"Feed Me, O Lord!"

“FEED ME, O LORD!”

- a reflection on Psalm 81:11b (NABRE)

- by Deacon Paul Rooney

In one of her reflections (“What Were You Arguing About?”), Heidi so wonderfully pinpointed the key to every single relationship of intimacy—that of taking time to “be with” and to “listen to” the Other.  It triggered many thoughts for me (thank you, Heidi!), especially as they related to the writings of St. John of the Cross (1542-1591).

I would like to share a short meditation with you on Psalm 81:11b, “Open wide your mouth that I may fill it” (NABRE).  Observe this picture of a tiny bit of God’s creation: can you identify yourself on a spiritual level?

It may sound a bit crude, but isn’t it true that sometimes I have to “shut my mouth” so that I can “open my mouth” to be fed?

          St. John of the Cross speaks of the “mouth of the will.”  Perhaps drawing upon St. Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556), St. John teaches that loving God is an operation or action of the will.  If we are dependent upon “good feelings” or consolations that God sometimes sends our way, then our appetites are still controlling us.  We would no longer have a pure love for God, because it is really the “good feelings” we are looking for, rather than God himself.

          The appetite, St. John teaches, is the mouth of the will.  If our appetite is on pleasure or things, then it becomes “narrow.”  On the other hand, if the mouth of our will is “opened only to God Himself, empty and dispossessed of every morsel of appetite,” then God will be able to fill it with His love and sweetness.

          Thus we come full circle.  How can one be “fed” unless he opens the mouth of his heart to the Word of God?  This is an obvious metaphor for taking time to quiet down, and listen to the inspired Holy Scriptures, especially the gospels.  We have God’s promise: if we open wide our mouths, we will indeed be filled! [I am not overlooking other ways that God can "feed" us, such as simply resting in his loving presence.  Those ways are for another day.]

          I pray the Lord to bless you with daily quiet time, a time of holy feeding!

- Deacon Paul Rooney

What Were You Arguing About?

What is the antidote to the blinding whirlwinds of selfish ambition and jealous envy? It is not simply to  reject our ambitions, passions or desires, we must daily submit these desires to the reality that the earthly fulfillment of them is not necessarily the goal.  As C.S.Lewis says in his essay The Weight of Glory  "We are far too easily pleased",  however, we are never deeply satisfied. This Sunday's readings are filled with the consequences of selfish ambition, which may temporarily please us, but in reality will blind us to our real needs.  Which explains Saint James in the second reading where he explains why we do not receive from the Lord what we ask for.  We do not know what we really need.  As I read over the Gospel for this Sunday I was thinking of another C.S. Lewis quote from the same essay. "It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us..."   But how do we strengthen and hone our ambition for this eternal joy, how do we catch sight of our hearts desire?

Mk 9:30-37

"Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it.  He was teaching his disciples and telling them, 'The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.'  But they did not understand the saying and they were afraid to question him.

They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, 'What were you arguing about on the way?'  But they remained silent.  They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest.  Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, 'If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.'  Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them 'whoever receives on child such as this in my name receives me;  and whoever receives me, receives not me but the one who sent me."

Jesus instructs his disciples, they perceive in His words deep mysteries, and profound destinies, but they are afraid to go deeper with Him.  Maybe they are afraid of what Jesus is predicting:  Suffering?  Death?  They do not seem to quite understand what He means by resurrection.  Even so, great ambitions and passions are stirred up.  And, as often happens in our human weakness, these passions are misunderstood, and  misdirected.  Their half-hearted understanding of the unlimited love of God leads them to apply the energy of these great stirrings in their soul to arguing about gaining earthly glory for themselves.  They have missed the higher calling of their Lord. They are following the ambitions in their hearts along a very horizontal trajectory, but Jesus is leading them to the heights of glory, and you cannot get attain that through egotism.  Then, later on in the day when they had come to a place of rest, Jesus asks them "What were you arguing about on the way?"

Right here is the opportunity to depart from the earthbound path.  Do you take a moment each day to allow the Lord to speak to you, convict you and redirect you?   Do you take at least a quiet minute or two for a daily Examen? In the Gospel there is a silence that follows the Lord's question.  This feels to me like an Examen prayer;  the twelve disciples, are not perfect, not always doing things with a deep understanding of themselves or of Christ (they sound a bit like me actually)...but, unlike the wicked men in the first reading, they have the humility stop and listen to Jesus, they have opened their hearts to Him enough to allow the Lord to show them where they are transgressing and where they are violating their training.  

