The Communities of New Skete

Scripture Reading: Ez 18:21-3, 30-2; Hb 3:7-16; Mk 5:24b-34

Reflections from a Monk

Just a couple of weeks ago, Paul Harvey, the famous radio commentator, died. His fans would hear the lead into his program: “Stand by for Paul Harvey” and then he would deliver his signature feature: “The Rest of the Story.” In this morning’s Gospel we heard about the woman with the issue of blood, but we did not hear the passages just before and after that story about Jairus’ daughter. Jesus was responding to a plea from Jairus, president of the synagogue, who asked Jesus to go and lay his hands on his ill daughter so that she may be saved and live. On the way to Jairus’ home the incident with the woman with the issue of blood takes place. And after that incident, Jesus learns that Jairus’ daughter has died but Jesus proceeds to Jairus’ home anyway to bring his daughter back to life. When we add “the rest of the story,” we can see this passage, among other things, as a meditation on living in the “now” and being recollected.

How often do we set out to do something and then along the way get distracted either by someone or something that seems to need immediate attention? The first challenge this presents is what to do in the moment. If we stop to give our attention to the intervening incident or person, then we will delay, or maybe forget completely, the other task we were on our way to do. If we simply ignore the distraction with a single-minded focus on the task we originally intended to do, we then may be dismissing real needs of others or missing a chance to head off future problems or to seize an opportunity to grow or affect positive change in another person or a situation.

What does this morning’s gospel reveal to us about this dilemma? For one thing, Jesus, in both incidents, was responding to the needs of others. For Jairus, Jesus was responding to a plea for help to save a life, his daughter’s. For the woman with the issue of blood, Jesus was being sensitive to even the subtlest signs of human desperation. And in both cases Jesus was showing not only his own but God’s love for humankind and mercy towards human needs. Jesus was also unconcerned about the order of things. Should he rush ahead to deal with the Jairus girl since Jairus’ request came first, and then rush back to find out more about this other woman? He did not frame the issue that way, he simply met life as it came to him and trusted that all would be well and handled in God’s time.

From the point of view of the woman, she was acting out of desperation but she was also acting in faith. And this may be the ultimate message of this gospel. Do we have faith and believe that God is with us in what we do and helps us accomplish what needs to be done? When we confront and respond to an interruption in our plans, what word is before us?

Is it God whispering in our ear or are we screaming at life?
Is it inspiration or exasperation?
Is it about solving a real problem or simply making others or my surroundings conform to my desires and plans?
Is it all about me or all about others?

How many times have we said, oh rats, I forgot to do that! Do we notice that the world hasn’t come to an end because of what we forgot? Getting something done is important, when it gets done is also important. But we may not always be in the position to really know what the timing is to be. We may not always get the priorities right. Who fills in the gaps?

We say the Lord’s Prayer over and over again, but do we really want God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven? Or do we want our will to be done because we don’t believe God’s will really extends to the earth. [Ps 94:10] Jesus had no doubt about the efficacy of God’s power on earth. No interruption in Jesus’ itinerary would in any way undo the outcome that God intended. Even in Gethsemane when he asked if this cup might pass, he also said, not mine but your will be done. When our goal in life is to try and conform our will with God’s will, rather than to presume that our will is God’s will, we will begin to see that interruptions and distractions along the road of life are not necessarily distractions at all but opportunities to remind ourselves what our real focus in life is to be. It is not easy to do this. We want to get things done according to our predetermined schedule!

In the life of this community, for example, we had talked about working on a healing service and incorporating it into our annual pilgrimage. But all that work did not come together until last year. By that time we had begun to develop contacts with the healing center in Greenwich and a number of people familiar with their work came to our Pilgrimage and expressed their appreciation of it. By focusing on healing at that time, we also may have been better prepared to deal with healing our grief over the loss of Sr. Katrina. It may also have helped us to be more open to ways of meeting other grieving needs, whether my mother in October or the young man Cory Hunter just last month or even our long-time friend Millie Katz. As we face illness and death, whether young or old, we are not alone. These events were not in our control. Our actions and responses are woven into God’s larger tapestry of our life.

