Ash Wednesday: Lent

Greetings,

Since I have been unable to maintain this site, I want to offer a link to Loyola Press' Ignatian Spirituality Website, a great online Lent Retreat. Give it a try!

http://ignatianspirituality.com/lent/seven-weeks-for-the-soul-ash-wednesday/

The Kingdom of God

In the Gospel of the day, Jesus begins his public ministry proclaiming that the Kingdom of God is near at hand...

Mk 1:14-20
After John had been arrested,
Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the Gospel of God:
“This is the time of fulfillment.
The Kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”

As he passed by the Sea of Galilee,
he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea;
they were fishermen.
Jesus said to them,
“Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
Then they left their nets and followed him.
He walked along a little farther
and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John.


They too were in a boat mending their nets.
Then he called them.
So they left their father Zebedee in the boat

along with the hired men and followed him.


If I am not mistaken, there is a profound connection between Jesus' experience at his baptism, where he is claimed by the Father as the beloved son, and the meaning of what he calls the Kingdom of God. Imagine the way you feel when you are told that you are loved by someone for whom you have deep regard, respect, and affection. There is a sense of feeling like all is right with the world, that you want to live worthily and be generous in response to that love-- not only in the relationship with that one person, but with everyone. Isn't there a sense when we are in touch with that kind of love that everything else in our lives becomes relative, so that our lives are no longer driven so much by our desire for material security, success, or prestige, but rather, we desire to live in the service of that love.

Perhaps I am pushing this a bit and may sound overly idealistic, however, I hope that when you take deep stock of the importance of the love relationships in your life, and the impact that loves makes on you, that you know what I am talking about. I believe that for Jesus, the experience of his Father's love is all this and more, and that he wants to invite all of us to experience the same love in a direct manner.

This is where the call to repentance comes in...because so long as we live our lives in a pursuit of anything else, we will miss the entrance to the Kingdom that lies before us. We need to let go of the attachments that we base our sense of identity and value upon, and rediscover the true identity of Christ within ourselves-- as God's beloveds.

The Baptism of the Lord

First things first: it has been far too long since I offered a reflection here, and for the better part of Advent, I wondered whether I would be able to sustain this blog as a regular commitment. Sadly, just as the church calendar calls us into a more quiet, reflective stance as we prepare for Christmas, the academic year goes into overdrive making December very, very hectic. But I missed this as a spiritual practice in that the work of crystalizing and expressing reflections based on the liturgical readings, or other seasonal texts, is a sort of soul sustenance for me. It also helps me to stay honest about my prayer, and remain rooted in the liturgical cycle, as well as the wider world of the church. So, apologies to you if by any chance you count on such things for your spiritual life too! While I do intend to occasionally include postings on other topics, especially leadership, I am going to make a concerted effort to keep up with the spiritual themes.

Today as you may know is the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, and unlike the rest of the secular materialist world, which was ready for the end of the Christmas on the 26th of December, whereupon it began to focus on New Year's Eve, for the Church today is the actually the official conclusion of the Christmas season.

Our gospel reading from Luke struck me today. I enclose it below and will offer a brief reflection...

Lk 3:15-16, 21-22

The people were filled with expectation,
and all were asking in their hearts
whether John might be the Christ.
John answered them all, saying,
“I am baptizing you with water,
but one mightier than I is coming.
I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.
He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

After all the people had been baptized
and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying,
heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove.
And a voice came from heaven,
“You are my beloved Son;
with you I am well pleased.”

There are really a number of things that struck me today as I meditated on this reading. First, I don't know that I ever noticed that in Luke's version, it is after Jesus has been baptized by John and while he is in prayer that he has the experience of the Holy Spirit coming upon him, and that he hears this profound, divine affirmation that he is God's beloved one. In Luke's gospel, Jesus is portrayed praying at key moments, usually by himself in a quiet and remote place. Here, he must have been on the bank of the river Jordan, perhaps near the crowd of people that gathered to hear John's preaching and to be baptized. I can only speculate, but this event must have had unique and momentous importance in the life of Jesus. It is described as occurring on the threshold of his "hidden life," the period of time between his birth and his late twenties or early thirties, and his "public life" of itinerant preaching, miracle work, and teaching. While other people came to John for a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of their sins and as a way of beginning to reform their lives in anticipation of the messiah, for Jesus, whatever his intentions might have been, he experienced the baptism as "theophany," a revelation of God, and specifically, as an experience of being chosen, blessed, and soon, being sent by his Father. And perhaps, most importantly, the chief quality of his experience of his Father is not fear, but of being loved... literally, that he is beloved by the Father.

