Jesus said to his disciples: “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth. He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming. John 16:12-13
In this passage, Jesus indicates that the “Truth” can be overwhelming. He tells the disciples that they cannot bear it all just now. But the Holy Spirit will guide them to receive the Truth.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Isn’t that a fact for all of us? Don’t we need to grow into the Truth rather than comprehend it all at once?
At best, we live in a world of appearances and, at worst, a world of fabrication. We may be tempted to judge reality based on these thin and misleading surfaces.
To respond to the deep truths of life, we need to prayerfully follow the Spirit – to be gradually strengthened in our capacity to see the world as God sees it, to respond to the world as God would respond. – in Truth.
Poetry: Witness – Denise Levertov
Sometimes the mountain is hidden from me in veils of cloud, sometimes I am hidden from the mountain in veils of inattention, apathy, fatique, when I forget or refuse to go down to the shore or a few yards up the road, on a clear day, to reconfirm that witnessing presence.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, both Paul and Jesus speak forcefully against an endemic human fault: dishonesty.
Paul castigates “those who suppress the truth by their wickedness”:
The wrath of God is indeed being revealed from heaven against every impiety and wickedness of those who suppress the truth by their wickedness. For what can be known about God is evident to them, because God made it evident to them. Ever since the creation of the world, his invisible attributes of eternal power and divinity have been able to be understood and perceived in what he has made.
Romans 1:18-20
These “truth suppressors” are guilty for one reason – they know better! God’s Truth is evident to them in Creation yet they deny and pervert it for the sake of their own selfish ends.
As a result, they have no excuse; for although they knew God they did not accord him glory as God or give him thanks. Instead, they became vain in their reasoning, and their senseless minds were darkened. While claiming to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for the likeness of an image of mortal man or of birds or of four-legged animals or of snakes.
Romans 1:20-23
Jesus defines this untruth more clearly. He says that it presents itself in pretense – the external dissimulation which masquerades narcissistic motivations:
The Pharisee (who had invited Jesus to dinner) was amazed to see that Jesus did not observe the prescribed washing before the meal. The Lord said to him, “Oh you Pharisees! Although you cleanse the outside of the cup and the dish, inside you are filled with plunder and evil. You fools! Did not the maker of the outside also make the inside? But as to what is within, give alms, and behold, everything will be clean for you.”
Luke 11:38-41
Jesus indicates that charity is the perfect “cleanser” for dirty cup interiors (and dingy moral codes). Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? Well, maybe not so easy but certainly clear and simple.
Charity is rooted in the interior recognition that we are all children of our Creator and that we have a responsibility for one another’s welfare. Acting on that recognition is “almsgiving” which comes from the same Greek root, “eleemosyne“, as the word mercy.
Our world, like Paul’s, is challenged by the suppression of truth. Much of our visible culture is based on lies and pretense. Political hoodwinking, media non-objectivity, economic duplicity, and exploitive advertising conspire to convince us that:
we ourselves never are or have enough
anyone not “like us” is a threat to our insufficiency
foreigners are dangerous
power grants sovereignty
the poor are solely responsible for their poverty.
Jesus and Paul tell us that we must resist such lies, purify our hearts of their influence, and live a Gospel life of truth, charity, and mercy.
Prose: from the Catholic Encyclopedia:
I found this definition of almsgiving very thought-provoking because it indicates that “almsgiving or “mercy” is more than an act or actions. It is an attitude and lifestyle, a lens through which we consider all things in the light of the Gospel for the sake of the poor:
Any material favor done to assist the needy, and prompted by charity, is almsgiving. It is evident, then, that almsgiving implies much more than the transmission of some temporal commodity to the indigent. According to the creed of political economy, every material deed wrought by humans to benefit the needy is almsgiving. According to the creed of Christianity, almsgiving implies a material service rendered to the poor for Christ’s sake. Materially, there is scarcely any difference between these two views; formally, they are essentially different. This is why the inspired writer says: “Blessed is the one that considers the needy and the poor” (Psalm 40:2) — not the one that gives to the needy and the poor.
