"I Can Do Hard Things"

We had a happy Easter here - David surprised us by coming home for the weekend, and we hosted family for dinner. I hope your weekend was equally happy.

I've recently been blessed by a series of letters from the pastor of Grace Episcopal church on Bainbridge Island; they have enriched the Easter season for me. I have been thinking a lot about the events of Holy Week, and what Jesus' words and actions mean - what they meant for his time, and what they mean for me, in my time. 

In the last 24 hours, many sparks of inspiration have flown. Today, this appeared in one of my devotionals:

" 'Do not be afraid.'

"These words were spoken to the shepherds at the beginning of Jesus' life, and they are spoken to the women at the tomb, first by the angel and then by Jesus himself. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid of life in all its beauty and all its messiness; do not be afraid of death in all its many disguises - perhaps the death of a beloved friend or family member, the death of a dream or the overwhelming deaths that come as a result of disaster or war. We live in a Good Friday world, and yet we proclaim that God's love is bigger than any grim, bleak, terrible thing the Good Friday world can throw at us. The diagnosis, the heartbreak, the tornado, even the funeral, is not the last word.

"Fill us with the hope, courage and faith of Easter." -  Jeanne Lischer, A Daily Spiritual Seed

And from Richard Rohr: 

"Seek joy in God and peace within yourself; seek to rest in the good, the true, and the beautiful. It will be the only resting place that will also allow you to hear and bear the darkness."

Last night, on the PBS series, "Call the Midwife,"  an accident resulted the death of a young man, and as the characters grappled with their grief, I caught this line - perhaps I'm misquoting it, but the gist was: "God is not in the events, but in the response to them." 

And this morning, at the beginning of yoga class, our instructor read the following excerpt from an article in Sun Magazine. It's part of an interview with author Barbara Kingsolver:

"There’s something I have said so often to my children that now they chant it back to me: 'You can do hard things.' I sent my kids to a Montessori preschool, and thank heavens I did, because most of what I learned about parenting came from those wonderful Montessori teachers.  They straightened me out about self-esteem.  There’s this myth that self-esteem comes from making everything easy for your children and making sure they never fail.  If they never encounter hardship or conflict, the logic goes, they’ll never feel bad about themselves. Well, that’s ridiculous.  That’s not even a human life.

"Kids learn self-esteem from mastering difficult tasks.  It’s as simple as that. The Montessori teachers told me to put my two-year-old on a stool and give her the bread, give her the peanut butter, give her the knife — a blunt knife — and let her make that sandwich and get peanut butter all over the place, because when she’s done, she’ll feel like a million bucks.  I thought that was brilliant...When a task was difficult, that’s when I would tell them, 'You can do hard things.'  Both of them have told me they still say to themselves, 'I can do hard things.'  It helps them feel good about who they are, not just after they’ve finished, but while they’re engaged in the process."

All of these words of wisdom help to remind me that life is not "wrong" when hard things happen. Hard things are a natural part of life, and as we rise to meet them, we grow; we grow stronger and more flexible, more mature and useful. 

The greatest growth in my life has come from the hardest things. This does not necessarily mean that I enjoy the difficulties, but as my yoga teacher reminded us, we can show up, and practice - gently, willingly, courageously (and sometimes humorously) do our best.

And then, tonight, I saw this.

This article (and video) took me back to the Easter love of God, of Jesus.

Yes, we can do hard things.

Present to The Presence

"What we’re doing in contemplation is learning, quite simply, how to be present. That is the only way to encounter any other presence, including God in prayer, Jesus in the Eucharist, and Jesus in others. The change is all and always on our side. God is present everywhere all the time. There really is not much point in arguing about IF and HOW Jesus is present in the bread and wine; simply be present yourself and you will know all that you need to know. It is an exercise in surrender and presence from your side alone.

"...God is always given from God’s side, but we have to learn how to receive such total givenness, which is a very vulnerable position for humans. So Jesus said 'Eat it' and did not say 'think about it,' which is our defensive control tower. The Christian strategy seems to be this: struggle with divine presence in one focused, determined, and assured place (bread and wine, which is just about as universal a symbol as you can get)—and from that moment of space and time move to all space and all time..." -Richard Rohr, adapted from CAC Foundation Set: Gospel Call to Compassionate Action (Bias from the Bottom) and Contemplative Prayer

I love this piece by Father Rohr. It speaks to me because everything in our world moves so fast, and is now full of mental - as well as audible - noise. The internet, our mobile devices, WIFI, telephone, TV, parties, news...words abound, delivered through voices everywhere, and what are they saying? Is it something we need to hear, something of blessing, or is it just noise?

It is easy to become addicted to the noisy input and constant contact. I would never have guessed that it could be addictive, because I love silence, but it is - studies are showing this to be true, in a Pavlov's-dogs sort of way. The phone/device emits a "ding," and we are so addicted to the "rush" which it elicits that we have to  - we cannot NOT - respond to it. Why else would people take risks such as typing (not watching where they are going) while operating a motor vehicle at speed?

Fr. Rohr's words point to a reality which is vital in human relationships: presence. I recently spoke about healing presence in my graduation speech at the Academy. Healing presence is something which each of us possesses, to varying degrees, and the primary element in it is our presence - we must first show up, not just in body, but in mind, heart and spirit. Our genuine presence has the potential to bring healing to any situation.

