Awareness

It Takes Everyone…

Reading Scripture it’s not too hard to envision the Pharisees and scribes as having a persona of lofty authoritarians who are learned, serious, and on the surface appearing to be so proper. Yet, Jesus points out that their actions do not align with their words. In the Gospel for the Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time, Jesus tells the crowd and the disciples to observe and do as the Pharisees and scribes say, but do not act as they do. Do not hold down or seek to elevate yourself above others. Jesus then goes on to say, “you have but one teacher, and you are all brothers.” You have but one Father, but one master, Christ, and that the greater glory is not in being served or glorifying yourself, but rather in being of service to others, and therefore of service to God.

Reflecting on this Gospel and considering other Scripture passages as well, it may seem obvious that the Pharisees and scribes were not about what they proclaimed. Perhaps they fell victim to the notion that they had already arrived, were afraid of losing what they had attained, or some other thing that shrunk their hearts and made them sterner with others, and lax in their own prayer and practices, making them less likely to be inspired by God and more likely to be misguided and led astray.

Despite this, the actions of the Pharisees and scribes don’t make them worthless or deserving of being canceled. We can hold them accountable but must remember they are still part of God’s creation. They also need love, mercy, and prayers.

Jesus says to observe and listen to what they say. Maybe he’s reminding us that God can still work through them. Their transgressions are not bigger than God.

Praying with this passage brought to mind an instance from grade school, in my 2nd grade classroom, where being orderly was of the utmost importance to the teacher, most especially when it came to the inside of a student’s desk. All the students knew what was expected, and it seemed that all of us really tried to meet this expectation. However, there were a couple of students who had a very hard time with being organized. So, one day, the teacher was walking around the classroom, teaching a lesson, and without warning, flipped and dumped out the contents of this student’s desk, startling everyone, to say the least, and sending books, paper, pencils, and so on, all over the place. The student was then yelled at for being so disorganized, the teacher turned the desk back upright, and told the student to pick everything up, and put it back in the desk, neatly. The student, who was normally quiet, shrunk even more, their cheeks turned red, and tears were coming down their face as they began doing as they were told. The rest of us 7- and 8-year-olds, just sat there horrified. None of us dared to try to help the student for fear of what would happen if we did. It’s interesting how fear can interfere. It’s also interesting how judgment can be too.

When I think about this instance, in the light of this Gospel, I wonder, what was the point, or the lesson being taught that day? What made it so important that the inside of our desks be orderly, to the extent that a student who was trying their best and just being themself, be demeaned like that, and the room be made so disorderly, in efforts to obtain order? However, faith also calls me to hold and look at the entire picture, including before and beyond that instance and to recall that I also had what one would call a lot of positive experiences in that classroom.

Looking at the Pharisees and scribes, Jesus points out a disconnect not only between their words and their actions, but also in their hearts. He cautions the crowd, and us, to not be fooled or distracted toward self-serving ways. To not rely on external things, such as possessions or positions of authority, to gain good graces or a particular outcome, but rather to rely on the grace and guidance of God. Jesus is saying, if we’re going to be led by anybody or anything, or if we’re going to follow anybody or anything, first and foremost, let it be God.

But there’s more… humility.

When we think about this Gospel passage, it can be tempting to cast stones at the Pharisees and the scribes, thinking of ourselves as perhaps being far removed from them, especially in the “us” and “them”, divided times I which we live. Yet, in our certainty and in our knowing, we too can become susceptible to an attitude or posture that interferes and creates static, making us less receptive to being led by God, more likely for other things to come before, or in place of God, and making us less loving, compassionate, and forgiving.

It’s unlikely that the Pharisees and scribes set out to fall into a haze, becoming less aware, open, or able to continue learning through experiences, and blocked, at least at that time, from continually drawing closer to God. However, in certainties and in knowing about what ought to be, it can be easy to become closed off to what is, and the open, honest dialogue that helps us to know when we are moving toward a will that is not in alignment with God, and that is of disservice, rather than what is best.

