The Heaven Before Us

Sometimes, what I read is just too good to keep to myself. This is D’Arcy’s refection for the 3^rd Sunday in Advent. It says everything I want to but in such a beautiful way; I could never hope to do it better. Enjoy.

“I have a favorite walking path in Louisiana that leads through a towering arbor of oaks. When I enter its richness, I am in another time and space. Street noises diminish. My breaths lengthen. It’s a secret wood. A small oasis. A place of stillness that causes my thinking to shift from the automatic, analytical process to a flow and fullness from deep within. And if you were to ask me, in the center of the path, what I really think the Christ child came to reveal, I would say, “Just what I am experiencing right now. This. This recognition of spirit in life, far removed from a deity defined by the mind, or by the adherence to a set of beliefs.”

                Cynthia Bourgeault describes it by saying that Jesus came to give us a totally different operating system. Over and over again he repeats that the kingdom of heaven is here. But is is not an earthly kingdom. And not a heaven in a different location. This. Here  Now. A way of seeing. He wanted to catapult us into a different way of relating to life and the spirit in life. He wanted to awaken something within us that would set us free. He called it forth, inviting us to look out from the perspective of vine and branches, not subject and object. He invited us to the place where we no longer see things apart from ourselves, a place where the only thing that can possible benefit me is what benefits the words. A place where I understand that harming you harms me. A place where my identity doesn’t not come from my separateness, but from the awareness that separation is an illusion. There is only one spirit in its infinite expressions.

                But we have taken the story in a different direction and made that direction our truth. We emphasize celebrations of the birth, remembrances of the journey, A blessed virgin. The stable. Shepherds in the field. Christmas trees. Gifts. Exchanging cards. Vacations. We risk avoiding the message by endlessly repeating our customs until we’ve missed the shift in consciousness that would take us from logic and memory to the deeper truth: The day of God is at hand. Here. This. Right now. The spirit within will show you. You don’t have to wait for heaven-just see the one in front of you.”

Enough said.

Amen.

Truely Seeing

In C.S. Lewis’ The Great Divorce the author imagine life on earth from the perspective of heaven. As each new soul arrives it is paired with a heavenly guide and together they watch the events on earth unfold. The soul is far now standing at a distance from the events that seemed so important at the time. With this new perspective, the soul watches the world. But it does so with the knowledge of the gift such a crisis may ultimately reveal.

                So often, when we are in the trenches of a situation or a problem we do not have the ability to see things from another vantage point. We can only see the surface. When we are only seeing the surface it is nearly impossible to notice any work of love let alone to imagine that this current pain might be a vehicle for something greater.

                How often have I failed to see the gifts around me because of the view I have? What is, instead of being angry and outraged when I experience setbacks, I found the power within myself to trust that this darkness will soon bring a new light into my life?

Belonging to the Wind

The wind is uaually followed by a change. I thought of this yesterday when we were hit with the first real snow of the year. This is the sign. We are entering into a new season and the wind carried it to us.Consenting to innder love is alot like the scattering of leaves that comes with a gust of wind. Something new comes through and shakes everything up. I might strip the leaves from the trees or cover the earth with a blaket of snow. Either way, it is a change. It challenges the old, familiar patterns.

It's the same with our souls. Change comes and blows everything around and suddenly the way things used to be, the familiar scenary, is gone and we are left with an entirely new inner environment. We are awakened to a new life. If this newly awakened spirit is to rmain open however, it must learn how to survive. It must adapt to the changes around it. It must continue to move forward. It is intentional and it is committed. The spirit within challenges our old, familiar patterns.

The Gift of Presence

It’s funny how thoughts can come to you. I was just reflecting on the gift of presence in one of the women I work with and into my head came the image of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. Today’s reflection is about the effortless expression of love that has the power to change lives. Anne Marrow Lindbergh, who D’Arcy discussed in her writing for today, goes out and literally washes the feet of the people; the elderly in this community.

“Most of them were thoroughly embarrassed, however, and they apologized profusely before removing their shoes. Many could no longer bend over to give themselves foot care and were extremely grateful to have their nails clipped. But at the same time, they felt ashamed to have her see the condition of their feet. Her gentle spirit won them over. Soon she was clipping their nails while another companion rubbed the scaly, worn feet with oil and creams. Before long, the weary faces had changed, and the old men and women were telling stories and reminiscing about their lives” (D’Arcy).

