Friday, December 26, 2014

Experiencing God 198 - Growth

In January of last year, Archbishop Gérald Lacroix of Quebec and Primate of Canada, electrified the airwaves during an interview with this statement:

“I have a lot of hope for what is growing in our Church. There’s something dying, but there’s something new that’s coming up, that’s growing, that’s sprouting, that is filling me with hope”. 


Often, in the past, when it came to Spiritual Growth, I began with the anticipation of a quick change. After all, we are talking about God are we not? If God wants to change me, then He can certainly do it, quickly.

But if we examine things closely, we discover that, for most, change is not instant. Change happens through a process of slow growth. So if you don't noticed a quick detectable change, don't be alarmed.

I invite you to ask yourself a few simple questions. Are you experiencing a greater understanding of God? Do you feel closer to God? Are you gentler in dealing with yourself and with others? Through your discipline of daily prayer, do you experience being closer to Christ?

These are some of the signs of change; and you can be assured of further change as you continue to follow through on a discipline for continual growth.

Growing up on a farm gave me first-hand knowledge of this slow steady growth. Nature is a great teacher. The seeds that we planted in early spring took weeks before they could be visibly seen as new young shoots. It would be weeks more before they we big enough to be hoed, and it would be months before they could be harvested. All the change happened without our really seeing it happen.

In 1978, some 35 years ago, I began the process of discernment and formation towards becoming a Deacon. I was in process because I had limited knowledge and experience about what it was to be Deacon. Between then and now, much has happened; many experiences, many retreats, many ministries, much personal development. I am no longer the same person I was back then. Everything has changed, but I am still as much in the process of growth as I was back then. Growth requires of us to be always in that stance of further growth, so that we continue with our development until a time of harvest.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 13, we read: “Jesus puts before his disciples a parable. “The Kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in a field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown, it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches”. The Kingdom of heaven that Jesus is speaking does not lie in some far off place. It lies within you. It lies within the expanding heart of every person who is turning to Christ, who is being transformed and re-created by His all-pervasive Spirit. This is why it is so important that the Kingdom within us remains open to growth, open to be nourished by God’s love through Sacrament and Prayer. As God’s Kingdom comes alive within us, we embrace with awe and wonder an expanding vision of God and His plan for us as a part of His creative process.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Let's pretend that you see a chart which describes the process of spiritual growth. Note that the arrows on the chart are going from left to right as you face the chart. The left side of this chart is marked “Unrelatedness with God”. The right side of this chart is marked “Relatedness with God”. The arrows indicate the direction that is necessary for spiritual growth. If we are growing spiritually, then we must be moving in the direction towards greater relatedness with God.

All of us fall somewhere between these two realities. We are all on the bar. Where we are at this particular moment in time is of no importance. What is important is the direction we are going. Do you experience your spiritual growth moving you in the direction towards greater relatedness with God?

Note the list of qualities that you see under each of these two headings. The ones of the left are illustrative of some of the qualities that we are trying to move away from. The list on the right is some of the opposite qualities we are moving towards. If we are growing spiritually, we are moving away from selfishness and towards unselfishness, we are moving away from self-centeredness towards other-centeredness. We are moving away from isolation and alienation towards a spirit of openness and community, and so on. You can add more to this list. For example, if we are growing towards greater relatedness with God, then we are moving away from slavery towards greater liberty and freedom as God’s Children.


As God’s Kingdom comes alive within us, we embrace more and more the awe and wonder of His expanded vision for us, His plan for us as a part of His creative process. Spiritual growth is being open and receptive to the workings of the Spirit within us. But there is one thing we have to realize.

The movement from unrelatedness to relatedness with God is not possible under our own power. Jesus says: “I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in them will produce abundantly, but apart from me you can do nothing.” This movement to greater relatedness with God is only possible through the love of God that is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit.

