, of course…” to very difficult commitments…of those who labor in the midst of ridicule to bring forth justice…of those whose lives have been shattered…of those who wait for release from prisons physical, mental, and spiritual. Yes, Mary is one of us…she says, “…been there…done that.” She hangs on in the dark…and so must we.

 

He is now where we are…”     St. John Chrysostom

“Launch out into the deep…”

We’ve pinned it down for now… both our Mission Statement and our Focus Statement begin with a reference to presence. So why all this emphasis on presence, and what might it mean? A few thoughts…

Our primary of being preaching women and men is by our presence, wherever our feet take us. As part of the Dominican Family we identify with the Word; we keep our eyes on the Word; we immerse ourselves into the Word, both in our prayer and study. Then we try to walk-the-talk.

 

So what kind of presence do we bring as consecrated women wherever we are? And what kind of presence do we bring as associates as we are present to our spouses, to our children and grandkids, and to our dear friends? Maybe it’s time to go back to basics.

 

We are all vowed, folks. We all have affirmed our baptismal vows this last Holy Saturday. That’s where we all start, on the common ground of being signed, sealed, and delivered as followers of this Christ Jesus who has stolen our hearts. He is our primary relationship, our first intimacy. He is the center jewel. All our other relationships surround that central Pearl of great price. This Christic relationship is our oneness, our unity.Then comes our choice of life-style.

 

How will we live out this love? Some of us are present to a spouse to be our companion in loving, and our families are the flowering of this love. So we add marital vows to those of our baptism.

 

Others become so fixed on this Word that they live out their presence by a vow a celibate love to pour themselves out in service to those who are the Word’s disguises in this life. They add religious vows to those of their baptism.

 

Then there are others who in their single life-style, live out their love as free spirits. But don’t be deceived. These dear single ones among us have the greatest challenge, for they do not have a second set of vows to guide them as the rest of us do. They need to be very intentional about choosing the communal support that will call forth their loving presence as their lives unfold. For them there is no given context provided by a marriage or a religious community. We need to reach out to them.

 

For each of us, our presence flows from our very person through our life-style. All of us are lovers. We live out our loving in the life-style we have chosen; it is our unique presence. Now for all of us, sisters and associates, that’s quite a focus.

"Beloved..."

 

That’s our name – our scriptural name. Pay attention, don’t brush it off. Remembering that it is what God always calls us can bring us out of a funk. We need to remember.

 

The liturgy has brought us into the brilliant light of the resurrection. We are almost blinded by the beauty of Word as he emerges from the tomb like some magnificent butterfly: the same as went in, but now so different. Pay attention to what comes after misery and death.

 

We almost breathe a sigh of relief. The shadows and darkness of the Passion are behind us (Really? Be careful.) and it is so great to see that this sweet Word sent to us from the Father is no longer dead. He lives.

So, as beloved, why must we be careful? We need to stop a bit and remember: this is not only about Jesus. It’s about the beloved too. It’s our story, closer to us than our cheek.

 Most of us don’t live too long in the blinding light of the resurrection, in the promise that one day we will be as he is, “…that we shall be like him.” We slog it out down in the valley of shadows, storms, struggles, and sighs. But remembering our name might just help out to walk our daily walk with a sly little smile.

We know who we are, and whose we are. No mistakes, no hidden sins, no moments of losing it can change that. We are the beloved. In our deepest darkest sorrows, when the darkness is so thick we can cut it with a knife, we need to remember our name. This simple practice may just be our “hand-up” when we are really down.

The paschal mystery story we have just retold ourselves is our story. We will know rejection of our sincerest efforts. We will be betrayed by someone we love. We will try to struggle with the load of the day and fall down…again and again. We may be stripped of our dignity. We will need to face our own dying. But through it all we will be picked up and carried by the One who calls our name, over and over…The sound of who we are is the wind beneath our wings. Nothing and no one can separate us from the grasp of the risen One who calls us beloved.

 

You give me life and forget so much…

Thank you.

Keep eastering in me

day by day.

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.