Today's Word

Today’s Word: Enough

Steve · June 29, 2014 · 5 Comments

We seem to live in a world of “never enough.” That’s certainly what television, movies and advertising tell us. No matter how much we have, a little (or a lot) more would be better. We are told over and over (whether we think we’re listening or not): “You will never be truly fulfilled and happy until you get that one job, that one car, that one house. Then you’ll be happy and have all you need.”

Except it’s all a lie created to make us want even more. There’s no way out of that cycle of greed and “not enough” if we stay inside it. Those who create it make sure of that. If we’re not careful, if we don’t learn to find our “enough” in something that lasts, there will always be something knocking on the door of our hearts saying, “more, more, better, better.”

But we do, in fact, have access to enough. Henri Nouwen wrote that he often prayed a prayer of St. Teresa of Avila: “Solo Dios bastia.” (“God alone is enough.”) Praying these words slowly and out loud helped him enter into God’s presence, he wrote, “where there is peace and certainty that God is always with me and loves me.” (Nouwen, Discernment, p. 27). The whole text of Teresa’s prayer is:

Let nothing disturb you.
Let nothing frighten you.
Those who cling to God
will lack nothing.
Let nothing disturb you.
Let nothing frighten you.
God alone is enough.

Or, if you like your poetry a little more modern, how about these words from contemporary worship songwriter Chris Tomlin?

All of you is more than enough for all of me.
For every thirst and every need.
You satisfy me with your love.
And all I have in you is more than enough.

This is the call and challenge of the Christian life, to find in God — Father, Son and Spirit — all that we need, our daily bread and cup of sustenance. For our thirst and hunger for the “more” of this world can only truly be filled by the One who transcends all time, the One who brought all into being and continues to move and work among us.

Ask yourself in silence: What “enough” do I need to let go of so I can cling more firmly to the “enough” that God offers freely and completely?

Today’s Word: Fallow

Steve · June 22, 2014 · 13 Comments

Yesterday I shared with my spiritual direction peer supervision group that the last month or so I have experienced a lack of energy to do the things I really want to do. Following a period of intense prayer and productivity (I just finished a nine-month Ignatian 19^th annotation retreat and a graduate program in spiritual direction) I was experiencing difficulty and dryness in both prayer and writing.

At that point, one of my wise colleagues pointed out the need to “remain fallow” once in a while, to step back from even the best of things in order to replenish ourselves. When I looked up the definition of fallow, I was amazed at how well it matched my own situation:

Fallow: Plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility as part of a crop rotation or to avoid surplus production.

The truth is, I all too often equate my spiritual health with what I am “doing.” How many blog posts? How many pages in my journal? How’s that book project coming along? The planning for next fall’s retreat? These are all important things that need to get done, but they need to flow from my “down time” with God. They are the result of silence and prayer, not the source.

What I’ve come to realize is that it’s okay to not be productive for a while (and that’s a tough one for me). It’s okay to simply sit “fallow” with God in prayer, without agenda or even words, knowing that God is plowing and harrowing me, leaving me unsown in order to restore my fruitfulness at the time only God controls. God’s work, God’s time.

Ask yourself in silence: Do I need to make some time to just “be” with God?

Today’s Word: Plant

Steve · June 15, 2014 · 16 Comments

basil — Basil-pesto-pasta-party. All in good time.

As a child, I watched my father plant his annual vegetable garden in our backyard in urban north St. Louis. It wasn’t a big garden (perhaps 15×30 feet), but he went about the whole thing methodically and with a sense of hope for what the garden would bring. For that’s what planting a garden is all about – it’s about hope and faith, about knowing that when we plant a seed or put a small plant in the ground it will eventually become so much more.

I’ve never been much of a gardener, although something within me desperately wants to be. But about a month ago I planted a tomato plant and some herbs (basil and oregano) in containers on our back deck, the place we most like to spend time during the summer. And as I planted and watered, I realized that what I was most looking forward to was the feast – I looked ahead to that day when I would turn the basil into pesto, make one of my favorite pasta dishes, and then cut open a beautiful ripe tomato and garnish it with some fresh oregano. I saw beyond the plants to a table surrounded by friends savoring the meal. That’s the beauty of growing your own food, even on such a small scale. What we plant, we get to enjoy and share.