In my mid-twenties, I had discovered within myself a deep dissatisfaction of life. Despite that fact that I was succeeding in many of my goals (in my accounting career, my family, in acquiring the things I wanted), something was radically missing. I felt empty when it came to love and relationships. As a result, I experienced being isolated and alienated from others. And there seemed to be nothing I could do to dispel the feelings that came from this. In my search for an answer, I decided to get more involved at church. I began to teach catechism, joined the parish men’s group, and I become part of a prayer group. It was there at the prayer group, on a cold November evening during a time of prayer that I let go of my fears, and in tears, turned to Jesus and asked Him for help. It was as if the walls of my alienation and fear washed away, and I experienced, for the first time, Jesus love for me, so strong that the structures of my well planned life were shaken. A few days after this, I was reflecting on the scripture of Jesus walking on the water towards his fearful disciples sitting in their boat, hanging on for dear-life. I heard Jesus’ call to me as well. Len, Do not be afraid. Take courage, I am with you. Come, step out of the boat, and walk towards me.

This left me with no doubt as how I had to respond. Jesus was calling me, to step away from a way of life where everything depended on my efforts and the false illusion of security it provided, and to step into the waters of uncertainty. Jesus was asking me to begin a journey towards greater relatedness with God.

I share this experience reluctantly because it was only a beginning of the long journey that was to follow. Each of you have had your own beginnings in faith, in which God has worked through your own unique circumstances and experiences. No two encounters with Christ are the same. But there are commonalities in the journey we take. First, is the recognition of those areas in our lives that are in need of change; our self-centeredness, our clinging to attitudes and ways that prevent us from growing in holiness, whatever they may be. And secondly, to place these areas of our lives before the Lord, cry out to Him for assistance, and allow His healing grace to move us into greater relatedness. Only through Christ the vine, and our connection with Him, will we realize our full potential.

Everything that followed in my life from this initial encounter were the integral parts of a life’s journey that has led and continues to lead to greater relatedness with God: commitment to daily prayer, retreats, participation at mass and in church, being part of faith sharing groups, the response in service. This way of life has been necessary to continue the growth towards God that only comes through faith and a gradually submission to Him.

My recommendation to you for growth in faith is only that. Do what you must, do what you can to remain close to God. Come to mass, celebrate Christ’s presence with the community of faith, and be nourished by His presence in the Eucharist. We pray in many ways. Pray in a way that unites your Spirit to His. Service plays itself out in many different forms. Find that activity that draws you into relationship with that abundant source of Life that is available to all.

Groups of many types are available to stimulate your growth as Christ’s disciples. Find the group which fires up your spirit to live a life that is joyful and abundant. Practice sharing your time and resources, for this builds a spirit of generosity that draws you close to the one who wishes to share with you ultimate joy and abundance. The three fold actions of prayer, fasting and alms giving are important in that they give witness to our lives built on Christ. But they are also there for another reason. They are there as a discipline to help us break the roots of our own insecurity, our excessive attachment to pleasure and comfort, so that we may enter into greater relatedness with Christ.

I conclude with another quote from Archbishop Gérald Lacroix. In that same interview that I mentioned as the beginning, he said: “Bringing people to a personal encounter with Jesus Christ changes their lives because it brings them into a relationship with the Lord, with God our Father, with the Holy Spirit. And this changes everything.

Only this gives them a new vision of life, a new vision of values, and a new vision of family and community. It helps them to be different in the midst of this world so much in need of healing, so crying out to be saved.”

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Experiencing God - 197 Shining in our Darkness

In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet in the way of peace.
Gospel of Luke

We are all familiar with the story of Job from the Old Testament.  Job was a very successful man in every way. But he lost everything; his property, his family including his children, and finally, even his health.  Job is a story about a man who had a complaint against God for taking away everything he had of value.  He did not see this as fair because he was a just man, undeserving of such losses.

The story concludes when Job is humbled by God's reply to him:  "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?  Tell me, if you have understanding.  Who determined its measurements -- surely you know?  On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together, and all heavenly beings shouted for joy?"