Music: The Prisoners’ Chorus – from Beethoven’s only operaFidelio
Fidelio is inspired by a true story from the French Revolution. It centers on a woman, Leonore, whose husband Florestan has been unjustly imprisoned by his political rival – the villainous Don Pizarro. In the magnificent “Prisoners’ Chorus”, the prisoners sing powerfully about the gift and need for freedom.
Oh what joy, in the open air Freely to breathe again! Up here alone is life! The dungeon is a grave.
FIRST PRISONER We shall with all our faith Trust in the help of God! Hope whispers softly in my ears! We shall be free, we shall find peace.
ALL THE OTHERS Oh Heaven! Salvation! Happiness! Oh Freedom! Will you be given us?
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, Moses goes on a rigorous forty day retreat:
So Moses stayed there with the LORD for forty days and forty nights, without eating any food or drinking any water, and he wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant, the ten commandments.
Exodus 33:28
The purpose of this intense retreat was for Moses to codify God’s law in his own heart. He is to be a witness and leader for God among the people. It was a law of relationship, written in stone for the people, but written in fire for Moses. If God’s intentions are not embedded in Moses’s own heart, his ministry will fail.
In our Gospel, the disciples go on a kind of retreat too. The crowds have been dismissed, and Jesus’s close friends sit down with him for an in-depth instruction in the meaning of his parables. They want to understand the mind and heart of Christ so that they can pattern their own on his Word.
A good retreat is like a spiritual spa experience. It can provide us with rest, clarity, nourishment, and stabilization. And good retreat direction, either through a spiritual guide or through the discipline of solitude, is invaluable to such a pursuit.
But while we can’t be on a formal retreat every day of our lives, we still need a daily “coming away” with God to center our spirits and to keep alive the holy fire within them.
Today might be a good day to evaluate those processes in our lives. Are they working for us? Or might our prayer and reflection time have become so routine as to lose its snap. Have we let life’s concerns slip into our solitude to the point of no longer hearing God’s whisperings? Or have we even truncated that time to meet those ever-expanding concerns?
We may feel so overwhelmed by life that we think we don’t have time for deep prayer. That’s like saying we don’t have time to breathe! If we don’t make the time for both of them, we will die. It’s that simple.
Sixty years ago, my Novice Director gave me a wonderful book. I return to it frequently to consider the spiritual discipline of my life. Here are two excerpts which seem to have bearing on today’s reflection and might inspire your considerations today:
When silence takes possession of you; when far from the racket of the human highway the sacred fire flames up in the stillness; when peace, which is the tranquillity of order, puts order in your thoughts, feelings, and investigations, you are in the supreme disposition for learning; you can bring your materials together; you can create; you are definitely at your working point; it is not the moment to dwell on wretched trifles, to half live while time runs by, and to sell heaven for nothings.
Retirement (retreat) is the laboratory of the spirit; interior solitude and silence are its two wings. All great works were prepared in the desert, including the redemption of the world
A.D. Sertillanges, The Intellectual Life: Its Spirit, Conditions, Methods
Poetry: The Stolen Child – William Butler Yeats Using his love for Celtic lore and fantasy, Yeats imagines a return to innocence at the hands of magical creatures, the faeries. With imagery rich in natural wonder, the reader is invited to “come away” from a world impossible to understand, and to be restored in spiritual truth. Sounds like a retreat to me!
Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats; There we've hid our faery vats, Full of berrys And of reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes From the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushes That scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering trout And whispering in their ears Give them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly out From ferns that drop their tears Over the young streams. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping
than he can understand.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings give us two examples of people talking to each other without communicating. Ever been there- just not quite on the same wavelength?
In the passage from Tobit, fiesty Anna brings home a bonus goat as a reward for her good work. Tobit, grumpy with the ill fortune of his blindness, accuses her of fencing stolen goods.
Anna said to me, “The goat was given to me as a bonus over and above my wages.” Yet I would not believe her, and told her to give it back to its owners. I became very angry with her over this. So she retorted: “Where are your charitable deeds now? Where are your virtuous acts? See! Your true character is finally showing itself!”
