The “Little Ones” Get it Right…

It is harvest time in this part of the world, and the Liturgical season seems to reflect this reality. The texts are pointing out “fruit” or the results in us of the wonders of the Paschal Mystery. The Spirit is working to produce results in our lives.

During this month we are presented with Therese, with Martin, with our angels…with the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary, and the final Sunday of October wraps the month up with a central truth: God is God…and we are not. This realization is the most important fruit of all.

The “little ones,” Therese, Martin, the angels, and the maid of Nazareth get it right. They are so great because God has done such marvelous things for them. They know it, they live it, and they love it.

Therese said that she would just stand there, and God would see how little she was. Then he would reach down and pick her up, and give her whatever she asked. Martin, the mulatto, cleaned latrines, and the Dominicans finally invited him to become a Dominican brother. The angel each of us has (have you taken advantage of this relationship?) delight in doing God’s bidding. And Mary…Mary’s first respond to Gabriel was our equivalent of “Who, me?”

They teach us the proper real proportion which is humility. They know they have nothing, are nothing, do nothing without God…the truth of all truths. Maybe the scriptures of this month can foster this golden fruit in us. Maybe we too can finally shake off the arrogance, the sense of privilege, the haughtiness that makes us a pain instead of a joy…to God and to those who know and love us. Yup…the little ones get it right.

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It clings to me like some BO…

My sense of self-importance.

My sense of privilege

Like God owes me.

How can God owe me when my very existence is his gift?

I think I have a fever.

I think my ego is swollen.

Help!

Bend down and cool me off…

Hold me and draw out the infection…

Help me see straight.

Fill me with that quiet assurance

That you have me and will never let me go.

The Power of the Cross

September is the time in the Church Year when we are reminded of the power of the Cross and the clear decisions we need to make to live our baptismal commitments. The structure of the cross is worth some pondering.

First there is a vertical beam. This connects heaven and earth. But it also separates: land from sea, light from darkness, possession from divestiture, power-over from compassion, going away from coming home, order from chaos.

Then there is the horizontal beam. It reaches out to gather in, like some continuous hug. And finally there is the Body. Someone is hung between the two beams, helpless, wounded, bleeding, with a heart open “like a window without shutters,” says Catherine of Siena, so that we can climb in and find refuge anytime. The One hanging on the Cross holds the two beams together.

No one seeks after pain, but suffering is different from pain. Suffering can be profound when there is no physical pain. Suffering can be love’s bonding no matter what the situation. It is key to taking on the maturing that molds us into a likeness with the Crucified…a breathtaking human beauty, like fire hidden beneath ashes. It is love’s artistry breaking open our self-centeredness, the unfolding of the clenched fist, the relaxing of the clenched jaw.

Watch for the suffering called for in these September readings as we pass the half-way mark of Ordinary Time, as we celebrate the feast of the Holy Cross, as we learn that our suffering is not a punishment, but love maturing us toward all we can be. This is the Power of the Cross.

A Future of Hope…Why?

It’s a good question. What reasons do we have to hope? Why should we be a community of hope? Francis asks this question, and so should we. The answer might surprise us.


If we look at our little selves, frail, the future full of mist and even darkness, we search in vain. So we are not the answer. The answer rests in an assurance that comes from our faith. Faith is the substance of what we hope for. The answer comes from beyond ourselves. We have an assurance that we are held in love, and this enables us to “whistle in the dark.”


The reason for our hope is this hidden God. There is this kind of ache in our hearts. We long for something and we don’t know why. Yet the heartache is there. We long for something that we can’t even name. Maybe it’s that we as a community become something new, something we have been growing toward all the while. Just as a child dreams of “growing up” yet has no clear idea what she shall be, so we too long to be what God wants for us. But if asked what that is, we must admit we’re not sure.


So we have good reason to hope. We have a Shepherd that holds us close to his heart. So now we need to take hands and walk together. We need to listen…we need to speak…then we need to walk. Only one thing is important…that we do it together, and we do it without fear. Fear is crippling, and will keep us pinched, small and narrow. The wild joy of a Dominic came from his assuring faith that when the future opens, it will be recognized by the quiet smile of hope and big-souled joy. We pray for magnanimous hearts ...

A Backward Glance as We Look Ahead…

We have turned our faces to the future. Our June gathering has set the course, and it will not do for us to try to live in the past. But I am going to suggest a quick glance.

It is not by chance, I don’t think, that Sister Mary Hortense named her book “Rooted in Hope.” No, I think she identifies something about our community. Yes, our past shows we are women of faith and women of great courageous charity. But most of all, we have been women of hope. I think it is a distinctive quality in our Dominican communal charism. “Providence has guided us in the past, and will continue to guide us in the future.” (Mother Benedicta)

Pope Francis reflected on hope during his audiences back in late 2016 and early 2017. I’m going to listen in to what he had to say, and reflect on how this might shed a bit of light on our future. I will share what I learn with you these next months.

