Spirituality

Today’s Word: Awake

Steve · October 7, 2013 · 2 Comments

It’s been fun watching my grandson, Noah, wake up to the world around him. Just about five months old, we’ve watched as he’s grown from the “eat, sleep, poop” stage to a period of becoming more and more aware of the world and the people around him. To watch Noah smile in recognition of his parents or reach for the dangling and colorful object hanging above his head is a spiritual lesson. For whether we’re growing physically or spiritually, we must learn to pay attention.

American Catholic Bishop Robert Morneau once said, “Spirituality is easy to define: Just stay awake.” That seems simple but, of course, it’s not always. We can sometimes find ourselves going through life not so awake. Sleepwalking. We can navigate our days as if on autopilot, looking neither left nor right for the presence of God but only straight ahead toward the next goal, the next day on the job, the next deadline or headline. Remaining awake for and aware of the spiritual in our lives requires a willingness to stop and look around, to marvel at the shiny or colorful objects God plants in front of our eyes, to smile in recognition of the people and blessings we are given so freely. To live awake is to live in awareness that all is gift and that our lives are filled not with circumstances and coincidences but with miracles.

Ask yourself in silence: How wide open are my eyes as I walk through life? Do I expect to see God today? Do I expect miracles?

Today’s Word: Table

Steve · October 5, 2013 · 2 Comments

family — Family around the table. SJG photo

In the resurrection story of the Road to Emmaus (Luke 24) two of Jesus’ followers are walking on the road to Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, talking and worrying about all that had just happened. The resurrected Jesus joins them and asks them what the hubbub is all about. And they don’t recognize him. “Have you been living in a cave?” they ask him. “You haven’t heard about the teacher Jesus and how he was killed and now — and NOW — they say his body is gone.” Jesus reminds them of their teacher’s promise that he would rise again. And still they don’t recognize him.

It’s not until later, when he stops with them to share a meal, that their eyes are opened and they recognize him. When he breaks the bread, when he shares the table. Then they say, “I thought something odd was going on…were not our hearts burning within us as he walked and talked to us on the road?” This is the blessing of the table. Whether the table is the altar we gather around to celebrate the Eucharist with fellow believers or the dining table around which we gather to eat, drink and laugh with family and friends, the act of gathering around a common table can be a sacred, life-giving experience, a time of recollection and remembrance of all the graces in our lives. It is a time to enjoy the bounty of the earth, all the while recalling the numerous ways that God has insinuated himself into our lives without our even noticing.

Ask yourself in silence: When was the last time you felt your heart burning within you because you recognized the presence of God or Jesus in your life? How could your time with family and friends around the table be transformed into something more sacred?

Today’s Word: Unbelief

Steve · October 2, 2013 · 2 Comments

Foxtail weed at the end of summer. SJG photo

In response to Jesus’ statement, “Everything is possible to one who has faith,” the father of a possessed child in Mark 9 cries out: “I do believe, help my unbelief!” And with those words, perhaps not a more honest statement of faith has ever been spoken.

As a spiritual director, I have met with individuals who tell me that they are not sure they believe in God or that they have doubts in the divinity of Christ. Fair enough. In fact, a little disbelief or doubt on occasion might be just what we need to draw ourselves closer to God and see again with new eyes and fresh senses all that God has to offer. The opposite of doubt is not necessarily faith. The opposite of doubt may be a numb, mindless walk through life where we don’t stop to think about much of anything one way or another. That’s a sadder life that offers little chance to see the grace in the world around us. At least doubt says, “I’m not sure,” and perhaps opens the door to belief, especially if we’re willing to pray: “I’m not sure I believe in you but…if you’re there…help me out a little.” That’s faith, perhaps the size of a mustard seed, and it’s all we need. For that little nugget of faith helps us overcome our doubts, helps us to not be too overwhelmed by our disbelief. Faith is a gift, a chance to glimpse the sacred in an all-too-faulty human world. Faith allows us to embrace what we don’t understand, knowing that this “sacred ambiguity” nevertheless draws us closer to the mystery of God. What we need is just enough faith to ask for more.

Ask yourself in silence: Can I find belief in my disbelief? Do I have enough faith to ask for a little more?

Today’s Word: Known

Steve · September 28, 2013 · Leave a Comment

I realize I repeat myself on this particular notion perhaps a bit too often, but it lies at the very heart of my spirituality and I just can’t help it: God knows us by name. If not for this belief that we are known and loved — personally as well as communally as church — I’m not sure I could muster the energy to get out of bed and go to church, or read scripture or pray or care about the world around me. I realize plenty of non-believers care about the world and those around them, of course. But I can only speak for myself. Somewhere in the back of my mind there’s this voice that says, “You are mine,” and that’s what gets me out of bed, physically and metaphorically. It’s what gets me through both ordinary and extraordinarily rough days.

In John’s gospel (10:1-21) we hear the story of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, where Jesus is both the gate that keeps the enemy at bay and the shepherd who knows each and every one of his sheep and cares deeply if even one of them goes missing. Perhaps more crucially for us, we recognize the voice of the shepherd and will follow it wherever it goes. He says, “come here, sheep,” and we follow. Blindly follow? Not really. We know very little — simple, silly sheep that we are — but we do know what’s good for us most of the time. We follow the voice that says, “You are mine,” because it provides all we need. Our vision of God may — and probably should — change over time, but that voice that called us remains the same. And faith, Paul tells us in Romans 10:17, comes through hearing.

Ask yourself in silence: When did you first hear a call to believe, to hear Christ’s voice in your life? Are their other voices that drown out the gentle call of the shepherd?

Today’s Word: Well

Steve · September 27, 2013 · 2 Comments

“You do not even have a bucket and the cistern is deep…” John 4:11

When I was a child, we spent many weekends at a “country place” owned by friends. This was back in the 1960s and early ‘70s, and the simple cabin on 80 acres in Gasconade County, Missouri didn’t have indoor plumbing or running water. So if we wanted water, we had to pump it from the old red cistern well, a crank-type contraption that usually required eight or nine good turns before water would come flowing from the spigot. I can still feel the handle in my hands; can still count the turns in my mind. You had to go deep, but it was worth the work and the wait. The water was cool, fresh and clean. I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to fetch water on my own, for that was a sure sign that I was growing up.

In John’s gospel, Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well and asks her for a drink, even though he had no bucket in which to catch the water. This story is really about Jesus offering her “living water,” that will make her never thirst again, but within that story, for me, is this idea of the well as prayer, as a place that we must go as we mature in Christ, a place that takes a little work and some patience, a place that delivers Jesus himself, becoming for us both the water and the well, the sustenance and the source. We must go to this source often, armed with a bucket to catch the life-giving water that comes from deep within, left there for us to fetch by the giver, the creator, the spirit of life. Or if not a bucket, at least outstretched hands ready to receive.

Ask yourself in silence: How often do I go to the well? What’s keeping me from going deep?