pray-write journaling – Page 4

1st Sunday Lent 2019

On the anniversary of Dad’s departure, the family texts bombarded the satellites: all day, everyone gushing about what a great guy he was. And it is wise to remember and cling to the good, happy moments. But I draw more solace, peace and joy from remembering his irritating, nudgey ways. When he was annoying and impossible … then, he was perfect.

But let me explain. Old English borrowed the word perfect from Old French who borrowed it from Latin; per meaning through and fect meaning to do. So, the old definition of the adjective perfect means, to do through, complete. Reflecting on this gospel scene, helps me wonder if the devil’s main strategy is to make us think we are not complete. He tempts us into thinking we have needs, and those needs must be filled for us to be who we are intended to be: without these needs met we are somehow less than.

The devil tries this strategy with Jesus in the desert. He first tells Jesus to turn the stones into bread. After all, Jesus has fasted for forty days, and just has to be hungry. The devil is suggesting that Jesus is lacking; He is not whole, His belly is empty. But Jesus says, “Hungry, shmungry, I’m full of what I need to be who I am.”

The devil tries again, “I can give you all the Kingdoms on earth.” The devil is implying, if Jesus is a king, if that is who he thinks he is, he’s got it wrong because he lacks a kingdom. The devil is playing with Jesus’ identity by dismissing spiritual and divine reality and elevating reality defined by human perception. But Jesus knows who is it; He doesn’t need earthly kingdoms to be the King that He is already.

Then the devil tries to goad and provoke Jesus into proving He is who He says He is, suggesting proof of identify is a need not yet met. But Jesus says, “I know who I am; you are not going to bully me into bullying my Father and the angels to prove it. I do not need others to believe I who I am to be who I Am.”

The Fortress Commentary refers to these early chapters and verses in Luke’s narrative as the ‘unfolding’ of Jesus’ identity, and points out that the devil advances Jesus’ identity by questioning it. The devil has three times tried to convince Jesus that not only does he has unmet needs, but that until those needs are met, He is not completely Himself. He is without integrity, without wholeness, lacking and less than. But Jesus knows who He is intended to be and is completely Him.

Can say the same thing about myself?

Reflection Questions for Journaling

- Am I completely who the Lord invites and intends me to be?
- Who does the Lord intend me to be? What percent of the time, am I she?
- What unmet needs do I think I have which prevent me from being who I am intended to be more consistently?
- In what ways have the devil’s attempts to convince me I need x, y, z to be who I’m intended to be, actually advance the integrity of my identity?
- And finally, I ask myself again, am I wholly who the Lord invites and intends me to be?

3rd Sunday, OT 2018

Jonah, Chapters 1-3; Mark 1: 14-20

In the Hebrew Bible section before us, Jonah urges the Ninevites, “Repent, return to the Lord.” The prophet’s back-story, however, is important. Jonah hopped on a boat to Tarshish because he was running away from the Lord: although scholars debate exact its location, they agreed Tarshish is in the opposite direction of Nineveh and far away. Yet, Jonah claims Lord God as his god, and admits he is Hebrew. He is not denying or betraying God, just running away from what he’s being asked to do.

Caught in a dangerous storm and realizing Jonah brought it on by turning tail on his Lord God, the sailors chuck him overboard. Because Jonah may well have drown, the sea creature who swallows him up has done him a great favor. I imagine visiting the belly of a sea monster. It is very disorienting: I don’t know if it is day or night, how much time has passed, and if I am even alive. (And I am so hungry!) In all seriousness, the sensation of disorientation stays with me.

Once our prophet reaches Nineveh, the people repent with fasting and sack clothe. Jonah goes to extraordinary lengths to run away, assuming peril and death, but the people respond with generous enthusiasm. (The Lord pointed out to me… I often predict gloom and doom and am pleasantly surprised too.)

Simon and Andrew, James and John do not run away, but run towards. Jesus says, “Follow me. I will make you fishers of men.” Fishing— hauling in the catch, cleaning and selling, mending nets is hard physical labor, requiring patience and attention. I imagine Peter’s enthusiasm over a catch of fish: the sense of triumph and satisfaction at a great catch. While the Post-resurrection Peter often seems solemn and serious, I wonder if he did not exhibit the same enthusiasm in catching men, in building the Early Church.

To orient or reorient requires one to stop and look around, to seek and decide on an object, path or goal for reference. In the case of the fishers, their orientation shifted from fishing for fish to fishing for men. They followed Jesus spontaneously and without question or struggle, no discernment needed. Although Jonah fought the Lord, the whale reoriented him towards Lord God. Deepening our relationship with the Lord must involve this process of periodic reorientation.

Journal Questions:

When have I needed to stop, look around and be reoriented? What do I learn about myself and God in reflecting on these past experiences?
Do I need reorienting at this point in time?

2nd Sunday, OT, 2018

1 Samuel 3:3-10, 19
John 1:35-42

We often use the words vocation, or calling to indicate life-style, career, and hobbies. Like Samuel, we may be called to service of the Lord as priest or vowed religious. The word may refer also to our raison d’être, the meaning of our life, our identity; Peter was called to be The Rock. Finally, we may be referring to a unique and marked talent or insight; the prophets were called to convey specific messages.

Programs such as Called and Gifted by the Catherine of Siena Institute, and other spiritual gift inventories are designed to help people discover their God-given gifts and His call to use them. While we are right to reflect on these and the concerns of our hearts, we need to guard against turning the Lord into a high school guidance counselor.

