Category: Christ

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Christ Divine Office Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Liturgy Resurrection Saints Scripture Uncategorized

Inspired by love.

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Today we’re celebrating the feast of St Catherine of Siena, Doctor of the Church. A third order Dominican she was a woman of both action and prayer. She took a public role in the life of the church, speaking out against schism, promoting unity and advocating for clerical reform. These words from her dialogue on Divine Revelation touched me:

“By your light you enlighten our minds… In this light I know you and I picture you to myself as the supreme good, the good beyond all good… Beauty beyond all beauty, wisdom beyond all wisdom. You are the food of angels, who gave yourself to us in the fire of your love.”

Her public activity was nourished and sustained by the prayer that kept her connected to the God who is the supreme good. It was because she drew her strength from the fire of God’s love that she gained the courage to speak truth to those in authority.

She speaks to me especially powerfully in these times when our world seems so consumed by war and suffering. In such times it can be hard to see the goodness, beauty and wisdom of God in our lives. It’s easy to get discouraged, to feel swamped by sufferings we can’t alleviate. We can be drawn to despair which stops us from acting at all or we can rush in, attempting to fix everything, ending up burnt out and exhausted.

St Catherine’s example suggests an alternative. We could begin by building up a prayer life that connects us to the fire of God’s love in a way that nourishes and sustains us in all of our actions and all that we are called to face.

How does the fire of God’s love nourish you in all that you face in life?

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Christ Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Monastic Life Resurrection Rule of St Benedict Scripture Uncategorized

The true vine

Image by Bruno from pixabay.com

In today’s gospel Jesus uses the image of a vine to explain the relationship between his Father, himself and the disciples:

“I am the true vine; you are the branches.”

It’s an image that we hear repeatedly in the Gospels. sometimes such images can become so familiar that they lose their potency. Sr Verna Holyhead gave me a fresh perspective on this:

“The vine is a radically non-hierarchical image of the people of God for all the branches are so intertwined that…it is almost impossible to tell where one branch begins and another ends.”

She reflects that this is a radically new way of thinking about relationship and community. It suggests a closeness and equality of relationship that treasures each member and the gifts they bring to the whole. It’s an image that works against our natural inclination to be independent, to look after ourselves first at the expense of others.

This reminds me of my favourite part of the Rule of St Benedict, chapter 72 where St Benedict tells his community they should:

“Support with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behaviour… No one is to pursue what the judge better for themselves, but instead what the judge better for someone else… Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and maybe bring us all together to everlasting life.”

His words highlight in a very practical way what a community based on this beautiful image of the vine would look like. They remind us that our goal is to come to Christ all together, not racing ahead and leaving others behind, but finding ways of supporting and encouraging one another on the journey, making sure everyone has what they need.

Even in these most challenging times we have choice and opportunity. We can choose to build communities based on the love, hope, trust, mutual respect and interdependence that the gospel suggests. While that choice is challenging it has the potential to bring us to new life in ways we could never have imagined.

As we move through Eastertide how does being intertwined with Christ shape your life and your relationships?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Resurrection Saints Scripture Uncategorized

Finding balance.

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As it’s the feast of St Mark I decided to look at Mark’s account of the resurrection. It’s the most disturbing, and it’s one I’ve tended to avoid. I’ve always been uncomfortable with his description of the women’s initial response to the news of the resurrection:

“And the women came out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and amazement had gripped them. And they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

I’ve always been puzzled by how Mary of Magdala, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome, who felt no fear, or who overcame their fear to stay with Jesus through his passion and death seem to run out of courage when they are faced with the good news of resurrection.

It’s left me thinking about the link between amazement and fear. Both of them can turn our worlds upside down, challenging everything we thought we could rely on, everything that is certain, sure and trustworthy. That is never something that we face willingly or comfortably, but it rings very true just now. Our world is very full of such situations just now as people face the horrors of war, increasing political and social uncertainty as well as serious economic hardships.

I find myself more understanding of the women in Mark’s gospel. who had to take time and space to calm their trembling and fear. I wonder what helped them to rebalance those two overwhelming emotions so they could rediscover the courage to go out and share the amazing news of the resurrection.

As we move through Eastertide where are you balancing amazement and fear in your life?

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Christ Cross Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Saints Uncategorized

Celebrating St George.

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These challenging times we live in incline us to build barriers that we can hide behind. They incline us towards protectionism, keeping ourselves safe at the expenses of others. The example of St George reminds us that, tempting as that prospect is, it’s hardly the call of the gospel.

