Showing posts with label Monday Morning Meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monday Morning Meditation. Show all posts

Monday, November 7, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #101: Not By Our Hand

Reading through the book of Daniel, I simply had to stop at the powerful dream that Nebuchadnezzar had. Personally, I never remember my dreams, but I do doubt that any of them have been prophetic ones although I do know that God, over the centuries, has communicated with people through dreams (seemingly far more often than through locutions, which is my more common, although rare, experience). So it is even more fascinating for me to read about a dream as highly prophetic -- and initially difficult to understand -- as Nebuchadnezzar's. Here is the dream, as reported to Daniel by King Nebuchadnezzar:
"I looked, and there before me stood a tree in the middle of the land. Its height was enormous. The tree grew large and strong and its top touched the sky; it was visible to the ends of the earth. 12 Its leaves were beautiful, its fruit abundant, and on it was food for all. Under it the wild animals found shelter, and the birds lived in its branches; from it every creature was fed.

In the visions I saw while lying in bed, I looked, and there before me was a holy one, a messenger,coming down from heaven. He called in a loud voice: ‘Cut down the tree and trim off its branches; strip off its leaves and scatter its fruit. Let the animals flee from under it and the birds from its branches. But let the stump and its roots, bound with iron and bronze, remain in the ground, in the grass of the field. Let him be drenched with the dew of heaven, and let him live with the animals among the plants of the earth. 16 Let his mind be changed from that of a man and let him be given the mind of an animal, till seven times pass by for him.

The decision is announced by messengers, the holy ones declare the verdict, so that the living may know that the Most High is sovereign over all kingdoms on earth and gives them to anyone he wishes and sets over them the lowliest of people."
Reading on, one finds Daniel's interpretation of this dream. King Nebuchadnezzar was the tree. He had become powerful. More important (or more distressing), he had become proud that his kingdom extended so far in all directions, and he did not glorify God adequately for this but held some of the praise within for himself. So, God's plan was to humble him by sending him out into the fields to live with the wild animals like an animal until such time that his pride was relinquished and he knew the overwhelming power of the Lord.

And this is precisely what befell Nebuchadnezzar. He found himself living among the animals until he had been humbled, after which his royal entourage found him and returned him to his throne, a humbled and grateful man.

Reading: Daniel 4

Meditation: This dream of Nebuchadnezzar hit home for me. I have often felt -- and said -- that it is difficult to integrate worldly success with spiritual humility. Possible with the help of God, yes, but, oh, so difficult because it is so tempting to assume that one is a "self-made person" and that one can go it alone. After all, in American society, at least, we encourage people to move up the ladder, so to speak, and we praise self-made people. Being motivated by the rung of the ladder and the praise of men, however, take us far from those fields of wild animals where God would have us understand who is great and who is small, who is important and who is not, who is to be glorified and who is to do the glorifying.

On a daily basis, this is brought home to me. As a very senior manager, even though I am in a position where God intended me to be, I have moments of assuming that I can personally make decisions -- and, my goodness, those decisions are almost always flawed in some way, or if not flawed, then not nearly as insightful and good as they could be. On the other hand, when I do take these to God in prayer before jumping to some human conclusion and when I do give credit to its rightful Belonger, that is, when I do realize who is in charge and how little I personally contribute, then things work out amazingly well, better than anything I could possible plan or enact.

Some time ago, I wrote a couple of posts about the price of success and how my division would be dismantled in two years, with me reporting to a new person brought in as a layer between me and the highest level of management to whom I now report. With God's help, I had put aside all concern about that plan, not without great effort at subduing the pride that said, "hey, I created this success, let me have it; don't pass it along to someone who did nothing for it." God showed me, though, that this was not the right attitude, and with some help from God -- an evening walk here and there, a prayer now and then, I was able to reconcile myself to reality and eventuality. However, over the next two years, things have changed, and the plan has been scrapped. So, too, has been my undue pride. So, while the threatened intermediary never showed up to change my status in the human world, God changed it in the spiritual world. I have found that I like it better that way -- and if some intermediary ever does show up (looks pretty doubtful given the current economic climate), it won't matter because anything I have created was with the help of God, supervisors and employees. I would very much hesitate now to take credit for any of it. I prefer instead to join Nebuchadnezzar in glorifying God.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God for all the reasons I have to glorify Him. I will thank God for His lessons, and I will ask forgiveness for those times that I have been slow to learn them. I will also ask God to continue to give me those lessons in humility that I so much need. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #100: The Value of Vegetables

Oh, my goodness! As I typed in the title for this post, I realized that it is #100, exactly. It seems pretty amazing that 100 weeks have passed since I have begun writing this column. It is especially amazing because I still have only scratched the surface of all the wonderful information, stories, advice, guidance, direction, etc., that one finds in the Bible. I do apologize for the late posting of this MMM. It is no longer morning. Doah stayed overnight last night, and his hyperactivity kept my attention riveted to matters that do not require quiet concentration.

Now, back to this week's reading. Having completed Ezekiel, last week, I moved on to Daniel. Not that I worked very far through that book...I stopped on the very first chapter on the story of Daniel and his friends choosing to be fed vegetables and water over the royal food and wine offered to them and ended up healthier than their peers at the royal table.