And there is no need to be afraid to deeply examine your motives and your desires with His help, as the disciples originally were.  The Lord will not harshly condemn all of your misdirected passions and desires; He will show you what they are for.  He will purify your vision for things that are eternal, and this will reorder your desires.  He will help you to take your focus off of yourself so you can see the least and the weakest around you and you will bear upon yourself a bit of the weight of their salvation, to weaken your selfish motives - for you can never expect any earthly compensation for this service. And with a purer vision you will see that the initial desire for greatness and glory is an inborn desire to catch the eye of the Beloved and have him smile upon you.  It sounds like such a little thing, so easily overlooked for what appears to be  glitzier and grander achievements in the here and now, and yet it is everything.  But it takes time and a willingness to listen in prayer and attune yourself to the deep stirrings of His Spirit in your soul.

In the end the ambition and desire to be the greatest is not necessarily an evil if you submit your motives to Christ's direction. It is our fallen response to the longing to be approved of and enfolded into the arms of the Father.  The fulfillment of our deepest desire is to be that child wrapped in the arms of Jesus. 

Update

I don't know why, but I really think that this song is a great preparation for anyone who might feel just a little intimidated by allowing Jesus in to direct all the strength and potency of our passions to the fulfillment in the love that awaits you in the arms of Jesus.  Do not be afraid to allow Him to show you where your passions are directing you!  

Peace and Grace!  Heidi

Happy Birthday Mary: Teach Me About Lowliness

Today is the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mary, whose immaculate conception was celebrated 9 months ago, was born on this September day.  And as is the way of the Lord, this monumental day, this wondrous birth went quietly by in time, and still goes quietly by in our lives, we could easily miss it. In fact, we often do miss it.  Yet, this feast day invites us to ponder the woman whose life modeled most fully how to allow the word of the Lord to be conceived in us and born through us, in our own words and deeds.  Insignificance and lowliness are not barriers to these wonders, they are requirements.

Which is good, because  I do not have much to offer. I am a Catholic who fails a lot in living my faith.  I am a wife who fails a lot at being a wife.  I am a mother, who fails a lot with her children (I have two crying, fighting and whining in my presence right now - thankfully they are only mildly annoying me, so I am ignoring them...).  And, in a culture that is pragmatic, cliquey and materialistic, I am a stay-at-home mother of 8 who writes for an insignificant blog because I perceived a call to do it from Him, no money in it, no huge following, no "career" to validate me - nothing.  I am nothing.  And oh, how I have caused myself and others around me much pain in fighting that truth for most of my life.

When I was in high school, it got back to me that an acquaintance of mine had described me as a "cipher"....a nobody.  In her world, I was a quiet and fairly shy girl, who was not friends with her friends and who did not leave a huge impression on her friends.  Since I was not terribly concerned with her opinion of me at that time, I was able to brush off the insult fairly easily...or so I thought.  Because every once in awhile the words would come back to me, whispering to me that I was a cipher, a nobody.  And I would fight that identity with much ferocity!  I would deny it, offer proofs against it, but mostly I would fear it. The label of cipher became heavier and heavier.

 But,  one day I finally heard the words of Our Blessed Mother.  My spiritual ears were opened.

Luke 1:46-56:The Canticle of Mary."My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior.  For he has looked upon his handmaid's lowliness; behold, from now on will all ages call me blessed.  The Mighty One has done great things for me and holy is his name.  His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him.  He has shown might with his arm, dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart.  He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly.  The hungry he has filled with good things; the rich he has sent away empty.  He has helped Israel his servant, remembering his mercy, according to his prose to our father to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Was I to accept that identity that was so thoughtlessly assigned to me? Instantly my spirit rebelled: "I am not a cipher! I am not a nobody, do not let that nasty girl be right!"  The arrogant and prideful aspirations of my heart, which fed upon my fear of nothingness, did not yield easily.  Yet a wave of grace washed over my heart as I thought of the words: "He has shown might with his arm, dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart. He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones; but lifted up the lowly."  My pride was dispersed, I was thrown down, and lifted up. In a moment I was confronted with all that I wanted to be, thought I should be and was failing at, and yet I was given an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Because I was nothing.  I was nothing so that I could be lifted up; there is no other way.

