LENT OUTSIDE THE BOX

 

Here is a reflectiOn I posted on March 8, 2009.

                            (Do you remember it? I don't,)

Lenten Tips from the Catholic Catechism
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, first published in 1992, says practically nothing about the season of Lent. But it includes in the article entitled "The Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation" (par. 1422-1498) a section on "The Many Forms of Penance in Christian Life" which shows the original wider variety of penitential practices I alluded to in my Feb. 23 article on Saint Benedict and the "Forgotten Aspects of Lent." Notice that in the in the following two paragraphs from the Catechism "fasting" comes up only once in each. The other practices almost all have to do with our relationships. Perhaps a look at these excerpts from the Catechism can help us think of some creative ways of making Lent more than just a time for "giving things up," but a time of real conversion.

The interior penance of the Christian can be expressed in many and various ways. Scripture and the Fathers insist above all on three forms, fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, which express conversion in relation to oneself, to God, and to others. Alongside the radical purification brought about by Baptism or martyrdom they cite as means of obtaining forgiveness of sins: effort at reconciliation with one's neighbor, tears of repentance, concern for the salvation of one's neighbor, the intercession of the saints, and the practice of charity "which covers a multitude of sins." (Catechism of the Catholic Church, par. 1434)

The seasons and days of penance in the course of the liturgical year (Lent, and each Friday in memory of the death of the Lord) are intense moments of the Church's penitential practice. These times are particularly appropriate for spiritual exercises, penitential liturgies, pilgrimages as signs of penance, voluntary self-denial such as fasting and almsgiving, and fraternal sharing (charitable and missionary works). (Catechism of the Catholic Church, par. 1438)

Lent: A Call to Conversion
First, notice that the purpose of the traditional forms of penance, fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, is to " express conversion in relation to oneself, to God, and to others." This means that Lent, our season of penance, is for the purpose of conversion. But conversion is not supposed to be a temporary condition, is it? Yet many of us take on Lenten practices as self-contained projects that are designed to last for forty days and then come to an end at Easter. The emphasis on giving up certain things for the forty days distracts us, it seems to me, from the central ongoing Christian project of conversion which is, after all, never finished. In the paragraphs cited above we find other expressions of penance such as "effort at reconciliation with one's neighbor," "concern for the salvation of one's neighbor" and "the practice of charity," which do not lend themselves to the notion of a temporary effort which lasts for only forty days.

These two paragraphs with their emphasis on "conversion" (which means "turning ourselves around") and their constant repetition of the word "neighbor" encourage us to consider Lent more as a time for renewing our life-long commitment to following the Lord along a "Pilgrim Road" that doesn't end at Easter but in heaven.

Your Unique Call to Conversion
Alongside the traditional practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, then, each of us might look at our own life and come up with some unique practices based on such things as "what I'm most grateful for" or "what I'm most passionate about." If I realize that I delight in listening to music, I might express my gratitude (my conversion) by contributing to a charity for the hearing impaired; if I am deeply grateful for my grandchildren, I might express my "practice of charity" this Lent by volunteering to sort baby clothes at a local shelter for pregnant girls. Maybe one of my great joys was a wonderful visit to Yellowstone National Park; so I offer to show my slides at a local senior citizens' home. Maybe there's a certain relative who I just can't stand -- for plenty of good reasons -- so I decide to start to pray hard for him every day.

These practices definitely fall under the definition of "fraternal charity" in the church's traditional list of penitential practices. But in addition, when I come home from the senior citizens' residence my fasting and Lenten devotions will take on a new dimension, one which points me further along the Pilgrim Road of constant conversion well past the end of Lent and toward the eternal Easter where all of us, rich and poor, friends and enemies will be united in the risen Lord's boundless victorious Love.

Reflection:

In the past I've definitely tended to spend my Lent "inside the box;" what about you? Does "Lent outside the box" make sense to you? Or are you more comfortable with the fasting and prayer approach? Have you ever tried some non-traditional, more personalized expression of conversion during Lent?

LENT WITHOUT SANDALS

MOSES IN LENT

The first reading at mass today gave us the story of Moses and the burring bush. Here's a reflection from a few years ago.