Reading: Daniel 1

Meditation: One could read this story from a literal point of view or from a metaphorical point of view. I read it from both.http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Likely in the days of Daniel, medicine was not advanced enoughttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifh to know the value of fruits and vegetables over red meat and more popular foods. So, it is interesting to read that somehow Daniel trusted to plain food associated with a simple life. Today we would not be surprised to find that as a result Daniel and his companions were healthier than those who opted for the foods that were high in fat and cholesterol.

Similarly, one might look at a "simple" life versus a "royal" life. While riches (like royal food) might be "tasty" (attractive), they are not spiritually healthy for us -- as we are frequently told throughout the Bible, especially by Jesus in the gospels; simplicity and poverty (like vegetables), as those who have followed in the path of St. Francis and others like him have learned, are healthier.

So, I guess the take-away is what our mothers have always told us. We need to eat our vegetables!

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God for demonstrating to us and telling us in so many ways throughout history that we should concentrate on eating our vegetables and not on the fancier fare of life. I will thank God for giving us vegetables, and I will ask forgiveness for those times that I have bypassed the vegetables and reached for the cordon bleu. I will also ask God to continue to guide me in the decisions I have to make on a daily basis on how simple or complex I make my life. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #99: The Ezekiel Experience

Apologies for missing last Monday Morning's Meditation. (I wonder if anyone noticed!!) Unfortunately, I had a blood pressure urgency and ended up all morning at the medical clinic. My BP rose sharply overnight to 208/117, and this was with medication, not without it. Doctors do not like BP in that range, so I had to spend time with a doctor who kept scratching her head because she could find no reason for the BP, which was registering the same on her cuff as on mine. (I have had these peaks come for a couple of weeks at a time, then totally disappear and be perfectly flat with mild medication for a couple of years, then another two weeks of nonsense. The doctor finally just doubled the med and sent me home. The peaks continued until yesterday; the amount of meds did not seem to matter. Now, back to normal. Dunno how to interpret any of that. Nothing in my behavior -- eating, stress level, etc. -- has changed. Anyway, so for the long diversion. Now, back to Ezekiel, which I did finish this week, ending with a strong curiosity as to why God gave all these specific design instructions if the temple described was never built.

Reading: Ezekiel 45-46

Meditation: I have recently experienced what I might describe ashttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif an Ezekiel experience. Or rather, a combined Jeremiah/Ezekial experience. I have described it in pieces on both on this blog and, in more detail, on Modern Mysticism (the Goliath stories). It also forms one of the stories in my latest book, A Believer-in-Waiting's First Encounters with God. It appears that God gave me to take on the task of bringing to light the evil roaming through our local chapter of the Secular Franciscan Order. No matter how I did it (obviously, not with the greatest finesse), I would come off as nutty at best and carpy at worst. Finally, having spent a great amount of time recently in prayer and discernment, I felt (hopefully, correctly) that God was not asking me to stay any longer with the SFO, and I so I left, as I also related on these pages.

After leaving, I made one last effort to point out the problem of evil to the council, the result of which was that the head of the council, called the "minister", who is part of the problem, gave orders that no one was to talk to me again. (Shades of a children's club!) However, one of the council members came to me in secrecy and told me that she had observed everything that I warned about but did not feel strong enough to fight against. (This is a new council; the previous council saw quite clearly what I had seen and been told to state overtly, but they are now being ostracized because of the formation director, who, in my observation and the observation of several who have left formation because of uneasy feelings -- a sense of the unholy -- appears to be the conduit for the evil; the minister is quite taken with him, unfortunately.) So, like Exekiel, I ran around, saying "bad things are happening; there will be repercussions," while contemporaries were saying, "isn't life hunky dory?", i.e. telling people the nice things they preferred to hear.

Now, as with Ezekiel, nothing seems to have changed -- no temple built, no evil conquered. Being human, I wonder why God put me in this awkward position vis-a-vis peers. That there is evil in the organization, there is little doubt. I no longer have to rely on God to point it out; a number of people have approached me now that I have spoken out, discussing in confidence their uncomfortable experiences, which they have put up with because they believe in the values of St. Francis and hope that this will pass. What I hope (and assume) is that God will send another. I do not believe that God ever abandons anyone to evil who loves God.

Sometimes I wonder if I was too fervent in my taking on this task. On the other hand, Jesus was never gentle with evil, and I think it is reasonable to use Jesus as a model in such cases.

The lesson, I suppose, is one I will only learn over time. I have found that taskings given to me are not only tasks for helping others, but they are also lessons for me -- often in how well or poorly I carry them out, but also the outcome is often surprising. As in this case, where there does not seem to be an outcome (yet).

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God for His constancy in being with us, directing us while not encroaching upon free will, loving us. I will thank God for this task even if I do not understand why I was given it and do not see a positive (or any) outcome, and I will ask forgiveness for any and all mistakes I made in carrying out the task. I will also pray for the spiritual safety of all the good people who remain in the organization. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #97: "They Will Know That I Am the Lord, Their God"

I missed a few sessions of our Bible Study class during my recent travels, but I was not concerned because typically we cover only 2-4 chapters of a book in any given session. Since I am currently reading Ezekiel for morning meditation and we are also reading Ezekiel in class, I figured I was well ahead of the curve in spite of missing a few sessions. So, imagine my surprise when I showed up last week, finally back in town, to learn that my class was on the exact same chapter I was reading!

The next chapter stopped me: Chapter 39. In it, God tells Ezekiel the various punishments he will wreak so that His people will know that He is the Lord. The phrase is repeated over and over, "and they will know that I am the Lord."

