Believing

More than a recipe…

I did not learn to make hummus, with just the “right” amount of fresh garlic, salt, and lemon juice by eating it, reading a recipe, or watching my mother make it over, and over again. Rather, I learned by taking what I saw, remembering what I had tasted, and trying to make it myself, over, and over again. After all, the most helpful way to learn is by ongoing, active observance, repetition, participation, reflection, and openness to growth.

While experience is key, it is interesting that oftentimes as experience increases, awareness to room for improvement can lessen, or even disappear. With that, it may be more than tempting to take moments and situations for granted, rote, or with a “nothing new here” spirit. However, even the process of washing, rinsing, and repeating, holds newness and opportunity with each turn.

In the Gospel according to John, a week later, when the disciples were still locked in the room, Jesus appeared again (Jn 20:26). What was it like for the disciples who had seen the risen Jesus the first time he had appeared? Was it just a been there, done that, repeat for them, or were they able to experience the second appearance in a new or deeper way?

What was the attitude in the room? Were the disciples who had previously seen Jesus able to receive this visitation as being as much for them as it was for Thomas? To whom was Jesus speaking when he said to Thomas, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?”

In the Gospel according to Mark, chapter 16, verse 11, it is written that when Mary Magdalene told the disciples that the risen Jesus had appeared to her outside the tomb, they did not believe without seeing either. Did the disciples remember this, when Thomas said, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”(Jn 20:27)?

What did Thomas think, when Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” (John 20:29)? What did he feel? Perhaps, he felt bad that he did not believe what he had been told by the other disciples. Or, perhaps Thomas felt joy that Jesus heard his need, and responded to it, allowing him to experience the risen Jesus himself.

After all, whether making hummus , dealing with faith, or anything else for which there may be “recipes” or popular thought, there is always more than what is on the page, for “Experience is the teacher of all things” (attributed to Julius Ceasar).

In all times, but most especially in those that are challenging, we must consider experience, both our own and that of others. What has it been like? Do we remember the times and places where we have doubted, questioned, or disagreed, and, do we extend the same courtesy, patience, peace, and understanding that Jesus extends to us, to others?

On the evening of that first day of the week,
when the doors were locked, where the disciples were,
for fear of the Jews,
Jesus came and stood in their midst
and said to them, “Peace be with you.”
When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.
The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.
As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them,
“Receive the Holy Spirit.
Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them,
and whose sins you retain are retained.”
Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,
was not with them when Jesus came.
So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he said to them,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands
and put my finger into the nailmarks
and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.”
Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands,
and bring your hand and put it into my side,
and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples
that are not written in this book.
But these are written that you may come to believe
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,
and that through this belief you may have life in his name. – John 20:19-31

What Would You Believe?

Believe it or not, it seems easier to believe that which is tangible. Thus, the saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it!” Yet, in reality, what one believes actually comes from within. Belief is born out of that which echoes the perceived experience of one’s heart and mind.

As perception changes, the things that resonate and to which one is receptive change too. As a result, internally, one is moved to also change, hopefully for the better. Thus the words of Maya Angelou, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

This is really what human nature is all about—we are created to continually evolve—called to conversion each and every day. It is important to remember that when it comes to love, and what is truly good, honorable, and just, there is always room for growth! How much? That’s up to the individual—again it comes back to perception.

During Lent and throughout the year, the practicing, and living out, of what one believes, can, and often does, take so many forms. After all, faith is living… breathing… active. It is not intended to be stale, or fixed in place or time, but to be celebrated with body, heart, and mind. Not to be carried along, but to carry us through and to broaden the depth with which we see God, ourselves, and other, as one.

Seek, and you will find what brings you closer. It’s not about “should” or “if,” but rather what is. The journey is yours and God’s together. Trust, and you will discover.

Jesus came to a town of Samaria called Sychar,
near the plot of land that Jacob had given to his son Joseph.
Jacob’s well was there.
Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down there at the well.
It was about noon.