Tobit 2:14
Anna uses Tobit’s incalcitrance to make him take a good look at himself – his true character. She challenges another kind of blindness in Tobit beyond his physical challenges. He ultimately repents and prays for solace.
However, in our Gospel, a gang of antagonists intend to set a trap for Jesus. This is a whole different level of wavelength misalignment. Here, the questioners never had an intention to seek truth or come to mutual understanding.
Some Pharisees and Herodians were sent to Jesus to ensnare him in his speech. They came and said to him, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion. You do not regard a person’s status but teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
Mark 12:13-14
These two instances of fractious communication are differentiated by one key element: sincerity. Though out of alignment, both Anna and Tobit are sincere in their exchange. In our Gospel, only Jesus is sincere. His antagonizers use the reprehensible tool of gaslighting, attempting trap Jesus in his own words.
The Latin words “sine cera” mean ‘without wax”
“Sin-cere. Since the days of Michelangelo, sculptors had been hiding the flaws in their work by smearing hot wax into the cracks and then dabbing the wax with stone dust. The method was considered cheating, and therefore, any sculpture “without wax”—literally sine cera—was considered a “sincere” piece of art. The phrase stuck. To this day we still sign our letters “sincerely” as a promise that we have written “without wax” and that our words are true.”
Dan Brown, The Lost Symbol
How we communicate with one another affects how we build the kingdom of God together. The communication can be as ordinary as a couple’s banter, like Anna and Tobit. Or it can be as momentous as two cultures meeting in either resistance or transformation.
Our readings suggest that if we have not learned to practice sincerity even in small things, we will not have the awareness and spiritual freedom to practiice it in big things.
Poetry: “To thine own self be true” from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Here, Polonius instructs his son, Laertes, as he leaves for college.
There, my blessing with thee. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel, But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear ’t that th’ opposèd may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear but few thy voice. Take each man’s censure but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not expressed in fancy—rich, not gaudy, For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be, For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell. My blessing season this in thee.
Music: To Thine Own Self Be True – Music by Brian Tate
And check out the just -for-fun extra song below.
Maybe you can imagine Anna singing this oldie but goodie to Tobit once they argued over the goat!
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings remind us that being a Christian is simple, but not easy.
Stephen, presented to us in our reading from Acts, must have been a beautiful, simple person — almost angelic according to Acts’ description:
Stephen, filled with grace and power, was working great wonders and signs among the people.
Acts 6:8
All those who sat in the Sanhedrin looked intently at him and saw that his face was like the face of an angel.
Acts 6:15
St. Stephen – Giacomo Cavedone – c. 1601
Despite his goodness, Stephen became an object of hate and persecution by many:
Certain members of the so-called Synagogue of Freedmen, Cyreneans, and Alexandrians, and people from Cilicia and Asia, came forward and debated with Stephen, but they could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke. Then they instigated some men to say, “We have heard him speaking blasphemous words against Moses and God.”
Acts 6:9-11
This is such a revealing passage! Stephen’s persecutors cannot challenge his preaching themselves, so they create a web of poisonous lies and entangle some other men in its venom. They instigate these men to spread false allegations against Stephen which will eventually lead to his martyrdom.
There is a vital lesson here for us. Truth matters. Lies matter. They are the engines that drive not only our relationships and actions, but our very culture. And a hard look at our modern culture suggests that we are becoming a culture of lies.
I don’t need to give examples here. We know just from glancing at the newspaper, or perhaps – unfortunately – from reflecting on our own experiences.
We know the people who pretend they are what they are not.
We know who pretends that they are not what they actually are.
Jesus is a Truth Teller. In our Gospel, he gently confronts a bunch of people who are “pretending” their faith. Jesus tells them they’re not so much interested in the Truth he preaches as in the food he provided just yesterday. After all, everybody loves a good picnic!
Jesus answered them and said, “Amen, amen, I say to you, you are looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled. Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For on him the Father, God, has set his seal.”
John 6: 26-27
These bread seekers in our Gospel hear Jesus’s challenge so they ask him
“What can we do to accomplish the works of God?” Jesus answered and said to them,
“This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”
Just believe. Doing so will lead us to Truth and to a holy simplicity like that which radiated from Stephen. It’s that simple …. and that hard.