Reading: Ezekiel 39.

Meditation: There are some events, stories, and emotions in the Bible (Old Testament and New Testament)that evoke visceral reactions (at least, for me). God's constant having to show us that He is God because we keep turning away from Him is, to me, sad. Who are we to consider that anything that might interest or intrigue us could possibly be more important than we to God and God to us? We have been given so much, including knowledge beyond what was originally intended, yet have little gratitude? Man historically has worshiped other gods, which, it seems to me (but what do I know?), at least a tiny tad bit better than being an atheist who worships no gods at all. The fact that God keeps trying to get our attention (and certainly He dramatically got mine when I was being totally oblivious) says a lot about God's love for us. Why can't we love Him the way He wants to love us? (That's a question to which I don't have an answer!)

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God for His constancy in His love for us. I will thank God for coming after His lost sheep and for giving us a second chance, third chance, fourth chance, and I will ask forgiveness for the need for all those chances. Finally, I will ask God never to stop reminding me that He is Lord (although I do hope that I will not need many reminders). Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #96: On Being Good Caretakers

I am very, very happy to be back home from Madrid. While I had good job-related accomplishments there and enjoyed seeing three different cities -- Madrid, Toleda, and Alcala, stolen credit card numbers (not sure from which merchant because that information is held confidential) plagued me. Fortunately, Master Card International was on top of it all, and only one of the numbers had been used; that was a purchase that the card company declined because they had the card being used in Texas and Madrid on the same day! Smart card company -- although they thought Madrid was the fraudulent use when it really was Texas.

Well, back to the task at hand, I have continued on in Ezekiel, but not far. The verse that caught my eye, Ezekiel 36:5, is probably one that seems odd and not very full of meaning. However, if you put it into a larger context, there is considerable meaning. Here is the verse:
"This is what the Sovereign LORD says: In my burning zeal I have spoken against the rest of the nations, and against all Edom, for with glee and with malice in their hearts they made my land their own possession so that they might plunder its pastureland."
Reading: Ezekial 36:5
Meditation: It seems to me that the message that can be gleaned from this passage is so simple as to be profound. The land we live on is not ours; it is God's for the giving and the taking. If we live on it, we should take care of it, and we should share it.

Last February, we bought a house. it seemed to fall into our hands. We had not planned to buy a house, but our landlord decided to sell the one we were living in and asked us if we wanted to buy it. We learned the price, and while fair, our thought was that if we were going to buy a house, we should look for one a little larger. The rental was a two-bedroom in a historic district. Since Donnie used one bedroom for an office, guests had to sleep on our couch. If we bought this particular house, we could not modify it because it was historic. So, we looked for 3-bedroom houses in the same price range.

That is when in our very first gander at Internet listings, we saw the house we bought. In fact, it was the only house we looked at. It had five (!) bedroooms, sat on top of a hill overlooking town and yet within walking distance of the mission and downtown, and had been recently remodeled -- all for the same price as the two-bedroom house we had been renting. Not planning to buy, we had not saved up a down payment. No problem. I had a 30-year-old VA loan that had never been used, and those do not require down payments. Further, when I looked in the files, which have been moved from hither to yon over the last 30 years, the eligibility certificate was right on top! It seemed that this house was to be ours.

I have been very aware since moving here that this house is God's as much as mine, and the doors are always open to all. We have had been events here, beginning with the house blessing which was open to all in town. At that event, someone told me that this used to be a million-dollar house (I can see that), and that no one was invited to visit. Well, we have changed all that. We have a guest room for out of towners, prayer group movie nights meet here, and others who want to come, just do so. We are not owners; we are just God's caretakers for the time that we are allowed to be here.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God His great kindness in giving us, His tenants, a great land to live on. I will thank God for the latitude we are given to take care of His property. I will ask God to remind me of my "proper" role should I ever think that I, not God, am the owner of anything. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #95: Let Us Not Gloat

I am not certain, sitting here in Madrid, Spain, when Monday Morning will hit the rest of the world. I just know that is already upon me albeit the wee hours of the morning. Nights last long here. After an evening Mass, with yet a later one to come in the little church with the intensive Mass schedule across from the hotel where I am staying (Hotel Husa Princesa), a colleague and I went to dinner. By the time we made it back it was already midnight, but little had shut down -- just the normal Sunday closures had taken effect. So, I guess if I attend tomorrow night's Mass also, it will still be morning in the US. Since my body does an immediate adjustment when I travel, I always feel the local time and am confused about the time back home unlike most of my colleagues who experience the opposite phenomenon.

Well, down to the nitty-gritty, I am continuing on in Ezekiel even while in Spain. It keeps me current with my Bible Study group while away since Ezekiel is the book of study this fall. The verse that caught my eye and got me thinking this week was Ezekiel 35:15:
Because you rejoiced when the inheritance of Israel became desolate, that is how I will treat you. You will be desolate, Mount Seir, you and all of Edom. Then they will know that I am the LORD.
Reading: Ezekiel 35:15.