A woman of Samaria came to draw water.
Jesus said to her,
“Give me a drink.”
His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.
The Samaritan woman said to him,
“How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?”
—For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans.—
Jesus answered and said to her,
“If you knew the gift of God
and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink, ‘
you would have asked him
and he would have given you living water.”
The woman said to him,
“Sir, you do not even have a bucket and the cistern is deep;
where then can you get this living water?
Are you greater than our father Jacob,
who gave us this cistern and drank from it himself
with his children and his flocks?”
Jesus answered and said to her,
“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again;
but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst;
the water I shall give will become in him
a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
The woman said to him,
“Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty
or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

Jesus said to her,
“Go call your husband and come back.”
The woman answered and said to him,
“I do not have a husband.”
Jesus answered her,
“You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’
For you have had five husbands,
and the one you have now is not your husband.
What you have said is true.”
The woman said to him,
“Sir, I can see that you are a prophet.
Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain;
but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”
Jesus said to her,
“Believe me, woman, the hour is coming
when you will worship the Father
neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.
You people worship what you do not understand;
we worship what we understand,
because salvation is from the Jews.
But the hour is coming, and is now here,
when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth;
and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him.
God is Spirit, and those who worship him
must worship in Spirit and truth.”
The woman said to him,
“I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Christ;
when he comes, he will tell us everything.”
Jesus said to her,
“I am he, the one speaking with you.”

At that moment his disciples returned,
and were amazed that he was talking with a woman,
but still no one said, “What are you looking for?”
or “Why are you talking with her?”
The woman left her water jar
and went into the town and said to the people,
“Come see a man who told me everything I have done.
Could he possibly be the Christ?”
They went out of the town and came to him.
Meanwhile, the disciples urged him, “Rabbi, eat.”
But he said to them,
“I have food to eat of which you do not know.”
So the disciples said to one another,
“Could someone have brought him something to eat?”
Jesus said to them,
“My food is to do the will of the one who sent me
and to finish his work.
Do you not say, ‘In four months the harvest will be here’?
I tell you, look up and see the fields ripe for the harvest.
The reaper is already receiving payment
and gathering crops for eternal life,
so that the sower and reaper can rejoice together.
For here the saying is verified that ‘One sows and another reaps.’
I sent you to reap what you have not worked for;
others have done the work,
and you are sharing the fruits of their work.”

Many of the Samaritans of that town began to believe in him
because of the word of the woman who testified,
“He told me everything I have done.”
When the Samaritans came to him,
they invited him to stay with them;
and he stayed there two days.
Many more began to believe in him because of his word,
and they said to the woman,
“We no longer believe because of your word;
for we have heard for ourselves,
and we know that this is truly the savior of the world.” – John 4:5-42

Shaken and Stirred…

One evening, a long time ago, as a teenager, I was travelling by car with a few friends, when the driver had to jam on the brakes, to avoid an accident. Prior to that moment, there was lots of chatter going on as we drove. However, as the car swerved to stay on the road, narrowly missed a sign that had been to the right of the car, but was now on the left side, and finally screeched to a halt, the noise ceased. In those seconds, it was as if we had shifted into slow motion and were transported into a vacuum, void of all sound. Hearts pounding, we just sat there, recognizing the potential disaster we had escaped. Then, after catching our breaths, we drove on, continuing in silence all the way home. None of us spoke about what had happened.

Throughout life, sometimes events can suddenly thunder into presence of mind, body, and soul. They can do so in such a powerful way that all that is left behind is silence. In chapter 9 of the Gospel according to Mark, the Transfiguration of Jesus is described as both an awesome and frightening experience for the apostles, Peter, James, and John. What transpired, was completely unexpected. In verse 6, Jesus is described as somewhat speechless in terms of how to respond to his companions—“He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.”

Clearly, this event shook the apostles; stopping them in their tracks, and reshaping the manner in which they would receive and respond to what was to come, whether consciously or subconsciously. While it seems fitting that the occurrence would happen on a mountain top, what happened would have been a life altering experience, regardless of where it took place or how it was understood at the time. In the Transfiguration of Jesus, eyes were wide open and seeds were firmly planted.

