Feast of the Holy Family

If the Solemnity of Christmas exalts God’s coming down from heaven to dwell among us, today’s Feast of the Holy Family honors the human context in which our Lord Jesus was born. It lauds Joseph and Mary, two normal persons who, in their attentiveness to God’s word and in their intelligent discernment, were able to cooperate totally in fulfilling God’s design.
The Gospel proposed today, Mt 2:13-15, 19-23, portrays the figure of Joseph, always in a state of discernment, always “in communication” with God “through dreams” that is, through the inner workings of his consciousness. What needs to be done now that Herod is in search for the promised Messiah, where to go next now that Herod was dead, where to settle down with his family. One very striking thing I learned meditating on this Gospel is that Joseph did not practice blind obedience. He was told to go back to Israel, to the land of Judah. But where exactly? Bethlehem? Jerusalem? Should the boy grow near the temple if he were to serve God throughout his life?
I attended the mass today at the Caravita community and the preacher supplied an insight which I found very interesting. Joseph had to discern like a normal father; he had to take stock of his life, see what work he could do in order to sustain his family. He was a carpenter and where could there be more opportunities for work but in Nazareth, his and Mary’s hometown (cf. Lk 1:26-27). He has his workshop there, he has all the community support.
Attentive listening to God’s word, yes, but also openness to the whole complex situation of life: I would like to believe that this is among the most important virtues that both Joseph and Mary passed on to Jesus in the process of his human growth.
There is one last point in the homily I heard today which left me reflecting further. Still on the theme of family, the priest briefly asked the community to pray for couples who after being “in-love” become disillusioned; they break up, part ways. He asked, “what could have gone wrong there?” Perhaps the fact that they didn’t grow enough to be loving persons. How true, I think: being “in-love” is the point of entry into a potential life-long relationship but if the relationship does not help each person to grow and become more “loving” (the ideal here is 1 Cor 13:1-13), it probably won’t last. What a goal!

The Challenge of the Creed

I attended the conference of Fr. Timothy Radcliffe, OP last night at the Centro Pro Unione here in Rome. His topic was The Challenge of Reciting the Creed Today. I braved the winter cold not so much because of my interest on the topic but to find out if Radcliffe was an engaging speaker as much as he is an excellent writer. With some of my friends, we have agreed that good authors are rarely good speakers too. And I need to admit, yes, he really is good in both. His approach is positive, practical and challenging.
What remained with me of his hour-long exposition? Three things: 1) To say, “I believe in God the father almighty, creator of heaven and earth…” means recognizing the gratuitousness of life and creation, and in response, awakening and nurturing a deep sense of gratitude for everything that is. 2) To say “I believe in Jesus Christ, the only Son of God…” is to delight in the mystery that God chose to be human like us, and in response, to keep up the struggle of exploring and understanding the intelligibility of life and of our world, despite all the darkness surrounding us. 3) To say, “I believe in the Holy Spirit…” is to enter deeply into the meaning of our relationships and realize that the love that binds us together is the very love that flows between the Father and the Son. The Holy Spirit is not “an additional person” in the Trinity.
Two things that touched me: 1) the example of Fr. Shigeto Oshida, a Japanese Dominican priest and Zen master (deceased last November in Takamori). Fr. Shigeto, preached the retreat to the Bishops of Asia once and he started it by asking the bishops to go out into the field and plant rice! Yes, there was plenty of resistance, of course. But just the same he made them do it, so that they may realize that they are simply “collaborators” in the plantation of the Lord. They can start, but it is God who brings forth the harvest. 2) the Christmas greetings of a child who wrote his granddad (Radcliffe’s brother): “Granddad, I love you very much, more than I love God!” The comment of Radcliffe to this, associating it to the third part of the creed is – “I’m sure God won’t be jealous; because the “love that is more” comes from God himself – the Holy Spirit!”

Was there anything that challenged me? Radcliffe’s answer to the question that came from us—the audience: What about the last part of the Creed – “I believe in the one, holy, catholic church…?” Smilingly, he admitted that he didn’t say anything about this for the simple reason that his time was up! Anyway, he admitted that that was a tough question because many say they have no problem with God, Jesus and even the Holy Spirit. But they have problems with the institution! And sadly, he admits, our Church is getting more and more monolithic. By itself, institutions are good and necessary. But the challenge is how to keep them open, creative, not monolithic! My dictionary says “monolithic” is “massive, rigid, totally uniform!”