Meditation: I have had occasion to watch others gloat over someone's hard luck, especially if it is someone whom they dislike or envy. Where else did the expression, "it serves him [her] right," come from if not from rejoicing over someone else's desolation. I know occasionally when I see someone who has caused me difficulties fall into difficulties of their own, I am tempted to say, "hah, it serves him [her] right," but I do know that we are not the ones to judge what another deserves. (Just think about we each deserve -- I think I would prefer grace to getting what I really deserve.) And I recall God telling me that my abusive mother "lives in grace," which initially angered me in what I perceived as its unfairness until I realized that grace is God's to give and not mine to decide who deserves it. (Sort of reminds one of the workers who started to work in the last hours of the harvest but got paid the same as the others.)So, now, I really try, when I see someone who "got what they deserved," to ask him/her how I can help with the current difficulty. Often, I can, and when I do, I feel a whole lot better seeing someone in better shape than I would feel from gloating about someone in bad shape.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to praise God for the examples given to us in the New Testament of how to think about situations of fairness. I will thank God for the latitude we are given to react in ways that help both us and those in trouble grow in compassion and gratitude. I will ask to remind me of Divine mercy when I am tempted to take the path of the gloating sinner, and I will repent any times I have done so. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #94: The Lord As Israel's Shepherd

Donnie and I have returned from a week's peaceful vacation at the Franciscan Guest House at St. Anthony's Monastery. I had plans of writing a post a day, but somehow that never materialized. Between visiting family and childhood friends living in the environs of Kennebunkport, Maine and spending time at Mass and on the grounds of the monastery, I found little time for more than contemplation -- or, perhaps, it would be more realistic to say that I spent a week being lazy with God.

Arriving home this weekend, I continued to dig into Ezekiel . There were many verses that caught my eye and could have served as food for thought (well, actually, they did). However, it was not until I reached chapter 34 that the words seized me, requiring that I share them with you. In chapter 34, God declares that He himself will become the shepherd for Israel, other shepherds having failed in the task.

Reading: Ezekiel 34.

Meditation: These words rang home sharply because yesterday I withdrew from the Secular Franciscan Order. It was not an easy decision and had a little to do with evil influences infiltrating our chapter and region, and I have blogged about this in detail before, perhaps ad nauseam as I was discerning whether to stay (see Goliath). After much prayer (probably better described as nagging God), I finally got an answer, but not the one I expected. The answer was that I was to leave -- immediately. It was a sudden change and took more than a few people, including me, by surprise. I cite below the contents of the letter I shared with the members of the SFO in my parting (note the quite coincidental use of the verb shepherding and the concept of God as shepherd, or primary teacher, validated only after the fact when I read Ezekiel 34 this morning. The letter is a bit long for a post, but, I believe, is self-explanatory, so I shall include the whole thing. (The purpose, or task, referred to is the one described in the posts on Goliath.
Dear SFO Members:

It is with mixed feelings that I bid you adieu for the decision has not been made by personal desire but through obedient volition. I am pleased that God has allowed me to be with you as you have journeyed into the Franciscan way of life although I personally have not been on a journey but rather have been developing intimacy with God in a dimension where I am learning that we travel farthest when we do not move at all. God had a purpose in directing that my life intersect yours, and I have been extraordinarily blessed to know that purpose and to know you. My being here was never about me nor was it about my becoming Franciscan for I do not relate to God nor God to me in the way the SFO formation program dictates. Nonetheless, I will continue to share devotion to poverty, charity, obedience, and joy, which took root in my soul long before I knew about a saint called Francis. I am now being shepherded into another realm of God’s kingdom, not unlike what happened with Habakkuk: Divinely picked up by the hair and set down someplace else.

I have chosen continued submission to the will of God, Who gives us times to pray in groups and times to pray alone, times to offer formulaic prayer and times to listen in silence, times to affiliate and times to question affiliations. God calls us to communion in ways beyond our understanding but not always beyond our knowing. “Be with Me” is the call I received. God did not say “study,” “formate,” “grow,” “journey,” or “join.” God said “be.” I don’t know what “being” entails; God will reveal what I need to know as I need to know it. I do know that this is a time for me to become uneducated, put aside the desire for human knowledge, and, abandoning myself to divine wisdom, let God be my teacher.

Among the many graces God has accorded this unworthy servant has been the opportunity to associate with the SFO for the past four years. I am grateful that many of you will remain in my life through other worship communities for I love all of you. Many of you have also loved me. Some of you have tolerated me. A few of you have shown me unusual mercy. I honor each of you as a tender part of God’s great creation. May God grant you the peace in your acceptance of the Franciscan Rule that I have felt in accepting God’s invitation to “be.”

Yours in prayer and peace,
Beth
Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for bringing this particular period of discernment to a clear close. I will praise God for the variability He allows us in our worship. I will ask God for greater clarification of the next steps (if any) to be taken and will try to temper my impatience while waiting for that clarification, and I will repent any ways in which I failed God in the SFO-related tasking He gave me two years ago as well as any inadvertent hurt I inflicted on any individuals while carrying out that tasking. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #93: Tell What You Have Been Told to Tell

I am pretty lazy this morning about writing the Monday Morning Meditation. It is an amazingly peaceful and relaxing morning. I did get up early to attend the 7:30 Mass at St. Anthony's Monastery, which is the story of my life this week (sorry that I have been missing the 7 Quick Takes Friday posts -- I have been traveling nearly constantly). I had set up a trip to NH for this week, related to a mission of mercy, which I cannot do here after all but which I can do long-distance. Go figure! I was going to stay with my brother in Wells, Maine since I always do that when I come home to New England, but he was sent this very week to California (my current abode). Go figure! So, I looked for an adequate substitute online and found this marvelous monastery, founded by Lithuanian Franciscans, and a Franciscan Guest House on its grounds, where we are staying. After returning from Mass and breakfast, I dug into Ezekiel further since I had made it only as far as the first verse of the first chapter last week. Chapters 1-3 are fascinating, and I am happy that we will be reading them soon in our Bible Study Group. While I have focused on verses 20 and 21 of Chapter 3, all of Chapters 1-3 is needed to understand them in context.
20 “Again, when a righteous person turns from their righteousness and does evil, and I put a stumbling block before them, they will die. Since you did not warn them, they will die for their sin. The righteous things that person did will not be remembered, and I will hold you accountable for their blood.
21 But if you do warn the righteous person not to sin and they do not sin, they will surely live because they took warning, and you will have saved yourself.”
Reading: Ezekiel 3:20-21.