And so it is with all good things we bring into our lives. We get to choose these things. We decide what goes in our favorite places and how much time we will give them. But it’s our responsibility to choose well, to select things that bring long-term joy, that do no harm, that create life and shared experiences with others. On numerous occasions in the Gospels, Jesus uses the metaphor of the seed to remind us of all that is good and all that comes from him. The kingdom of God — which lives in our hearts right now and extends into our eternal future — is a seed that must be planted and cared for. It is the word of God and the body of Christ in all its forms (scripture, family, community, Eucharist) that lives and grows around us, moving us always toward a feast that we cannot quite imagine and yet continue to hope and long for.

Ask yourself in silence: What am I planting in my life that will lead to a feast?

Today’s Word: Gaze

Steve · March 16, 2014 · 3 Comments

We spend so much of our lives creating and maintaining the person that our friends, family and co-workers see. This is the “self” of our upbringing, education and career, as well as of the myriad of other roles we take on — parent, spouse, church member, little league coach, employee or boss or volunteer. This is the self that becomes what people say about us: Nice guy or jerk, selfish or generous, authentic or fake. This is, to a great extent, how we will be remembered when we’re gone. But who are we, really?

St. Ignatius suggests that we always begin prayer by becoming “aware of God aware of me.” Caught in this mutual gaze of adoration (for surely God adores us even more than we adore God), we begin to find our true selves. Aware of God’s gaze, we can have the confidence to be our true selves before God, taking off the masks that we often put on just to make it through our days in all of the different roles that we must play.

There is nothing wrong in playing roles. We have mortgages or rent to pay. We have family obligations to meet. We have passions to pursue. But all of these will fade with time and we will find ourselves alone before God, who cares little for our masks and greatly for our naked souls. So we must ask ourselves, to which of our selves do we give the most attention and time? Which of our selves do we feed most often?

If we’re not sure how to answer that question, we need to spend more time in God’s gaze. For only that time of solitude and prayer will remind us of our true selves, as writer and Franciscan priest Richard Rohr writes: “I am who I am in God’s eyes, nothing more and nothing less. This is the serenity and the freedom of the saints.”

Ask yourself in silence: How much time do I give to nurturing my true self that is held in God’s gaze? How much time do I give to nurturing my career and the rest of my life? Do I need to readjust my priorities in any way?

Today’s Word: Shaped

Steve · March 15, 2014 · 3 Comments

A few weeks ago, I visited Taroko Gorge National Park in Taiwan, a beautiful forest green and marble white region in the northeast part of the Island. The views were breathtaking, and on one of our stops I found myself staring down into the gorge near the area where the Laoxi River flows from the marble valley into the Liwu River. There, the unrelenting flow of the river cuts and shapes the marble and limestone ever so slowly, as it has for millions of years. It is this constant, slow force and flow that made and continues to make the gorge what it is, slightly different with each passing day and yet seemingly unchanged to even watchful eyes.

So, too, are we shaped and formed by the flow and presence of God through our lives. Like watching an infant grow, it is nearly impossible to see the distinct changes that are happening on a daily basis, but nevertheless we are being carved out of the stone of human existence, shaped by sacred waters into something beloved by the creator. This shaping happens whether we recognize it or not, pay attention or not, believe in the carver or not. We are shaped through no effort of our own for, despite what pop psychology might want to teach us, we cannot change our true, inner selves. We can play with our exterior, surface selves that the world judges to be “us,” but only the gentle, unrelenting will and grace of God can shape and change our true, inner selves. For we are not God, no matter how we have been changed by the divine power that flows through us. God re-creates us with each passing day, ever so slightly made less so that we might be more for others.

Ask yourself in silence: How has God’s presence and power changed my life over time?