The biblical accounts of Moses’ life tell us that it was divided into three periods of forty years (summarized in Acts 7:20-43); rabbinic literature was also fond of meditating on these three periods: forty years in Egypt, forty years in Midian, and forty years serving Israel. So Moses, often depicted as a figure of Christ, becomes a good subject of meditation during our forty days of Lent. I am indebted to Carlo Martini, S.J., (Through Moses to Jesus, Ave Maria Press, 1988, pp 334-34) for many of the following thoughts.

The middle period was spent in the wilderness tending the sheep of his father-in law Jethro. At the end of this period of forty years Moses has his famous vision of the burning bush.

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.’ When the LORD saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ Then he said, ‘Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’ (Ex. 3:1-5)

Moses goes to investigate the burning bush to try to understand it, to put into one or another category of phenomena that he is familiar with. But the voice tells him “Take off your sandals, this is holy ground. You’re not going to approach this mystery on your terms but on mine!”

When was the last time you tried walking barefoot over rocky ground? It’s always a tentative operation, because you never know what’s coming next. Ouch! Martini paraphrases it this way: “Take your sandals off, because you are not going to come to me by enclosing me in your own ideas. You are not the one to integrate me into your personal synthesis. Instead, I want to fit you into my plan.”

AN EARTHQUAKE IN MY POCKET

I once heard someone make this remark about a fellow Christian: “His problem is that he thinks he has God in his pocket.” Having God in your pocket is dangerous business, as the Pharisees found out. They’re a perfect example of it, in fact. The God that they worshiped obeyed all of their laws scrupulously, including their Sabbath regulations! Some Christians have God safely trapped between the covers of their bible, others have God imprisoned securely in the tabernacle. Dangerous stuff!

With God safely in my pocket I quickly run afoul of the initiatives of the Lord, who always wants to fit me into his plan for the world. Maybe this is part of what the old rabbi meant when he said

"God is not nice, God is not your uncle; God is and earthquake."

As I was reflecting on these ideas recently, the father of one of my students died of cancer. If I showed you the faces of our hundred-some sophomores, you could probably pick him out easily. He is numb, devastated, swimming hard to keep his head above the flood waters of grief. He certainly does not have God in his pocket! I pray that he’ll soon come to realized that he is being carried around safe in God’s loving pocket.

THIS IS HOLY GROUND?

Back to Moses. God tells him to remove his sandals “for this is holy ground.” Imagine Moses’ confusion when he heard those words! He’d been living out in this deserted area tending sheep for forty years, this untamed, trackless abode of jackals, a place of desolation and aridity where no one would want to settle down and live. This desert where he had felt so lonely and wretched and frustrated for four decades – is he to believe that this is holy ground? This is God’s presence? This is the place where God reveals himself?

But it has to be that way. Why? Simply because God seeks Moses where Moses is, even if it is a place of desolation, the midbar, a wildermess devoid of all resources. For Moses, precisely this is holy ground! Had God gone looking to encounter Moses in Pharaoh’s court or in Goshen, the encounter would never have happened. God met Moses where he was living and working, where he was feeling sorry for himself and wondering if his life had no more purpose than tending sheep. But because God appeared in the burning bush, Moses’ wilderness became holy ground, the place of encounter.

I’m going to concelebrate the funeral in the abbey church this afternoon for my student’s dad before the body is shipped back to Nigeria for burial. I want to be there for the family, especially for my student, and to pray for them that as they stand there in the wilderness of grief and loss, that they will somehow hear the voice that Moses heard in the wilderness reassuring them: “You are on holy ground!”
Maybe I'll take my shoes off, too.
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CONVERSION TRAIL

This post is the text of a sermon I gave to the students of Saint Benedict's Prep on Ash Wednesday. You should know that well over half of the students had hiked on the Appalachian trail in Sussex County.

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I wonder if you heard the opening words of our first reading from the prophet Joel: “Return to me with all your heart.” That’s a pretty good summary of what this Ash Wednesday service is about. We sometimes use the expression “Be converted back to the Lord.” The word conversion is from the Latin word that means to turn around.

I’d like to tell you a personal story about conversion. It started one afternoon when I was hiking by myself in Stokes State Forest along the dirt road that runs along the bottom of the high mountain ridge that many of you are familiar with because along its crest the AT runs north and south.