Meditation: I have no idea how people can interpret these strange visions that have appeared to the prophets throughout history. I had difficulty interpreting even the one, relatively simple, vision that was presented to me (see Goliath). It took months, someone else's help, and, finally, a locution. Ezekiel did, indeed, get some words to follow the vision, which helped him understand better.

The words are about telling people what God had said to tell them. More important, as one can see from the verses above, they are about obedience. The Israelites had ended up in their dire circumstances, taken from their promised land by the Babylonians, because they had been disobedient. God is now not only sending a warning to them but is also telling Ezekiel that he must deliver the message or be held accountable for not doing so.

Those verses took me back to my Goliath dilemma. I certainly did not want to deliver the message. I am sure, that my having done so, brought about in the minds of some the judgment I had wanted to avert: thinking of me as crazy. After all, it does sound a bit nuts to say to anyone, "God told me to tell you X." My son, Doah, does this frequently -- and I am sure, being as open as he is, he does get tasked -- but since he is mentally retarded, he is already labeled and does not know to worry about being labeled crazy. Maybe I should put all my education aside and become comfortable with Doah's approach. I think God sometimes can work with simple people much more easily than with complex ones because we latter put up all manner of barriers.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for giving me the fortitude to deliver a message that made me uncomfortable. I will praise God for the many ways in which He prepared me for doing that. I will ask God for greater discernment at times of His tasking, and I will repent for any and all hesitations I have had and barriers (I think, only temporary) I have put before Him. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #92: Seeing Visions

OK, so it is not Monday morning any longer in the most eastern parts of the US, but I managed to just get up on this fine holiday morning in California. After all, I rarely get to sleep in, and I truly enjoyed it this morning. Wishing all of you a happy Labor Day. After putting my feet on the floor as a result of the cats' insistence that I was really acting too much like a spoiled princess, I turned my thoughts to the MMM, and here I am. I have passed through Lamentations. It is just too good a morning to write about sorrows. I am not a sorrowful type person, anyway. I appreciate the good things that happen to me. As for the bad, well, that's life. I make the best of them that I can, and, with God's help, some of the bad turn into pretty good and even very good. So, instead of spending more time lamenting, I pushed on to the book of Ezekiel, where the very first verse seemed to be a great stopping place and worthy of meditation:
"In my thirtieth year, in the fourth month on the fifth day, while I was among the exiles by the Kebar River, the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God."
I stopped at this verse, which would seem to be incomplete without reading the rest of the story, because I cared less about the content of the vision than about the fact of the vision. Manifestations by and from God have intrigued -- and troubled -- me on a number of occasions since my conversion, which began with a manifestation (hierophany).

Reading: Ezekiel 1:1.

Meditation: Upon a number of occasions, I have been told by one supposedly knowledgeable person after another that God does not talk to ordinary people. One well known priest in southern California, who led a retreat I attended about St. Francis, went so far as to say that St. Francis was mistaken, that he did not really hear a voice, that this was a thought welling up from within him. He had no comment about the locutions received by St. Teresa of Avila, but I suppose he might have said the same. Fortunately, the priest to whom I had turned when I first received a locution disagreed with this southern Californian priest. I suspect, though, based upon the lay people and the religious whom I have encountered in the past five years that only a very small minority believes that God ever really talked to people and that in those cases it was only the Israelis of yore.

So, that, at time, causes me to ponder the issue of my own sanity. Then, something comes along to provide evidence that this was not a thought welling within me -- on most occasions, it would not be possible since the locution providedhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif information I had no way of knowing. (See, for ehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifxample, Voice VI on Modern Mysticism.) It also helps that Fr. Thomas Dubay, before his passing, wrote a wonderful book, Authenticity, in which he discusses locutions, touches, visions, and more, and that he responded to a letter in which I described my experiences, indicating that he thought that they were probably authentic. What has helped even more was a comment I read in some book (wish I could remember which one) that contended that God has not stopped talking to His people; we have just stopped listening.