Spe Salvi (Saved by Hope)

Pope Benedict’s new encyclical, Spe Salvi, is a very stimulating read, not only because of its easy, engaging style but more because of the relevant questions it poses. For instance, the Pope makes us reflect, “What may we hope? And what may we not hope?” In numbers 22-30 of the document, he confronts head-on the promises of modernity – specifically the issues of progress and science.
He tries to re-define progress and re-connect it to other values such as morals and freedom. He says, “we must acknowledge that incremental progress is possible only in the material sphere. Here, amid our growing knowledge of the structure of matter and in the light of ever more advanced inventions, we clearly see continuous progress towards an ever greater mastery of nature. Yet in the field of ethical awareness and moral decision-making, there is no similar possibility of accumulation for the simple reason that man's freedom is always new and he must always make his decisions anew. (…) The moral treasury of humanity is not readily at hand like tools that we use; it is present as an appeal to freedom and a possibility for it.” (SS 24)
He challenges us to see to it, “that every generation make its own contribution to establishing convincing structures of freedom and of good, which can help the following generation as a guideline for the proper use of human freedom” (SS 25). And the Pope does not only talk to modern society; he also makes a kind of Christian self-criticism: “we must also acknowledge that modern Christianity, faced with the successes of science in progressively structuring the world, has to a large extent restricted its attention to the individual and his salvation. In so doing it has limited the horizon of its hope and has failed to recognize sufficiently the greatness of its task—even if it has continued to achieve great things in the formation of man and in care for the weak and the suffering (SS 25).

What then may we hope? The Pope simply puts it this way: “It is not science that redeems man: man is redeemed by love. This applies even in terms of this present world. When someone has the experience of a great love in his life, this is a moment of “redemption” which gives a new meaning to his life. But soon he will also realize that the love bestowed upon him cannot by itself resolve the question of his life. It is a love that remains fragile. It can be destroyed by death. The human being needs unconditional love. He needs the certainty which makes him say: “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8:38- 39). If this absolute love exists, with its absolute certainty, then—only then—is man “redeemed”, whatever should happen to him in his particular circumstances."
In conclusion, the Pope beautifully summarizes this hope: “This great hope can only be God, who encompasses the whole of reality and who can bestow upon us what we, by ourselves, cannot attain. (…) God is the foundation of hope: not any god, but the God who has a human face and who has loved us to the end, each one of us and humanity in its entirety. His Kingdom is not an imaginary hereafter, situated in a future that will never arrive; his Kingdom is present wherever he is loved and wherever his love reaches us. His love alone gives us the possibility of soberly persevering day by day, without ceasing to be spurred on by hope, in a world which by its very nature is imperfect. His love is at the same time our guarantee of the existence of what we only vaguely sense and which nevertheless, in our deepest self, we await: a life that is “truly” life. (SS 31)

To read further, you can go to the vatican website.

Advent Saint

Today is the liturgical memorial of St. John of the Cross, an “ideal saint” for the Advent season of waiting for the longed-for Messiah. For one like me, who at times, prefers the “dark night” rather than the glare of the noonday sun, St. John of the Cross serves as a teacher: how much can one learn from “dark nights” that is, from suffering, from the purifying fire of life’s ordeals!
I hope you enjoy this poem, the first of a five-part poem of St. John of the Cross

Stanzas Of The Soul
1. One dark night,
fired with love's urgent longings
- ah, the sheer grace! - I went out unseen,
my house being now all stilled.

2. In darkness, and secure,
by the secret ladder, disguised,
- ah, the sheer grace! - in darkness and concealment,
my house being now all stilled.

3. On that glad night,
in secret, for no one saw me,
nor did I look at anything,
with no other light or guide
than the one that burned in my heart.

4. This guided me
more surely than the light of noon
to where he was awaiting me
- him I knew so well -
there in a place where no one appeared.

5. O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united
the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.

6. Upon my flowering breast
which I kept wholly for him alone,
there he lay sleeping,
and I caressing him
there in a breeze from the fanning cedars.

7. When the breeze blew from the turret,
as I parted his hair,
it wounded my neck
with its gentle hand,
suspending all my senses.

8. I abandoned and forgot myself,
laying my face on my Beloved;
all things ceased; I went out from myself,
leaving my cares
forgotten among the lilies.

Advent Resolution

This is my personal resolution during this season of Advent as I ask the Lord to purify my heart and make me ready for the coming of his Son. I received this piece through one of my sisters from Ireland and I thought it’s worthwhile sharing it here.