Neither Samuel or Simon Peter are called to do anything specific as of these moments before us: no mission or ministry has yet been suggested. Before any other communique, the Lord makes His presence known. While He used words to grab Samuel’s attention, His physical appearance itself told Peter, “Here I am.” When the Lord calls us by name, He is announcing the presence of all present. “Here we all are— together.”

I am visual, so creating a scene in my mind’s eye when I contemplate is helpful to me. Regardless of the setting, Jesus is typically present and waiting for me. When I asked Him about these readings…about calls, vocations and invitations… I forgot to listen to His answer. I was just so happy to be hanging out with Him. I was in peace; it was not a feeling but a state of being. I realized later, that was His response.

We may worry, “Have I understood accurately what He is calling me to do, who He is calling me to be?” We make what is simple overly complicated. For each and every one of us, like Samuel and Peter, He calls us to notice His presence, to be with Him, and to allow ourselves to be at peace. The rest is secondary fluff.

Journal Questions:

What efforts have I made to discern my calling?
Am I living my call or still searching for clarification from the Lord?
When do I experience peace? Is it a feeling or state of being?
How might I describe my perceptions of time I spend with the Lord to someone else?

Epiphany

Psalm 72
Matthew 2:1-12

I was surprised at the Merriam-Webster Dictionary’s definition of Epiphany. The first point is a reference to today’s holy day and the second points to, “A manifestation of the divine.” The third listing reads,

a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something,
an intuitive grasp of reality through something (such as an event) usually simple and striking,
an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure: a revealing scene or moment.

Various commentaries highlight different aspects of the Magi, but all tend to debunk the notion of three highly-respected and wise kings. Taken together, it seems once upon a time, Magi were respected king-priests, but over time their reputation dipped (11) for various reasons. At the time of Jesus’ birth they were known as astrologers and dream interpreters: as such, they would have noticed a change in the night sky.

Barclay clearly explains, given knowledge of the culture and belief systems of the day throughout the land, the star’s significance would be obvious to the Magi (8). Writings found from the time period make it clear the general expectation in the region was that Israel would be imminently restored through a new Davidic king. Such a king would establish peace and justice throughout the world. They travelled a long time from far away, probably in some danger to behold this king.

While the Magi were given an understanding of the significance of the appearance of a new star, it was ignited by their professional knowledge. Epiphanies may seem spontaneous and unexpected, however, such ah-ah moments spring from what we know already through perseverance and fortitude.

Secular parlance also uses the word freely and we do indeed have moments of sudden clarity in which we interpret everyday events and circumstances in a new way. Some would say these understandings come from our ‘wise minds.’ Nine times out of ten, if I’ve quieted the jumble in my head, reaching a perception fancy and profound enough to call wisdom, it’s not mine. I have no ‘wise mind,’ but the same mind all the time. If I follow the Light which is the Lord, if I pay attention to His presence before and around me, however, I may come to a new insight.

In other words, if the third Merriam-Webster Dictionary definition takes place, the second has already occurred. Did I miss it?

Journal Questions:

What am I an expert of? How does its attending knowledge help me seek and understand the presence of the Lord here and now?
How would I evaluate my own wisdom? To what or whom do I attribute it to?

Holy Family

Psalm 128, or 105
Luke 2:22-40

Music and song was used throughout the history of Judaism. Miriam, Deborah and others sing to commemorate and celebrate, to offer public witness and praise to the Lord for the blessings and gifts He bestows upon His chosen people. Songs documented in the Old or New Testament, within a book other than the Book of Psalms, are called canticles. Simeon’s Canticle, his words to Mary in this gospel moment, are used daily in the evening prayers of the Liturgy of the Hours, (Compline). This intuition to witness and praise the Lord through music has existed throughout humanity’s history.

Catholic doctrine makes clear we have a responsibility to teach the faith. How might our efforts shift in tone, tenor and effectiveness, if we understand scripture and doctrine, words and actions, compassion and justice as music and song?

Making music requires listening; the structures and rules of musical composition pull the musicians together. Explicitly explained through the concepts of common good and solidarity, Scripture and doctrine teach us everyone’s part matters. I might ask myself, am I in tune and in tempo with the other musicians? How are our various parts are woven together?

We need also be mindful of our own musicianship. A music teacher once told me I was playing notes, but needed to allow the arc of the phrase to move the music. The same teacher said, “Music is what happens between the notes.” I suspect the silence between the notes is the Holy Spirit, the presence of the Lord.

Time in contemplation, writing as prayer, or biblical and doctrine study, give us the chance to listen to Him internally and intentionally. We can then adjust our words and actions so, when in the hustle-and-bustle of our external world, we can remain in tune with the silence between the notes more consistently.

Journal Questions:

Simeon’s opening words, nunc dimittis in Latin, translate, now dismiss, indicate his belief that he has fulfilled his heart’s desire and is ready to die (10). This canticle is prayed every evening by many. Upon review of my day, could I say these words? What do I need to do tomorrow so I could say them tomorrow night?
Does the idea of scripture and doctrine, words and actions, compassion and justice as music and song resonate with me? If it does, I might explore the metaphor by asking myself:

Do I listen? Do I hear the music of others’ hearts, beyond or behind their words and deeds? Am I in tune and tempo with them? How might it all be woven together?
In what circumstances have I played notes; when have I followed the arc of the phrase? What factors were involved? How did it end?
How does my awareness of the silence between the notes effect the music?