Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, God is actively at work in both our scripture passages.
In our reading from Exodus, God instructs Moses in the Divine plan for Israel’s deliverance. It’s as if they’re sitting together at a drawing table laying out the course of history! Moses has some trepidation about how the people will accept this audacious plan. He asks for more detail on the game plan and God gives him a powerful answer:
Moses, hearing the voice of the LORD from the burning bush, said to him, “When I go to the children of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the children of Israel: I AM sent me to you.”
Forever after God’s revelation to Moses, Moses is tied heart-to-heart with God in the unfolding plan of Creation. It is an image similar to the one Jesus uses in today’s Gospel.
Jesus asks us to be tied heart-to-heart with him, yoked to him as we seek our salvation. Jesus assures us that in that unity we will find rest and peace. The assumption might be that Jesus carries most of the weight and labor while we, conjoined with him in trust, benefit from his salvific action. The yoke is the sacred discipline of sincere openness to God’s Will wrought by prayer and Gospel living.
Jesus says all this within another “I am” statement – but this time God’s Name is given in descriptors rather than nomenclature: I ammeek and humble of heart …
Jesus said: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”
Matthew 11:28-30
Poem Prayer: from Prayer Seeds by Joyce Rupp
Unnameable God, I feel you with me at every moment. You are my food, my drink, my sunlight, and the air I breath. (Psalm 16; Stephen Mitchell)
with each refreshing rain each slant of sunshine each beam of moonlight each whisper of wind
in every spiraling thought every turning of the heart every spoken and written word every action large and small
you stead, you lead you encourage, you guide you embrace, you never let go
one with my soul, one with my life one with me in the first breath one with me in the last
you know me now you will know me always and forever
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, as we continue with Matthew, we begin a nearly three-week engagement with the Book of Exodus. Our companion along the way will be Moses (and, on occasion, Charlton Heston).
The Book of Exodus, a literary masterpiece, has profoundly influenced religion and culture for over 3000 years. Finally written down about 300 years before Christ, it is a gathering of the rich oral traditions and salvation history of the Judea-Christian faith. A total of forty chapters, the Book can be divided into two key parts: the liberation from Egyptian enslavement and the formation of a new, life-giving Covenant with God.
The Book’s enduring influence can be ascribed to these two themes. They reflect the universal life cycles in all of nature and in each one of our lives. The totality of human culture as well as our individual biographies are stories of breaking forth from whatever binds us into the call and promise of fuller life.
Today’s chapter is an introduction or bridge from the time of Joseph, (when Israel thrived in Egypt), to just before the emergence of Moses, (when Israel suffered in Egypt).
A new king, who knew nothing of Joseph, came to power in Egypt. He said to his subjects, “Look how numerous and powerful the people of the children of Israel are growing, more so than we ourselves! Come, let us deal shrewdly with them to stop their increase; otherwise, in time of war they too may join our enemies to fight against us, and so leave our country.”
Accordingly, taskmasters were set over the children of Israel to oppress them with forced labor.
Exodus 1:8-11
The theme of suffering also anchors our passage from Matthew:
Jesus said to his Apostles: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
Matthew 10:34
The suffering imposed upon both “the children of Israel” and true disciples of Jesus generates from the same source – fear:
Pharaoh is afraid of what he will lose should the growing Israelite community turn on him.
The fear of losing one’s life in Christ inhibits the heart from true discipleship.
As we pray and study these next few weeks with the Book of Exodus, we may be moved to consider the fears both within and around us that prevent us from growing to fuller life.
Our world is full of the fears that induce violence and retribution. Our own spirits may be restrained with the fear of what we might lose by falling deeper into a Gospel life.
Our journey through Exodus offers us a time to consider and examine the fears we perceive. These fears may not necessarily be big spiritual impediments. They may be as simple as the fear of not being right, first, liked, included, or successful. But those very simple fears, left moldering in our hearts, are the seeds of the isolation, domination, and dissolution we see so rampant in our current culture.
Praying with Exodus, may we ask for courage to name and expose our personal and societal fears to God’s healing grace. We might begin with this thought from Paula D’Arcy:
Who would I be, and what power would be expressed in my life, if I were not dominated by fear?
Israel finally answered that question by coming into Covenant with God and Community with one another. The path is much the same for us in our lives.