As a Syrian in the Roman army who is patron saint of at least England, Russia, Ethiopia and Georgia St George offers us the opportunity to expand our horizons. He reminds us that our common humanity extends beyond borders and nationalities. He shows us that our hope lies in breaking down barriers, reaching out to the stranger, not in building them higher and excluding people.

He had the courage to stand up to the evil of his day, slaying the “dragons” of his times wherever he could. This offers us courage and hope. In our own times we face plenty of “dragons” unleashed the wars, migration, economic, social and political challenges.

I’ve revisited Malcolm Guite’s poem for the feast. I’m finding that these lines especially speak to me:

“Stand here a while and drink the silence in.
Where clear glass lets in living light to touch
And bless your eyes. A beech tree’s tender green
Shimmers beyond the window’s lucid arch.
You look across an absent sanctuary;
No walls or roof, just holy, open space,
Leading your gaze out to the fresh-leaved beech
God planted here before you first drew breath.”

Their image of hope reminds me that we’re still in Eastertide, celebrating the new creation that the risen Christ offers us. They offer me a place of rest and refreshment. They promise somewhere to rest from the struggles and challenges of these hard times, a still place to pause and draw strength before return to face the challenges again.

As we celebrate the feast of St George where is the living light of Christ piercing your heart?

You can read the whole poem here: https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2018/04/21/hatley-st-george-a-poem-for-st-georges-day-5/

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Eastertide Good Shepherd Gospel Lectio Divina Scripture Uncategorized

Good Shepherd Sunday

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As we celebrate Good Shepherd Sunday I’m reflecting this image from today’s gospel:

“The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

As Father Denis McBride’s reflects the Good Shepherd presents a model of leadership based on “physical involvement and self-sacrificial love.” The leadership of the Good Shepherd is inclusive; he abandons no one. He gently draws anyone who strays or is excluded back into the community.

This model contains a challenge for us, Fr Denis carries on:

“The good shepherd challenges our own way of leaving people for lost: “I have come to seek out and save the lost.” Probably all of us know two or three people who have lost their sense of belonging, who feel they have no community to belong to.”

His words raise the question of who we allow to be lost. The harsh circumstances that have become normalised in the past few years have pushed more and more people to the margins. Our modern way of living leaves many people excluded, marginalised, judged and excluded, both in society and in our churches.

The call of the Good Shepherd compels us to become aware of those people. It compels us to risk reaching out and finding ways of welcoming them back in, however uncomfortable and costly that might feel.

So this Sunday’s gospel comes with a very particular call to us Christians to look for those who are marginalised by and within our church communities. The Good Shepherd challenges us to seek out those people, asking what they need, showing them they are welcome and leading them back into the community.

As we move through Eastertide where are you being invited to reach out to those on the margins?

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Singing a new song.

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Today, I’m reflecting on yesterday’s second reading from the writing of St Augustine:

“We are told to sing to the Lord a new song. A song is a thing of joy and, if we think carefully about it, a thing of love. So those who have learned to love a new life have learned to sing a new song.”

Every Eastertide I’m touched by its tone of joy, hope and new life. In the midst of war and uncertainty across the world, it has an added poignancy. So much suffering and harshness don’t incline us to think about singing any sort of song, much less one that’s full of joy and hope. It’s tempting to brush it aside as too hard, too challenging for these dark times.

St Augustine wasn’t calling us to cover our pain with a sticking plaster, or to put on a brave face. He lived through times that were at least as challenging and as painful as ours. It’s from the midst of that suffering that he finds the courage to call us to sing this new song of joy and hope.

So I’m reflecting on what kind of new song we can sing in the midst of these troubled times. It seems to me that our new song has to have an element of lament. It has to allow us to grieve for all who are suffering in the world. It has to allow us to express the uncertainty of these times and the fear that engenders.

St Augustine points out that the reason for the joy and hope is love. So alongside our lament and uncertainty our new song has to carry something of joy and hope because it is based on love. Even in these hard and challenging times love still has the power to comfort, console and strengthen.

It can help us to bear what we thought would be unbearable and lead us through situations that seemed impossible. Whatever we have to face love, and the new life it offers, will sustain and support us, enabling us to find ways to heal our broken world with love’s new song.

What is the new song the Lord is calling you to sing this Eastertide?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Resurrection Scripture Uncategorized

Recognition

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This Sunday we get another opportunity to revisit the Emmaus gospel as the disciples from Emmaus tell the other of their encounter with the risen Christ. I’m glad to revisit a story that is so full of riches that it always offers us something new to reflect on.