The story concludes with Job coming to a new understanding of his relationship with God; humbling but filled with awe and reverence.  "I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me which I did not know."  The story concludes with Job's prosperity being restored.

From the book of Samuel, we find King David in somewhat of a similar but opposite situation.  David is sitting on the throne of success.  He has defeated his enemies, he lives in riches, surrounded by family and friends and untold wealth; and in his grandeur, he wants to return something to God.  "I am living in a house of cedar while the Ark of God dwells in a tent", he says.  

As with Job, David has to be reminded that it is not his plans that determine a place for God, but it is God's plans that determine a place for him.  And God's plans reach far beyond David's puny moments of success.  It reaches far beyond his knowledge and understanding.  It is a plan that includes countless future generations of peoples and nations.

In the Gospel of Luke, we hear the beautiful canticle of Zachariah, the father of John the Baptist.  "In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet in the way of peace." We begin to gain some insight into the plan that Nathan the prophet revealed to King David many centuries previous. 

Like Job and King David, do we still not live our advents with the view of fitting God into our plans for Him, instead of understanding that advent is really about the fulfillment of God's plan for us?  

God appears to us only as we put ourselves in right relationship with Him.  Job came to that understanding when he admitted:  "I have uttered what I do not understand; things too wonderful which I did not know".  King David understood this when he heard God's voice speak to him through the Prophet:  "Are you the man to build me a house to dwell in?  I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep"?  

Do we not understand that God's plan for us this Advent can be found in the sign of a child, a successor of David, one called Emmanuel - God is With Us -- born in a stable because there was no room for Him in the inn.  This advent, are we busy fitting God into our plans?  Do we still live in a world that does not have time for God's unfolding mystery and plan for us: to shine on those who live in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet in the way of peace?    

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Experiencing God - 196 Seeing Things As They Really Are

“I am not the light. I am not the Messiah.  But I am a witness to testify to the light”
Gospel of Luke

For the last two weeks of advent, we have been hearing a lot about John the Baptist and his role in announcing the coming of Christ.  The question I asked myself as I was preparing this homily is: “How can these gospel accounts about John the Baptist help us in our own understanding of advent?”  Perhaps I can begin with a story that I read a couple of months ago that continues to be a source of reflection for me this Advent.

There once was a young man who wanted to become a monk in a near-by monastery.  But he had a problem.  This particular monastery followed a strict spiritual discipline and rigid ascetical practices.  And this young man was considered by many in his community to be a little slow, undisciplined, and at times, a little clumsy. But he decided to try anyway; so he placed himself under the direction of the Novice Master at the monastery to begin the required formation.  After two months, the Novice Master was called in by the Abbott of the Monastery to see how the new young recruit was doing.  The Novice Master told the Abbott that he was not doing well.  He was having great difficulty in learning the rule, and was undisciplined in following the required practices.  In fact, he told the Abbott, for the previous two months, he had assigned him the daily task of cleaning the dirt from the sandals of the monks as they entered the prayer room, and sweeping the dust from the floor.   As a result, he recommended that the young man be dismissed.

 The Abbott, being a compassionate man, asked to speak to the new recruit.  When he arrived, the two spoke, shared a few stories.  Finally the young man expressed the difficulty and struggle he was having in formation, but still affirmed his desire to become a monk.   The Abbott gave him some direction.  “From now on, when you clean the dirt from the sandals, and when you sweep the dust from the floor, I want you to say to yourself:  I am removing the obscuration so as to be the beloved of Christ.  

And what do you mean by obscuration, the young man asked the Abbott?  An obscuration is anything that prevents you from seeing things are they really are, replied the Abbot.

So the young man agreed to try this new discipline.  At first, every now and again, he would forget what he was supposed to say.  And he would meet with the Abbott for a refresher, but soon he was pretty good at following this basic instruction, and he carried it our faithfully every day as he did his task. 

