Spring is only three weeks away, but it’s hard for me to believe it will ever come. I suppose, we have a right to be skeptical as temperatures continue to toggle between winter and spring and forecasts of possible snow always seem to loom in our future. Yet, somehow the world around us knows what we don’t see, or perhaps refuse to see. There is more light as daylight lengthens; the lawn, despite the cold, shows some signs of green in response to the light. The birds have once again begun to sing; they know the light, and ignore the cold. Yet I, layered in warm clothing, watch out my window as the woodpecker drills holes in my Atlas cedar, and extracts the rising sap. He knows what the light reveals. And what about the crocus struggling under remnants of not-yet-melted snow, making its presence felt in response to the light. It knows despite its icy blanket. Yet I question and wonder, can it really be spring?
In our Gospel (John 9:1-41), John presents Jesus as the light in the darkness, calling forth life. And as evidenced by the world outside my window, all life springs from the light as it lengthens in the world. In this ambivalent month: warm one day, cold another, the light warms the soil and calls the seeds to come to life. March knows instinctively what we find hard to believe.
We can deny the season but we cannot deny the light’s return. Seeing is believing…right? In our gospel, Jesus restores a blind man’s sight. Yet, the Pharisees are unwilling to accept what they see, and ask a barrage of questions: can he really see; is this the same man; ask his parents if he was born blind; how did Jesus open his eyes? What more can the man say; he was blind, Jesus gave him sight and now he can see. Still not wanting to believe what they have seen and heard, the Pharisees drive the man away…out of their sight.
Perhaps the unwillingness to believe in the obvious may seem an exaggeration by John to make a point, but is it? Sometimes, despite what we see and hear, we find it difficult to let go of what we think we know. The inability to let go and put our egos aside is part of our human condition. It can be argued that believing and understanding are the province of the intellect, while knowing is an intuitive part of our being. We know air, we don’t believe in it. So, what does it take for his light to penetrate and our hearts to open and to just let go without question? Isn’t it curious how all of nature knows the light and responds without question, and we can’t let go of winter and open our eyes to the light?
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart
At first glance, there appears to be two disparate, unrelated tracks in our reading (Luke 13:1-9) 13:1-9): tragedy and gardening. But no doubt, Luke is making a point and no doubt the two tracks are in some way related.
When tragedy befalls people, innocent people and what we might euphemistically refer to as good people, our way of making sense of the world can be sometimes shattered - emotionally, spiritually and physically. How often do people relate the catastrophic events of our world and lives to “divine punishment” for some misdeeds? In recent weeks, our readings enabled us to develop an appreciation for both Jesus’ divine and human natures. With regard to the latter, Jesus knew all too well that the temptation to yield to our human nature and surrender to evil was strong. Our colloquial use of the word repent is more closely associated with punishment for wrong doing. So, using tragedy as a means to justify punishment might be considered by some as a means of exacting repentance. I don’t believe that this is what Jesus meant when he repeatedly warned, “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” While it may include sorrow and regret, I believe that repentance (metanoia) is more a call to conversion from self-love, self-trust, and self-assertion to obedient trust and self-commitment to God. It is a change of mind that involves a conscious turning away from wrong actions, attitudes and thoughts that conflict with a Godly lifestyle and it is an intentional turning toward doing that which pleases God. Of interest, the words "repent," "repentance," and "repented" are mentioned over 100 times in the Bible. (Stagg, Frank. New Testament Theology).
OK, so while we might suffer human pain for tragic events such as Katrina; the tsunami in Japan; Hurricane Sandy and the plight of refugees seeking asylum in Europe…we are not being held to blame. We are, however, being summoned to keep our eye on the prize and continue to turn our lives to seeking a closer union with God as we live in the love of Christ.
So, where does gardening fit into this gospel? The virtually dead fig tree that consumes valuable earthly resources and personal time seems hopeless. Yet it may still be worth trying to save. It may require amending the soil and nurturing it as a means to encourage new growth, erstwhile dormant. We are all gardeners as we work at sustaining life even when it requires the extra effort to turn it around.
So often we fall into the trap of assuming that spirituality involves becoming who we inherently are not. That is not true. God does not expect more from our humanity than for us to be that which we were created to be. So in keeping with the gardening metaphor, let’s use this Lenten season as an opportunity to dig around the roots of our lives and refresh our soulful soil so that we might be open to God’s word and his will for us. And as for our human failures and hurts, in the spirit of renewal and going forward, let them become compost for today’s growth.
Do you remember when you first felt an undeniable prompt that called you to pursue a goal or an activity? I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to God's voice. While reference to "a calling" is commonly associated with clergy, we don’t often consider that we’re “called” to a career or a secular vocation or even volunteering. But, why not? I pose this question because the story of the Transfiguration (Luke 9:28B-36) reminds us to listen to and look for God’s will in all we do. And just like the spectacular events of the transfiguration blinded Peter, James and John, we too can be distracted by the “noise.”
The scene moves very quickly as Peter in all his excitement is eager to do something to acknowledge this transformative event even before he knows what he has seen or what has transpired. We feel like saying to Peter, "Would you please be quiet and just listen before you do anything!" While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”
Maybe everything started to become clear and make sense to Peter as he saw, listened and heard the word of God. But as we know too well, it didn't last very long. How many times did Jesus remind Peter of his destiny? Peter may hear but is he really listening?
