The Other Face of Love

I just finished reading a great book – The Other Face of Love – by Miriam Pollard, a Cistercian nun. This is actually a sort of spiritual commentary on the “confessions” of Albert Speer (1905-1981), official architect of Adolf Hitler, hence the subtitle of Pollard’s book, Dialogues with the Prison Experience of Albert Speer. Speer was for a part of World War II, Minister of Armaments and War Production for the Third Reich. He accepted moral responsibility at the Nuremberg trials and was sentenced to 20 years in prison for his role in the Nazi regime, principally for the use of forced labor. He served his full sentence, most of it at Spandau Prison in West Berlin.

In Pollard’s spiritual hermeneutics the prison experience of Speer which started in 1945 was not simply a period of accepting punishment for the crime committed.  Spiritually, it was sheer serendipity: a time of redemption, re-creation, re-generation. Speer wrote on January 28, 1962, three years before his liberation: “I am writing this as a profession of faith: I believe in a divine providence; I also believe in God’s wisdom and goodness; I trust in his ways, even though they may seem matters of chance. It is not the mighty of the earth who determine the course of history. They think they are the movers, and they are moved.”

I think Pollard’s insight in reading and revealing God’s mysterious workings in the life of Speer is synthesized in these lines: “The best way of knowing our own beauty is by knowing God, whose image we are, and knowing him as mercy. This is the only way there: through knowledge of our own fragility and guilt to the acknowledgement of our own true majesty. If we try to short-circuit the awful part, the banality of our unresponsiveness, if we try to shove it and go directly to the pure center of our identity in Christ, we don’t make it. We’ve got this shadow in back of us, or moving in from the side and threatening to smother the glory at any minute. We can’t go to the beauty of ourselves without heading directly into that cloud (p. 63).

This is a perfect meditation book also during the Easter season. Find out for yourselves why.

Easter Gift - Shift of perspective

I think one of the greatest gifts of the Easter event is the shift of perspective. Consider Mary Magdalene. In her lifetime, before meeting Jesus, who was she looking for?  Herself? Her-SELF? HER-self?  

Same thing for most of us. When we look at a picture - group picture, family picture, whatever – chances are we will immediately scan the group and look for our face! If we are out of the country and we read the newspaper, or navigate the internet, or watch tv news, chances are we will search for something about our country, our town, our barrio, etc, etc, etc. 

For most of us, this is hard core reality: we are always looking FOR ourselves, if not looking AFTER ourselves.

Change of perspective came on the first Easter morn. The angels on the empty tomb asked Mary:  “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” (cf Jn 20:11-18)

Now, it is her Lord who is the center of her attention: Jesus – her life, her love. Now, she is ready to be sent – to be the Apostle to the apostles!  Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he had told her.

It’s Easter 2013! Are we ready to accept this Easter gift - this shift of perspective?

Providentially, the honored place of Mary Magdalene in the Christian tradition is upheld till now. By the empty tomb of Jesus in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, you will see at the right side, the Altar of St. Mary Magdalene (the photo above). This shortvideo clip will indicate to you the exact point where the Risen Jesus and Mary had their dialogue on that first Easter morn (note the pavement area where the monks offered incense).