Practicing true, full presence is much more challenging than it sounds in this busy, noisy world - a world where we engage in multiple activities at the same time - but it is truly worth the effort. Meditation and contemplative prayer teach us to practice presence. Sitting in silence for even one minute is not easy, but it is powerfully revealing.

Taking a position about who is allowed to receive the Eucharist, and what it means, is thinking about, rather than entering into, presence. "So Jesus said 'Eat it' and did not say 'think about it,' which is our defensive control tower." These words are simple genius. "Our defensive control tower" could also be noise, busyness, entertainment and ceaseless action, or response to the "ringtones" in our lives.

When I receive the Eucharist and "Do this in remembrance" of Jesus, somehow, I am gently opened. He comes into my offered presence as nourishment, food and drink, and is taken into my being on a cellular level. He is invited and received into my body, heart and mind. Eating the bread and drinking the wine is a way in which I can offer humility, openness, need, and gratitude. It is one of the reasons I love to participate in worship: the Presence meeting my presence - our collective presence - as gift.

This poem by Lynn Ungar was read in worship service on Sunday:

Salvation
By what are you saved: And how?
Saved like a bit of string,
tucked away in a drawer?
Saved like a child rushed from
a burning building, already
singed and coughing smoke?
Or are you salvaged
like a car part - the one good door
when the rest is wrecked?

Do you believe me when I say
you are neither salvaged nor saved,
but salved, anointed by gentle hands
where you are most tender?
Haven't you seen
the way snow curls down
like a fresh sheet, how it
covers everything,
makes everything
beautiful, without exception?

May our days be filled with moments of true presence to the One who is always present to us.

Things Fall Apart

I've started attending church again. I haven't regularly attended church since Katie was admitted to the hospital in October of 2006...not because I was mad at God, but because I couldn't stand the crowds of people, nor contain my emotions during worship. I've been known to cry uncontrollably in church, which is distracting and distressing to me (and perhaps to others). But I've found a church that doesn't evoke floods of tears, and am enjoying it.

It's possible that I "should" go back to my old church, and simply surrender to my grief; let the tears come as I re-enter that place where we were once so happy, so much a part of things, held in great love. However, I haven't felt drawn to do so, and I'm going to honor that.

The homily in today's service touched on Jesus' prophecy that things were going to get very hot, very bad for his disciples. He spoke of catastrophe, betrayals, destruction, trials and the coming need to verbally give account, or defend the faith. He told his disciples that some of them would be killed, but then said "not a hair of your head will be harmed." What? How can both of those truths coexist? Apparently, he was speaking poetically about those precious hairs.

Every time I hear such words nowadays, I hear them through the filter of what happened to Katie and to our family. It's not an intellectual exercise; it just happens - I can't not go there. All stories that involve things falling apart, ground breaking up underfoot, loss, disaster - anything that brings to mind the end of the world as we know it - reminds me of the year of Katie's illness and death. I always ask myself if these things are true, in light of my own experience. It makes church very interesting.

The privilege of sharing the Eucharist on a quiet Sunday morning is important to me. I love that ritual, and its deep symbolic and literal meaning. It is a tiny feast, a weekly "Thanksgiving" meal, where all are welcome; it is purifying, nourishing and comforting.

In his homily, the pastor also asked us where we go - to whom do we turn - when things fall apart. He gave us his own answer, which was a bit surprising - and it made me think.

To whom do I turn? 

The "right" answer would be "to God," but I'm not sure that's completely true - at least, it's not that simple or direct. I turn inward, at first, when the ground is pulled out from under my feet. I take stock - do a quick assessment - of what has happened, what I have and what I have lost.

I turn to God, yes, but I also turn to those closest to me - my family. That's where we turned when Katie got sick - to the solidarity of one another's love and care - as well as to our home community, the larger community of Seattle Children's Hospital, our church and Ronald McDonald House. God was (is) present in all of those people and entities. He showed His love and presence through their love and caring.

After sitting in church with two of my friends (both of them bereaved parents), I drove home and felt grateful and privileged to be able to worship, as well as to have been able to go on a date on Saturday with my husband. We hiked for a few miles on a trail that is new to us, looked at beautiful wooden boats in a marina, boats on the ways (in all states of repair/disrepair), and then we moseyed through the Victorian town, admiring the architecture. Finally, we stopped at a pub for a light meal and a beer, and then finished our date at the local ice cream/candy shop. It was lovely.

We have lost a great deal, but we have not lost everything (as some of the victims of the typhoon in the Philippines have). But our loss touches everything; everything was (and is) affected by it. Nothing - not one thing - is as it was before Katie got sick and died, leaving our family to go on with three of us here, and one there.

There is a part of me that will always see my life through the lens of "things falling apart." In the six years since Katie's passing, I have adjusted to seeing life through the eyes of a woman who lives with three people in one room at Ronald McDonald House.

I am still that woman: the one who takes a walk each day to let off steam; who runs to the 5th floor of the hospital in her pajamas to shower before her daughter wakes up; who steals a couple of hours a week to spend alone with her husband, trying to preserve her marriage under intense stress; one who shares one bathroom with a minimum of three other people; one who has become a nurse, juggling medical supplies, helping her sick child to walk where she doesn't want to go, pushing a wheelchair, knowing her healthy child is not getting the attention he deserves, but unable to be in two places at once.