Oftentimes, the Divine is overlooked, dismissed, forgotten, or left behind simply because it’s easier, more convenient, or perhaps preferred, to believe and hold onto experiences that happen where and how one might expect them to occur. Yet, God is not deterred. On that evening so long ago, I remember being shaken and stirred. I also remember the deafening silence all the way home. And in that, the memory etched… to return, here and there. Only with time, and a lot of it, could I see that God was with us that night.

How patient God is! A reminder of the opportunity that openness to the wisdom of each moment, whether it is here and now, in the past, or yet to come, brings. No matter the locale or the emotions an experience evokes, God is with us, with a desire to take hold, to call us forward, and to help us remember as we do, the wisdom that is all around us.   

Jesus took Peter, James, and John
and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them,
and his clothes became dazzling white,
such as no fuller on earth could bleach them.
Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses,
and they were conversing with Jesus.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Rabbi, it is good that we are here!
Let us make three tents:
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.
Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;
from the cloud came a voice,
“This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.”
Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone
but Jesus alone with them.

As they were coming down from the mountain,
he charged them not to relate what they had seen to anyone,
except when the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
So they kept the matter to themselves,
questioning what rising from the dead meant. – Mk 9:2-10

Hope is a prayer…

In saying goodbye to 2020, it can be all too easy to envision the year packed away, stuffed in a trunk or case with the words “CAUTION! DO NOT OPEN!” stamped in bold, red print across the top and sides. Yet, like all the years before it, 2020, along with any wisdom it contained, is added to the steps along the way. Now, and always, it is part of who we are and who we will become.   

Entering into the year 2021, the journey continues. Like years gone by, it is step by step into all that is known and, at the same time, into all that is unknown. This New Year begins with a solemn tone. There is sadness over the depth of loss, vast… across many areas, and experienced by so many around the world. There is gratitude for blessings… Love expressed by thoughtful, caring words and actions of so many hearts around the world. Then, there is hope, summoning its all, rising up from the memories it strings together, and bringing unity as it strengthens and fortifies the soul for all that lies ahead.  

May this New Year be anchored, like no other, in the hope that is God,
and may each and every soul join together and live as they truly are… beloved.

We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage. – Mt 2:2

Solemn Times…

Today is November 21, 2020. It is the 326th day of the year and by day’s end we will be 88.8% of the way toward 2021. For now though, we’re stuck, so to speak, in a leap year. And boy, what a leap it has been!

Looking at the happenings around the world, it seems as if gravity has lost its grip. Collisions are abound! And often with it, sensibility and all that used to be reliable in at least some way, has all but disappeared. These days, unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic is raging, but also unfortunately, it is not the only thing raging.

At a time when it can be easy to become bogged down by all that seems wrong in the world, where I live, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving this coming Thursday. However, prior to that, tomorrow is the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.

How different the world could be, if He were all the rage!  

Imagine, words and actions that go beyond the current “rule” of one. Imagine, words and actions that are all about the One, and only One—God.

Thankfully, we literally have the best example ever. So in these strange days that seem to keep getting stranger, look to the Word that is timeless. Look and see the Good Shepherd, the One who not only makes claims, but also backs them up, and simply shows us, one and all, the Way.   

When we focus on doing the good we can do, the world, no matter how chaotic it may seem, becomes a better, brighter place, one person at a time.