Poetry: Immortality by Lisel Mueller
In Sleeping Beauty’s castle the clock strikes one hundred years and the girl in the tower returns to the world. So do the servants in the kitchen, who don’t even rub their eyes. The cook’s right hand, lifted an exact century ago, completes its downward arc to the kitchen boy’s left ear; the boy’s tensed vocal cords finally let go the trapped, enduring whimper, and the fly, arrested mid-plunge above the strawberry pie fulfills its abiding mission and dives into the sweet, red glaze. As a child I had a book with a picture of that scene. I was too young to notice how fear persists, and how the anger that causes fear persists, that its trajectory can’t be changed or broken, only interrupted. My attention was on the fly: that this slight body with its transparent wings and life-span of one human day still craved its particular share of sweetness, a century later.
Music: Fear is a Liar by Zach Williams – in this song, Williams images God as Fire, a Fire upon Whom we can cast our fears for a return of Love.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings lead us to a converted understanding of life, one that couterposes war and peace, flesh and spirit, labor and rest.
Zechariah describes it. He shall banish the chariot from Ephraim, and the horse from Jerusalem; the warrior’s bow shall be banished, and he shall proclaim peace to the nations.
Paul preaches it. We are not debtors to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.
Jesus invites us to it. Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.
What do the prophet, the preacher, and the Messiah ask of us in these readings? What does the Church ask by grouping them for this Fourteenth Sunday?
These readings ask us to turn our lives upside down. By describing what the Reign of God is like, these readings challenge us to confront the commonly accepted misperceptions of our world and turn them inside out.
Zechariah tells us that the Reign of God is not accomplished by war or any other expression of human power over Creation. It is accomplished by the meek and humble justice which pours mercy over all of us:
Rejoice heartily, O daughter Zion, shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king shall come to you; a just savior is he, meek, and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
Zechariah 9:9
Paul tells us that the Reign of God blossoms from the Spirit of Christ within us and not from any material appearance of success – be it beauty, wealth, physical strength, or wrested power.
If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. Consequently, brothers and sisters, we are not debtors to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.
Romans 8: 11-13
Jesus, reminiscent of Zechariah, invites us to rest in the mystery of God’s humble love for us – expressed in the very Person of Christ given for our redemption.
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.
Matthew 11:28-30
These passages are dense with meaning and mystery. In holy contradiction to a soulless world, they call us to live in, and witness to God’s Silent Power underlying life’s visible appearances. Within this Power, the peacful are the conquerers, the spiritual are the fulfilled, and those bearing the yoke of Christ are freed.
Poetry: The Ponds ― Mary Oliver, from House of Light
Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe
their lapped light crowding
the black,
mid-summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them --
the muskrats swimming
among the pads and the grasses
can reach out
their muscular arms and touch
only so many, they are that
rife and wild.
But what in this world
is perfect?
I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided --
and that one wears an orange blight --
and this one is a glossy cheek
half nibbled away --
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.
Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled --
to cast aside the weight of facts
and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking
into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing --
that the light is everything -- that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, each of our readings presents a story of vocation and how it is fulfilled in a lifespan.
Our reading from Genesis describes four people at different stages of their life’s vocation: Abraham and Sarah in its fulfillment, Isaac and Rebekah in its initial hope.
For my prayer, I focused on Abraham who is closing out his story in peace, prosperity, and active hope for a future he will not see:
Abraham had now reached a ripe old age, and the LORD had blessed him in every way. Abraham said to the senior servant of his household, who had charge of all his possessions: “Put your hand under my thigh, and I will make you swear by the LORD, the God of heaven and the God of earth, … … that you will go to my own land and to my kindred to get a wife for my son Isaac.”
Genesis 24:1-4
Both Abraham and Sarah lived long and fruitful lives, matured in faith, and died in peace. Through the extensive history of their lives, they listened to and trusted God (on and off!), acted for God’s glory, and guided their household in God’s way.
They listened, responded and connected their lives irrevocably to God’s vision. It is at once a simple and a challenging formula for spiritual fulfillment.
In our Gospel, Matthew is called to the same formula which is the underpinning of any vocation:
As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post. He said to him, “”Follow me.”” And he got up and followed him. While he was at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat with Jesus and his disciples. The Pharisees saw this and said to his disciples, “”Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”” He heard this and said, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”
Matthew 9:9-12
Matthew listens to Jesus’ call, responds, and connects his life irrevocably to Jesus’ vision.