Though the conditions of my life have changed, I still see the world through that woman's eyes.

I continue to be amazed that we can go anywhere we'd like on a date, taking as much time as we wish, ordering whatever sounds good. It is such a privilege. While I might have previously thought (in my ignorance) that I "deserved" such abundance, now I know that it is all gift, and that it can come - and go - at any time. Jesus predicted it in his day, and it is still obviously true - friends will betray, disasters will happen, what we thought we could control slips through our hands. Though I have been given much, much has been required of me. Any time at all, anything can happen...and it's interesting that, rather than frightening me, this knowledge makes me grateful for everything I have, and for everything I have had to let go.

What an appropriate message for the week of Thanksgiving, and of David's 21st birthday.

The Key to Happiness

I came across a posting on facebook yesterday that made me laugh out loud, long and hard. This is what I saw:

Pardon the profanity, please.

Boy, I thought, if it were only that easy! But how can you tell the *ssholes from the "normal" people - the good ones, the healthy ones, the trustworthy ones? I seem to get into the most trouble when I trust people who appear to be trustworthy, but later find that they are not who they appeared to be. Some of them behave like *ssholes, and I do indeed wish that I had stayed "the h*ll away from" them.

As I thought further about this, I realized that it isn't quite the Christian perspective on the key to happiness - and I am a Christian, so I need to contemplate this. 

Jesus went out of his way to interact with those on the margins of society - I'll call them outcasts - the lepers, the poor, sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes - and, even among his own disciples, betrayers. If I look deeply and honestly, I've got some *sshole in me, too - some leper, some things that aren't so pretty, admirable or desirable.

Richard Rohr posted something about this a few weeks ago, and it came back to me yesterday:

"Isn’t it wonderful news, brothers and sisters, that we come to God not by our perfection but by our imperfection?...Deep within each of us lives both a leper and a wolf, both of which we are ashamed and afraid of. In Franciscan lore, they are our inner imperfections...If we haven’t been able to kiss many lepers, if we haven’t been able to tame many wolves in the outer world, it’s probably because we haven’t first of all made friends with our own leprosy and the ferocious wolf within each of us. They are always there in some form, waiting to be tamed and needing to be forgiven." - Richard Rohr, adapted from Radical Grace: Daily Meditations, p. 276

Hello...we can't stay away from *ssholes, because each of us has one, and perhaps, is one - a wolf - in some way, at some time. If we are really honest with ourselves, we can admit this. Though I have suffered my share of betrayals, and I would never intentionally do harm to another, I must admit that I have made mistakes, and am sure I will make many more before I leave this earth. If I am to avoid *ssholes, I would have to avoid my own wolf, and leper, too - and that's not possible. They are part of me. I need to tame and forgive those parts of myself before I can offer that kind of grace to another.

Dang it.

Fr. Rohr posted further: 

"There is a cruciform pattern to reality. Life is filled with contradictions, tragedies, and paradoxes, and to reconcile them you invariably pay a big price...It eventually becomes evident that you’re going to get nailed for any life of real depth or love, because this upsets the world’s agenda of progress. This is not what the world wants, and not what the world understands. Any life of authenticity will lead to its own forms of crucifixion—from others, or, often, leading to various forms of self-denial. [The Gospel of] Mark constantly brings us back to the central importance of suffering. There’s no other way we’re going to break through to the ultimate reality that we call resurrection without going through the mystery of transformation, which is dramatically symbolized by the cross." - Adapted from The Four Gospels

So the cross is a symbol, a "note to self," a billboard, a banner, a memo, a reminder that this is the way life is; suffering is the way humans tend to experience transformation. We are not transformed by surrounding ourselves with a select group of people who will never hurt or disaappoint us (do such people exist?), but by mingling with whoever and whatever crosses the path of our life - including betrayals. Everyone has within him a wolf and a leper (or, if you prefer, an *sshole). You might not see that part of him right away, but you are likely to encounter it in someone. This doesn't necessarily mean you have made a mistake; it may be that this is your learning, your cross, your suffering, your transformative experience - at this time. Dang it!

This has been a lesson of the past 10 months, for me. I have regrets. I have spent a lot of time wishing I had been wiser about who to trust, but I was vulnerable, and did not see clearly. It helps to remember that this is the pattern of the cross - it is not personal; it is universal.

The following prayer in the book "Praying Our Goodbyes" by Joyce Rupp has been of enormous comfort to me recently (p. 114-116), and I hope it will be to you, as well:

"Keep my heart open to loving others and to being loved by them, God. Do not allow me to close off my life because of the scars of this painful rejection. Lead me into peace of heart. Help me to believe in my own goodness, so much so that I can reach out to others with confidence and receive their affection with trust. I pray for all those who have been brutally and harshly betrayed...and I pray for the one who has rejected me. Jesus, you continued to be a loving person even though you had been so painfully treated. Please help me to be a loving person, too. Amen." 

I believe that kind of prayer is a real key to happiness...but the one posted on facebook did make me laugh!

"No! No! No!"

