Thank you, Malcolm
So many gospel themes find their focus on Maundy Thursday, so many threads of connection flowing to and from this deep source of love and vision, in the foot washing, and in the last supper.
The meditation in this sonnet, is centred on the ancient idea of the four elements of earth, air, water and fire, for it struck me as I contemplated the events of Maundy Thursday, both the foot-washing and the first communion, that all these elements of the old creation are taken up by Jesus and transformed in the making of the new. Jesus is both the fully human companion cleansing his friends with a gentle touch, sharing his last supper with them, showing the fullness of his love, and he also the Word, God in his full creative and shaping power, the One in and through whom everyone in that room, and every element of the…
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The sun has set and the Vesper Lights flicker and glow
This has been a day of deep emotions, Lord
It seems to have caught up with us
We had wonderful virtual visits with dear feiedns
We had a tremendous amount of work preparing for the Triduum
It hit me tonight
So many walking through the Valley of the Shadows
Talking with the daughter of a former parishioner
She never expected her Dad to be a pandemic statistic
The grief was so deep
It would have been Mom’s birthday tomorrow
We talked with my Dad and my Mom’s sister
The waves of grief and exhaustion rolled over me/us
After some quiet contemplation
My eyes are finally growing heavy
So I lift this humble prayer to you
Dona Nobis Pacem
Grant Us Peace
A wee prayer from the heart of your exhausted Padre…
So very relevant today… thank you Christine ❤️☘️
“According to the desert fathers and mothers, the longer we practice and work to heal our places of wounding, the more we will encounter the rising up of the ‘gift of tears.’ These tears are signs of both our sorrow over how we have rejected our true nature and our joy in our discovery of the beauty of God.”
— Christine Valters Paintner, PhD,Desert Mothers and Fathers: Early Christian Wisdom Sayings Annotated and Explained
What would it be like to see tears as gift and grace?
As I look back over the years I remember hitting the proverbial wall. Not in the sense that my fist went through it, but in the sense that I ran of steam and collapsed. Tonight I watched my beloved hit that wall… and I hit it myself.
We have been literally slogging along trying to offer virtual services and fellowship for the congregation I serve. There have been so many moments of joy and thanksgiving as we worshipped together. But for us it comes at a cost. Tonight we called my Mom’s sister in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Tomorrow would have been my Mom’s 87th birthday. It has been two years and five months since we laid her to rest. Four months later we laid Denise’s precious Mom to rest.
When you add the emotion of the call tonight with my Mom’s sister and the exhaustion we are feeling, we hit the wall. Now as we sit on the deck and look up at the stars I wonder. I wonder how long, O Lord… I wonder, where are you in the midst of this pandemic. I search, I wonder, and I pray…
As we watch the pandemic sweep this globe we wonder… my Aunt’s companion Jack has a son… his name is Alec (my grandfather’s name, my middle name, and my son’s name) who has contracted the COVID-19 virus. Jack is 102 and his son is in his 70’s. Once again it hits close to home. How long, O Lord, how long.
As we walk the journey with Jesus we approach the Last Supper… Gethsemane… the Betrayal… the cruel treatment… the torture… and that is only on Maundy Thursday into the break of day when the cock crows three times as Peter denies Jesus…
As we sit under the stars tonight I wonder… Orion is visible in the sky… my constant companion no matter where life or the military sent me. Always a beacon of hope… of home… Jesus, did you look to the stars in the sky for comfort as we do?
It all washes over me again… in the midst of it all, I turn to my spiritual mentor, my brother, my friend… for encouragement, for advice, for companionship on the journey.
In his Autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain p. 91, Merton shares the following about the journey of grief— Indeed, the truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you, in proportion to your fear of being hurt. The one who does most to avoid suffering is, in the end, the one who suffers the most: and his suffering comes to him from things so little and so trivial that one can say that it is no longer objective at all. It is his own existence, his own being, that is at once the subject and the source of his pain, and his very existence and consciousness is his greatest torture.
May God guide us through the Valley of the Shadows much as he did my spiritual mentor and as God guided Jesus… show us the way, Oh God, show us the way…
A beautiful offering, Malcolm!
John 12 1-8, tells us of how Mary of Bethany anointed Jesus. I love this intense and beautiful moment in the Gospels, The God of the Cosmos enters as a vulnerable man into all the particular fragility of our human friendships and intimacy. I love the way Jesus responds to Mary’s beautiful, useless gesture and recognises it as something that is always worth while, something that will live forever, for all the carping and criticism of Judas, then and now.
