Yay! It's Advent!
Ok, I won't lie. I have not before had the spiritual maturity to appreciate Advent in previous years. Maybe now its time...what a hopeful season. All the world awaits a Savior...me included. I think God's timing on this whole thing is quite perfect (uh...duh). I have reached a turning point in my spiritual struggles recently, which provides an excellent opportunity for hope. Tah-dah! First week of Advent, friend. God is good.
The message of hope came through so strongly today in the readings at Mass...
"On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom...Then the wolf shall be a guest with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them...for His dwelling place shall be glorious." ~Isaiah 11:1-10
Father commented in Mass today about how beautifully versed this passage in Isaiah is. What tender, poignant images they bring us Gentiles, who are breathlessly anticipating the Love that is ours. Talk about poetry.
I agree, but I loved the psalm even more:
"Justice shall flourish in His time, and fullness of peace forever." ~Psalm 72
Justice...a concept we Americans tend to associate with ugly legal proceedings and cold, unfeeling court rooms. But justice is so much more...all the wrongs of this world will be righted when the King of Kings comes for His people. And the result being the fullness of peace forever...I like it. :) Peace is good.
Speaking of Mass....I'm totally in love with the New Translation. I cannot at present say which word changes stick out to me most...but the whole idea of being even more in communion with the rest of the non-English speaking Body of Christ is so exciting...even more cause for hope. Yay God.
May you find hope in this season of waiting. Grace to you, and peace.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
At the Foot of the Cross
I got a new perspective on the crucifix in the little ill-used chapel in XL hall's basement last week. Despite the lack of use (except for studying) and the humility of it, with little decoration on the walls and few chairs, the space is a sacred one, and the crucifix in the center of the wall makes the little room sufficient for me to feel comforted or, at the very least, alone when I'm trying to escape the very small, busy, sometimes overwhelming world that is RU's campus.
There is an old altar in this chapel, but its never used anymore because Masses are not said down there. I always seat myself on the floor when I visit, in front of the altar, about 6 or 7 feet away from the crucifix. On this particular day last week, I left the lights off, quite literally dropped all of my stuff at the door (except my kleenexes...I definitely needed those) and collapsed onto the floor. It was one of those days: I had just been delivered a heart-wrenching piece of news, the kind that stops time, that makes the world stop spinning, that makes me wonder if things could possibly get any worse...so I did the only thing I knew to do. I took the piece of news and my broken heart into the chapel, buried my head in my arms, and I cried out to my God.
While sobbing into the carpet, I felt a sort of beckoning, and I looked up. I realized physically how far away I was from the crucifix, and it occurred to me that I had never been very spiritually close to the Cross before the recent hardships in my life before. And then I heard Christ calling me.
"Come suffer with Me. Please."
So I did. I crawled around behind the altar and sat in the dark, staring up at my Lord from the foot of the Cross. And there I discovered something.
In the midst of suffering, there is a calling. From Christ, directly to the center of our hearts. He calls us not to run away from the darkness, the pain, the horrors of this life. He calls us to run toward Him. To be with Him. I know in my head that Christ can be there for me, but it never occurred to me that I could be there for Him, as He suffered in His earthly life.
Christ did not just come to this Earth to suffer for us. He came to suffer with us. He came to share in the hurt we suffer at the hands of Evil, because He loves us. He did not suffer and die to take away our suffering. He came to give it meaning. Christ's Passion says something about how much He values us. It says: "You are so important to Me; You deserve better than to be attacked and hurt in this way. What has happened to you is wrong. It matters. And I will do anything to be as close to you as possible. Even go through the same things you are going through, because I love you."
Wow. Entering into suffering, especially for someone else's sake, is soooooo...opposite of my own internal instinct. All I want is for pain and fear and shame to go away...we all know its easier to be joyful and to praise God when the sun is shining. But we are called to find meaning in even the worst and lowest parts of our lives, because even then our dignity is valued, when we are broken and struggling. Even then, God's love for us is infinite.
You see, suffering, hardship, failure, heck even discomfort is something Evil tells us to shy away from. He tries to get us to think that we deserve an easier road, a better life, more power to control our comfort level, more money, more, more, more. And when he gets the upper hand on us, we are tempted then to turn away from the God who "let it happen" to us, who "doesn't really care." But that is so wrong!
Christ doesn't wait for us to feebly offer Him our sufferings, so He can condescendingly pat us on the shoulder and be on His merry way. No. Christ waits to meet us where we are, to embrace and console us and to be embraced and consoled as He suffers too. There comes a point in a relationship with someone when you endure a struggle together, and it makes you stronger, and closer to the other. We love to give Christ everything in times that are good; why don't we share suffering with Him, and let Him share with us, in times that are bad?
May you grow closer to Christ...in all things.
Grace to you, and peace.
There is an old altar in this chapel, but its never used anymore because Masses are not said down there. I always seat myself on the floor when I visit, in front of the altar, about 6 or 7 feet away from the crucifix. On this particular day last week, I left the lights off, quite literally dropped all of my stuff at the door (except my kleenexes...I definitely needed those) and collapsed onto the floor. It was one of those days: I had just been delivered a heart-wrenching piece of news, the kind that stops time, that makes the world stop spinning, that makes me wonder if things could possibly get any worse...so I did the only thing I knew to do. I took the piece of news and my broken heart into the chapel, buried my head in my arms, and I cried out to my God.
While sobbing into the carpet, I felt a sort of beckoning, and I looked up. I realized physically how far away I was from the crucifix, and it occurred to me that I had never been very spiritually close to the Cross before the recent hardships in my life before. And then I heard Christ calling me.
"Come suffer with Me. Please."
So I did. I crawled around behind the altar and sat in the dark, staring up at my Lord from the foot of the Cross. And there I discovered something.
In the midst of suffering, there is a calling. From Christ, directly to the center of our hearts. He calls us not to run away from the darkness, the pain, the horrors of this life. He calls us to run toward Him. To be with Him. I know in my head that Christ can be there for me, but it never occurred to me that I could be there for Him, as He suffered in His earthly life.
Christ did not just come to this Earth to suffer for us. He came to suffer with us. He came to share in the hurt we suffer at the hands of Evil, because He loves us. He did not suffer and die to take away our suffering. He came to give it meaning. Christ's Passion says something about how much He values us. It says: "You are so important to Me; You deserve better than to be attacked and hurt in this way. What has happened to you is wrong. It matters. And I will do anything to be as close to you as possible. Even go through the same things you are going through, because I love you."
Wow. Entering into suffering, especially for someone else's sake, is soooooo...opposite of my own internal instinct. All I want is for pain and fear and shame to go away...we all know its easier to be joyful and to praise God when the sun is shining. But we are called to find meaning in even the worst and lowest parts of our lives, because even then our dignity is valued, when we are broken and struggling. Even then, God's love for us is infinite.
You see, suffering, hardship, failure, heck even discomfort is something Evil tells us to shy away from. He tries to get us to think that we deserve an easier road, a better life, more power to control our comfort level, more money, more, more, more. And when he gets the upper hand on us, we are tempted then to turn away from the God who "let it happen" to us, who "doesn't really care." But that is so wrong!
Christ doesn't wait for us to feebly offer Him our sufferings, so He can condescendingly pat us on the shoulder and be on His merry way. No. Christ waits to meet us where we are, to embrace and console us and to be embraced and consoled as He suffers too. There comes a point in a relationship with someone when you endure a struggle together, and it makes you stronger, and closer to the other. We love to give Christ everything in times that are good; why don't we share suffering with Him, and let Him share with us, in times that are bad?
May you grow closer to Christ...in all things.
Grace to you, and peace.
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