That's the attention-grabbing title of the chapter I just read in Beth Moore's "John: 90 Days with the Beloved Disciple." And it did grab my attention.

This chapter is centered on Acts 12, verses 1-5. It reminds me of how tenderly God knows, and holds, my heart (and yours). Bare facts are laid out about the persecution of the early Good News teachers, in this case about the imprisonment of Peter, and the death by the sword of James (the elder brother of John, the beloved disciple for whom the book is named).

Since this book is about John, the event of his brother's death is significant. The death of anyone's sibling is significant, and this pair of brothers had left their family business (they were fishermen, with their father) to follow Jesus together. They were a team within a team.

Can you imagine the shock, bewilderment, survivor's guilt, confusion, grief, fear, remorse and questioning of purpose that must have assaulted John's heart and mind after his brother's murder? They had embarked upon this adventure together, not knowing where it would lead, but answering a clear call from Jesus himself. They had journeyed with Jesus during his ministry, sharing in his presence, hearing his teaching, watching him perform miracles and watching him die, seeing his risen body and accepting his further call to continue to be his witnesses to the ends of the earth.

What could the death of one of the chosen disciples possibly mean - about their calling, about their mission, about the one who died, about each survivor, and (perhaps most importantly), about their Father, who Jesus had fleshed out and described for them?

How could a Father call His children, give them a mission, start a movement, and then allow this to happen?

I could feel myself enter this story as I never had before - as the mother of a bereaved sibling - and it brought me back to the earliest days after Katie's passing, of sitting on our yellow couch, wrestling with God - and with the image of God which I held. It reminded me of David's suffering at his sister's death - his best friend! - and how he may have felt. It reminded me of how I felt, too.

Some of Beth's reflections which brought this to light again:
"...these were men with the power and authority of the Holy Spirit to heal diseases and cast out demons...the disciples were promised power and were told they would be Christ's witnesses all over Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and the uttermost parts of the earth. His ministry had just begun! No, this couldn't be the end. He [James] would surely be delivered!
"Then they killed him.

"...When you grapple with questions like, 'Why did God let the blood of my brother spill..?' the explanations of others only frustrate you more.

"Solitude is not so much the place we find answers. It's the place we find our own square foot of earth from which to grapple with heaven and decide if we're going on--possibly alone--without our answers. And many of us will. Why? Because the privilege of wrestling with such a holy and mysterious God still beats the numbness--the pitiful mediocrity--of an otherwise life. Sometimes we don't realize how real He is until we've experienced the awesomeness of His answerless Presence. He knows that what we crave far more than explanations is the unshakable conviction that He is utterly, supremely God." - p. 139-141

Does "answerless" mean uncaring in the face of our grief, and our children's grief? I think not. But it does mean mysterious, unfathomable, and worthy of awe. We have the freedom and privilege to choose how we will relate to this Presence. He does not force us to accept his embrace - no true lover would - but He constantly invites us to sit, rest, gaze, reflect and encounter his presence. If we choose to surrender to His greatness and mystery, we are not promised answers nor a smooth path - but we are promised love, grace and presence. Somehow, it is sufficient - because He is sufficient.

Thunderstorms, Crafts and a Sweet Friend

We've been having severe thunderstorms here (severe for us; probably not severe by midwestern standards). Last Sunday night, the thunderclaps were so loud that they woke alot of people out of a sound sleep, including me and David and my mother. The lightning was so bright that it lit up the sky - as well as our bedroom and bathroom - and it went on for what seemed like a long time. Mother Nature is very impressive!

It has happened on a couple of other days, and I don't like to go out and walk when I think lightning might strike. I know the odds aren't great that I'll get hit, but I prefer to wait it out indoors, so my exercise schedule has been a little bit "off." What to do while waiting out a storm? How about a craft project?

My parents' 60th wedding anniversary is coming up in August, and I am creating the table centerpieces for a celebration. I've ordered the invitations, the cake, the flowers - it's been great fun. The cake has a beach-theme (my mother's request), so the centerpieces have, as well. I've been designing these in my head for a couple of months, and while stuck indoors this week, I went to my "workshop" (a corner of the garage that I have filled with driftwood, shells and sea glass), fired up the hot glue gun, and got creative.

This is the result:

It's a wreath, covered with shells and sea glass. 

I learned how to do this years ago - a friend taught me - but back then, I made large wreaths with driftwood, which required a drill and wire. I don't want to do that any more - now, it's just me and my hot glue gun.

The next step is to put a candle in the middle of the wreath, and set both of them on a glass plate, with a little bed of sand in the plate, and a homemade "placemat" underneath (I'll do that the day of the party). 

It will look something like this (without the backdrop).

I was having so much fun that I lost track of time, and worked for three hours, skipping breakfast and lunch (by accident)! David finally came downstairs to find me, and I was shocked to learn that it was 2:30 P.M.

 Since there was more thunder today, I finished all four of them. Working with a hot glue gun and beach glass is great fun, and can be very therapeutic (and addictive).

On another topic, today I received a package; it had birthday gifts and a card in it. I don't normally review my gifts online, but these are so special that I had to show you.