“Humility is an attitude of honesty with God, oneself, and of all reality. It enables us to be at peace in the presence of our powerlessness and to rest in the forgetfulness of self.” – Thomas Keating

Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying,
“The scribes and the Pharisees
have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.
Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,
but do not follow their example.
For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them.
All their works are performed to be seen.
They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels.
They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues,
greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’
As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’
You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers.
Call no one on earth your father;
you have but one Father in heaven.
Do not be called ‘Master’;
you have but one master, the Christ.
The greatest among you must be your servant.
Whoever exalts himself will be humbled;
but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” – Matthew 23:1-12

The Strength to Get Along…

Taken by the contrasting colors of the leaves against the soothing blue backdrop of the sky, it’s interesting how well they get along.

In the Gospel passage for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, the heart of Jesus’ response can be seen as an invitation to consider love, and how it is revealed through, and in, relationships. Jesus reminds us that being faithful to God is more than striving to love and serve God. It also involves striving to love or to take care of oneself as well as one’s neighbor.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them,
a scholar of the law tested him by asking,
“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
He said to him,
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
The second is like it:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.” – Mt 22:34-40

Reflecting upon the past week, in what ways did you strive to love and serve God? What thoughts and feelings surface as you recall the situations where the love of God was most present to you? Allow yourself to envision God’s response to a heart, your heart, operating in love and service.

Continuing to stay with the moments of the past week, are there ways you took care of yourself through them? Take some time to consider more fully how each experience came about. What might God want you to know about them? How might you pray in response?  

What moments come to mind as ones where the love you have received extended beyond yourself whether in thought or deed?

Still reviewing the past week, who or what would you include as your neighbors (family, community members, any fellow human being, animals, nature, etc.)? What did you appreciate in them? For each way that you might have struggled to appreciate them or that you felt more than a little challenged by them, try to return to naming something you appreciated.

How do you feel inspired by the things that you have contemplated during this time? And what do you desire to carry forward?

I love you, Lord, my strength. – Psalm 18:2

What’s Carried…

From one thing to another
A shade, or some truth survives.
Perhaps hidden from plain view,
But nonetheless existing,
If only to be seen, picked,
From underneath the rubble,
Intertwined and wrapped around,
Trying to conceal or blur,
The hard lines and soft edges,
Leading one to discovery.
Aiming, always aiming high,
To the place where feelings go
To wash away thoughts unkind.
Resting in the heart of One,
Meeting up, then stepping out,
Similar but not the same.
Grateful for Your peace and love,
Amazing, so amazing,
What can happen thru Your eyes.
Though the winds may shift and change,
The soul carries on its way,
Steady in One who remains.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. – Psalm 23:1

Bearing Fruit…

Questions upon questions.
Sitting still, or idly sitting?
With, or at, each other?
Whether picking, picked, or chosen,
The answer is the same.
Apples of God’s eye.
Desire of desires.

Fruit bearing fruit,
Fruit bearing with fruit.
A breath of fresh air,
A dose of patience,
Perseverance too.
From the heart of One
To another, then another.

All searching for some peace,
While time is fast escaping.
All in One, One in all,
History that is shared,
Spirits called together.
Even when far apart,
Destiny is waiting.

It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you. This I command you: love one another. – John 15:16-17

On Schedule…

On a recent trip into the city, memories of daily travel into the office by commuter rail came to mind. In particular, the schedules and the frequency of trains, or lack thereof, depending on what the workday had to offer and when it ended up being time to go home. During that time, there were a number of trains between 4:45pm and around 6:30pm on the line that I needed to take, so if I missed one, I could just hop on the next without much of a wait. However, if I was delayed at work past 6:15, and not able to run fast enough to make it to the platform and onto the 6:30 train before it started pulling out, the wait for the next train was substantial.

Thinking back on those times, I remember running for that last rush hour train and seeing other people do the same, sometimes making it, and sometimes times not. Then there were those occasional times of choosing not to make a mad dash for it, but rather to slow down, letting go of any notion of getting onto the train in those last moments before it pulled away. On those days, it was interesting how the station gradually transformed from being so crowded and noisy to a quieter, more spacious, easy-going place as it moved past the hours known for their rush. It was also easier to appreciate, once foregoing the push to move quickly, hop on, grab a seat, and get outbound.

It seems like a lot of life can be focused on being outbound and moving on to the next thing. Society just keeps pushing for more and more, and with greater speed, seemingly unaware of what is being lost or left behind. This constant hustle often leads to losing sight of what’s personal and meaningful, diminishing the time and patience that allows for potential to be seen and nurtured, and forgetting that “best” is most often brought out in one another by that which is rooted in a higher purpose—that which is mutually beneficial.         