I feel a special poignancy in this gospel moment amidst the isolation of our present crisis, because it celebrates the touch and intimacy which so many of us are having to go without. My poem opens with the injunction ‘come close’ and yet the mantra of our time is ‘keep apart’. All the more then, as we are social distancing, must we seek intimacy with God, the intimacy he offers…
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The sun has set and the Vesper Lights flicker and glow
A day of worship preparation and reflection
A time of fellowship with a dear friend
Time to snuggle under the stars in front of the fire pit with my sweetheart
A day filled with your loving presence Lord
Now as my eyelids grow heavy
I lift this humble prayer to you
Dona Nobis Pacem
Grant Us Peace
A wee prayer from the heart of your Padre…
“In the Benedictine tradition, monks would take three vows: stability, conversion, and obedience. Stability on one level is a commitment to staying with the same community and monastery for their entire lives. But on another level it is about not running away from things.”
— Christine Valters Paintner, PhD,The Wisdom of the Body: A Contemplative Journey to Wholeness for Women
Can you respond to the call of the monk to stay in the “cell”—one’s own experience—and remain there, fully present?
As we continue this walk through Holy Week, I find myself returning again and again to Mary, the mother of Jesus. While the gospels talk a lot about the Disciples (and yes Jesus, but the reason for that is obvious) not much is mentioned about Mary. It isn’t until she is at the foot of the cross in John’s Gospel that she appears.
As many of you know, during our Ignatian Silent Retreat in Mobile at Spring Hill College in June of last year, I spent quite a bit of time in prayer and contemplation in Sodality Chapel. This is the original chapel on the campus of Spring Hill which was founded by the Jesuits in 1830. Sodality Chapel was built in 1850. The chapel is literally soaked in the prayers of thousands who have prayed and sought retreat and refuge.
I also spent a significant amount of time in reflection and silence with Mary. This picture is probably the most amazing picture of Mary and Jesus I have ever seen. It is so real and she is looking right at you. The young woman who was the model was a student at Spring Hill and the artist Stephanie Morris (also an Alum of Spring Hill) was perfect for this painting.
http://stephaniebmorris.com/workszoom/1902798
What does Mary mean to me? Her example to me is one of selfless love which was freely given to God. She was asked to give her own son back to God and knew deep within her heart that Simeon’s prophecy would come to pass…. and a sword shall pierce your heart. (Luke 2:35)
In today’s reality of COVID-19, so many are offering up the gifts which God has given them to others despite the risks to their own lives. I particularly think of our two friends Libby and Jesse. Jesse is a doctor/resident in one hospital and Libby is a medical Social Worker in another hospital. They are both on the front lines in NYC as the Pandemic continues to blast the people and the medical infrastructure there. Working selflessly to save the lives of others, they put themselves at risk every day.
This year is a difficult Holy Week for so many. How do we do what God has called us to do? How do we offer such love in the midst of this pandemic? I found an answer for me in these words of Thomas Merton: It is not enough for love to be shared: it must be shared freely. That is to say it must be given, not merely taken… unselfish love cannot rest perfectly except in a love that is perfectly reciprocated: because it knows that the only true love is found in selfless love. Selfless loves consents to be loved selflessly for the sake of the beloved. In so doing, it perfects itself. (No Man Is an Island, pp. 3-4)
In order for this nation and this world to come out on the other side of this Pandemic with some semblance of humanity, love must be the focus. Do not focus on fear, hatred, divisiveness, or any sort of thought process that pits one group against another (racially, sexually, theologically, politically, religiously… you get the point)… instead focus on our common humanity as Children of God… Yahweh, Allah, God, Great Spirit… however you name the Creator, we are all Children of the beloved. May we act as children of the beloved Creator and share that love as we seek a way through this Pandemic together.
Thank you, Malcolm!
To bear the burden their belovèd bears,
I wrote this poem five years ago for a service in Ely Cathedral celebrating the work of carers, but now, in the midst of this pandemic, I send it out again, thinking this time of the myriad care workers, the NHS frontline staff, the neighbours leaving food at doorsteps, the partners and families of those in self-isolation, all who are tending, even from a distance and over a screen to the needs of their loved ones. This goes out especially to ‘The patient partners lifting up a cross/to bear the burden their beloved bears’
As usual you can hear me read the poem by clicking on the title or the ‘play’ button.
So much goes unseen and stays unsaid,
So much that carers keep within their hearts;
The children who get parents out of bed,
Already tired before their…
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Thank you, Malcolm!
Come to your Temple here with liberation…
When Solomon dedicated the Temple he rightly declared that not even the Heaven of Heavens could contain almighty God, much less this temple made with hands, yet God himself still came into the temple. He came as a baby, the essence of all light and purity in human flesh, he came as a young boy full of questions, seeking to know his father’s will, and today he came in righteous anger to clear away the blasphemous barriers that human power-games try to throw up between God and the world he loves. Then finally, by his death on the cross he took away the last barrier in the Temple, and in our hearts, the veil that stood between us and the Holy of Holies, the very presence of God, in us and beyond us.
But these outward events are also inward ones. We cannot go out to the outer edifice of…
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