Dance With God
When I meditated on the word Guidance,
I kept seeing "dance" at the end of the word.
I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.
When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.
The movement doesn't flow with the music,
and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.
When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,
both bodies begin to flow with the music.
One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back
or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.
It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.
The dance takes surrender, willingness,
and attentiveness from one person
and gentle guidance and skill from the other.
My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.
When I saw "G: I thought of God, followed by "u" and "i".
"God, "u" and "i" dance." God, you, and I dance.
As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust
that I would get guidance about my life.
Once again, I became willing to let God lead.

I am a very willful person that is why this prayer is very helpful to me.
I hope it goes the same for you.
May we all allow God to lead us in the dance of life as Mary our Mother did.

Advent of the Heart

This Advent reflection was prepared by Sr. M. Necitas, a PDDM sister in Hongkong who assists overseas workers in the growth of their spirituality through the liturgy.

"Advent of the Heart" - I try to relish the inner dynamics of God's heart as he makes his journey of "fetching us back home" in the mystery of his Incarnation. It is a journey of love and an advent of the heart, his and ours. Every step is brought about by different symbols opulent with meaning and vitality.

1. The Tent: symbol of binding and loosing and of a life that caters to what is essential. The tent always directs us to the road and to a journey. It is a call to leave "my land and country" and go to God's unknown land. It is God's first call to intimacy. If you obey, the "blessing" comes. (Cf. Abraham’s story in Genesis 12ff) This call finds echo in our day to day human relationships. If we find value in a relationship, in moments of challenges and crisis, we let go and let loose, only to experience greater and deeper binding with each other.
2. The Land: symbol of holding, grounding and nourishing. God has always a place for us in his heart. He makes this entire journey just to reach our heart. The land is not meant to be possessed but to be used for our own fulfillment in him. Land is where we exercise our being co-creators with God in the use of God-given talents through activities of freedom and responsibility. Every activity in this land is meant to be an opportunity to let God penetrate the expanse of our lives. In this second call to intimacy we are challenged to obey, to surrender to the path of God even as we travel along arid, desert, and shadowy land.
Our temptation is to go back to our own slavery where everything is just set before us without practicing any sense of responsibility and freedom. We are comfortable that way even as others dictate and manipulate us. We can't make a stance of whatever state we are in. We are reduced to slavery. Relish the wrestling of Israel with her God who wants to draw his people to him and lead them to a land rich with milk and honey (cf Genesis 32:25ff).
In human relationships conflicts and confrontation need to take place, so that one’s greatness, the expanse of one’s heart and its capacity to love may emerge. At this stage the love-journey makes itself dependent upon the other, the "beloved," and thus, goes beyond borders and limits. (Cf. Israel’s journey in Exodus 15ff).
3. The Temple: symbol of the glorious and majestic dwelling place of God. God comes closer and closer in his intimacy with us; God-love wants to dwell in the "beloved." He continues to immerse himself in our own drama of sin where he turns out to be a shepherd in the valley of darkness only to bring us back to himself. “Shadow lines,” that’s where God makes us feel his love even closer. Here, God’s deeper compassion emerges; we are overwhelmed and we attempt a loving response. We wish to make for God a house made by our own hand so we could be close to him (cf 2 Samuel 7:1-13). God opposes: only he can make his own temple. The temple comes in the person of his Son. In the journey of human relationships, now and then the temptation to possess comes to us that is, to let the "loved one" ever dwell by our side. Every temptation is an opportunity for a greater response of surrender to our Maker. We must move on to the next part of the journey.
4. The Womb: symbol of capacity to receive and surrender to the work of God. So God found the human person able to cooperate fully to his plans (cf Luke 1:26-38). In her flesh, Mary gives birth to the Son of God. As she participates in the growth of her Son, from the womb to adulthood she too grew and matured in total identification with her Son. Filled with hope even beneath the cross, surely again and again, she allowed herself to be challenged by the initial announcement of the Angel to her - “Do not be afraid.” She is the Mother of the Son of God. He lives. Her faith is eventually confirmed. With her we move on to the next station.
5. The Heart: the center of humanity is the heart. At this stage God, the lover, humbles himself totally tobecome dependent upon us. Such is the greatness of God. He goes and pleads for our yes, deep in our heart. The Creator appeals to his creature. Here is the climax of the call for greater intimacy. Will I hearken and make an option for this God who makes himself so little, so poor, making himself a slave for us?
6. The Crib: yes, see the people around: who are they, surrounding the Word-made-flesh? The poor, the shepherds, (and later, in his public ministry) the lame, the blind, the oppressed. We too are there. The crib draws us again to our heart to pose this question to us: Am I that poor and available to my God, present in every person who knocks at my door asking for my time, my listening heart, loving attention?
In this time of preparation for the birth of the Word-made-flesh, the Son of God, may we all enter into the mystery of God's compassion and relish the inner dynamics of his heart.