That thoughtless comment of so many years before was instantly transformed, and the weight of it lifted. The Lord needed to show me I am nothing so I can be filled with His love, His Spirit, His life.  So that he can lift me up, out of my mediocrity and into His heart, and I do not have to grasp at earthly honors, or rewards or recognition. Without Jesus I am nothing, without Him I will cling to false egos and identities, and be let down by them, or even worse, I will be blindly self-satisfied! The heavy burden of that word "cipher" gave way to tearful gratitude and awe. In a world where wealth, popularity and honors are seen as indicators of goodness and worthiness Mary has shown me that it is only lowliness, nothingness that can acquire the interior vision and wisdom to give Him our fiat, with complete trust in His compassionate love that will lift us up.

So Happy Birthday Mary, Queen of Heaven, who so gently taught me about lowliness. I still have to submit my fears and insecurities to God, I still have to have Him disperse pride and arrogance with His mighty arm.  But I do not fear the nothingness as I once did, and I have come to see a little how God's kingdom conquers and transforms this world of shallowness and ugliness .  I now look upon that dismissive description of me so long ago through Mary's eyes, without the shame and fear that the world attaches to it  In those words came the might of His arm and revealed the true and eternal beauty of His Mother.

Blessed Be God, and Blessed Be His Most Holy Mother!

Yesterday I attended the funeral of a dear friend who attended Catholic Biblical Studies classes with me.  She had been too elderly to drive herself, so we often went together.  One of her daughters, the eldest, (she had nine children) came up to me after the services and said that her mother had read Scripture to them when they were young, back in the 60's.  I had been touched to be asked to read a passage at her wake, because as I read I felt my friend's love of Scripture speaking through me to her now-grown and grieving children.  Hearing Scripture read reverently can bring comfort and consolation to our spirits.

The Shadows

The SHADOWS

- a reflection on Psalm 23

by Deacon Paul Rooney

[Note: I tend to contribute "reflections" more than scripture studies. -Paul.]

We have all been intrigued and fascinated with “shadows” even before we reached the age of reason.  Surely there does not exist on our planet someone who has not been entertained by shadow puppets?  Probably it is a parent or sibling who first projects a shadow puppet of a rabbit or dog onto the wall for the entertainment of an infant or young child.  It is now quite an art, with websites devoted to showing everyone how to create these shadowy characters.

But sometimes shadows can be scary, depending upon one’s imagination.  I vividly remember my brothers and sisters telling ghost stories, and there was almost always a shadow involved in the story, with the obvious purpose of increasing suspense and scaring us.  I have another memory: I saw a really harmless movie (I think it was called “Tugboat Annie”) when I was maybe eight years old.  Annie punched someone out of exasperation, and that violence scared me.  So I told a fib to the sibling sitting next to me, saying that I had a stomach ache; then I got up and left the little rural theatre and walked home.  It was a very scary walk, with rustling autumn leaves, bats flying under the street lights, the inevitable hoot owl, and of course, lots of dark and spooky shadows.  Even my own shadow scared me once.  That four-block walk was the longest walk of my life!  (Mom made me take something for my “stomach ache,” the price I had to pay to avoid admitting the real reason I came home early.)

But there two, very special shadows that I want to mention, and they are related.  The beautiful PSALM 23 mentions one of them: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (v. 4a; NABRE; RSV).  Have you ever stopped to consider who was casting that shadow?  The psalmist knows.  It is light that causes shadows.  It is God who created the sun to give light to enable shadows to fall.  In fact, God is light, and speaking metaphorically, Jesus is the light of the world.  Thus the psalmist can pray trustingly, “I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”  Every shadow has a source.  We do not fear death, because we trust in the Divine Mercy and we believe in His constant presence within us.

Let’s look at one more special shadow.  First, make the sign of the cross (†).  Did you notice that ever time that you make this gesture, you create a shadow?  Usually there is a light in front of us or above us, and as we trace the cross of Christ, a shadow appears.  What is the connection with this shadow, to the one mentioned in Psalm 23?  Well, the sign of the cross always reminds us of the victory of Christ over death, of God’s redemptive presence to us.  It should remove all fear from us.  In Psalm 23, the psalmist is fearless, even in the valley of the shadow of death, because he is focused and aware of God’s presence.

Our word "dependent" has a root meaning of "to hang down" (Webster's New World dictionary).  The crucifix is the ultimate manifestation of the ultimate dependency: Jesus depending upon his Father during his entire life, especially as he hung upon his cross.  There is a lesson there for you and me!