I imagine these disciples wearily trudging along the road despondent and hopeless, feeling that they have lost everything. It is in this low state that Jesus appears to walk alongside them. As they share their hurt and hopelessness, he offers an alternative vision of all they’ve been through. Gradually, as they listen to him, their perspective shifts. Some small spark of recognition is kindled in their hearts, which compels them to invite Jesus to stay with them when they reach home:

“They pressed him to stay with them: ‘it is nearly evening’ they said ‘and the day is almost over.’”

On the surface their invitation expresses concern for a fellow traveller, on a deeper level it’s an expression of a glimmer of recognition that recognises Christ in this stranger they’ve encountered. Full recognition only dawns when they sit down to eat and Jesus blesses and breaks the bread:

“He took the bread and said the blessing, and then he broke it and handed to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognised him…”

Jesus stays with them throughout their journey, unfolding the truth gradually and gently, challenging but never forcing, moving at a pace they can cope with. If we allow him to the risen Christ will accompany us as we walk through life, a gentle, challenging presence that stays with us whatever highs and lows we experience.

Where do you experience the reality of Christ walking alongside you in your life?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Scripture Uncategorized

Stormy waters

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Today’s gospel with it’s unexpected and disturbing storm reflects the disturbing times we’re living in. It makes it easier to identify with the disciples at the end of a long and tiring day. I imagine them longing for rest and the opportunity to process some of the strange events they’ve witnessed over the previous days. As darkness falls and they climb into the boat they must have been hoping for a quiet, peaceful crossing to Capernaum.

It wasn’t to be, as they get further from the shore the wind and the waves get stronger and a storm blows up. They find themselves buffeted on all sides as wave after wave threatens to overwhelm their small boat.

Struggling to control the boat they see Jesus walking towards them across the water. Initially his appearance seems to do little to help their situation. The strange sight of him walking towards them over the stormy lake only increases their already mounting fear. Then Jesus speaks to them, and everything changes:

“It is I, do not be afraid.”

His words offer them consolation and calms their fears and they reach the shore safely. As we face our own stormy times we too need to hear Christ’s voice calming our fears and assuring us that, with his grace we will come through our storms.

Where do you need to hear the risen Christ calming your fears today?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Scripture Uncategorized

Working with Christ

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Reflecting on John’s account of the miracle of the loaves and fishes I’m struck by how Jesus involves the disciples in what he plans to do. I’m sure Philip thought it was crazy to be expected to feed such a large crowd. Andrew was uncomfortably aware that the five loaves and two fish were not going to go very far with such a crowd. Yet, having trusted Jesus and followed his instructions they witnessed the miracle of everyone getting what they needed:

“Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks and gave them out to all who were sitting ready; he then did the same with the fish, giving out as much as was wanted.”

Jesus didn’t need to involve his disciples in this. As is so often the case in John’s Gospel Jesus knows exactly what he’s going to do. Instead he chooses to invite them to work with him to meet the needs of the people, regardless of their lack of understanding.

He shows them, and us, a model of discipleship based on collaboration and sharing. He wants his kingdom to be a collaborative one where people share their gifts and talents freely with others. He wants no one to be without, and no one to be overburdened by having to meet every need by themselves.

In our own challenging and often brutal times he invites us to work with him and with those around us to continue building his kingdom today. He challenges us to use our limited and often meagre resources so that no one is left without the basic necessities of life.

Where is the risen Christ calling you to work collaboratively with him today?

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Benedictine Spirituality Christ Discernment Eastertide Gospel Lectio Divina Scripture Uncategorized

Overshadowed by love.

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Today celebrating the transferred feast of the Annunciation I’m struck by the mixture of calm, serenity, and chaos that it portrays. It’s generally depicted in art and literature as a beautiful moment of calm encounter between Gabriel and Mary, between heaven and earth, leading to Mary’s act of obedience.

That is certainly one aspect of the gospel, but as I reflected on it today I’m very aware that there is also another side to it. The news the angel brings to Mary must have been both surprising and overwhelming to a young, unmarried woman who was not expecting to become pregnant.

It must have seemed to her that she was facing at best a challenge and at worst a disaster. Yet in the midst of the upheaval she was able to find a way through the chaos to say yes. I’m especially struck by the angel’s response when she asks, “How can this be?” He replies:

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…”

His words take me back to the Spirit hovering over the waters at Creation drawing life out of chaos. That’s a comforting image image in these times when so much of our world seems to teeter on the brink of chaos. As we face a myriad of challenges and uncertainties this image offers hope and encouragement. I find it helpful to remember that however chaotic our situation the Spirit hovers, overshadowing us and promising new life.

Where do you need the Spirit’s overshadowing in your life this Eastertide?