In the First Reading of the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time it is written,

“Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near.” – Isaiah 55:6

In this busy, challenging world in which we live, what’s it like to turn this verse around and to contemplate the Lord seeking you, and calling your name with a desire to draw near to you? Where are the places that you invite or allow the Lord to find you and to be close to you? Where are the places where perhaps you don’t?

In verse 18 of Psalm 145, we read, “The Lord is near to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in truth.” And in the Second Reading, we read part of St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where he relates his desire to be Christ-centered (“Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death.” – Phil 1:20c). For it is in the Lord, and in living out the ways of the Lord, that he not only finds purpose and meaning, but also becomes an extension of God’s grace to others, encouraging them to also strive toward that which is greater than.    

How are you inspired in relationships? Where do you find purpose, meaning, and mutual, generative benefit? In what ways do you desire to deepen your relationship with God, and others?

In the Gospel reading, Jesus shares the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16) where the focus is on the desire and willingness to join in and work in the vineyard, rather than who got there first, who worked the longest, or any other credentials. This passage is a great reminder that with God, it’s never too late, nor too early, patience is abundant, potential is appreciated, and there’s always room for those who desire a place in the vineyard and come willing to do the work. With God, you can’t miss, not just because the time is always right, but also because the schedule is flexible, as well as forgiving.

Jesus told his disciples this parable:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner
who went out at dawn to hire laborers for his vineyard.
After agreeing with them for the usual daily wage,
he sent them into his vineyard.
Going out about nine o’clock,
the landowner saw others standing idle in the marketplace,
and he said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard,
and I will give you what is just.’
So they went off.
And he went out again around noon,
and around three o’clock, and did likewise.
Going out about five o’clock,
the landowner found others standing around, and said to them,
‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’
They answered, ‘Because no one has hired us.’
He said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard.’
When it was evening the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman,
‘Summon the laborers and give them their pay,
beginning with the last and ending with the first.’
When those who had started about five o’clock came,
each received the usual daily wage.
So when the first came, they thought that they would receive more,
but each of them also got the usual wage.
And on receiving it they grumbled against the landowner, saying,
‘These last ones worked only one hour,
and you have made them equal to us,
who bore the day’s burden and the heat.’
He said to one of them in reply,
‘My friend, I am not cheating you.
Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?
Take what is yours and go.
What if I wish to give this last one the same as you?
Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money?
Are you envious because I am generous?’
Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.” – Matthew 20:1-16

Exponentially…

As summer heads toward a close, schools reopen, and traffic picks up in the Northern Hemisphere, time can be more challenging to come by as busyness seeks to prevail. Like “a thief in the night” it can swiftly sneak away the quiet, still moments that seem to come more easily during the days of summer. Yet, despite a likely fuller schedule and a quicker pace all around, peace within remains, patiently waiting to connect… waiting to be heard.  

In the Twenty-third Sunday of Ordinary Time, the Responsorial Psalm is “If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts.” (Psalm 95:8). What does that really mean? While it can be difficult to think of oneself as having a heart that is hardened, maybe there’s another way to consider this.

St. Thomas of Villanova said, “I cannot see without light: yet if I shut my eyes in the midst of the noon-day light, the fault is in me, not in the sun.” Although today’s world tends toward pointing fingers, and finding fault may be tempting, perhaps the key here is in exploring what one sees.

What are the situations and places where one is more prone to looking past what’s in plain sight, readily drawing a conclusion, or closing one’s eyes, rather than opening them wider and acknowledging all there is to see or consider? These are the places that hold an invitation to prayer and discovery. These are the places where a heart might be less open to God (hardened) and God’s ways of love, mercy, compassion, peace, hope, integrity, and more. These are the places where one can grow closer to God, living more fully in a way that encompasses a desire for goodness for all and operates to extend love and the flow of God’s grace.

“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” – Mt 18:20

Out of Bounds…

In the Letter to the Romans, St. Paul writes, “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” (Romans 12:2). Although he was writing to people of a different time than us, how appropriate this instruction or advice is for any age. After all, looking around and considering all of creation, there’s not only a broad spectrum of living things, but also cycles or seasons of change that occur across each category, and all created in the image of the Creator. With all of this, it’s not too hard to imagine God as being far more dynamic than any one generation, society, or age might deem.