Poetry: A Christmas Hymn – by Richard Wilbur
Although the following poem is out of season, and does not mention Stephen, its refrain references his method of martyrdom: “every stone shall cry”. The poem is also a succinct and lyrical summary of the life of Christ and its meaning for us — a good thing to consider during this Eastertide.
A stable lamp is lighted whose glow shall wake the sky; the stars shall bend their voices, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry, and straw like gold shall shine; a barn shall harbour heaven, a stall become a shrine.
This child through David’s city shall ride in triumph by; the palm shall strew its branches, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry, though heavy, dull and dumb, and lie within the roadway to pave his kingdom come.
Yet he shall be forsaken, and yielded up to die; the sky shall groan and darken, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry for gifts of love abused; God’s blood upon the spearhead, God’s blood again refused.
But now, as at the ending, the low is lifted high; the stars shall bend their voices, and every stone shall cry. And every stone shall cry in praises of the child by whose descent among us the worlds are reconciled.
Music: Every Stone Shall Cry – Steve Bell musically interprets Wilbur’s poem.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, our readings offer us two very human, accessible stories.
The first, from Acts, is about the Pharisee named Gamaliel. Gamaliel was a big deal. An esteemed authority in the powerful Sanhedrin, he was the son and grandson of highly respected Jewish teachers. He was wise, prudent, honest and practical. Gamaliel was the “real deal” himself, and he recognized it in others.
Gamaliel and Nicodemus Mourn the Death of Stephen – Carlo Saracini -1615 AD
In today’s reading, Gamaliel intervenes in the Sanhedrin’s relentless pursuit of the early disciples. He basically tells his colleagues, “Hey, wait a minute. If these guys are “the real deal”, there is nothing we can do to undermine them. If they are not, they will undermine themselves. So just cool it for a while.”
While there is scant verifiable evidence to the fact, tradition holds that Gamaliel converted to Christianity. He is venerated as a saint in both the Roman Catholic and the Orthodox traditions.
Our Gospel tells us the familiar yet still amazing account of the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
It’s a wonderful story. I mean just put yourself in this noisy, curious, hungry crowd of 5000 people! Picture Jesus going up the mountainside so they could – maybe – hear what he might say.
Imagine that you’re Philip when Jesus turns to him and asks, “Where will we get enough food for this crowd?”
Do you see the unspoken answers written all over Philip’s face, “How should I know? Why are you asking ME!!!!”
The passage says that Jesus was testing Philip, but it was more like a tease when I picture it. Can’t you see the mischievous little smile on Jesus’s face? Jesus knew what he was going to do about the crowd’s hunger. He wanted to be sure his disciples paid strict attention to what was about to happen. So he got them involved with his testing questions.
God wants us to pay attention, too, to what happens when we bring our hungers before God’s merciful goodness. Like the few fish and loaves, God takes the smallest parts of us and builds them up with the gift of grace. God finds the willing fragments of faith, hope and love in us and multiplies them with God’s own power.
With this miracle, Jesus shows his followers and all of us, that there is a sacred reality and Truth beyond the thin scarcities we at first perceive. Deep faith allows us to plumb that reality and to live in its expansive promise. Walter Brueggemann puts it this way:
The feeding of the multitudes … is an example of the new world coming into being through God. When the disciples, charged with feeding the hungry crowd, found a child with five loaves and two fishes, Jesus took, blessed ,broke and gave the bread. These are the four decisive verbs of our sacramental existence. Jesus conducted a Eucharist, a gratitude. He demonstrated that the world is filled with abundance and freighted with generosity. If bread is broken and shared, there is enough for all. Jesus is engaged in the sacramental, subversive reordering of public reality.
Walter Brueggemann, The Liturgy of Abundance, The Myth of Scarcity
Gamaliel opened his heart to this Truth, as did the first disciples. It’s our turn now.
(Insert your name), where will we get the food to feed these hungers in our world?
Poetry: Miracles – Walt Whitman
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there?
Lavish Mercy 