Our Lenten observances are to help us refocus on the central reality of God’s presence in our lives and our world. There is no point to asking for God’s mercy, as we do over and over again during Lent, if we don’t believe it matters. The woman with the issue of blood believed very much that it mattered. As Christ said to her, your faith has healed you. Even with Jairus, it was his faith that led him to ask Jesus for help and to believe that his help would make a difference. This gospel lesson and this Lenten season offer us another chance to write the rest of the story of our lives and to let our hand be guided by the one who created us.

Scripture Reading: Jer. 9:1-8; 22-23; Hebr. 3:7-14; Matt. 4:1-11

Reflections from a Monk

Glory to Jesus Christ!

A few weeks ago I heard the story of a woman who had an extremely painful illness. When she was asked why she suddenly stopped complaining, she replied that she realized she was experiencing what so many millions of people in the world were going through in destitution and war, famine, and disease. Now during moments of severe pain she felt connected with them in a special way. She understood and was able to empathize and pray for them. She wondered whether her own suffering and trials, shared in this way, could lessen their load even a little. When she cooperated with this new grace and awareness she felt, did she somehow help raise the common level of hope and light for humanity?

She heroically responded to a calling, I think, before her time ran out, while she still had time, a bit of today, as St. Paul says.

Paul urges us when the going gets difficult if not unbearable to hold mightily onto our and our first love, belief, confidence in the Lord: he means, don’t freeze up and harden your face or your heart and mind. A time of pain, chaos, insecurity, anxious uncertainty, or disaster is exactly the time to put aside our ego, hurt, confusion, and cynicism and aim at only one thing—to live the life of Christ in the light of the Holy Spirit within us. When St. Peter said, “Lord, I believe—help my unbelief!” he was not talking about articles of the creed but about grasping and living eternal life right here and now, even as we eat the bread of tears.

Today’s Gospel shows us one segment of the battle Jesus waged in order to be true to his own calling. When he was afflicted by devilish thoughts and diabolical suggestions in the desert: on the face of it they seem so reasonable and expedient, yet they are a part of the way the world works, what we can call the great lie. Follow these and you end up bringing more harm and suffering to yourself and others. Can we continue at such a time to face these real temptations with faith in the name and leadership of Jesus, to dispel them and hang on in hope of finding clarity?

I think this experience is not unique to Jesus. Just like in the desert Israel felt desperate with hunger and received the Manna and the quail, but when they needed water they tried manipulating God to do it their way. Even later they forgot their first covenant for the sake of political convenience.

Early in bible history Esau bartered his inheritance from Jacob just for a bowl of soup, of all things, when he was hungry. How blind we sometimes can be.

What is at stake: relief at any cost, or keeping your eyes on the goal, on the invisible realities? To be able to do it now, means being in the habit of doing it all along. This means practicing patience, long-suffering, and endurance in small things until an answer comes we know is in line with what is true and good. Joy and even good old happiness come most from facing and finishing something successfully and with a good conscience.

Fighting the devil in the desert is not our usual ordinary experience today. Yet clearly we do speak about fighting our own demons, the things that bedevil our life and work, the devilish thoughts within ourselves or the seemingly demonic forces inside and out. There are terrible addictions and failures, abusive situations, life-threatening struggles, and complicated ethical choices.

And like Jesus, we can also find ourselves in more subtle quandaries: Am I able to handle my position and authority in a personable and respectful way? Can I use my gift and energy for the betterment of my neighbor and not just self-centered purposes? Power means responsibility: Do I really know how corruptible or incorruptible I am?

As one commentator wrote, we are more apt to turn butter into guns than be tempted to turn stones into bread (unless maybe you live on a farm), and we are constantly tempted to mistrust the grace of God to empower us. We pray “Lead us not into temptation,” but when it is thrown at us—as the Lord said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul also said that Christ is able to understand and empathize with us because he, too, was tempted and suffered as one of us.