I came to the trail that branches off to the left and it led me straight up the side of the mountain. When I finally got to the top I found those familiar white blazes that mark the Appalachian Trail. I planned to follow them back to Culver’s Gap, where I had left my car.

But first I sat down in a little clearing to rest, eat my lunch and read my paperback book. Well, after a while I dozed off. When I woke up, still a little sleepy, I shouldered my knapsack and began following those familiar blazes along the AT.

But before long, things started to get strange. The lake that I expected to see on my left wasn’t there, but there was one on my right instead. I ignored the mysterious surprise and kept on hiking. A little later the valley that should have been on my right appeared on my left. But again I just kept hiking on anyway, knowing that soon I'd be starting the long trek up what we Gray Bees call Jason’s Mountain.  I walked and I walked, and still no mountain. After a while I began feeling uneasy. Something wasn’t right.

Just then, a group of Boy Scouts came hiking toward me with their scout leader. Since they were hiking toward me I asked the leader, “You guys must be coming from Culver’s Gap, right?”

With a puzzled expression he answered, “No, that’s where we’re heading.” 

When the man read the horrified expression on my face he and I both realized at the same time what had happened: I had been walking in the wrong direction the whole time! He asked me, very kindly and matter of factly, “Did you get turned around?” 

Of course that was exactly what had happened. I had still been half asleep when I

stepped onto the trail after lunch, and it was an overcast day, so I couldn’t use the sun to tell which direction I was heading. So I had started out following the blazes, but I was going in the wrong direction. And so for the past hour I had been walking south, away from Culver’s Gap! 

The Scout leader was very kind. Instead of making me feel like an idiot, he nodded knowingly and admitted that that had happened to him once or twice. So I thanked him, and turned around to start retracing my steps, this time in the right direction. 

That’s a story of my conversion. I had to turn around and begin walking in the right direction.  

All of us are on the same journey to the Kingdom of God’s Love. When we’re traveling in the right direction there’s something that feels right: when we’re being kind or generous, or honest or humble or helpful. The landscape looks right -- like it does to a hiker who knows that lake he sees on his left is exactly where it’s supposed to be. 

But unfortunately we sometimes get turned around on our journey to the Kingdom and start doing sch things as putting our individual wants ahead of what the community needs, or being unkind or judging others unfairly. 

Luckily for us, the Lord in his mercy sends us help to let us recognize we’re heading the wrong way. Like that group of scouts who just happened to be coming down the trail toward me. Maybe it’s a few words from a friend, or a line in a song, or a verse of scripture. 

The season of Lent and our Ash Wednesday celebration this afternoon are opportunities for the Lord to ask us, “Hey, did you get turned around?” and for us to answer, “Maybe I need to do an about face and head in the opposite direction!”

So, the ashes you will wear on our forehead today will tell people “I know that I’ve gotten turned around at times, and haven’t lived up to what God had in mind when he created me. But now I’m back heading in the right direction.”

Today we get together and celebrate as a community: because we need God and we need others, fellow sinners, to help us to turn around and convert, to help us to keep heading in the right direction toward the God of love. Remember that Jesus is always walking with us on our journey.  He stays with us and forgives us no matter how many times we start to get turned around. 

Let us ask the Lord to bless us and help us to walk these 40 days of Lent with Jesus as his faithful followers. Wearing ashes as a sign that we’re committed to keep walking the right direction.

WILDERNESS AGAIN

I gave a day of Lenten Reflection yesterday using the following idea. I've used it before, but the response it received yesterdays way made me decide that it is worth revisiting.

Wilderness as a Metaphor 

We all know the story of how, after the tenth plague in Egypt, Pharaoh at last consented to let

the Israelites go into the wilderness to "offer a pilgrim-feast to the Lord." At that point Moses led them on a daring dash for freedom, through the Red Sea and out into the wilderness in what appeared to be a charge into the open jaws of death. In this wilderness there was little water and no food, only hostile tribes and poisonous snakes. 