Six months later, the Abbott called the young recruit in for another meeting.  He asked him: “Have you been cleaning the dirt from the sandals?”  Yes, was his quick response?  “Have you been sweeping the dust from the floor?”  Again, yes was his quick response.  “Have you been removing the obscuration so as to be the beloved of Christ?”  

There was a long silence as he pondered this question. Then suddenly, like a light bulb coming on, a bright smile broke on the young man’s face as his mind was awakened as to what the Abbott was trying to teach him.  He suddenly realized that the sandals, even with the dirt, were still sandals:  That the floor, even with the dust, was still the floor.  And that he, even with all his limitations, those things he saw as impairing him, his weaknesses, his faults, his warts; he was still the beloved of God, and loved by Christ.

Soon there-after, the young man was initiated into the community as a monk.  As time would later show, he became the best and most loved of all the monks.  At time, he would chuckle to himself when others teased him about his slowness, or when he was a bit clumsy. But with the birth of his special insight, this awakening in his heart, he was able to see, in a new way, all those people who entered the doors the monastery for the first time.  No matter what their position, no matter what situation in life, no matter what their difficulty or struggle, he saw them as the beloved of God, as loved by Christ, and he welcomed them, every one of them, as Christ himself. 
Perhaps the greatest obscuration that people face today when it comes to advent, and when it comes faith practice, is that we often fail to see things are they really are.  We fail to see that no matter what our impediments and warts, no matter what our limitations, no matter what our station in life, no matter what we have done, we are the beloved of God.  We are loved by Christ.  If we can free ourselves from this obscuration, then like the monk in the story, we will discover who we are before God; we will discover God’s perfect plan for our lives, and the gift that is ours to share.

John the Baptist was able to see things as they really were.  “I am not the light”, he said.  "I am not the messiah. I am here as a witness, to testify to the light”.  What is this witness to the light?  I like what Archbishop Mancini had to say about this when he presented the building blocks for the new evangelization.  He compared the witness to Christ to a witness in a court case.  He said that a witness is not the judge.  A witness is not the arresting officer.  A witness is one who gives testimony as to what he or she has seen, what he or she has heard, and what he or she has experienced. 

 During the early years of my Christian journey, in my mid-twenties, I went through a time of what I call a critical introspection. I thought that to be a better person, I would have to root out all the things I didn’t like about myself: my shyness and introversion, my aloofness, my dark thoughts, my selfish tendencies.  All of this introspection did very little good.  In fact, it made me feel worse about myself, until that moment when my mind and heart was awakened to that deep realization that I was God’s beloved, that I was loved by Christ.  It was not just an intellectual thing, but a heart-felt experience; a experience that changed the course of my life.    

Advent, this beautiful season of our church year, is here as a reminder that first and foremost, we are being called to give birth to Christ in our hearts.  When we give birth to Christ in our hearts, then all our feeble attempts at trying to find fulfillment through our own efforts begin to die away, and through Grace, we become the person that God intends us to be.  We are not the light, but we become witnesses to the light found in Christ.

Grace means one thing – to be thankful, to be filled with gratitude, to overflow with the light that is given to us as gift. The other readings for today speak of this so beautifully.  The reading from Isaiah is not just meant for Isaiah, or for Christ.  It is meant for us:  “The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me.  He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.”

The beautiful “magnificat” found in our responsorial psalm is not just a prayer for Mary, but is our prayer as well:  “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savoir, for He has looked with favour on the lowliness of His servant.” 

And St. Paul’s prayer in his letter to the Thessalonians is not just for Paul.  It is again our own advent prayer of thanksgiving:  “Brothers and sisters, rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

Advent is not about turning ourselves into super people. It is not about perfectly having all our plans in place in order to meet the illusionary expectations of what we feel Christmas is all about.  This is only an obscuration.  Like the young monk is the story, Advent is about giving birth to Christ in our hearts, recognizing that we are the beloved of God, and becoming grateful witnesses to Christ’s indwelling Spirit. 