The continuing call for each of us is clear. Each of our lives offers us a particular expression of “vocation”. It may be as religious, priest, parent, spouse, family member, teacher, caregiver, public servant, or any other role that places us in loving and responsible relationship with our neighbor.
In that role, can we/do we:
listen for God in every circumstance
respond in faith, hope, and love
witness a Christ-rooted life by our actions for Gospel justice and mercy
Poetry: Vocation by William E. Stafford
This dream the world is having about itself
includes a trace on the plains of the Oregon trail,
a groove in the grass my father showed us all
one day while meadowlarks were trying to tell
something better about to happen.
I dreamed the trace to the mountains, over the hills,
and there a girl who belonged wherever she was;
but then my mother called us back to the car:
she was afraid; she always blamed the place,
the time, anything my father planned.
Now both of my parents, the long line through the plain,
the meadowlarks, the sky, the world's whole dream
remain, and I hear him say while I stand between the two,
helpless, both of them part of me:
"Your job is to find what the world is trying to be."
Music: The Call – Celtic Women sing a song written by Anthony Downes
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 117. We do so in the spirit of Thomas, who now offers his unquestioning faith to our patient and forgiving Jesus.
Praise the LORD, all you nations; glorify him, all you peoples! For steadfast is his kindness for us, and the fidelity of the LORD endures forever
Psalm 117: 1-2
Faith is not a commodity or an achievement. Faith is relationship and a journey.
It is a gift and an exercise of grace. Never stretched, it withers like a brittle ligament.
It ebbs and flows with our personal and communal dramas. It deepens with prayer, silent reaching, and a listening obedience to our lives. It shallows with our demands, like Thomas’s, only to see and to touch.
It is fed by the Lavish Mercy of God Who never cuts its flow to our souls if we but take down the seawall around our heart.
On this day when we celebrate the power of tested and proven faith, may we bring our needs into the circle gathered in that Upper Room.
Standing beside Thomas today in our prayer, may we place our trust in the glorified wounds of Christ.
A video today for our prayer: Blessed Are They That Have Not Seen
Music: Healing Touch – Deuter
As we reach out in faith with Thomas to touch Christ’s wounds, let us open our hearts to receive the returning touch of God’s Lavish Mercy.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings instruct us on the nature of prophecy.
Walter Bruggemann, in his transformational book “The Prophetic Imagination” writes about prophets. He indicates that prophets emerge in the context of “totalism” – those paralyzing systems which attempt to control and dominate all freedom and possibility.
Totalism kills ideas, hope, freedom, choice, self-determination, and creativity for the sake of controlling reality for its own advantage. Totalism is the ultimate “abusive relationship“. Examples in our society include cults, hate groups, mob rule, or any relationship that subjugates another’s free will.
Brueggemann defines the prophet as one engaged in these three tasks to restore hope and freedom:
the prophet is clear on the force and illegitimacy of the totalism.
the prophet pronounces the truth about the force of the totalism that contradicts the purpose of God.
the prophet articulates the alternative world that God has promised, and that God is actually creating within the chaos around us.
Our first reading comes from the Second Book of Kings which was written about 600 years before Christ. The Jewish people experienced the totalism of the Babylonian Captivity.. First and Second Kings was written to help the people understand their situation, to remain faithful to God, and to move toward freedom.
These two books are full of powerful figures pulling the people both toward and away from God – biblical Baddies and Goodies who carried profound messages about faith or its abandonment.
One of the Goodies is Elisha the Prophet whom we meet in today’s verses. Elisha confronts barrenness and death with the transformative power of faith. The Summanite woman is able to benefit from this power because she believes.
In our second reading, Paul doesn’t use the word “prophet” but he talks about the Resurrection Power we receive through our Baptism. This power calls us and confirms us as bearers of God’s transformative Word in a hostile and unfree world.
In our Gospel, Jesus is direct with his disciples about the rewards which fall to those who have prophetic faith:
“Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me. Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward. And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because the little one is a disciple— amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.”
Matthew 10:40-42
So, are we actually called to be prophets? The answer is YES. We are called by the Gospel and through our Baptism to do what Walter Brueggemann describes above:
to name the structures of unfreedom in our lives and in our world
to speak truth and stand against those things which contradict God’s Mercy and Love
to witness hope and courage by the joyous, generous service of our lives
You are not surprised at the force of the storm— you have seen it growing. The trees flee. Their flight sets the boulevards streaming. And you know: he whom they flee is the one you move toward. All your senses sing him, as you stand at the window.