Midbar

"Wilderness" translates the Hebrew word, midbar, which is sometimes incorrectly translated as "desert."My Hebrew dictionary says that midbar means "tracts of land used for pasturing flocks and herds; uninhabited land." The word conveys the sense of a land that is still wide open space, un-surveyed, unmapped, undomesticated by humans. The wilderness is land that is still relatively free of human control. In Exodus theology the wilderness represented divine presence, lack of human control -- and freedom. 

In sharp contrast to the wilderness stood Egypt, which was very much under human control. In fact, the Egypt of the Pharaohs was famous for its order and neatness. So Egypt represented human rationality, human order -- and slavery. Thus in Israel's tradition the wilderness came to symbolize the unpredictable and unfathomable side of life, the mystery of God. This contrast between Egypt and the wilderness is crucial to a Christian view of troubled times. 

The Wilderness as "God's Country" 

We can use the word "wilderness" to refer to any and all of those difficult times we ourselves

experience, as well as the times when we are experiencing the pain of others second-hand as I have been this past week. To live in the wilderness means living in mystery, where things are beyond my understanding and my control; it is to live in "God's Country." 

There is another important dimension to the wilderness symbolism. In Hebrew thought, history is experienced as linear, not cyclical: it starts with creation and moves relentlessly toward its fulfillment. 

We individuals are born into that flow and are called to shape it by our decisions. We are moving onward with the flow of time toward the future. God gives us the future and we accept it from his hand. When Israel was called out of Egypt, she was also called out of the past and asked to move joyfully and trustingly into God's future. The wilderness, then, was not only a symbol of divine mystery but also a symbol of the future. Each of us is called, like the Israelites, into an unknown future; but if we don't know God's goodness or trust in God's love, we experience the future as a threat. On the other hand, if we trust in God's goodness and love, then the future is transformed from a threat into a promise. The wilderness as the unknown future is in a special sense God's preserve, it is par excellence "God's Country." 

So, if I had to say a word of comfort to any of the people I’ve been praying for, I’d probably say something like this: 

"I see that right now events in your life are completely beyond your control, and the future is unknown and terrifying; you are in the land of darkest mystery. Well, take off your shoes, because you are on holy ground. Welcome to the wilderness -- welcome to God's country! This is where the Lord is expecting to meet you and love you and deliver you." 

Let’s all pray for our brothers and sisters who find themselves victims of every mysterious kind of tragedy around the world, and any people who are right now wandering in a land of fearful mystery. May they experience the reassurance that comes from realizing that the trackless wasteland in which they find themselves is indeed God’s mysterious country, and that God fully intends to meet them there – and probably already has. 

LEARNING FROM CHILDREN

 “Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God likea child will not enter it." (Mk 10:16)

After preaching on this passage from today’s gospel at our community mass this morning, I came to my room and continued reading a book entitled “A time to die.” Written in French, it recounts stories of how monks in eight monasteries in France had faced death. It is, as you would expect, a little somber at times, but the overall thrust is that monks generally see death as simply a transition to the eternal life that they’ve been aiming at during their entire life in the monastery.

This quotation on one Abbot’s coat of arms summarizes his spirituality: “As newborn babes." Because its message is so close to today’s gospel passage, I would like to share an entire long paragraph with you (my translation). The abbot wanted to explain his choice of this bible verse to his brothers.

In a moving text, he describes his vision of the monastic ideal: to become a child. This implies a change, an effort, a true labor. This transformation, however, is the indispensable condition for entering into the family of God, into his sanctuary into the kingdom of heaven, to enter into this game, which is the monastic life. Now, what does spiritual childhood consist of? In one word, it is made of simplicity, of confidence, total abandonment into the hands of God. […] Thus the monastic life is a life made for children. The monastic life is a game, the grand game of love [“charité”]. In a game, you have to respect the rules, that’s just like in the monastic life. The monastic life is a game which is played with God and with those whom the Lord has chosen to bring to the monastery, those that we call our brothers. Truly monastic life is a conspiracy of love.”

The simple message that any Christian can take from blog post is this, to borrow afootnote from the New American Bible, “Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child: i.e., in total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel.”

"Total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel” would seem to be a good message for the beginning of Lent, challenging us to root out all those things that we depend on rather than depending totally on God.

Have a blessed Ash Wednesday and a holy Lent!

WHERE IS GOD?