Perhaps Peter's transformation comes about when he repeatedly fails, falls, and is lifted up again. We too try our best and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. We too have moments of insight and moments of denial. We too, fall down in fear and are raised up again to go forth in confidence. Isn’t this the pattern that shapes the lives of every Christian?. Don’t we identify with Peter? Don’t we see ourselves in this story? This story is as much about Peter and Jesus as it is about us as we are asked to listen and to hear his voice and know God’s will for us.
In these past weeks Luke has called our attention to Jesus’ humanity in which we share a common bond. In this week’s gospel, Luke reveals Jesus divinity. Just as we share in Jesus’ humanity, we also share in his divinity. We must listen as we are called during this Lenten season if we are to be transformed and called to be disciples of Jesus and to be the people of God.
“There have been quite a few times when I have felt the winds of God’s grace in the sails of my small boat. Sometimes these graces have moved me in pleasant and sunlit directions. At other times the requested acts of love were born in the darkness of struggle and suffering. There have been spring times and there have been long cold winters of struggle for survival. God has come to me at times with the purest kindness, at times with the most affirming encouragement, and at other times with bold frightening challenges. I think that all of us have to watch and pray, to be ready to say “yes” when God’s language is concrete and his request is specific-“yes” in the sunlit spring times and “yes’ in the darkness of winter nights.” (John Powell, S.J., The Christian Vision, The Truth That Sets Us Free, p147)
There are questions we answer with our lips, and those we answer with our lives. Lent is an important part of our journey. Each step we take has been walked at one time in the gospels. We know that this our spiritual journey begins in the desert and leads us to the cross and to a tomb and “ends” with Easter, where our journey to God begins again. In our readings for next Sunday, (Luke 4:1-13) the first Sunday in Lent, we are told that “Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.” What do these temptations or tests mean to us in our lives today?
I have been fortunate to have travelled fairly extensively in my life, both for business and pleasure. Admittedly travelling is one of my passions, although in recent years I am more selective about my destination with regard to the risk to benefit associated with where and why I am travelling. Is the payoff worth the sacrifice?
Over the years I have observed that there are two types of journeymen. I would categorize these as being either tourists or travelers. The tourist travels through his journey in comfort, ensuring that his experiences are familiar and safe. He makes sure that he takes “his stuff” from home with him. There are many vendors along the way who, for a price, would be willing to accommodate the tourist’s expectations and satisfy his needs, most of which are likely superficial and soon forgotten when he returns home armed with photos, souvenirs, and pleasant memories.
On the other hand, a traveler is one whose goal is to enjoy the journey as part of a total experience in which the destination is just a part of a continuum. He travels to open his mind and spirit to new experiences and perhaps into the unknown in the hope that something new will be learned and revealed.
A few years ago, we decided to take a trip to Alaska; however our goal was to experience it as up close and personal as we could, requiring that we leave our “comfort zone” and all the attachments of our lives back home. In addition to there being no cell phones, internet or TV, our accommodations were less than Spartan. While this was a far cry from the way we customarily travel, it was one of the most enjoyable trips I’ve ever taken. We were living as if absorbed by the journey… in the journey, completely focused on the experience and unencumbered by distractions.
Jesus’ time in the desert somehow relates to our journey as a traveler leaving our comfort zone and sharing the food we have, instead of waiting for stones to be turned into bread. If our quest is to meet God where he is, we may have to find Him in strange places, among strangers. As an act of faith, and like Jesus, we place ourselves in God’s hands and surrender to his will by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Yes I know it’s February and Christmas is a distant memory, and while I love the holiday, I’m glad it’s all behind us and we are well into the New Year and closing in on Lent. So then why do I choose to use what many consider a Christmas classic, It’s a Wonderful Life as a segue to our gospel, (Luke 5:1-11)? In this reading we are reminded that Jesus is not talking to what we might consider leaders in the community…the people with power, money and authority. Jesus is talking to the common man and in words they will understand. He tells them that as fishers of men, they possess the ability to transform the world.
So what does this have to do with the movie? How well we have come to know the story of George Bailey, a struggling businessman whose dreams and aspirations are shattered as his life gets sidetracked by unintended consequences. I wonder how many of us can relate to unplanned events in our lives that have taken us far afield from our life’s plans. As we look back don’t we often wonder how different life would have been if unintended consequences had not intervened? The movie reminds us that everything that happens has consequences and that everyone in some way relates to one another.
There are two scenes in particular that reminds us that in some small way we are a force for change, although sometimes we don’t recognize it. In a discussion that George has with his father during dinner, the very evening of his father’s death, George condescendingly rejects any notion of following his father’s footsteps and take over the bank someday. His father tells him, you know, George, I feel that in a small way we are doing something important. Satisfying a fundamental urge for a man to want his own roof and walls and fireplace, and we’re helping him get those things in our shabby little office. And while not in his plan, George does follow in his father’s footsteps.
The other scene comes as George, a victim of unintended consequences and on the brink of despair, wonders if his life was all worth it. His “guardian angel,” Clarence shows and tells him that every man’s life touches so many other lives, and when he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?
We all know people who by their very presence have made us better persons just by being in our lives. How many, we wonder, have touched us without our or their knowledge. These are “Godly” people.
Truly Godly people are the ones who make a difference everywhere they go, although unintended consequences may prevent them from even knowing that they have. Somehow, they always seem to be in the right place at the right time and doing the very thing that is most needed at any given time. And the difference between Godly folks and everyone else, is that they try to live life as Jesus did by loving God the only way they can…by loving each other. We are not alone; we are not insignificant; we are loved, cared for and intended for wonderful purposes. It truly is a wonderful life.