The weeks stood still in summer. The trees’ blood rose. Now you feel it wants to sink back into the source of everything. You thought you could trust that power when you plucked the fruit: now it becomes a riddle again and you again a stranger.
Summer was like your house: you know where each thing stood. Now you must go out into your heart as onto a vast plain. Now the immense loneliness begins.
The days go numb, the wind sucks the world from your senses like withered leaves.
Through the empty branches the sky remains. It is what you have. Be earth now, and evensong. Be the ground lying under that sky. Be modest now, like a thing ripened until it is real, so that he who began it all can feel you when he reaches for you.
Music: When the Prophet Speaks – Van Morrison (lyrics below)
When the prophet speaks, mostly no one listens
When the prophet speaks and no one hears
Only those who have ears to listen
Only those that are trained to hear
Come closer now, I'll tell you what they whisper
Closer now, we'll whisper it in your ear
What big ears you've got when you get the details
Do you understand, do I make it clear?
When the prophet speaks, yeah, no one listens
When the prophet speaks, mostly no one hears
Only those that are trained to listen
Only those who have ears to hear
When the prophet speaks, yeah, no one listens
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Don't you have no fear
You gotta get the truth on what is happening
When the prophet speaks, have to make it clear
Come closer now and I will whisper
Whisper the secret in your ear
What thick ears you've got when you get all the details
Do you understand, do I make myself clear?
When the prophet speaks, you've got to listen
When the prophet speaks, you've got to get the truth
When the prophet speaks, don't need no explanation
When the prophet speaks, have to make it move
Prophet speaks, no one listens
When the prophet speaks, mainly nobody hears
Only those that are trained to listen
Only those who have ears to hear
Today, in in God’s Lavish Mercy, we celebrate the great Apostles Peter and Paul, first architects of the Christian faith.
From our 21st century perspective, we may be tempted today to celebrate the totality of their accomplishments – the scriptures ascribed to them, the theology traced to them, the cathedrals named for them.
But there is a deeper message given to us in today’s readings, one that challenges our practice of faith. We can access that message by asking an obvious question:
Why were Peter and Paul, simple religious leaders, persecuted, imprisoned, harassed, and eventually executed? What was the terrible threat these unarmed preachers presented to political power?
In those days, King Herod laid hands upon some members of the Church to harm them. He had James, the brother of John, killed by the sword, and when he saw that this was pleasing to the Jews he proceeded to arrest Peter also. –It was the feast of Unleavened Bread.– He had him taken into custody and put in prison under the guard of four squads of four soldiers each.
Acts 12:1-3
The answer:
It was their testimony to the transformative Gospel message of Jesus Christ – the Gospel of Mercy and Justice.
But Jesus’ proclamation of God’s kingdom constituted a serious challenge to the Romans who ruled Israel during his lifetime. The cheering crowds who greeted him, especially during his entry into Jerusalem, as well as his confrontation with the moneychangers in the Temple, constituted such a threat to the unjust power of empire that the rulers crucified Jesus in order to silence him. – Elizabeth Johnson, CSJ
Peter and Paul, and every committed Christian after them, bears the same holy threatto ensuing cultures of domination, violence and greed.
As Jesus, Peter, Paul and so many others down through Pope Francis show us, faith and politics always work hand in hand. The work of faith is to build a world where every person can live, and find their way to God, in dignity and peace. It is to witness to an alternative to any power that feeds on the freedom, joy and peace of another person – especially those who are poor, sick and vulnerable.
May Peter and Paul inspire us to continue the daunting task of such an apostolic faith.
Poetry: The Passion of the Apostles Peter and Paul by Aurelius Prudentius Clemens, a Roman Christian poet, born in 348 AD. With his merger of Christianity with classic culture, Prudentius was one of the most popular medieval authors, being aligned as late as the 13th century alongside such figures as Horace and Statius. (Wikipedia)
Reading this poem, I was pleasantly reminded of my long-ago Latin classes. For those who might want to read the original Latin composition, here is a link:
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, both our readings express a desire for equanimity and reasonableness in our dealings with fellow human beings.