Heaven Touches Earth 

The gospel passage for Yesterday's feast, the Chair of Saint Peter, included that famous quotation,

 a

“I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven.

Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (Mt 16:19)

As I was reflecting on that gospel passage I was reminded of that idea that I have mentioned in this blog previously: in both Jewish and Christian tradition there is this basic belief that “heaven touches earth.”

For Jews at the time of Christ, heaven touches earth in the Torah and in the Temple.  God is present in both of these in a special way. In addition they see God is acting in history, in such acts as delivering his people from Egypt, or knocking down the walls of Jericho.

For Christians, heaven has touched earth once and for all when God

took on human flesh and dwelt among us. We celebrate that presence as focused in a special way in the sacraments, but also in the idea that Jesus is present in others around us:  “Whatever you do to the least of my brothers you do to me.” 

God Touches Earth 

But it occurred to me this morning that maybe this idea of heaven touching earth is misleading and incomplete when stated this way. I find it more powerful to say instead, “GOD is constantly present on earth and in heaven.”

God is present everywhere, and in everything in creation. In trees and rocks in oceans, and in stars, and of course in each one of us who is created in the image of God. 

To deny that God is present in everything we would have to say that therefore God is not present everywhere in creation, that there are limits to God‘s presence! But a God who has limits cannot possibly be God. There are plenty of passages in the New Testament that point towards the belief that God is indeed present in each of us.

God is in ME!

So I have revised my understanding of the idea that “heaven touches earth“ by saying that “heaven and earth are touching in me,” that is, “God is living in me!” 

Saint Paul even says “It is no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me.” Let the implications of that sink in: I suddenly realize that I have to act as if God is present in me. What does that look like? For an answer me might look at the gospel assigned for today, the Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time:

Jesus said to his disciples:

“To you who hear I say,

love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

To the person who strikes you on one cheek,

offer the other one as well,

and from the person who takes your cloak,

do not withhold even your tunic.

…

love your enemies and do good to them,

and lend expecting nothing back;

then your reward will be great

and you will be children of the Most High,

for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

The whole New Testament is a guide for how we should behave if Christ is living inside of us. When we read or listen to the Scriptures, then, we might want to listen for those passages that are meant to teach us how to behave as if God is present inside of us. Let me end with this example from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount:

"Set no limits on your love, just as your Heavenly Father sets no limits on His love." (Mt. 5:48 Jerusalem Bible Rev. Ed.)

CASTING THE LORD'S NET

APOLOGIES. A week ago our IT department replaced my laptop, but in the process I lost access to my blog. I had already written my post in Google.docs but was unable to post it. So now that all is well again I'm presenting at last the week-old post, Sorry about that! 

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Two main trains of thought have been coming together in my mind over the past few days.

First, on Friday (Feb.7) I attended the funeral of Father James O’Donnell,O.S.B. who was 95 years old. This ceremony was a time for me to reflect on my own death, even though I am only 82. The beautiful homily ended with that lovely Bible verse “Well done, good and faithful servant.“

I did not have long to reflect on the implications of the funeral before the secondmain thought intruded. This time it came from the first reading for today’s (Sunday Feb 9) mass. It ends with the prophet Isaiah saying to the Lord, “Here I am, send me!“ And then the gospel told of Jesus choosing his first apostles and assuring them that they will become “fishers of men.“

Suddenly, my meditations shifted from “Well done, good and faithful servant” to “Here I am, send me.”

Maybe the two verses combine best into this thought of mine: "I believe that the morning the Lord no longer needs me to be his apostle I will wake up dead."

It is actually pretty easy for me to see what the Lord is asking of me right now, how he is expecting me to catch others in the net of his divine love. I live in a community of fourteen monks and spend time every day with the children of our school community (grades K-12). So my question becomes “How does the Lord need me to bear witness to him in these different communities?”  Then this question quickly expands to include my wider community of friends and family. 

I’m called to “catch” all of these and others in the “net” of God’s all-embracing love by my words and actions and attitudes.  

At some point the Lord is going to say to me, I trust, “Well done, good and faithful servant.“ Then I will begin a new phase of my life, during which I will continue in heaven to pray for all of my brother monks, friends and family who will be counting on my intercession.

But until that day, I hope to continue casting my net like a good apostle.