Did you know that the Church has blessed us by providing an indulgence (to remit temporal punishment due to sin, and to arouse in us a spirit of love), under the usual conditions, when we lovingly make this sign of the cross?  When we sign ourselves, we cast the shadow of the cross upon us, one might say, and that action has a deeper implication if our intentions are recollected.  We are telling our Lord and Redeemer that we accept any and all crosses that come to us, and we are joining our crosses to His for whatever redemptive value it may have for others (see Col 1:24).⁽¹⁾

This is part of what the “spirituality of the cross” is all about.  As the Crozier Fathers (and others) express it so beautifully, in the cross there is hope and healing, not just pain and suffering.  Thus the cross is really the shadow of life, not just a shadow of death.  We must embrace it fearlessly, just like the psalmist; we must accept it obediently, just like Jesus.

We adore you O Christ and we bless You, because by Your holy cross You have redeemed the world!  Jesus, we join our Blessed Mother and stand in the shadow of Your cross on Calvary, and worship You!   The shadow of Your cross is the shadow of life, the sign of our salvation!  Alleluia!

*   *   *

⁽¹⁾ Not to be patronizing, I simply want to make sure that we do not lose the grace of the moment.  Just “how” do we join our crosses to Christ for any redemptive value?  Simply verbalize and mean what you say: “Dear Jesus, I join my cross [name it; e.g., my headache, my exasperation with my rebellious kid, my cancer, my job worry, etc.] to your cross, for whatever redemptive value it may have for others.”  It is that simple.  – Paul.

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Some Thoughts on the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil

            "The Lord God then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it. The Lord God gave man this order: "You are free to eat from any of the trees of the garden, except the tree of knowledge of good and bad. From that tree you shall not eat, the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die." (Gen.2:15-17)

             "In Gibeon, the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream at night. God said, "Ask something of me and I will give it to you"...Solomon answered..."Give your servant...an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong. For who is able to govern this vast people of yours?"

             The Lord was pleased that Solomon made this request." (1Kings 3: 5,9-10)

             Rabbi Joseph Telushkin states that traditional Jewish Theology teaches that the meaning of the creation of people in God's image is precisely that they resemble him in being able to distinguish good from evil. (Biblical Literacy: p.8) Then why does God prohibit Adam from acquiring this knowledge, and is so pleased when Solomon asks for it?

             In Solomon's case, God knew that this knowledge, this ability to be a judge for his people was necessary for his role as king. He also asked for an "understanding heart", or, wisdom. And that is why God gave him so much more than he asked for. Jesus will later speak similarly when he tells his disciples that the Father knows what they need, but to "...seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you besides." (Mt.6:33)

             So why deny this knowledge to Adam? It doesn't sound like a sin.What would happen if we all knew good from bad? The answer to that is right in front of us. It creates the very judgmental mind that Jesus  would warn us about: "Stop judging that you may not be judged...Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?...You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother's eye." (Mt.7: 1,3,5)

             We lead off with our judgments. We make moral judgments on everything, and we're convinced that we are right, and "they" are wrong. Franciscan Father Richard Rohr, wrote concerning God's attempt to keep Adam from eating the forbidden fruit, "I guess God knew that such would be the direction [we] would take. So God said, "Don't do it. Don't eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil." What he's trying to keep us from is a lust for certainty, an undue need for explanation resolution and answers. Frankly, it makes Biblical faith impossible." (Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality p.38)

              A judgmental mind never begins with love. A judgmental mind, as we see over and over, leads to divisiveness and violence against those who do not agree with us. A judgmental mind does not lead to a transcendent heart, and it is only with a transcendent heart that we will encounter the Risen Christ.

              Finally, I'd like to look at a familiar parable in a different way. We all know the story of the Good Samaritan.(Lk 10: 29-37). The young man asks Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?", then after the parable, responds himself, " The one who treated him with mercy." It's pretty clear cut that within this context anyone in need, is our neighbor. But I'd like to suggest something.