I would suppose that one could say the same thing about visions. God has not stopped sending visions to His people; we have just stopped seeing.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for seeming insanity of what comes my way -- the visions and the locutions. I will praise God for the greatness of His love that He continues to trust me with these things even though each and every time I question them. I will ask God for greater trust and greater discernment and will repent for those times I have had too little of each. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #91: Look to God

This week I began reading the book of Lamentations. It is not a book that has had a strong impact on my life, except in the case of the story of Goliath, which I have related here below, when I asked God for verbal instruction and then opened the Bible to the Book of Lamentations where I did find some relevant verses. I suppose I could select nearly any verse for inclusion here since they all seem to be singularly focused on the pain felt by Israel after having been conquered, something which happened only because the majority of the population failed to heed the words of the prophet, Jeremiah, who gave the people of Israel warning and warning from God along with a description of what would happen to happen if they failed to follow God's words. Rather than focusing on God, however, they focused on themselves. Nowhere is the reason for their fate clearer than in chapter 4, verse 17:
"Moreover, our eyes failed,
looking in vain for help;
from our towers we watched
for a nation that could not save us."
Reading: Lamentations 4:17

Meditation: Of course, the nation could not save them. God could, though. But they did not look to God. They did not trust that God could or would save them. I wonder how often we try to save ourselves, waiting to turn to God until it becomes absolutely clear that we do not have the wisdom, strength, endurance, or forbearance to save ourselves. How many times do we give a problem to God and then worry about it? By worrying about it, we have essentially taken the problem back. As parents, we expect our children to grow up into full independence. At least, Western parents expect this. God, though, is a different kind of parent. God does not expect us to become independent as we mature in faith. In fact, the opposite is the case. God hopes that we will become more and more dependent as we learn that the only absolute source of safety and help is God. God is a parent like no other.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for the all-the-time, no-matter-what help that is mine for the asking. I will praise God for the greatness of His love that accepts me with all my weaknesses and even loves my weaknesses for they bring me to Him. I will ask God for less independence for, if I am anything, I am an independent sort -- and have been so, according to my mother, from the age of two. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #90: God's Love Is a Stern Love

Finishing Proverbs this week, I read through the entire book of Ecclesiastes. I did not stop there because I have written on many verses and chapters in that book in my book, Blest Atheist. So, I continued on to Song of Songs. During my conversion experience, I mistakenly looked into the Song of Songs when I was told to do some research about Solomon. (Yes, I know; Solomon did write Song of Songs, but it was not that information about Solomon that I was supposed to be checking out.) Quickly realizing that this was not the information I was seeking, I moved on to other books in the Bible, eventually finding what I was looking for in the book of Ecclesiastes. I had no further contact with the Song of Songs until this past weekend when my reading of it coincided with a retreat I attended on St. John of the Cross. At the retreat, I learned that St. John of the Cross was enamored with Bible was Song of Songs, and the priest who led it asked us to read this particular book as the basis for our lectio during one of our lectio divina sessions. From the entire book, the verse (or rather, portion thereof) that strikes me the most is Chapter 8, verse 8: "...for stern as death is love".



Reading: Song of Songs 8:8



Meditation: I had never conceived love as stern before, but thinking back on 41 years of marriage, I would have to conclude that I do not disagree. But this is not marital love. This is the love of God for His creation. If the Bible tells us nothing else, it tells us that God's love is stern. Not cruel. Not demanding. Not selfish. Just stern. God wants us to love Him so He can give us the expanseless love He has for us. It is the kind of stern love that a parent has for a child at varying stages of that child's development. Stern is good in my experience as a parent and as a recipient of God's love.



Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for a love that is deep enough to be stern, repenting for any times I have chafed under the sternness. I will praise God for the greatness of His love. I will ask God for greater understanding and a willingness to comply with His stern love. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.



I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:



Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)



For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Monday Morning Meditation #88: Pride Displeases God

During this week, I continued to read further in the book of Proverbs. I have started to run into some repetition among the verses. Nonetheless, I continue to enjoy the reading very much. Each pithy verse takes some time to process; so much is applicable to life today, well, to my life, for sure. In Chapter 6, I came across a short verse that deals with a problem I have been dealing with rather intensively these past two weeks and in general over the past two years. Verse 5 reads:
Every proud man is an abomination to the LORD; I assure you that he will not go unpunished.
Reading: Proverbs 16:5.



Meditation: The story is very long, but still, it is probably easier to include it in this post, as related in my forthcoming book rather than as related piecemeal over time on my Modern Mysticism blog, where I will continue with updates on the spiritual warfare saga of Goliath. I am sure, sigh, that it is far from over. In the interim, if you do not have time for a long story, skip on down to the "contemplation" section below. If you do, well, here is the story, so far:
At the time I met Goliath, I was volunteering at San Ignatio Shelter and Soup, often referred to as Triple S. Run by a Catholic non-profit foundation, Triple S provided beds and blankets to the homeless in San Ignatio, feeding them as well three simple meals each day.



Not long after I began volunteering at Triple S, Goliath came into power as my shift leader. I welcomed Goliath, hoping to learn much from him. We held, by organizational policy, informal semi-monthly meetings to discuss how we provided our services and to learn more about how others elsewhere ran shelters and food programs. I welcomed that opportunity, too. These meetings were also intended as opportunities for faith formation and confirmation; we were, after all, a religious foundation. Therefore, we always opened and closed our meetings with prayer and, considering that the nature of our work amounted to being God’s hands in that particular Salts neighborhood, often shared spiritual experiences arising from our work in addition to discussing the more mundane rules, changing city regulations, requirements imposed by our Board of Directors, and service improvements in general.



Since four of the six volunteers on our shift lived in San Ignatio, with the two others living in the next town over, I offered my modest home as a convenient meeting place. In the style into which the Russians and Arabs have trained me, I provided snacks for meetings and, I hoped, adequate hospitality.



Later, Goliath had found coming to San Ignatio on the extra occasions of the meetings to be inconvenient. Our meetings moved to his house 20 miles away in Salts. Once we were inside his spacious, rambling house, however, he oddly ushered us into a small, windowless, upstairs room for the entire meeting.