Still though, it can be easy to move through a task, a day, or more with “a place for everything and everything in its place” mindset, whether as an individual or within a group or an organization. Perhaps St. Paul is reminding us not to get hung up on making things fit into our existing notions, to the extent that we leave no room to perceive the new things that God is doing or trying to teach us (Is 43:19). After all, how can God reveal to us, even a portion of insight to God’s will or a shimmer of the expanse and depth of God’s love, if one has already made up their mind and is so fixed and unwilling to consider something other?

This is not to say that one should never hold fast to a value or notion, but rather to be cautious of excluding possibilities outside of the ones already recognized or held.

In the Gospel for the Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Jesus says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” (Matthew 16:23). He says this because Peter’s response comes out of his own understanding and is not based on listening to and considering what was said or communicating with Jesus.

When Jesus reveals that he will be killed, it does not fit the narrative of Peter’s notion of what’s to come of the Anointed One. The influence of Peter’s response is not of God. It is rigid, does not consider what the Anointed One has said, and leaves no room for possibilities outside of what Peter “knows”.

Again, looking around and considering all of creation, there is change, there is fluidity. God is not rigid. And, having been created in God’s image, humankind is not meant to be rigid either. To hold fast? Yes, but first and foremost to God. This is so that everything else not only falls into place in a way that is most fitting, but also in a way that is blessed and does not serve to block the flow of God’s grace from extending in ways beyond our own understanding.

Jesus began to show his disciples
that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly
from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,
and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him,
“God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”
He turned and said to Peter,
“Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.
You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

Then Jesus said to his disciples,
“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself,
take up his cross, and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world
and forfeit his life?
Or what can one give in exchange for his life?
For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory,
and then he will repay all according to his conduct.” – Matthew 16:21-27

Stepping Up, Stepping Out…

Having stood next to the falls of Niagara and experiencing with awe the rainbows and mists as well as their thunderous rage, even in a controlled setting, the words of Dr. Seuss, “So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact. And remember that life’s A Great Balancing Act…”, came to mind upon seeing the painting below.

Imagining the amount of focus, control, and awareness crossing the falls step by step on a wire, once again the word “awe” best captures the impression.

Sitting with the readings for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, these same words “focus”, “control”, and “awareness” provide an opportunity for further reflection on relationship with God. In the first reading (Is 56:1, 6-7), we are reminded of what one can control—“Observe what is right, do what is just;” (v. 1)—one’s own actions; what one’s focus ought to be—joining, ministering, loving, serving the Lord (v. 6); and an awareness through which we ought to live—”For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” (v. 7)—striving toward the same kind of faithfulness to love and equity with which God bestows upon us.

In the responsorial Psalm (Ps 67:2-3,5,6,8), the psalmist cries out, “O God, let all the nations praise you!” (v. 4). The verses resonate or echo the desire to live up to and embrace what the Lord has said through the Prophet Isaiah in the first reading. They call for inclusivity and equity among God’s people—all those who observe what is right and do what is just, join, minister, love, and serve.

With the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans, St. Paul reminds us that love and mercy go hand in hand. This is especially important to consider when forming opinions and discerning choices.

Brothers and sisters:
I am speaking to you Gentiles.
Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles,
I glory in my ministry in order to make my race jealous
and thus save some of them.
For if their rejection is the reconciliation of the world,
what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?

For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.
Just as you once disobeyed God
but have now received mercy because of their disobedience,
so they have now disobeyed in order that,
by virtue of the mercy shown to you,
they too may now receive mercy.
For God delivered all to disobedience,
that he might have mercy upon all. –  Rom 11:13-15, 29-32

It is the grace of mercy that calls one to exercise an understanding heart, and the grace of love and mercy together that move one toward what is just.

In the Gospel according to Matthew (Mt 15:21-28), the story of the Canaanite woman, provides an example of the grace of God in response to an authentic desire for what is good and just. The Canaanite woman believes that Jesus can heal her daughter and does not allow the fact that she is not Jewish or that Jesus initially seems to turn her away, to dissuade her from seeking that healing and engaging in dialogue not only to ask for what her faith has led her to believe, but also to ask a question that ends up revealing Jesus ministry as being for all people. The woman and Jesus, like God the Father throughout many Bible passages, show an openness to dialogue, propensity toward flexibility with a fixed focus on love and mercy, self-control through respect and consideration in truly listening to each other, and an awareness that flows from a relationship or interactions where all parties have an authentic desire for what is good and just.