I know that all this might seem very obvious, but I think that the emphasis on God's love as the foundation of who Jesus is and everything he does is essential. Whereas John the Baptist's preaching is foreboding, even angry, and suggests that God is waiting with fiery judgment for those who stray from the law, this is not Jesus' experience. In fact, though he does condemn recalcitrant sinners who refuse to change, Jesus goes out of his way to demonstrate that God's love is overflowing and abundant, available to all who turn their hearts to God's ways. Strangely though, I think that many church's, the Catholic Church included, tend at times to embrace John the Baptist's God, rather than the the Loving Father of Jesus. For some reason, people are drawn to a God who thinks and judges in black and white terms, rather than the Father who lovingly cherishes sinners even before they repent.

May we all come to know the Loving Father of Jesus and ourselves as his Beloved Ones.

A New Year's Blessing from a Fellow Jesuit

A New Year Blessing

During our Advent preparation for Christmas we sought God’s aid that we grow in the hope that God’s promises to us would be fulfilled. Now in the flush of enthusiasm for this New Year, 2010, we seek God’s assistance to be close to us on the road of these fresh adventures in faith:

Lord God, help us now to realize more deeply that you are not far off, but near, that you speak to us in our own tongue, that you touch us through the hand of men and women like ourselves.

You have called us your own, your chosen ones, and we place our trust in your word.

Stay with us and give us your peace. May we never be afraid.

We pray for people of all ages, for all who young and old belong to each other and go through life together, that we may care for and respect each other.

We pray for all children, for all among us who are defenseless and small--that nothing may harm them,that we may lead them to know the truth.

We pray for our young people whose lives lie ahead of them, that we may go forward with open and receptive minds to meet their future, that they may learn to accept themselves and not lose heart, that they may respect the past, be faithful to their friends and unselfish in love, ready to make this world a better place to live in.

We pray for those in the prime of life, that their lives may be fruitful and seek the welfare of others.

We pray for the elderly, that they may stay young in heart and put their experience to good use in the service of others.

We pray for ourselves that young or old we may constantly be made new by your grace, Lord our God.

We place these requests before you knowing that you will hear us.

We pray for peace and truth, that your will be done at all times in us, from day to day through Jesus Christ. Amen.

Fr. David Casey, S.J., Chaplain to the Alumni

On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception

Eph 1:3-6, 11-12

Brothers and sisters:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who has blessed us in Christ
with every spiritual blessing in the heavens,
as he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world,
to be holy and without blemish before him.
In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ,
in accord with the favor of his will,
for the praise of the glory of his grace
that he granted us in the beloved.

In him we were also chosen,
destined in accord with the purpose of the One
who accomplishes all things according to the intention of his will,
so that we might exist for the praise of his glory,
we who first hoped in Christ.

Advent: an Invitation to Slow Down, Be Still, and Pay Attention

Today I have been waiting for news from an old friend who expected to give birth today... I had performed her wedding to her husband, Tom and baptized their first baby, Ciaran. She went into labor this afternoon!

For me, the fact that Deirdre is giving birth today helps me to focus my thoughts on Advent, this season of spiritual preparation for Christmas. While it is my favorite liturgical season, these four weeks of expectation, with themes of God's promises, of the call to awaken and be watchful, of focus on the role of ordinary people called to play extraordinary roles in the history of salvation, it also is such an incongruous time as well. Incongruous because the circumstances of our lives and of the commercial holiday season seem to militate against the core themes and meaning of Christmas. I don't know about you, but it is hard to settle down into those deep things, the mystery and meaning of it all, when we are rushing headlong into the stress and anxiety of exams, of upcoming holidays, of sometimes stressful times with family... Do you know what I am talking about?

This is why I love Lessons and Carols, because it opens up a window for us to breath in some of that mystery, to help draw us into the mood and meaning of this season. To gather as Christians have gathered for hundreds, even thousands of years to sing ancient hymns and recall this story.

The fact that Deirdre is giving birth today somehow brings this season into perspective... that what we prepare to celebrate is new life, new hope, even the future itself. And I think about the way that Deirdre and her husband, Tom have been preparing themselves... how Deirdre became not just a physical vessel for this new life to take shape over these nine months, but how their relationship, their love, and their openness to the future was also a spiritual vessel in which this baby is being born today.

Maybe that physical and spiritual preparation to give birth and welcome new life is a good analogy for what each of us is invited to do in Advent. And maybe it would help to get specific.

A few weeks ago when I was talking to Deirdre on the phone, she was sharing how in these last few weeks, feeling really heavy and uncomfortable, she was sometimes not have energy to do much more than slow down, become still, and pay attention to what was going on within her. Slowing down, becoming still, and paying attention.

I imagine that Mary of Nazareth did the same, and that at times when she did slow down, become still, and paid attention, what she became aware of was the life of God within her, the tiny movements and kicking feet and elbows, the heartbeat of Christ within her.

I've come to believe that this is what Advent is about for me... an invitation to slow down despite the fact that the rest of the world seems to speed up these next four weeks. An invitation to become still, like the stillness of snow falling in dark empty streets, stillness and silence that is somehow anything but empty. An invitation to pay attention, because in that stillness there is a fullness that is nothing less than the presence of the Divine One, the Christ, within me.