Goliath is soft-spoken and portrays himself as a good listener. In reality, he listens but does not hear. His cognitive deafness was less troublesome than his eyes. Whenever I would bring up a spiritual topic, he would look at me with vacant eyes. Later, others corroborated my experience with their own.



While the vacant eyes disturbed me on a subconscious level, I initially paid scant attention. After all, this was Goliath. He touted himself as spiritually mature and experienced. He was in training to be a deacon. Are not all such people the chosen of God? How can there be evil inside the Church, I wondered at that time. Now I have seen that where Good treads, there also hovers Evil. One may not sense the conjoining of Good and Evil because Evil cleverly and quietly awaits its opportunity.



After a number of meetings with Goliath, we volunteers started comparing notes. It seems that all of us had been perturbed by the same aspects of our meetings: formulaic prayer in limited amounts as if God's presence was not really wanted; a sense of God's absence; a feeling of uneasiness; a shared sense of Goliath as condescending and arrogant. Clearly, he did not like poor people, an attitude that extended to our entire shift since we came from a small and financially struggling Mexican-American town. In addition to volunteering at Triple S, many of our shift volunteers routinely emptied all the change from their shallow pockets into the coffers of the church or handed out their last dollar to someone on a street corner. None of this mattered to Goliath. He perhaps did not consider that the poor are also made in the image of God and that “whoever mocks the poor has contempt for their maker” (Proverbs 17:5). In fact, he seemed to despise the kinds of generosity that the spirituality of a mission town brings. All he could see was how shallow the pockets of some of our volunteers were. What oozed from deep inside him seemed to be hubris and ambition. (One is reminded of the secular ambition that confused St. Augustine, as he related in his Confessions, and kept him from God for many years.)



The travel to Goliath’s house for the team meeting strained the finances of some of our volunteers. Goliath, who could well afford to make the trip to San Ignatio, knew this but insisted that his own convenience took precedence over individual volunteers’ sacrifice. His complacent attitude, vacant eyes, and vacuous smile reminded me of the insensitive nurse in the movie, One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest.



At about this time, some of the volunteers began coming to me individually. Perhaps they sensed that as a manager in my professional life, I could provide some leadership skills they needed in dealing with Goliath. Perhaps it was because I drove them all to Salts. Perhaps it was all divinely motivated. I don't know. Knowing is not important.



The first to come was Eduardo. An emulatable example of humility, he scrambles to make a living. Taking time off for our distant meetings meant loss of pay, the greater distance to Goliath’s house adding up to more than an additional hour without pay. He accepted that sacrifice, but I felt it was unfair. His concern was the arrogant way in which Goliath interacted with us, as well as Goliath’s flippant remarks whenever Eduardo would relate a spiritual experience encountered while volunteering at Triple S. One can only guess at the reason for Goliath's condescension toward Eduardo—antipathy toward members of any but the upper socioeconomic classes, dislike of non-Caucasian ethnic groups, or simply discomfort with someone who is simple and close to God. The latter reason would get my vote, given Goliath’s shying away from spiritual discussions. Eduardo wanted me to go with him to talk to a priest we trusted. However, unfortunately, the priest ended up out of town for too long a period, and matters moved forward without what would surely have been a helpful consultation.



The next meeting Eduardo was unable to attend. Ditto for Nancy. So, of the four travelers from San Ignatio, Onyx and I were the only ones in the car. Onyx, also openly disdained by Goliath, likely because Onyx is a recovering alcoholic, unemployed, and still suffers from some aspects of a personality disorder, begged me to bring up the financial issues with Goliath and to ask him again to move the meetings back to San Ignatio. We all truly needed to attend team meetings and really wanted to do so, but the financial sacrifice was unbearable for most.



Unsure of how best to approach the situation, I pulled over and called my Bible Studies leader, who led a different Triple S shift. He, too, felt that I should raise the concerns to Goliath. He also felt that Goliath should be given the benefit of a doubt and a chance to rectify the problems. He offered to approach Goliath on our behalf, and in hindsight, perhaps I should have opted for that approach. However, at the time, I felt that Onyx and I could reason with Goliath. So, near the end of the meeting, I brought up our concerns.



The response shocked me. Goliath insisted that it was his right as the shift leader to have the meetings at a time and place that was convenient to him regardless of how difficult it was for others. He was the most important person in the group he repeatedly stated even though no one was challenging him over his importance. Then he suggested that if we did not like it, we could leave the foundation until we were ready to do things his way. He recommended that especially I leave. Well, there we had something to mull over.



A couple of days later, Nancy called me to find out what had happened at the meeting. Before I could tell her about the awkward discussion, she volunteered that she had not come with us because she was uneasy being around Goliath in his house. "Would you let your daughter go into his house?" she asked.



Practicing the presence of God in the vein of Brother Lawrence is something I do all the time. However, with Nancy’s question I realized the source of the uneasiness felt by all of us: God was not with us in Goliath's house. In fact, I lost the sense of God's presence when I opened the door to go into Goliath's house and regained it when I walked out of Goliath's house. What I was feeling while there, what Nancy did not want to expose her daughter to seemed to be a sense of Evil. I don't want to say that Goliath is evil since I doubt that it is so. Rather, his profound lack of humility, i.e. root sin of pride, may have allowed Evil to take up residence around him, if not within him, and lead him where otherwise he might know better than to go. Certainly, it seemed that Goliath was controlled by Evil: his spooky way of speaking in a soft, flat monotone, his empty eyes, and his avoidance of spiritual discussion (substituting for it discussions of "rules," "requirements," and his own worldly experiences). Nancy and I discussed whether or not to continue exposing ourselves to this unhealthy environment at the required team meetings.



