Today's Word

Today’s Word: Pilgrim

Steve · September 14, 2013 · 1 Comment

rock1 — Life isn't a destination. SJG photo

To be on a journey as a pilgrim — whether real or metaphorical, whether alone or with others — is to walk with the certainty that we are walking a road that many others have travelled before us. And so we are never alone, guided as we are by this communion of saints and common souls— this ragamuffin band — and led by the footprints, signs and traces of all who have come before us.

The wisdom we seek on this journey, while perhaps contained in the writings and experiences of these prior pilgrims, can really only be found by walking the journey and allowing the knowledge to seep into our deepest being. And there we begin to make some sense of the trip, with all its twists and turns, dead ends, false avenues and strange forks in the road. Wisdom lies in our lived and contemplated experiences of our own unique journeys. Wisdom comes in reflection, in the integration of the multitude of our sacred moments with all that we have read and heard. For faith comes through listening, through hearing the sacred word of God in scripture and in the stories of those who walk with us and before us.

A stone in the labyrinth, Mercy Center, St. Louis. SJG photo (click to view larger)

Ask yourself in silence: Am I paying attention to the journey I am on? Am I noticing the turns and watching for the signs that lead me to an abundance of life in God?

Today’s Word: Night

Steve · September 12, 2013 · 2 Comments

Last night I spent the night as the only person in the Ignatius House Jesuit Retreat Center outside of Atlanta. I arrived in the evening so I would be ready to present a retreat today to a group of (what turned out to be) inspiring, incredibly open and courageous cancer patients, along with their supportive family and friends and some dedicated and equally inspiring caregivers and pastoral care workers. More on that tomorrow. But last night I found myself all alone in the big ole rambling place. “Sounds creepy,” said Sue and our daughter Jenny on the phone. But it was just the kind of silence and darkness that I needed. Night — especially a dark and quiet night out in the country — often gives focus to my prayer and pulls my thoughts to God more intensely because the dark and the silence block out the noise and light of the world. So I was not feeling creepy but, rather, deeply.

I wandered the halls a little. I sat in the small chapel for an hour and a half reading, praying and working on the next day’s talks. I sat out on a balcony and watched a spider spin a web. Midnight was approaching and I could have stayed up much later; would have if not for the knowledge that I had to get up early to begin my day. I reluctantly turned in, but not before offering a prayer to the Creator of the night — the artist of darkness and the composer of exquisite silence.

A Night Prayer

Under the veil of dark
I turn to you, Lord
To illuminate the night
To lighten my mind
To enlighten my soul
To recall my day
To find your movements
To begin to begin again
To anticipate tomorrow
To live in hope.

Ask yourself in silence: Do you find God in the darkness and quiet of the night? Do you take the time to review your day in the evening and prepare for the next day?

Today’s Word: Rain

Steve · September 8, 2013 · 2 Comments

Today’s word is rain because, well, it’s raining. I’m up early this morning after a late night out with my band, and I’m sitting in my favorite chair next to an open door. The early morning breeze is cool and a gentle rain has been falling for the past hour or so. Off in the distance thunder rumbles. This rain, hitting off the deck outside the door and splashing noiselessly into the thirsty earth, today speaks to me of prayer and the presence of God.

St. Ignatius once described our interaction with the Spirit as “lightly and gently, like a drop of water that enters into a sponge.” Think of the gentleness of that; it’s barely noticeable until we are filled. Without the Spirit, we are an empty shell of being, dry and useless, just taking up space. But when we open ourselves to the Spirit, when we set ourselves out in the rain, so to speak, we can be filled, inundated, inebriated even by the gentle yet powerful presence of God. Then we become more that we could ever become on our own, filled with joy and purpose and ready to serve others.

Ask yourself in silence: Do I make time to “set myself out in the rain?” Am I willing to empty myself of my own desires in order to be filled by the Spirit of God?

Today’s Word: Watching

Steve · September 7, 2013 · Leave a Comment

Watching for the Other. SJG photo

“Vocatus Atque Non Vocatus Deus Aderit.” (“Bidden or not bidden, God is present.”)
– Dutch theologian, humanist and priest Desiderius Erasmus

What does it say about us that we spend our lives looking for something that cannot be seen? How many times have I said or written, “watch for the movement of God in your life?” Some might think it means I’m a little off my rocker, or perhaps that I’m well intentioned but, of course, dead wrong. Foolish. Sadly mistaken. In some ways, I guess I can see their point. I might be wrong, after all. Perhaps there is no God to be found. No God to be seen or present in our lives.

So why waste my breath or blog space talking about all this God stuff and God’s movement in our lives? Because I can fathom no other way of living a loving, creative life. Because this “God,” this “other” keeps showing up in my life and in the lives of those around me. Because — rooted in divine love and the example of Christ — we choose to live lives of faith, hope and love, lives that take us beyond ourselves and embed us in the love and grace of the unmoved mover and the giver of life. We choose life in Christ, we choose belief in God, because we know it to be true by our own experiences. We know it somewhere deep.

God is not just a good idea, created by humans to indulge and comfort us. Neither is God “out there.” God — bidden or not bidden — is here and now, and if we are watchful we will catch glimpses of the Other as we walk and work through life. So we slow down, we pay attention, and we wait for those fleeting, sacred glances that sustain.

Ask yourself in silence: Do I watch for God in my life? When did I last see God?

Today’s Word: Sustained

Steve · September 4, 2013 · 1 Comment

The egret goes down to the shore everyday and waits for the fish to come in. Its beady eyes pierce the sand and the foam and — quick as lightning — it plucks a minnow from the froth. Moving away from the waves so as to lessen the chance of escape should the prey be dropped, the bird manipulates and maneuvers the tiny fish in its beak until it finally tips its head back and swallows it whole. Then the egret goes back and does it all again. And again and again, answering some inner egret call, taught by a preceding generation of like-minded egrets. It does what egrets do and thus is sustained.

We, too, seek a shore that sustains. We search for an edge, a cusp that connects our world to the sustaining sea. Day after day we hunt and peck, hoping our efforts are not in vain, transfixed on an idea that there must be something meaty swimming in the froth of our lives, something that will get us through our days, our months and years. What we grasp there we must also judge. Is it what we need? Is it real and healthy or a piece of plastic that can harm? Both good and bad float in the foam. We need quick, discerning vision and even quicker movements that allow us to reach out and grab what the sustainer offers — something fresh, alive, whole and holy. Just what we need and nothing less or more.

Ask yourself in silence: What sustains me? What gets me out of bed and pulls me through my day?