I know, it might seem some more familiar, maybe even safer to give into our nostalgia and to focus on a quaint little creche scene where the baby Jesus rests a hay-filled manger surrounded by warm golden light. And we can worship him, and maybe pause a moment to consider the awesome mystery of the Incarnation because it happened so very long ago, in fairy tale time, in way off distant place.

But much less safe, and maybe even terrifying and wonderful, like the birth of a child, there is the one we are called to bear into the world, the real living Christ, who desires to be borne into the consciousness of our minds and hearts so that we grow into his own image through the lives we live in this world.

Slowing down, becoming still, paying attention... to the Christ who waits to be borne within each of us.

And incidentally, as I checked my email just now, greetings and peace to baby Eamonn Ignatius Ryan, welcome to the human race!

A few thoughts on the Apocalypse... and Advent

That's an understated title, isn't it? You may be wondering what I'm doing focusing on the Apocalypse today, especially in the holiday season... I mean, Thanksgiving couldn't have been that traumatic, right? Right, I actually had a really good Thanksgiving with my family, not to mention a rather tasty turkey (I discovered brining!).

I am thinking of the Apocalypse for a few reasons. First, have you noticed some of the hysteria these days in anticipation of the end of the Mayan calendar in 2012? Consider Roland Emmerich's widely panned movie, the film adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's bleak post apocalyptic novel, The Road , not to mention the threatening prophecies that Jesus utters in the last few chapters of Luke's gospel prior to his crucifixion in Jerusalem-- (the readings of the past week's liturgy)it's all a bit foreboding to say the least. A month or so ago, I had to take a taxi cab in NYC (talk about feeling like it was going to be the end of the world!) and when the driver saw that I was a priest, he became very serious and asked if I believed all the things written in the book of Revelation. It seems that there is something of the end-time anxiety in the air these days... and in fact, perhaps reassuringly, this has been the case at turning points throughout human history.

As a matter of human nature, individually and collectively, it easy to become overwhelmed by what appears to be the bad news... violence, poverty, hunger, the deterioration of civility let alone virtue. While there may be more than a proportional number of constructive, altruistic, and compassionate acts performed on a daily basis to offset the destructive ones, these will rarely grab the headlines. Thus, we will rarely have the benefit of such stories to inspire and edify us... indeed, we have to go out of our ways to hear and pass along such good news. Unless we have a natural, buoyant optimism, or perhaps more importantly, a deep store of faith, it is natural that we become preoccupied with the things that we fear... and thus we search for meaning and some compass for our uncharted lives in the unfolding of history. We long for someone or something to save us personally and collectively.

If I am not mistaken, this is the source of what we might call the apocalyptic imagination, the hope for all this deterioration and decline to be stopped and reversed by a Divine act that punishes evil doers and rewards the just. Implicitly, the apocalyptic imagination relies on dualistic, either/or thinking to create clarity and certainty out of very complex and ambiguous realities. While there is some evidence to suggest that Jesus himself employed some of these images, and there is a rich biblical tradition of such images in the apocalyptic literature of the scriptures I am going to suggest that we be very careful, discerning even, in what we do with such images.

It is true that the power of apocalyptic metaphors, for people of faith at least, is not that they inspire fear and trembling, but rather, that they reaffirm a profound confidence in God's providence, wisdom, and judgment. In essence, they affirm that as dark as things become, and however much we are suffering in the short term due to our acts of integrity and compassion, that God has the future in God's own Divine safekeeping. Thus, we persevere in faith, hope, and love despite the adversity we experience... we hold fast and stay steady in unsteady times. This is a very, very important and valuable message, and one worth respecting.

At the same time, in much of the apocalyptic clamor, whether in the popular media or in the sometimes reprehensible fear mongering in pulpits, there is not so much a call to faith and conversion as there is to infantalizing dependence on demagogic preachers and to a condemning judgment of others. This is simply not the work of the Holy Spirit. And what's more, it is subverting precisely the kind of transformation, personal and collective, that the apocalyptic literature is meant to inspire.

It is no accident that as the ordinary time of the church year comes to a close, we recall Jesus' final journey to Jerusalem prior to his death, and come face to face with predictions of cataclysm that reflect our deepest fears and concerns for the future. On this threshold of Advent, the season of spiritual preparation for the celebration of Christmas, the urgency and foreboding of the apocalyptic literature are not meant to scare us straight so much as inspire us to hold fast in faith that God is a God of Love, that our desire to grow more free from fear, from attachments, and from disorder within our hearts are all a response to that Love.

As we begin the Advent journey again this year, let us do so carrying the flame of faith with us, be steadfast in doing good despite the ways of the world, and stay awake to every opportunity to grow into Christ's own image and likeness, that this Christmas is as much a celebration of Christ's renewing birth within our own consciousness in the present as it is a recollection of God's becoming human long ago.