                How often do we come to God like these elderly? Broken and ashamed but knowing that we can no longer manage this on our own. God sent us the example of Jesus to show us not only the care He offers each one of us but the loving way to be present to one another. When Jesus stooped to wash the feet of his disciples he was doing so much more than giving them the gift of clean feet. This one seemingly simple act of love paved the way for so many other things. Like Anne, Jesus probably understood that love is not about the actual gift that is given but rather it’s about the ability for that gift to create new life.

                When I was young, my parents would always take Maria and I to Holy Thursday mass on the east side in the home of Fr. Jim O’Donnell. We would squeeze into his cramped living room and when the time came each person would take a basin of water and a towel and wash the feet of their neighbor. Everyone participated. If you came here, you knew what you were getting into and it was not for the faint of heart. It never failed to make me cry to see children washing the feet of grandmas and grandmas washing the feet of their grown children. I never really understood why this simple act made me so emotional. I think what D’Arcy wrote hits the nail on the head though. “Love, in fact, isn’t the actual gift that’s given, but rather the force that makes it possible for other things, such as strength or hope, to be found.” This simple act of washing one another’s feet was and continues to be one of the most visible signs of God’s love in the world for me. This Advent, I want to widen the margins of love in my life.

The Journey Towards Love

Throughout my life, I have learned that often times love is a journey. It is not always easy or rewarding. It is a deliberate decision. Love, in its most honest form, is a challenge. I am considering those relationships in my life that are not always the easiest. In today’s refection, D’Arcy talks about her relationship with her dad and about how coming to a place of true love with him was a journey.

“For a period of time before my father’s death, I committed myself to a weekly practice. Our relationship had always been uneasy, but I wanted to reach a place of love within myself-whether or not he and I would ever reach an understanding. So I began driving to see him once a week, trying to open my heart. As I drove, I gently remembered the rejections and confusing series of memories that had been our relationship. The drive took me an hour. Halfway there, I opened the widows and let the memories go. In the remaining minutes, I consciously filled the car with hope and love” (D’Arcy).

                This particular reflection really resonated with me because I have been in that place in my life. If I am honest, I am still at that place in my life. I have any number of relationships that are yearning to be healed. Not for the sake of the other person but for my own well-being. Anger and resentment can eat a person alive. They take up so much space that they leave little room for anything life giving. Often times I don’t want to forgive because I want to make the other person suffer for what they have done but the fact is that usually I am the only one suffering. It’s difficult for me to even imagine how incredible my life would be if I were able to completely and honestly let go of all of the negative energy I have. Even if I drove from here to California and made a conscious choice to release all of that tension I don’t think the drive would be long enough. I have some deep rooted resentments in my life that I will not go into in a public blog but God knows what they are and this Advent, I hope He can help me to let all of those feelings go. I want to make the decision to fill my heart with love and joy and push out the darkness.

Accepting the Unknown

                I just want to start out by saying that I should have known keeping a daily blog would be harder than it looks. The past few days have been hectic and all that jazz but that should not be an excuse. This, after all, was the whole point of doing this: to make a deliberate decision to devote time to reflection during Advent, even when that is difficult to do. I did manage to scribble down some notes the past few days so I will now spend time updating my blog from these thoughts I gathered.

Okay. Let’s get started.

                This entry is all about accepting the unknown path and what better examples of this during Advent then Mary and Joseph.  

 “Was the nature of the challenge any different for those two figures making their way to Bethlehem on a donkey? What else did they have to go on but a strange sense that they would be directed from within? The outcome was an impossible mystery. What could they have relied on except an experience of this power? They didn’t know the course of their lives, or the course of human life, was about to change forever. But surely they recognized something. And they were moved enough to become bold, to move beyond tradition and convention” (Daybreaks).

                I am thinking of all of the times when I have faced an unknown path like Mary and Joseph. Remembering how I felt in those moments, I can only begin to imagine how those two were feeling on the path to Bethlehem. Mary and Joseph are the perfect role models for the power of surrendering to God and the Holy Spirit.

                When I imagine the two of them, even though I know they were just normal people, I cannot really comprehend them this way. I always assumed there must have been something incredible about them that helped to make this process easier. They must have understood the magnitude of what they were saying yes to right? How could a person follow God’s plan with so much unknown ground before them? But, when I examine this idea more closely, I think we each are called to venture into unknown territory with our faith everyday even if it is not all that dignified. The only thing that we need to do is say "yes".

                It makes me wonder how often we live our lives with a trust like Mary and Joseph had. How often do we feel that stirring in our soul and respond, without even really knowing what we are agreeing to, with a “yes”?