Jesus said to his disciples:
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory,
and all the angels with him,
he will sit upon his glorious throne,
and all the nations will be assembled before him.
And he will separate them one from another,
as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.
He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Then the king will say to those on his right,
‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father.
Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.
For I was hungry and you gave me food,
I was thirsty and you gave me drink,
a stranger and you welcomed me,
naked and you clothed me,
ill and you cared for me,
in prison and you visited me.’
Then the righteous will answer him and say,
‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you drink?
When did we see you a stranger and welcome you,
or naked and clothe you?
When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’
And the king will say to them in reply,
‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did
for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.’
Then he will say to those on his left,
‘Depart from me, you accursed,
into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.
For I was hungry and you gave me no food,
I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
a stranger and you gave me no welcome,
naked and you gave me no clothing,
ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’
Then they will answer and say,
‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty
or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison,
and not minister to your needs?’
He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you,
what you did not do for one of these least ones,
you did not do for me.’
And these will go off to eternal punishment,
but the righteous to eternal life.” – Matthew 25:31-46    

In the Leaves…

On a beautiful November day, unexpected warmth saturates the air alongside the noise of rustling leaves, as they are gathered and removed from around the yard. While it is far more idyllic to sit in a much quieter way, with an image… a nearby scene that captures fall inching its way to winter, there is work to be done. 

Taking a breath and looking at the leaves, they spread across the lawn, front, side, and back. Another breath, then, at last, the process begins a mess. Making something out of what appears to be nothing or perhaps better said, gathering what is separate and bringing it together. What starts as commotion with each swing of the rake, gradually, slowly turns around. Still leaves… still motion… but nestled now in the stillness of devotion.

A great reminder, the dreams for which one hopes do not fade away. Though the pursuit of them may be on pause, it is often in our patient seeking, Wisdom makes her way, work increases, and True desires deepen.

“Respect your ideals. Dare to dream, but be not an idle dreamer.
Dare to do what you dream. Search your heart to know what you most desire to do; then do it, for you can become, by your perseverance, what you long to be.” – Samuel Silas Curry

Awash…

As each wave comes ashore, along the way it covers all that is lower lying. Sometimes stacking up, it covers higher ground too. Then as it recedes, it pulls back toward the ocean all that is loose or unanchored, leaving a murky mixture of unsettled sand and water behind.

The movement is constant, the intensity waxing and waning, turning motion into commotion at times. Yet, standing in the water, witnessing and experiencing the ebb and flow, toes, then feet and more, under water, swaying… sometimes shifting for better footing, sometimes falling over, but ultimately finding the way, and keeping balance amid conditions of low visibility.  So much like the days we are in, so much tossed about, up in the air, or sinking.

Still though, in between the waves, and even within, there is Hope. There are always moments of clarity where despite murky water all around, the anchor, tried and true, still holds, and the floor of sand with its assorted pebbles, rocks, and shells can be seen. For water that moves always comes clean. Always, always, refreshing the soul… renewing the heart.

May God enlighten the eyes of our hearts,
that we may know what is the hope
that belongs to our call. – Ephesians 1:18

Awash

Leaning into Peace…

A couple of years ago, I came across this large rock while at a retreat house.

Peace

While the word “Peace” is noticeably engraved toward the top of the stone, not so easily seen are the words engraved toward the bottom left side of it. “In verdant pastures He gives one rest.” These words are reminiscent of Psalm 23, which begins, “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.”

At first glance the rock appears to suggest that peace is an uphill battle. However, despite the fact that it may seem that way, both on this rock and at times in life, perhaps more than anything, it is an invitation. One must remember that Peace is not a destination, but rather a companion on the journey.

As we climb the mountain, the Lord is by our side, solid like a rock, firmly in place, and the peace we find depends upon all that we hold in our hearts and to Whom we lean into, as well as in Whom we rest.

The Lord is my shepherd;
there is nothing I lack.
In green pastures he makes me lie down;
to still waters he leads me;
he restores my soul.
He guides me along right paths
for the sake of his name.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff comfort me.
You set a table before me
in front of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Indeed, goodness and mercy will pursue me
all the days of my life;
I will dwell in the house of the Lord
for endless days. – Psalm 23    

To the Limit…

Under the best of circumstances there are moments that can stretch one to what feels like the end of the line or heading into an abyss. Over the past several months enduring all that has come with the COVID-19 pandemic, on top of the more typical challenges of life, has added entirely new layers to our existence. In many ways, one might say that we are often being pushed to our limits.