Rich old Abraham and rich young Lot can’t seem to get there unless they move away from each other. As we know from life, that’s sometimes the only and best route to peace (even though Lot ended up in a pretty bad neighborhood!)
Thus they separated from each other; Abram stayed in the land of Canaan, while Lot settled among the cities of the Plain, pitching his tents near Sodom (uh oh!).
Genesis 13:11-12
In our Gospel, Jesus gives us some snippets of common sense and mutuality too:
Do not give what is holy to dogs, or throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them underfoot, and turn and tear you to pieces.
Do to others whatever you would have them do to you. This is the Law and the Prophets.
Matthew 7: 6;12
However, the even-steven tone of these passages is countered by the Gospel’s closing verse:
Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many. How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few.
Matthew 7:13-14
Jesus seems to be telling us that “even-steven” is not so “easy-peasy”!
It is a huge challenge to live in sacred balance with our sisters and brothers, and with all Creation. That Balance was lost in Eden but redeemed on Calvary. For us to allow its redemption in our own lives, we must live in the pattern of Christ’s sacrificial love. That pattern is “the narrow gate”. May we be among the few who find it!
Poem: The Narrow Way – Anne Brontë, one of the noted three sisters in a famous literary family. Their stories attracted attention for their passion and originality immediately following their publication. Charlotte’s Jane Eyre was the first to know success, while Emily’s Wuthering Heights, Anne’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and other works were accepted as masterpieces of literature later. Anne’s famous poem The Narrow Way, while seeped in the weighty tones of Victorian literature, makes a powerful point for any generation. (ref:Wikipedia)
The Narrow Way
Believe not those who say The upward path is smooth, Lest thou shouldst stumble in the way, And faint before the truth.
It is the only road Unto the realms of joy; But he who seeks that blest abode Must all his powers employ.
Bright hopes and pure delights Upon his course may beam, And there, amid the sternest heights The sweetest flowerets gleam.
On all her breezes borne, Earth yields no scents like those; But he that dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose.
Arm—arm thee for the fight! Cast useless loads away; Watch through the darkest hours of night, Toil through the hottest day.
Crush pride into the dust, Or thou must needs be slack; And trample down rebellious lust, Or it will hold thee back.
Seek not thy honor here; Waive pleasure and renown; The world’s dread scoff undaunted bear, And face its deadliest frown.
To labor and to love, To pardon and endure, To lift thy heart to God above, And keep thy conscience pure;
Be this thy constant aim, Thy hope, thy chief delight; What matter who should whisper blame, Or who should scorn or slight?
What matter, if thy God approve, And if, within thy breast, Thou feel the comfort of His love, The earnest of His rest?
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings are studies in darkness and light.
Jeremiah – from the Sistine Chapel ceiling painted by Michelangelo c. 1512
Our first reading comes from Jeremiah, sometimes referred to as “the weeping prophet”. Jeremiah was pretty much a sad sack, as today’s selection demonstrates. He wrote for the Jews during the darkness of the Babylonian exile, helping them to mourn their situation which had been brought upon themselves by their unfaithfulness and sin. Jeremiah calls the people to repent and to find a healing grace by trusting God.
Sing to the LORD, praise the LORD, who has rescued the life of the poor from the power of the wicked!
Jeremiah 22:13
Paul, addressing the Romans, uses the same light/dark, sin/redemption theme. He says that all of us display an inclination to darkness by any choice to break relationship with God, neighbor and Creation.
In the Genesis allegory of Adam and Eve, they choose to supersede God’s terms of relationship, eschewing the pure abundance of Creation for the sake of a self-satisfying “apple”.
The magnificent encyclical “Laudato Si” leads us through an enlightened understanding of of this Genesis story:
The creation accounts in the book of Genesis contain, in their own symbolic and narrative language, profound teachings about human existence and its historical reality. They suggest that human life is grounded in three fundamental and closely intertwined relationships: with God, with our neighbor and with the earth itself. According to the Bible, these three vital relationships have been broken, both outwardly and within us. This rupture is sin. The harmony between the Creator, humanity and creation as a whole was disrupted by our presuming to take the place of God and refusing to acknowledge our creaturely limitations. This in turn distorted our mandate to “have dominion” over the earth (cf. Gen 1:28), to “till it and keep it” (Gen 2:15). As a result, the originally harmonious relationship between human beings and nature became conflictual (cf. Gen 3:17-19). It is significant that the harmony which Saint Francis of Assisi experienced with all creatures was seen as a healing of that rupture. Saint Bonaventure held that, through universal reconciliation with every creature, Saint Francis in some way returned to the state of original innocence. This is a far cry from our situation today, where sin is manifest in all its destructive power in wars, the various forms of violence and abuse, the abandonment of the most vulnerable, and attacks on nature.