                This weekend I was in Michigan taking a course in a two-year certification in youth ministry program and after reflecting on this reading I decided I wanted to try and live this courageous boldness over the weekend in some small way. It seemed like the perfect time to practice so I said “yes” to whatever God had in store for me and prayed for an open heart. As a result, I opened myself up to forming some really great relationships with a group from Traverse City. They had all been there in the first session in October but I don’t think I was open to the experience of putting myself out there and making new friends;  I was not willing to say "yes". I really do believe that this was my opportunity to be bold and listen to that stirring in my soul. Now, I look forward to two years of sharing my faith with this wonderful group of people.

As if I needed more proof of God's presence in my life at this very moment, here I am typing this entry on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception when we celebrate and thank Mary for saying "yes"! (and Joseph too, for being a pretty incredible man)

               

Looking Past Our Expectations

                One of the things my family would do during our evenings in our Advent corner was read the Christmas story. My mom, ever the children’s teacher at heart, took the time to print out the story, cut it into strips, glue those strips to purple construction paper and laminate that construction paper. The end result was the Christmas story broken up into sections and every night Maria and I would fight over who got to read the latest installment. After it was read, we would paper clip it to the previous purple strip and by Christmas we had a long chain which we would find different ways to display.

                Today’s Advent reflection is all about listening nd looking past our expectations.

“I think about the way our expectations dominate our faith and especially how they dominate the Christmas story. Its familiarity renders it almost impossible to hear with a new, radical listening, the way it needs to be heard. We know the ending so we impose that on the listening. What a challenge to hear it as if for the first time, letting the story of hope cause everything in us to change” (Daybreaks).

                Nothing in our life is what we expect it to be and our experience of Christmas should be no exception. This idea makes me think about how my expectations of Christmas have changed over the years.  When Maria and I were little, Christmas morning just seemed so much more exciting. I was always up first because Maria, even as a small child, is NOT a morning person. I would pester Maria is get up and then we would go together to pester my parents to get moving. Eventually, to save their sanity, my parents started leaving little gifts from Santa outside our bedroom doors so when we woke at 5:00am we would have something to occupy us for at least an hour. Then there was the usual rush downstairs and exclamations over all of the presents. Maria and I would sit at the foot of the tree and carefully select the first present we would open while mom shuffled around making everything even more perfect and dad brewed the coffee or started a fire. 

                Now, Christmas looks very different. I am still the first one up but I gave up on pestering Maria and instead get myself a cup of coffee, turn on the radio and sit downstairs by myself for awhile just soaking in the moment. Eventually, the rest of the family joins me and there is some time spent on last minute gift preparation and then we exchange our simple gifts.

For the first few years, this change in my expectation of Christmas morning was pretty depressing. I really wanted that excitement and joy I felt as a child and, as a result, missed alot of special moments. 

                But when I actually take the time to think about it, looking past my expectations of that day has resulted in a wonderful, beautiful, honest happiness. I now love Christmas for entirely different reasons than I did as a child and my expectations of the day have completly changed.

I am blessed because I have another year to celebrate the birth of my amazing mom.

I am blessed because I have another year to take the annual family photos in front of the fireplace at grandma’s house and pose for the yearly grandkids picture on the couch.

I am blessed with another year of listening to the men in my family joke about being in grandmas Glenfiddich club (the non-so- secret society my grandmother created in order to ration out her whiskey. You have to have known her for 30 years to even get a glass).

I am blessed to have another year to celebrate the growth in our family with the addition of Mike. I can’t wait to see who else joins our clan in the future.

I am blessed to have another year to sit at the kids table for dinner (and now I can drink wine!) and then retreat into the kitchen to carefully wash grandmas Country Rose china and catch up with my cousins about school, jobs, boys/husbands and the struggles that come along with those three things.

I am blessed with another year of a house full of people I have no actual blood relation to but I still consider to be my family.

                Occasionally, I feel sad when I look at how much Christmas has changed and all of the ways it no longer meets my childhood expectations but I try not to even think about it because waiting for something to fulfill your expectations is dangerous. More often than not, while you are waiting for that moment to come, you are missing out on the incredible moments happening all around you.

                I don’t want to live my faith with these expectation either. I don’t want to miss out on the beautiful things happening in my relationship with God because I am too busy thinking about how it is not living up to my expectations. Today, my prayer is to always look past my expectations of God and allow the reality to change me entirely.