This is a mobius bracelet, with a verse inscribed on it (Matthew 22: 37). The verse is taken from the Old Testament, and is known as the Shema. According to Wikipedia, "Jesus of Nazereth [s/b spelled Nazareth] considered the beginning exhortation of the Shema to be the first of his two greatest commandments: 'The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.' (KJV)." The bracelet has the last part of the quote on it; I love it!

The second gift in the box was this:

The photo doesn't quite do it justice. I think there is a lot of symbolism in all of the ornaments on the cross; it would be wonderful to meet this artist and ask her about it. I hung it up right away, near where I work.

Thank you so much, MB! I love you, dear friend.

"God Hugs You"

"God hugs you.
You are encircled by the arms
of the mystery of God." 

 - Hildegarde of Bingen

I am reading a book by Beth Moore called "JOHN: 90 days with the Beloved Disciple." It is a large book (440 beautiful, thick, cream-colored pages with deckle edges), and is part textbook and part journal. I am loving the study.

John is one of my favorite disciples, because of the way he saw and understood Jesus and Our Father. This book takes me deep into a sort of lectio divina process each day, entering the Biblical scenes with the disciples and imagining what it was like for them to walk with Jesus, listen to him and learn from him. There is a short scriptural reading for each day, a reflection on the scripture passage and a couple of journaling and/or prayer prompts.

The message of LOVE comes through this book loudly and clearly. As is often the case with any daily devotional practice, I frequently feel as if the reading was specifically written for ME that day. What an intimate and blessed feeling that is. The scriptural passage was from John 21: 15 - 23. I enjoy reading parallel versions, especially in The Message and The Amplified Bible.

Today's reading and reflections were helpful, discussing Jesus' repetition of the question, "Do you love me?" to Peter. I was blessed by Beth's reflections, especially words such as these:
"We might feed the sheep or serve the flock based on other motivations for a while, but only one thing will compel us to follow the Lord Jesus Christ faithfully to the death: love!...Only love will keep burning when everything else disintegrates into an ashen heap. Pray for this one thing more than you pray for your next breath. I am convinced love is everything.
     "But I wasn't the first one convinced. I simply follow a long line of believers who failed their way into the discovery that love is the highest priority and motivating force in the entire life of faith...
     "Beloved, over and over Jesus tells us, 'You can trust Me!' In this scene He is saying to His present-day disciples, 'You can trust Me with you, and you can trust Me with them. I am the same God to all of you, but I have a different plan for each of you. You won't miss it if you keep following. Remember, I've been a carpenter by trade. Custom blueprints are My specialty. God's glory is My goal. Now fill your canteen to the brim with love and follow Me.' " (pages 107 - 109)

What precious encouragement in difficult times, confusing times, painful times, uncertain times, in-between, liminal times. I thank God for Jesus, and for faithful mentors, writers, saints and apostles who inspire and teach us, remind us of what is true, and breathe freshness onto our path.

When the Answer is "No"

"Gladly endure whatever goes against you and do not let good fortune carry you away; for this can destroy faith." - Clare of Assisi

 
It's been a bit of a difficult week for me. Nothing major, but interior difficulties that don't really bear repeating, yet contribute to a general attitude of discouragement.

Yesterday, as I pondered a familiar scripture passage in the book I'm reading (John: 90 Days with the Beloved Disciple by Beth Moore), I read it as if I had never heard it before. There was a kernel of truth in it that took me completely by surprise, and gave me a gift of encouragement.

The passage is Matthew 23: 36-46 (you can read it by clicking on the link; I like to read parallel versions to get more out of the passage, and two of my favorites are The Message and The Amplified Bible).

Matthew is telling the story of Jesus' night of prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. This is the story of his earnest request that he NOT have to go through what he knew was coming. He asked his friends to watch and pray with him as he went through this intense interior struggle; here is the part that shook me awake:

"...he plunged into an agonizing sorrow. Then he said, "This sorrow is crushing my life out. Stay here and keep vigil with me."
 Going a little ahead, he fell on his face, praying, "My Father, if there is any way, get me out of this. But please, not what I want. You, what do you want?"
 ...Again he prayed, "My Father, if there is no other way than this, drinking this cup to the dregs, I'm ready. Do it your way."
...a third time [he prayed], going over the same ground one last time." (The Message)

 The Amplified Bible does indeed amplify, using these words to describe Jesus' anguish:

"He began to show grief and distress of mind and was deeply depressed.

 Then He said to them, 'My soul is very sad and deeply grieved, so that I am almost dying of sorrow. Stay here and keep awake and keep watch with Me.'

 And going a little farther, He threw Himself upon the ground on His face and prayed saying, 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass away from Me; nevertheless, not what I will [not what I desire], but as You will and desire'^...Again a second time He went away and prayed, 'My Father, if this cannot pass by unless I drink it, Your will be done.' "

I didn't realize that Jesus was so distressed, to the point of "almost dying of sorrow." I never considered his own grief or deep depression. Those words seemed to be beneath him, as the Son of God. But there there are - blazing from the page. Jesus was depressed, distressed, nearly dying of sorrow. All of a sudden, I realized , He knows. He knows what it's like to practically not be able to breathe because of the weight of grief and sorrow.

Then, I realized the biggest news: Jesus, in whose name we often pray for the things we want, did not get the answer he wanted in prayer. He begged his Father to "let this cup pass," to NOT have to go through what he knew was coming, yet God did NOT grant that request. God granted the second part of the prayer "Thy [God's] will be done."

