…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.

Checking Priorities

The autumn is here in earnest, and the trees are ridding themselves of their leaves with abandon,

knowing in some secret way that they will be back…all new and green. Harvests are in. We are getting ready for

the winter sleep. The pace of the year slows down. It’s time to take stock.

The readings of November are pointing to a way to do that. Their target will be the Feast of Christ the King as

the liturgical year comes to a triumphant close, but on the way there we will be called to check out what takes

top place in our lives.

Baptism has firmly positioned us in Christ – that’s the truth. But we struggle with the day-to-day hangover of

the sin-of-the-world trying to suck us back into the sin-sense of isolation from him – and that’s the lie. Nothing

can separate us from him, no matter if we feel that way. So we are challenged to claim the deepest truth of our

lives: I am clothed with Christ, and nothing…really absolutely nothing, can separate me from him. My sins

mess up our relationship, but he is with me even in my falls, as is clear from his passion.

So it is time to reclaim my deepest truth. John has Jesus say it this way: “I am in you, and you are in me.” What

would happen if I spent this month claiming this as I put my feet on the floor in the morning, or if from my

sick-bed I said, “Lord, your presence with me is the truth, Help me to keep this in mind today. No matter what

happens, I’m not alone.”

This can really reset my spiritual compass. This reveals who is King in my life. It’s not my fear, it’s not my anxiety.

It’s this One who has bonded my poor self to his greatness, never to be parted. This One is my top priority.

Lord,

The air is filled with the scent of crumbling leaves.

In a final flash of color they let go of what has been.

It’s time for me too, to lay down what has been for me this past year.

I nest it in your mercy, good or ill.

You will know what use to make of it all.

Fix my eyes, my King, on you alone,

Keeping your constant presence in my mind’s eye.

And

Help me not to miss you when the needs of others

Make their claim on me.

Amen.

October Dominican Reflection

“They will study…they will need no other penance.”

-     Statement attributed to St. Dominic

When the white light of our charism of preaching a just word shows its colors, we speak of common life, common prayer, study, and  mission/ministry. Study is the characteristic that marks our difference among other religious orders. Other orders study when it is helpful. Dominicans study because it is constitutive to their identity. Ask religious orders who they are, and they answer, “We are vowed persons who live community by common life, common prayer, and a common mission.” (The Benedictines might add “stability in monastic life,” and the Jesuits, “faithfulness to the Holy See”) But that’s not how a Dominican will answer. The Dominican man or woman answers, “We are vowed persons who live community by common life, common prayer, common study, and common mission.” So how do we study together? We understand this pillar of our identity to exempt no one – not the Dominican in the laundry, the administrative office, the classroom, or the jail. It is our common penance. We often study in groups. So what is study for us?

Study is intentional engagement in an issue of truth-seeking. As intentional, it is not haphazard. It is something I choose deliberately to explore. It is not just reading. It is engaging what I have read. It means questioning it, critiquing it, respectfully disagreeing, or offering another view. What issue? Well, it might be an issue of justice. It might be a theological issue. It might have to do with health or science or finance or food. Wherever I am drawn to focus my energy and engage in probing, in exploring, that is where I am to seek truth, understanding, insight, the facts. Above all, study for us is “intellectual compassion.” The head rests in the heart.

The Dominican faithfully does this “penance” for the sake of the Church. Dominicans do this together, no one exempted. So I challenge each of us, and our associates, to identify our “area of intentional engagement, our area of intellectual compassion.” Perhaps one that is scriptural/theological, and one that is a service or justice focus. The “OP” once meant “Order of Penance” because the Dominicans were known for their disciplined minds. Never are we more needed in the Church, in the nation, in our cities, and in our struggling world of “alternative truths.” So, where have you chosen to do your penance?