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Experiencing God - 195 Removing Our Mourning Veil

"On this mountain, the Lord will remove the mourning veil covering all peoples and the shroud en-wrapping all nations.  Death will be destroyed forever." 
Isaiah

Scripture's most beautiful imagery can be found in our Advent readings from Isaiah.  The time of the above reading was around 740 BC.  Judah, the southern kingdom of Israel finds itself in a "life and death" struggle against its own people to the North.  These beautiful scripture readings of Isaiah were written during difficult moments when brother was fighting brother on the battle field.  

Isaiah is an artist with words.  He paints a tapestry that touches the hearts of a troubled people.  It's a tapestry that touches our heart even today in the midst of our own struggle. 

I remember, not too long ago, when I was a part of a "Celebrating the Word" group.  Twelve of us gathered to share the Sunday scripture readings.  

The producer of the "Celebrating the Word" program always asked soul searching questions.  One I remembered was: "What is heaven like for you, or how would you describe heaven?"  We would then go around the room and each person would identify something from their own hearts as to what heaven was like for them.  And each person would offer something unique that added to the picture that would eventually emerge.  

We need images such as this because they restore our hope and bring us in touch with a reality that is often in conflict with our day to day experience and struggle.  They express something much deeper, at the level of the heart, that take us beyond the surface of our own existence.  

Jesus in the Gospels is doing much the same thing, but He is doing it differently.  He creates a tapestry for us through the actions of His life.  

We read in the Gospel of Matthew: "Jesus sat on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and crowds came bringing the lame, the blind, those without speech, and many others. These they put down at His feet and He cures them."  

Through these biblical accounts, we see the tapestry of Jesus' actions beautifully laid out before us, not only offering us hope, but challenging us to live differently in order to see and build up God's Kingdom.  

This painting of God's tapestry with words and actions is not unfamiliar to us in our Christian faith. In fact, our Archbishop has done this in his recent Pastoral letter called "Lord, Where Are You Going". In conclusion, I have quoted a paragraph from this letter as it relates to mission and community. 

Mission
The mission to which we are presently being called is to effectively do, in our times and in our world, what Christ came to accomplish.  Christ's mission is to proclaim a vision of life and a hope for humanity, revealed in a culture of personal encounter, and experienced in relationships of self-sacrificing love.  This is presently counter-cultural.  The challenge is to take seriously the proclamation of an alternative way of being and living, which can touch the heart of humanity, and do it consciously and deliberately through commitment and action.

Jesus spoke about the "Kingdom of God" using terms that were relevant and understandable in him time.  Now, we need to present the same concept in our own language and context, by speaking in terms of achieving a better world.  We need to speak of a world where the truth and reality of God is not an idea, a philosophy or a political agenda, but where the truth of our Trinitarian God is founded on the personal experience of being loved; where love is a choice, a decision and a deliberate action, not just a feeling or wishful thinking.

Community
To speak of rebuilding our Church is not to speak about repairing, reconstructing, or even maintaining what we had; nor is it about repeating what we have always done. That Church has largely disappeared.  If we are going to interact with the present world, we need to be there.  We need to develop the skills, the discernment and the mentality that lead us to see, recognize and acknowledge God present in all circumstances.  This is the formation of heart and mind needed to bring about engaged communities of Christian faith.

A community is not something perfect or only for the elite who qualify.  Think of your families and friends: They all have communities to which they belong because they are welcomed and accepted.  If your sons and daughters are not perfect, you don't reject them; you don't stop loving them.  If there are points of disagreement, you learn to cope with them.  With such attitudes and qualities, dynamic Christian communities can and must become centres of welcome, providing opportunities for conversations and invitations for accompaniment on the spiritual journey, where people and their needs are respected and discernment is encouraged with time and patience.