Jesus had the heart of a son, and he was willing to accept his Father's will, but with what pain and anguish he accepted it! God, for His own reasons, said an absolute "No" to the request that Jesus be allowed to escape death on a cross. Yes, He raised him from the dead, but Jesus had to hang from the cross for hours, in agony, until he died of suffocation. God's answer was "No" to Jesus, in a way that became an eternal "Yes" for the world.

But the part that shocked me most - and encouraged me, as well - is realizing that Jesus' prayer in Gethsemane was not unlike our prayers for Katie. The answer we received was also a horrible, painful, "No." But if God could say "No, this is not My way" to His own Son, then perhaps I might be able to see our "No" differently: not as a failure on my part, or anyone's part; not as if our prayers were ignored, or mistaken, or in vain, but as part of a larger universe, where such things happen - even in God's own family. If we are faithful in our relationship with Him, and willing to work with Him, He can continue to bless us in His love, even through (and after) the hardest "No" imaginable.

“Father in heaven, you have given me a mind to know you, a will to serve you, and a heart to love you. Give me today the grace and strength to embrace your holy will and fill my heart with your love that all my intentions and actions may be pleasing to you. Give me the grace to be charitable in thought, kind in deed, and loving in speech towards all." - http://www.dailyscripture.net/

Our Father [Mother]

When I walk for exercise, I often go by myself. Depending upon the weather and my committments, the time of day varies, but I often take the same route. During part of the walk, I usually pray the Lord's Prayer.

“When you pray,” returned Jesus, “you should say,

‘Father, may your name be honoured

—may your kingdom come!

Give us each day the bread we need,

and forgive us our sins,

for we forgive anyone who owes anything to us;

and keep us clear of temptation.’”

- Luke 11:2-10, J.B. Phillips New Testament

It has occurred to me lately how fortunate we are that Jesus gave us this prayer, and that he started it with the words, "Our Father." What a privilege, that we are invited - we are actually taught by His firstborn son - to approach God on such intimate terms. (If you have father-issues, perhaps you would prefer "our Mother").

"Say among the nations: The LORD is king.
He has made the world firm, not to be moved;
he governs the peoples with equity.
Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice;
let the sea and what fills it resound;
let the plains be joyful and all that is in them!
Then shall all the trees of the forest exult." - Ps 96:10, 11-12, 13

God is King, and He is our Father [Mother] - yours and mine. We have been created, called into being, (some like to say, "adopted") by the King. We are all part of a royal family, by the loving grace of God. With all of the celebrations surrounding the anniversary of the Queen of England's reign this year, it is a privilege to consider that you, I, and everyone we meet are also daughters and sons of the King.

This doesn't mean that we won't have difficulties, but it does imply that we can't be stripped of our heritage - an awareness which can help us, especially during hard times. The disciple Peter puts it this way:

"Beloved: The end of all things is at hand.
Therefore be serious and sober-minded so that you will be able to pray.
Above all, let your love for one another be intense,
because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining.
As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another
as good stewards of God's varied grace.
Whoever preaches, let it be with the words of God;
whoever serves, let it be with the strength that God supplies,
so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ,
to whom belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

"Beloved, do not be surprised that a trial by fire is occurring among you, as if something strange were happening to you.But rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ,
so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly." - 1 Pt 4:7-13

Pray. Love. Serve. Hospitality. Glory to God. Sufferings. Glory to God.

I love simple instructions - in fact, the simpler, the better.

"He brings everything to completion, and fills all things, in general and in particular, completely and essentially with himself. He is more intimately and more really present to everything by his being than each thing is to itself, for in him all things are united together, and live in him eternally." On Cleaving to God by St. Albert the Great

What does He offer us? Completion. Fulfillment. Intimacy. Presence. Union. Home. Eternal Life.

One of the most moving and transformational displays which I've ever witnessed of what this way of life can bring in the way of fellowship, openness, community, praise, surrender, love and acceptance was during the Living Proof LIVE event in Kansas City in April. I've written about it here. Now, there is a brief video online which will show you a tiny slice of the energy of love and prayer that was in that place. Here it is (look closely and you'll see Maribeth on stage).

Up here in the North, this kind of display (nearly 10,000 people praying together) is not common - but it is a blessing. We are all children of the King. Thanks be to God!

The Spark of the Divine

Perhaps an aspect of the radical goodness of the Good News which was truly GOOD and truly NEWS is the promise, expectation and awareness of the Holy Spirit in each one of us.

“You will receive power

when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.” ~ Acts 1:8

"To span the infinite gap between the Divine and the human, God’s agenda is to plant a little bit of God, the Holy Spirit, right inside of us! (Jeremiah 31:31-34, John 14:16ff).

"This is the very meaning of the 'new' covenant, and the replacing of our 'heart of stone with a heart of flesh' that Ezekiel promised (36:25-26). Isn’t that wonderful? It is God doing the loving, in and through us, back to God, toward our neighbor and enemy alike, and even toward the sad and broken parts of ourselves." - Adapted from Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, p. 97, by Richard Rohr

Acknowledging our humanness, our doubts and our limitations in the midst of this Divine gift, Fr. Rohr added this prayer:  "...Break through my closed door, O God."