               Many Bible scholars now believe that the young man's question was a later addition to the gospel.
If the young man is part of the original story, why wouldn't Jesus have made a Jewish layman the one who shows mercy to an injured Samaritan? After all, Jesus is Jewish, speaking to Jews in a Jewish setting. So Jesus is saying that Jews must show mercy to even those they hate. Basically, everyone is our neighbor. But doesn't making the Samaritan the good guy, change the story? I believe it does.Isn't it possible that this parable is more about judging others, than who our neighbor is? A priest and a Levite, both respected and honored men of the community, leave their fellow Israelite to die. But their enemy, a Samaritan, someone they consider no better than a dog, whom they avoid like lepers, is the one who shows care, mercy and love to a Jew. Could they be wrong about Samaritans?

                 We were warned about this original sin from the very beginning. God told us we would die if we ate the forbidden fruit. But He sent us His Son to give us back our life in Him. I pray for the humility to live in the Mystery, to abide in faith and in complete surrender, to the One in whom I hope to live, now and forever.

Get Outta Dodge!

GET OUTTA DODGE!

- a reflection on John 12:24-26

by Deacon Paul Rooney

I have an unfortunate history of hospital stays, as well as an unresolved medical problem.  Yesterday (August 9), three related medical issues coincided at one time, and affected my spiritual journey.

I was waiting in my vascular surgeon’s office, biding my waiting time (1-½ hours) by reading about St. (Padre) Pio.  St. Pio had advised a woman in one of his letters that a cure for her medical problem “would not be for God’s glory,” and therefore he “cannot demand from the divine heart” that He heal her.  I pondered how sad the woman might have felt, because God always answered Pio’s intercessory prayers.  Then I felt compassion for the woman in pain, because memories of my own heavy-duty pain on an earlier hospital stay this year were still vivid in my imagination.  At that point the surgeon walked into the room.  He told me that my abdominal aortic aneurysm, which had been diagnosed a couple of years ago, was continuing to grow at a faster pace, and that an operation was inevitable (probably in two years).

Those three issues—the thought of no intercessory healing, my pain memories, and my future surgery—came together for me during my scripture meditation this morning on today’s gospel, John 12:24-26. This gospel pericope is chosen by the Church for use during Lent, and also on the Feast of St. Lawrence, deacon and martyr (which is today, as I write this).  It speaks of the absolute need for the grain of wheat to die before it can bear fruit.  Jesus immediately linked this seed-parable with the parable of hating your life in order to keep it for eternity.

What does it mean to “hate your life” in order to save it?  My meditation took me to the history of the Hebrews.  They had to get out of Egypt and experience the desert, trusting entirely in God.  That reminded me of the old Gunsmoke series that began in 1952 on the radio (TV in 1955).  It was the origin of the idiom or phrase “get outta Dodge” – a warning from the sheriff to the villains to leave town quickly or face imprisonment, possible death, or both.

Using it as a metaphor, the phrase takes on spiritual meaning when we look at our spiritual radar and see what ought to cause us to leave a dangerous environment with all haste.  The sad news is that some folks decide to stay in Egypt.  We all know someone like that: an older teen or young adult, for example, who chooses to remain in the Egypt of an immoral relationship.  They claim their independence to think for themselves, but actually avoid venturing into the desert of reality where they must die to Self in order to find their true God-image.  They “remain in Dodge,” blinded by their invincible ignorance to the perilous situation they have chosen.

Well, I also remained “in Egypt,” or “in Dodge” for a while yesterday.  When I got home from the surgeon and reflected on those three medical issues above, I slipped into a time of desolation, and I allowed them to shift my focus from God to Self.  I even changed a recent decision about fasting from ice cream for a month, rationalizing that my self-pity party demanded some comfort food.  Oh, how fast we forget!  Those of you who know Ignatian Rules of Discernment will remember Rule 5 – never to change a decision during a time of desolation.  It took a few hours to remember that, and then to “get outta Dodge,” away from my pity party.  Then I was able to shift from “myself in desolation” to a position of “myself-reflecting-on-myself-in-desolation.”  I was enabled to get outta Dodge.

The metaphor to “hate” or “save” our life means we must die to a life of selfishness, the natural tendency to make the Self the center of our lives.  Instead, we must “die” to that life—in effect, we “get outta Dodge,” a self-centered life.  We choose to surrender our true inner core, our true self, to Jesus.  We desire that HE be the center of our life; we desire that our will accord with His will, and we trusting pray that he will transform us into his image.

There is a true sense of freedom and peace that comes when we truly surrender our situations, our flesh pots of Egypt, to the Lord.  I am a witness to that fact.  The Lord is Good!

Now and Forever!