Laudato Sì, paragraph 66
Our Gospel so beautifully complements this enlightened understanding. Jesus encourages his disciples not to be afraid because the Creator embraces them in love and care. They, as we, need not make parsimonious choices that fracture essential relationships with God, neighbor, self, or Creation. We are already safe and whole in God.
Jesus said to the Twelve: “Fear no one. Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known. What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops…
… Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows…
Matthew 10:26-33
Poetry: The Root of the Root of Yourself – Rumi
(Reading this poem, we might imagine that the Trinity is inviting us to recover the pristine goodness of our creation.)
Don’t go away, come near. Don’t be faithless, be faithful. Find the antidote in the venom. Come to the root of the root of yourself.
Molded of clay, yet kneaded from the substance of certainty, a guard at the Treasury of Holy Light — come, return to the root of the root of your Self.
Once you get hold of selflessness, You’ll be dragged from your ego and freed from many traps. Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.
You are born from the children of God’s creation, but you have fixed your sight too low. How can you be happy? Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.
You were born from a ray of God’s majesty and have the blessings of a good star. Why suffer at the hands of things that don’t exist? Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.
You are a ruby embedded in granite. How long will you pretend it’s not true? We can see it in your eyes. Come to the root of the root of your Self.
You came here from the presence of that fine Friend,
a little dazed, but gentle, stealing our hearts
with that look so full of fire; so,
come, return to the root of the root of your Self.
Today in God’s Lavish Mercy, our dear Apostle Paul is pretty much around the twist with the Corinthians. As the Church grows and the faith spreads, many “Christian” teachers arise. Some are truly called to the mission and ministry. They engage it and discharge it with humility and grace.
But some get their motives all mixed up with their own agenda for aggrandizement. They are flashy eloqutionists who can mesmerize an audience with their practiced charms. But they have missed the point of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Instead they make the mission all about themselves – their wealth, success, prosperity and power. . These are the ones who are driving Paul “nuts” – to the point of speaking “insanely” in verse 23:
Are they ministers of Christ? (I am talking like an insane person.) I am still more, with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, far worse beatings, and numerous brushes with death.
2 Corinthians 11:23
Living the Gospel is not easy, and preaching it with integrity may be even harder. The Gospel contradicts everything our unredeemed human nature craves. To demonstrate this, Paul says that he too will boast like the errant preachers boast. But Paul contradicts them by boasting not of his personal gifts and powers, but of his sufferings, weaknesses, anxieties and catastrophes. He shows that he loves the Gospel and the Church so much that he will suffer for it to keep it aligned with the Truth of Jesus Christ.
Kelly Latimore Icons – Mr. Rogers ( a truthful preacher himself)
When I read 2 Corinthians, I realize that Paul was no Mr. Rogers humming soft philosophy to his followers. Paul could be a fiery hot head unafraid to show his anxious love and indignant frustration for a dense yet beloved community. When they were “stupid” enough to be infatuated with a worldly teacher, Paul suffered intensely for their loss of the Gospel:
And apart from these things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is led to sin, and I am not indignant?
2 Corinthians 11:28-29
In our Gospel, Jesus paints an ominous metaphor for those who distort truth for their own purposes. If we allow ourselves, as individuals or as a culture, to normalize dishonesty, we are doomed to an incomprehensible darkness. When we practice such normalization, we eventually forget how to even discern the truth and we become convinced of the lie we have become.
“The lamp of the body is the eye. If your eye is sound, your whole body will be filled with light; but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be in darkness. And if the light in you is darkness, how great will the darkness be.”
These are powerful readings and have much to say to us and to our socio-political institutions. If we truly are people of faith, we will listen.
Poetry: We Grow Accustomed to the Dark – Emily Dickinson
We grow accustomed to the Dark – When Light is put away – As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp To witness her Good bye –
A Moment – We Uncertain step For newness of the night – Then – fit our Vision to the Dark – And meet the Road – erect …
Lavish Mercy 