I begin by reminding us all of the Word from last month: “Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; give thanks in all situations, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” (1Thess. 5:17-18)

I repeat that this sounds like an irrational invitation. It is, for one who has no hope. It is only for those who move into the future with hope that this scripture makes sense.

Francis agrees. We face dark times. We see nothing beyond the darkness. We seem powerless…politically and religiously for it is clear that the world is in a crisis of faith. Yet the Word assures us that God does not leave us to ourselves; that God has us by the hand. In the midst of all the news of gloom and doom, Isaiah boldly proclaimed to us back in early July, “Lo, I will spread prosperity…like a river…as a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; (Is. 66, Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time)

So hope keeps on the lookout for comforters. Keep on the lookout for them. They bring us hope, for they heal our afflicted and fearful hearts. No, they may not bring loud laughter, but they bring a smile, Francis says. A smile brings hope…an expectation of God. We smile when in our desert state we see new green growth…when we see a child, for both raise up hope within us. Scripture shows us that the future belongs to the little ones. So we ourselves must become “little ones.” Hand in hand we begin our journey into the future with a knowing little smile…rooted in hope.

What We Need for the Road

After the celebration of the big feasts…Pentecost, Trinity, Corpus Christi, the Sacred Heart…the liturgy introduced us to fact of “being sent out.” The texts were about missioning, about getting on the road. So what does that mean for us “stay at home Christians” who merely take a trip to Walgreens and back?

Being missioned is not about milage. It is about presence. We’re missioned to our families, to our jobs, to our neighbors. We are to be Good News for them. That means we are going to bring a message, intentional or not. We are a word…just being present wherever we go.

So we may not consider ourselves a missionary, but we are on mission. The people around us are waiting for a good word. First and foremost, we are a word…like it or not, so maybe we can check out how we ourselves are being “worded.” The first word we bring is ourselves.

As worded women and men, we are either good news or bad news. We are either in touch with the Word who has taken up residence deep within us, or we are presenting our ego-self to others when we enter their presence. Now how will we know?

The ol’ ego has a distinctive voice. All we need to do is learn to recognize it, and then put it in its place so it doesn’t rule. The ego-voice blames, shames, complains, whines, and rages. Memorize the little diddy for quick recall. Then just notice, that’s all. When it gets in a tizzy, when it has a fever, when it gets swollen with itself, then you will notice what’s going on. It’s the ol’ man or woman that Paul says should be dead because of baptism. But like some Frankenstein, it continues to try to make a comeback. Send it back below the waters.

You have Someone else in charge now, Someone who has brought you an Easter Gift. It’s a kind of peace the world cannot give. Don’t let yourself be robbed. So the word these weeks is going to equip you with all you need for the road. It may only be the road to your kitchen, but when you are present there, may there be peace.

Where are you, Jesus?

Where did you go?

You are not where you used to be, walking, talking with us…

Now you are wherever we are.

Help me to remember that.

Now it’s my turn to be walking and talking…

to be sent wherever my day takes me, if even only down the hall.

I’m a woman…a man…on a mission.

I’m a word for somebody…your word.

The Challenge…Rejoice always…?

As we enter more deeply into this post-Easter time, a scripture has caught my attention and it occurred to me that it was spot on as a way to live out our charism/mission statement and focus as a community. It was so challenging that I will post it here and then comment only of the first imperative it offers.  It is found in the first piece of scripture written, the first letter to the Thessalonians:

“Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; give thanks in every situation,

for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.”  1 Thess. 5: 17-18.

Paul, who has had an unforgettable encounter with the risen Jesus, is not kidding. But what are we to do with this scripture? I suggest we keep “tasting” it  - like a piece of hard candy, until we get to the raspberry in the middle.

That first imperative, “Rejoice always…” makes me want to say, “But this would mean I can’t be moody…I can’t worry…I can’t fear the future…and I do!” Paul, are you telling me that because you have looked into the face of the transformed human Jesus your moods, your worries, your fears became a waste of time? Are you telling me the same?

Why are you, who were beaten, shipwrecked, and finally beheaded, always quietly rejoicing, no matter what life dealt out to you? What had you discovered?

Then it dawns on me that because you have his word for it, you have something more powerful than the most elaborate insurance policy. Ah…but there’s the catch, for you, and for me: you took him at his word. I still need to really do that…seriously. I too have been told…”Do not be afraid…I have loved you with an everlasting love…I will be with you until the end…” So that’s it. That’s why, no matter what happened to you, your soul wore that confident little grin. You knew you had the ultimate security come hell or high water. So that’s my challenge. I have to make the leap. I need to set my face like flint…hanging on to that assurance. I need to keep focused, like you, on that unforgettable face. It’s my post-Easter Penticostal challenge.