Preparing for the "Immaculate"

Let me share here a beautiful poem on the Annunciation by Denise Levertov. May this help us enter into the mystery of Mary's courage and serve as a preparation for the coming Solemnity of the Immaculate (Dec. 8).

We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,

the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.

But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.

The engendering Spirit

did not enter her without consent.

God waited.

She was free

to accept or to refuse,

choice integral to humanness.

**********

Aren’t there annunciations

of one sort or another

in most lives?

Some unwillingly

undertake great destinies,

enact them in sullen pride,

uncomprehending.

More often

those moments

when roads of light and storm

open from darkness in a man or woman,

are turned away from

in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair

and with relief.

Ordinary lives continue.

God does not smite them.

But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

**********

She had been a child who played, ate, slept

like any other child – but unlike others,

wept only for pity, laughed

in joy not triumph.

Compassion and intelligence fused in her, indivisible.

Called to a destiny more momentous

than any in all of Time,

she did not quail,

only asked

a simple, 'How can this be?'

and gravely, courteously,

took to heart the angel’s reply,

perceiving instantly

the astounding ministry she was offered:

to bear in her womb

Infinite weight and lightness; to carry

in hidden, finite inwardness,

nine months of Eternity; to contain

in slender vase of being,

the sum of power –

in narrow flesh,

the sum of light.

Then bring to birth,

push out into air, a Man-child

needing, like any other,

milk and love –

but who was God.

This was the minute no one speaks of,

when she could still refuse.

A breath unbreathed,

Spirit,

suspended,

waiting.

**********

She did not cry, "I cannot, I am not worthy,"

nor "I have not the strength."

She did not submit with gritted teeth,

raging, coerced.

Bravest of all humans,

consent illumined her.

The room filled with its light,

the lily glowed in it,

and the iridescent wings.

Consent,

courage unparalleled,

opened her utterly.

Spe salvi

Pope Benedict XVI just published his second encyclical. This time it's about Hope, Spe Salvi.

I'm halfway through it and I'm thinking of sharing my reflections on it later.

Meanwhile, here's one concrete sign of hope in modern Ireland. Read on http://www.westmeathindependent.ie/story.asp?stID=1128

Advent attitudes

Today, December 2, the First Sunday of Advent, the Church begins a new Liturgical Year.
Advent literally means “coming” but in church language (and tradition) it has more than a “futuristic” nuance. It rather brings together three moments – the past, the present and the future. How could that be possible? It’s because this “coming” is not so much as time-framed as it appears. It is rather conditioned by a person – our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who has come, who is ever present and who will come at the end of time.
That’s why the main attitude that the Church asks of us in this season is vigilance – keep watch, stay awake, or in our highly psychological age, we say, live consciously. (cf http://crossings.org/theology/theolo641.htm)
I’d like to suggest another attitude which could help increase our awareness: contemplate! One author suggests (Msgr. Gianfranco Ravasi, I think): consider the root of this word: temp, as in tempo or temple or temperate or temporary. A temple is a holy place, measured out. To contemplate is therefore to mark out a measured space, a temple, and thus to survey or look attentively or consider carefully. From this, in Christian use, contemplatives are people who see the hand of God as they survey the order of the world, while at the same time, finding within themselves their own due measure and achieving a temperate balance – avoiding extremes, sensitive to and respectful of differences, attentive to the what goes on exteriorly and interiorly.

It will be good to awaken then this sense of contemplation in us as we enter the Advent season. And to complete it, we need to focus on the center of this Advent and Christmas contemplation – Jesus Christ:
A man, like all others, marked by limits of time called birth and death,
characterized by spatial, temporal, linguistic identity
and yet, different from all others because,
in him time is eternal,
his space embraces every height, width, depth
his words never end,
his works are of God,
his love is infinite,
his humble birth - a cosmic revelation,
his death – life for all.

May our Advent contemplation and Christmas preparation reach the “central point” of this season and more, may this new Liturgical Year, bring us into a new intimacy with Christ-living-in-us.