Looking again to the tightrope walker, how do they keep their balance? The one pictured above is holding a pole with both hands and using it to maintain their center of gravity, and therefore their balance. At this time in your life, how are you holding onto God, and God onto you? In what ways is God your center of gravity, helping you to focus, exhibit self-control, and have awareness for what is good and just? In what areas do you need God more as your center of gravity? What are some of the ways in which faith has helped you maintain your balance in terms of living and striving to live in a way that exemplifies mercy and love of God, neighbor, and self?

“Thus understanding and love, that is, the knowledge of and delight in the truth, are, as it were, the two arms of the soul, with which it embraces and comprehends with all the saints the length and breath, the height and depth, that is the eternity, the love, the goodness, and the wisdom of God.” – St. Bernard of Clairvaux

At that time, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon.
And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out,
“Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!
My daughter is tormented by a demon.”
But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.
Jesus’ disciples came and asked him,
“Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us.”
He said in reply,
“I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
But the woman came and did Jesus homage, saying, “Lord, help me.”
He said in reply,
“It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
She said, “Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps
that fall from the table of their masters.”
Then Jesus said to her in reply,
“O woman, great is your faith!
Let it be done for you as you wish.”
And the woman’s daughter was healed from that hour. – Mt 15:21-28

Beloved Moments…

There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to leaning in. Stepping ahead, slowing down, gaining traction, sometimes even resting. Hints here and there—leading, reaching, stretching—all progress in this journey.

There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to letting go. Noticing moments filled with movement; movement filled with moments. Some are silent and others not. Some are focused more than others. A mix of sorts, obstacles slowly falling away, leaving room for air as well as airing.

There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to learning. Exploring ups and downs, reflecting on what’s over, up ahead, or coming around. Changing ever changing, discovering what’s important and tossing what is not.

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John,
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them;
his face shone like the sun
and his clothes became white as light.
And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them,
conversing with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Lord, it is good that we are here.
If you wish, I will make three tents here,
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was still speaking, behold,
a bright cloud cast a shadow over them,
then from the cloud came a voice that said,
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him.”
When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate
and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,
“Rise, and do not be afraid.”
And when the disciples raised their eyes,
they saw no one else but Jesus alone.

As they were coming down from the mountain,
Jesus charged them,
“Do not tell the vision to anyone
until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” – Mt 17:1-9

What’s Inside…

Opening the oven door as the kitchen timer worked its way toward zero seconds, an unanticipated outcome awaited. The bread inside, although cooked through, was not quite what was expected. Shocked at its stature and the rather dense outcome, and wondering what happened, I revisited all that went into its making. First, I envisioned all the steps, and then opened cabinet doors to look again at some of the baking ingredients, but nothing stood out.

Upon thinking some more, and feeling certain that baking powder was added, I thought perhaps it was expired and had lost its potency. Then, there it was. In the process of re-examining, the problem was revealed. It wasn’t baking powder after all that was used. The canister had the same shape, height, color, and text, but rather than containing baking powder, it held cornstarch. And although the bread tasted almost the same as any other banana bread that was made, its consistency and body was not at all the same.

Contemplating the Gospel passage for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Matthew 13:24-43) and reflecting on Jesus’ words as he tells the parables of weeds among wheat, the mustard seed, and the yeast, one is reminded of the importance of what goes into things. Or, in other words, what makes them up or influences them. Are there hidden ingredients? What’s the intent, the source, or motivation, and what, ultimately, is being sought?

So how does one really know what’s what with so much that is conflicting and competing in the midst of what can be confusing and misleading times? How does one distinguish between what things look like and what they really are, and decipher what’s happening around them and how it might be influencing them?

Prior to the Gospel, in this week’s readings, we read:

“The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness;
for we do not know how to pray as we ought,
but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.
And the one who searches hearts
knows what is the intention of the Spirit,
because he intercedes for the holy ones
according to God’s will.”—Romans 8:26-27

To discover what’s real, or what’s true, one must not only be willing to take a good look inside and out, but also be willing to look again, and then some more, searching with a heart that is sincere and an openness to the possibility that what looked like baking powder might not have ever been baking powder at all.