I have been reading "The Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux." Chapter 8 begins with a passage about the day she professed her final vows to become a Carmelite nun, an event for which she longed for years.
She wrote: "Now I must tell you about my retreat for Profession. Far from eperiencing any consolation, complete aridity - desolation, almost - was my lot. Jesus was asleep in my little boat as usual. How rarely souls let Him sleep peacefully within them. Their agitation and all their requests have so tired out the Good Master that He is only too glad to enjoy the rest I offer Him."
This passage turns the "dark night of the soul" on its head for me! Sometimes I feel like God is absent. Now I can just think, "Jesus is just asleep in my little boat. Get some rest, Jesus, and I'll wake You when I really need You!"
(Nonetheless, I am glad that the Ignatian Retreat I took just before professing my vows as a priest was FULL of consolation!!)
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Reflections on Today's Street Fight
Today, at mid-afternoon, I was in a pleasant neighborhood, walking out to my car, parked in the lot behind a family-run restaurant on one of the main streets in town.
I noticed a commotion, and looking beyond my car saw a young woman atop a young man, straddling his chest and fiercely beating him about the head and shoulders while another young man watched with apparent disinterest.
I called out to them with some simple statement like, "What in the world are you doing?!" to get their attention. The woman glared at me, and got off of the man. The disinterested man said, "Move along, this is not your business," and flashed a gang sign. I didn't move along, I just said I don't tolerate violence and stood my ground. "You better move along," he repeated. I didn't. The three of them did.
St. Francis said, "Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible."
Our society not only tolerates violence, it glorifies it, worships it like the Golden Calf. The moral values and influences of video games that award points for killing and stealing are not even questioned. Instead of "tag," we shoot paint balls at one another. While the commandment says, "Thou shalt not kill," we build more efficient weapons and dance around them. We put our faith in them, rather than in God who is Love.
Apparently there is still a lot of impossible yet to be done! Let us begin with a willingness to do what is necessary: to issue a personal withdrawal from the cult of violence and a surrender to the heart of love, and to invite others to do the same.
St. Francis reminds us that "all the darkness of the world cannot extinguish the light of a small candle." Likewise, Shakespeare wrote, "How far that tiny candle throws its beam; so shines a good deed in a naughty world."
Jesus, of whom John wrote, "The Light has come into the darkness, and the darkness can never put it out," offers the reminder that what we do to one another, we do to Him.
Let's replace the Golden Calf with the Golden Rule and see what happens.
Blessings,
David
I noticed a commotion, and looking beyond my car saw a young woman atop a young man, straddling his chest and fiercely beating him about the head and shoulders while another young man watched with apparent disinterest.
I called out to them with some simple statement like, "What in the world are you doing?!" to get their attention. The woman glared at me, and got off of the man. The disinterested man said, "Move along, this is not your business," and flashed a gang sign. I didn't move along, I just said I don't tolerate violence and stood my ground. "You better move along," he repeated. I didn't. The three of them did.
St. Francis said, "Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible."
Our society not only tolerates violence, it glorifies it, worships it like the Golden Calf. The moral values and influences of video games that award points for killing and stealing are not even questioned. Instead of "tag," we shoot paint balls at one another. While the commandment says, "Thou shalt not kill," we build more efficient weapons and dance around them. We put our faith in them, rather than in God who is Love.
Apparently there is still a lot of impossible yet to be done! Let us begin with a willingness to do what is necessary: to issue a personal withdrawal from the cult of violence and a surrender to the heart of love, and to invite others to do the same.
St. Francis reminds us that "all the darkness of the world cannot extinguish the light of a small candle." Likewise, Shakespeare wrote, "How far that tiny candle throws its beam; so shines a good deed in a naughty world."
Jesus, of whom John wrote, "The Light has come into the darkness, and the darkness can never put it out," offers the reminder that what we do to one another, we do to Him.
Let's replace the Golden Calf with the Golden Rule and see what happens.
Blessings,
David
Monday, August 8, 2011
I Thirst: Visiting Jesus
Some people are resistant to the image of Jesus on the cross. An empty cross is acceptable, a sign of victory, but a crucifix is troublesome.
I admit, if we stop the story there, we miss the point. But if we race past it, we also miss the point.
My friend in the nursing home is in pretty bad shape, physically. Last week he was a walking skeleton; this week he no longer has the strength to walk. Speaking is labored for him, an energy-draining effort to produce a few whispered words. Probably, there is not much more time left for me to visit him face-to-face.
Unable to or uninterested in eating, he often wants a vanilla milkshake, as was the case today. He may only sip a bit of it, maybe half-an-ounce, but I got him a large shake anyway, if only for the dignity of having the option.
As I reflected on our visit I thought about Jesus on the cross saying, "I thirst." Today, at least, I was able to offer that crucified Jesus a sip of a vanilla shake.
The cross is not convenient, pretty or popular, especially in a society so infused with capitalism and having personal worth determined by productivity and impact. What impact does my friend have?
On me, his impact is tremendous. How often do I get to offer my thirsting Lord a drink?
Blessings,
David
I admit, if we stop the story there, we miss the point. But if we race past it, we also miss the point.
My friend in the nursing home is in pretty bad shape, physically. Last week he was a walking skeleton; this week he no longer has the strength to walk. Speaking is labored for him, an energy-draining effort to produce a few whispered words. Probably, there is not much more time left for me to visit him face-to-face.
Unable to or uninterested in eating, he often wants a vanilla milkshake, as was the case today. He may only sip a bit of it, maybe half-an-ounce, but I got him a large shake anyway, if only for the dignity of having the option.
As I reflected on our visit I thought about Jesus on the cross saying, "I thirst." Today, at least, I was able to offer that crucified Jesus a sip of a vanilla shake.
The cross is not convenient, pretty or popular, especially in a society so infused with capitalism and having personal worth determined by productivity and impact. What impact does my friend have?
On me, his impact is tremendous. How often do I get to offer my thirsting Lord a drink?
Blessings,
David
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)