Madonna & child, Eze, France
- note the dove (symbol of the Holy Spirit) at her feet

One of the daily devotionals which I receive via email is called "A Daily Spiritual Seed." (You can find a link to it on my sidebar.) As today is the Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, today's edition of "A Daily Spiritual Seed" contained the following reflection, based upon the Lectionary's Gospel reading (Luke 1:39-56):

"Reflection on the Gospel from http://www.dailyscripture.net/:"
"What is the significance of Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth before the birth of Jesus? When Elizabeth greeted Mary and recognized the Messiah in Mary's womb they were filled with the Holy Spirit and with a joyful anticipation of the fulfilment of God's promise to give a Savior. What a marvelous wonder for God to fill not only Elizabeth's heart with his Holy Spirit but the child in her womb as well. John the Baptist, even before the birth of the Messiah, pointed to his coming and leapt for joy in the womb of his mother as the Holy Spirit revealed to him the presence of the King to be born. The Holy Spirit is God's gift to us to enable us to know and experience the indwelling presence of God and the power of his kingdom. The Holy Spirit is the way in which God reigns within each of us. Do you live in the joy and knowledge of God's indwelling presence with you through his Holy Spirit?" (emphasis added by me)

It's interesting that Elizabeth and Mary, and the unborn baby John, all experienced the power of the Holy Spirit before Jesus was born - before Jesus ever mentioned it, promised it or breathed it upon his friends. Knowing this is so suggests that the Holy Spirit is indeed a gift within each one of us, given by God's grace.

What does this power mean to us?
Why would God give it to each of us?
What is it for - what is its purpose in my life, and in yours?
What kind of power comes with this Spirit?
What are we to do with that Holy gift of love and grace?
What would God want us to do?
How blessed we are to live in a time when the Holy Spirit has been revealed, and how blessed we are to have access to writings and teaching about it. God has told us in so many ways that He loves us, animates us, lives within us (and that we live in Him).

Butterfly with lavender, Senanque Abbey, Gordes, France

"After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed:

'Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. 

For you granted him authority over all people  

that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him...

I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message,

that all of them may be one,  

Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.  

May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 

I have given them the glory that you gave me, 

  that they may be one as we are one 

 —I in them and you in me—

so that they may be brought to complete unity.

Then the world will know that

you sent me  

and have loved them 

  even as you have loved me.' " - John 17

What Was It?

I have been pondering this question for weeks, since attending the Living Proof LIVE event:
in the days when Jesus was on earth, what would make a Jewish person turn aside from centuries of tradition, culture and teaching to embrace the idea that the much longed-for Messiah had actually arrived? What would make them agree that Jesus was the One, and change their lives, being baptised into faith in him? What was so compelling about him, and about his message, that they just knew - or, at least, believed?

And what would make a pagan, an idol-worshiper, a member of the ruling class, not a Jew, turn from idols and believe that Jesus was the One, and that his way was The Way - that, in fact, he himself was The Way, the Truth and the Life? What would re-orient a person's life that much? What did they hear? What did they see, that made it worth turning their lives around, and over to God, through Jesus?

I remember the first time I heard about God; I was about four years old, and a brand-new student in Sunday School. My father had decided that our family needed to start going to church, and my mother agreed, so they took us to the only church he knew: the First Church of Christ, Scientist. On the wall of our Sunday School were the words "GOD IS LOVE," written in gold letters, all capitals. I recall thinking, "Of course!" It was the most natural thing to my four-year old mind; it just made sense.

Though I am no longer a Christian Scientist, I still see Christianity as primarily an experience of LOVE - the love of God - showed to us in various ways, times and places, but totally illustrated in the life of Jesus. Perhaps belief or faith is the gate, but the experience, the message and the only kernel of truth worth taking with me to my grave, whatever happens - is love. What else could cross all cultural, intellectual, emotional, practical, time/space and spiritual boundaries with such a powerful and lasting attraction? Faith, in my experience, is not something that everyone possesses, desires, understands or receives willingly. But love - that's a different thing. Everyone can give love, and everyone desires it.

Perhaps before we can receive faith, move beyond skepticism or even belief, we need to be touched by love. Perhaps love is the activator of dormant faith - faith which exists as potential within us all.

"Jesus said to his disciples:
'I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.
But when he comes, the Spirit of truth,
he will guide you to all truth.
...Everything that the Father has is mine...
the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me
and have come to believe that I came from God.
I came from the Father and have come into the world.
Now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father...
Father, the hour has come...that your son may give eternal life to all you gave him.
Now this is eternal life,
that they should know you, the only true God,
and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ...
I revealed your name to those whom you gave me out of the world...
Now they know that everything you gave me is from you,
because the words you gave to me I have given to them,
and they accepted them and truly understood that I came from you,
and they have believed that you sent me.' " - John 16, 17