When the prophet, Elijah, stepped out from the safety of the cave, he did so trusting the voice of God that called upon him to do so. Prior to reaching Horeb and the cave within it, Elijah, his life in danger for being a vessel of Truth, had fled Samaria and was “on the run” for 40 days and nights. In the First Book of Kings, chapter 19, verse 4, when he says, “Enough, Lord! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” it certainly seems he has reached his breaking point or been pushed to the brink of what he can tolerate.

However, it is exactly at this point, that Elijah finds respite, laying down, or taking a break. What looks like the end, as is often the case, becomes a new or different beginning, a new leg of the journey. After some sleep, a messenger of the Lord wakes Elijah up and prompts him to eat and drink, and then keep moving on. Under the direction of God, eventually, he arrives at the place, another place, where he meets God once again.

This many thousands of years later, trying as well as unimaginable days still exist, and they are experienced by one and all, in various ways, across the world…across the universe. Yet, at the very same time, there is God, in the urgent fleeing of Elijah, the messenger along the way, in each and every step toward the mountain and into the cave. There is God, constant… continuing presence, through great winds, the quaking of the earth, and in the burning of the fire.

And, also, there is God in the whisperings of the day, beckoning to all who might listen… endless opportunities to recognize, and face, the limits of our patience or understanding. There are so many ways to discover the essence of who we are called to be, and to seek the courage to stand up, come forward to the entrance of the cave, and be true to the Vision.

ToTheLimit

At the mountain of God, Horeb,
Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter.
Then the LORD said to him,
“Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD;
the LORD will be passing by.”
A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains
and crushing rocks before the LORD—
but the LORD was not in the wind.
After the wind there was an earthquake—
but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake there was fire—
but the LORD was not in the fire.
After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound.
When he heard this,
Elijah hid his face in his cloak
and went and stood at the entrance of the cave. – 1 Kings 19:9A, 11-13A

Reach…

The rays of light poured forth from the sun, extending toward the sea before carrying on and making their way across the water. Then from there, onto the shore, absorbing all in its path, catching passersby, and filling with gratitude, awe and inspiration, each willing soul along the way.

Sometimes getting from one side to the other is easier said than done. Today I found myself thinking about a day, a number of years ago, that I had to fly out of state to do a training session. It had been a productive day, moving right along with no hitches, but still it was a long day and at the end, I could not wait to be home again. However, the return trip was unexpectedly delayed. I remember checking in and boarding the flight, and feeling relieved as the plane began to depart from the gate. I was thinking that soon we would be in the air and less than a couple of hours later reaching the destination. All was good.

Continuing on, we began to move forward, and we kept moving, but without picking up speed. Then, the plane came to a halt, and remained halted on the tarmac for a number of hours. All passengers confined to their seats, I remember feeling more than a little upset as the time standing there, still, grew longer and longer.

Feeling so stuck, it was hard not to wonder, why? Why did the plane pull away from the gate, leaving one and all stranded, with nowhere to go? What is going on? Why are we waiting here? How long will it be?

Eventually, a far time from departing from the gate, the plane was able to take off. I found myself feeling so thankful along the way, upon landing and deplaning, and even more grateful, upon arriving home and climbing into my bed that late night/early morning. Thinking back on that trip, I remember at first feeling defeated in those long moments of waiting. The situation at hand invasive, threatening to wash away the prior, more pleasant happenings of the day. Then, as the time passed, sifting through various thoughts and feelings, somewhere in between, I remember letting go and arriving at a different destination—peace. All was good.

Back then, I did not understand. Since then, I have come to see. The tarmac, what seemed an empty wasteland, the place of being stuck or just waiting and waiting, held the same peace I was longing for at home. Yet, it was only able to reach me, and me it, in my letting go.

Most often what is waiting in between, the in between—Peace—is what gets one through.

Peace, always reaching out, longing to be held.

Peace, a treasure, seeking to be sought, but more than often not.

Peace, always near, always here, wandering care. 

Peace, destined for each other, like the calling of a mother.

Reach