And yet our doubts still rise up, along with excuses, hesitations, and fears. How convinced am I in God’s help, presence, and goodness? Do I have the conviction that I can and will find healing, though maybe not in the way I imagine, or that truth will triumph and patience find its reward, though maybe not by my timetable?

Even Jesus was tempted again and again by well-meaning people to show himself as the Messiah and take up his leadership role as he seemed to do when he cleansed the Temple. But he never claimed to be the Messiah, and he always resisted the temptation to do so. Peter and others strongly warned him to hide and avoid going to Jerusalem, but Jesus knew he had to speak out and spread God’s message of salvation. Unfortunately, to speak meant the powers-that-be would silence him. Yet his silencing and death was the way to serve humankind in the deepest sense, for they opened the way to the resurrection, the ascension, and the coming of the Holy Spirit.

That is the paradox of compassion and love: we may desire to alleviate suffering, especially of the poor and oppressed, but we can only do this when we also take up our cross and follow Christ. Anything else only brings more harm than good.

Christ is in our midst!

Scripture Reading: Si 28:2-12; Eph 5:1-2, 8-20; Mt 6:14-21

Reflections from a Nun

John the Baptist words “Prepare the way of the Lord” usually are interpreted to repent –change your way of life. They are an apt reminder for the beginning of Lent. Forgiving one another as Jesus forgave us is the churchs’ way of initiating this changing our way of life—metania or metanoia. What better way to prepare for the Paschal mysteries than to start with a clean slate, to begin again to live truly Christian lives.

What do we need to change to begin again?

An experiment was conducted by the Washington Post not too long ago.
The outlines of this social experiment were about perception, taste and the priorities of people.
Joshua Bell played an expensive violin in a subway for 45 minutes around the time people were going to work or school or whatever. Most people rushed by, a few threw him money without stopping, a very few stopped to listen for a little while, many children had to be tugged away by their adult but looked like they would have stayed if permitted. One conclusion that could be drawn by this experiment was if we don’t have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music, how many things are we missing? It struck me that time was a deterrent for most of those people in the subway. What effect does time have in our own lives in determining what we are? How does time enable us to see what we may change or develop in ourselves? How many things are we missing?

There are several dimensions to time. One is that with enough time, we become wiser and can see and understand things we did not in our youth. Reflect how we talk about it as Joan Chittister has pointed out. In our day time has become a commodity, a thing. We say “we lost time, we wasted time, we spent time, we killed time, we save time, we count time and we invest time”. Time has become a commodity, rather than an experience.

All these are ways of thinking about time. I think the purpose of time is to alert us to ourselves so that we can become the one thing it is really worth our time to be: a deeply spiritual, totally human being. Real spirituality demands that we care enough about all the moments of time to use our reason to live our faith well. Make it a practice this Lent to take time to live consciously and purposefully.

What change in our way of life needs to happen for us to make our time worthwhile?
Let’s start with the experience of forgiveness. I don’t know of anyone who hasn’t made mistakes and will again. It happens to all of us. It happens to parents as well as their children, teachers as well as
their students, bosses as well as their employees, the diligent as well as the lazy. Even presidents or corporation heads who earn 6 figure salaries are not immune. This proclivity to making mistakes,
to sinning, to hurting others in myriad different ways happens with all of us. We are surprised when we see it in others and we are devastated when it occurs in ourselves.

We see others also waste time when they attempt to hide their mistakes. We of course would never waste our time trying to cover up our own mistakes! How many things are we missing? Besides the ability to forgive and be forgiven, how many things are we grateful for? Let us not miss all the good things, all the opportunities to live consciously and purposefully.

In this Lent let us take time to reflect what we need to realize our mistakes, to see we are part of the human race- the body of Christ; to take time to be gracious enough to forgive. Let us approach Christ in this way, repentant and seeking forgiveness. In so doing, our hearts will be filled with the love and forgiveness of Christ flowing through us to others.

Christ is in our midst!