Those who didn't hear Jesus himself had an opportunity to hear about him from Paul (previously known as Saul, a former deadly persecuter of those who believed that Jesus was the One). When speaking to the gentiles, Paul showed his understanding of their background, and made a beautiful, clear statement to them in Athens:
" 'You Athenians, I see that in every respect
you are very religious.
For as I walked around looking carefully at your shrines,
I even discovered an altar inscribed, "To an Unknown God."
What therefore you unknowingly worship, I proclaim to you.
The God who made the world and all that is in it,
the Lord of heaven and earth,
does not dwell in sanctuaries made by human hands,
nor is he served by human hands because he needs anything.
Rather it is he who gives to everyone life and breath and everything.
He made from one the whole human race
to dwell on the entire surface of the earth,
and he fixed the ordered seasons and the boundaries of their regions,
so that people might seek God,
even perhaps grope for him and find him,
though indeed he is not far from any one of us.
For "In him we live and move and have our being,"
as even some of your poets have said,
"For we too are his offspring."
Since therefore we are the offspring of God,
we ought not to think that the divinity is like an image
fashioned from gold, silver, or stone by human art and imagination.
God has overlooked the times of ignorance,
but now he demands that all people everywhere repent
because he has established a day on which he will 'judge the world
with justice' through a man he has appointed,
and he has provided confirmation for all
by raising him from the dead.' "    - Acts 17

Paul told them the good news of the love of God, declaring His nature and will, in words that they understood (using their own poetry to illustrate his point). What a bold witness he was!

"The essence of Christianity, and what makes it distinct from...other religions, is the knowledge of God as our Father. Jesus makes it possible for each of us to personally know God as our Father. To see Jesus is to see what God is like. In Jesus we see the perfect love of God – a God who cares intensely and who yearns over men and women, loving them to the point of laying down his life for them upon the Cross. Jesus is the revelation of God – a God who loves us completely, unconditionally and perfectly."  - from http://www.dailyscripture.net

I'm starting to believe that this love is the "good news" that made people, Jews and gentiles alike, turn from what they knew to an entirely new way of living, when they heard Jesus, his disciples and Paul speak. And it is still good news today, and needed as much as ever. I'm not talking about religion, but the Word of Love.

If we could receive that Word afresh, with ears like those hearing His message for the first time, perhaps we would find that Love activates faith. Faith leads to experience. Experience confirms faith, which increases faith, and leads to gratitude, praise and more love.

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  Whoever does not love does not know God,
because God is love.
This is how God showed his love among us:
he sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.
This is love:
not that we loved God,
but that he loved us
and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.
Dear friends, since God so loved us,
we also ought to love one another.
No one has ever seen God;
but if we love one another,
God lives in us
and his love is made complete in us.."   - 1 John 4

This I believe.

False Expectations and the Paschal Mystery

"The only way you can be delivered from that sin is to have your false expectations destroyed, once and for all. And that is precisely what happened between Palm Sunday and Good Friday. Jesus drew the false, sinful expectations of the world unto himself, absorbed them, and bore them on the cross. His death was the death of all of our false expectations, and therefore his death was the death of sin itself. The false piety of Palm Sunday is crucified on Good Friday and buried that night, in order that true faith in God might be created on Easter through the resurrection of Jesus Christ."   - Edwin Peterman

What a thought-provoking statement. What false expectations could he be talking about?

Maybe the ones that assume we won't experience suffering, if we "do life right."
...the ones that assume that, if we are as good as we know how to be, we won't make mistakes.
...that people will love us, if we do our best, with best intentions.
...that our savings will grow, so we will have a "comfortable" retirement.
...that if we pray, we will get what we want.
...that our children will be safe, if we take good care of them and follow the wisdom at hand.
...that if we just lost that last 5 pounds, had that pair of jeans, owned that car, got that job, looked like "her," had that degree, believed the right things, that we would feel better.
...that if we eat right and "take care of ourselves," we won't really have to face death.

From my own experience, there is a huge difference between consenting to BELIEVE the paschal mystery and consenting to EXPERIENCE the paschal mystery. I believed it; I believed that Jesus went through it to show us how much he and God loved us. I did NOT believe that he went through it to show me how to do it...and yet he said, "I Am the Way."

Now, because of what I learned with Katie (and my family) on her cancer journey, I believe that Jesus consented to going through the humiliation, beating, abandonment, the way of the cross and tomb, in love and obedience to God - and out of love for all of us. He took that path in order to show me what I was going to have to do myself...what we will all be called to do, in some way, at some time...To let go of what we think we cannot live without,

and embrace what God, who is Love, is giving us:  Himself.

"Christians speak of the "paschal mystery," the process of loss and renewal that was lived and personified in the death and raising up of Jesus. We can affirm that belief in ritual and song, as we do in the Eucharist. However, until we have lost our foundation and ground, and then experience God upholding us so that we come out even more alive on the other side, the expression "paschal mystery" is little understood and not essentially transformative.

Crucifix, Cinque Terre, Italy

"Paschal mystery is a doctrine that we Christians would probably intellectually* assent to, but it is not yet the very cornerstone of our life philosophy. That is the difference between belief systems and living faith. We move from one to the other only through encounter, surrender, trust and an inner experience of presence and power."  - From Richard Rohr's  Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, p. 62, 63

[*from Karen: I would venture to add that though we might intellectually assent to it, we may not see it as a positive doctrine as we are going through it. We will more likely feel as if we are being asked to die.]

"Faith is a journey into darkness, into not-knowing." ~ Richard Rohr

If God is Love, then that darkness is not a place of fear, but of love.