Following this discussion with Nancy, I prayed for direction. I was puzzled by the response. A sharp image appeared before me: Jesus overturning the tables in the temple. What was that supposed to mean? I prayed again. The image repeated.



I left the question unresolved for several days, then once again turned to God for help. Again, that same image appeared. I did not know how to interpret it, and the priest to whom I would have turned was out of town. I shared it with our Bible Studies leader, but he did not know how to interpret the image, either.



That image brought not only puzzlement but also feelings of anger. They did not seem to be resident feelings but rather something that bubbled out of seeing that image. What I knew about anger did not seem to apply here. Rohrer and Sutherland in Facing Anger claim that anger represents a protestation against loss of self-esteem. Self-esteem was not at issue in the case of Goliath nor in the image of Jesus in the temple. Whitehead and Whitehead in Seasons of Strength define anger as both a feeling and a way of behaving. That latter attribute somewhat reflects the kind of anger that emanated from the temple image but still did not encompass a full explanation.



I continued to pray about the matter, and my next prayer brought another experience of the same image as well as something new: a sense of needing to do something. After all, the image and story were of Jesus doing something. So, I sent an e-note to Goliath, reiterating, perhaps too stridently—the influence of those feelings coming from the image—the requests that had been made of him at the previous meeting. He responded by phoning all the others in a divide-and-conquer, intimidate-where-possible, make-promises-in-other-cases power play that only drove them to me for help in combating what they had perceived as attempted manipulation. I wrote again and repeated, more stridently, my earlier requests and perhaps too forthrightly told him of our concerns—well, most of them: I hesitated to mention the sense I had of Evil surrounding him. Goliath continued to refuse to put anything into writing and asked for a phone call so that he could tell me how he expected me to behave. I countered by agreeing to discuss matters with him but only with all concerned present since his individual phone calls turned out, when we conferred with one another, to have relayed conflicting information. He demurred.



As a team, we decided to write a letter about our concerns to the Board of the Directors. I prayed about the letter. Again, I got the same image. Understanding by now that this was some kind of tasking being given to me but not understanding what the task was supposed to be considerably disconcerted me, and the priest to whom I would have turned was still out of town.



Nancy and I wrote the letter, trying to keep it objective, non-accusatory, and focused on resolution of the issues that were troubling us—all except the issue of evil, which probably was the core of the problem. We were hesitant to commit that to paper, but we knew we had to bring it up at some point. So, we asked for a meeting with the Board to discuss details more fully. Eduardo signed the letter but after overt intimidation from Goliath, retracted his signature.



Goliath knew about the letter to the Board because I had told him about it in an effort to be fair to him. Armed with this knowledge, he preempted action from his peers by going directly to the regional committee that provided oversight to our Board, presenting a biased case of what was going on, taking my emails but not the letter that requested a meeting with the Triple S Board of Directors and failing to disclose the content of his phone calls to others that prompted my emails. Of course, the regional committee knew nothing about the images I was receiving.



The regional committee wrote a letter to the local Board members with a cowardly cc to me, directing them to support Goliath and suggesting I be dropped from the rolls of volunteers, using a string of unflattering epithets to describe me even though they had never met me. They claim to have prayed about the matter before writing the letter, but the uncharitable words and lack of example-setting indicate to me that, like so many who ask God for help and then don’t listen for an answer, they went ahead with what they themselves wanted to do. Or, perhaps they were suffering from a form of illuminism: they considered that only they had a “special light” from the Holy Spirit and therefore they were right and I (and the other volunteers) wrong.



I assumed that deafness, arrogance, or illuminism, rather than the Holy Spirit, motivated them because it seems strange that God would have sanctioned such an ignorant and uncharitable response after having led me to do what I did. Even if I were mistaken in interpreting God’s will—which can always be the case, given that I am not capable of perfect discernment—their vicious response was not in keeping with anything biblical. As St. Paul cautioned the Ephesians, “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up as fits the occasion that it may give grace to those that hear” (Ephesians 4:29).



Perhaps God allowed them to proceed in this uncharitable manner because, in the words of C. J. Mahaney (Humility: True Greatness), “there’s truth to be gained from an enemy’s critique. Humility doesn’t demand mathematical precision from another’s input; humility postures itself to receive God’s grace from every avenue possible.” I am now willing to consider that God might have meant to teach me a lesson concurrently with sending Goliath a message, considering that I could have better heeded St. Paul’s words in my choice of words in my notes to Goliath. I can be satisfied with that possibility, even receiving the lesson with gratitude. Were I to question the value of God allowing what could be looked upon as humiliation, the words of deCaussade (The Joy of Full Surrender) would cause me to question my questioning:



Those who are enlightened by faith judge things in a very different way from those who have only their senses to guide them. . . . the soul that recognizes the will of God in even the smallest circumstances, even in those that are most distressing and fatal, receives them all with equal joy, pleasure, and respect. That soul throws open all its doors to receive with honor what others fear and fly from in horror. . . . Those who have this disposition adore God with redoubled love and respect, even in the greatest humiliation. The louder the senses exclaim, “this cannot be from God,” the closer they press this bundle of myrrh from the hand of the bridegroom.



At the time, though, when I received a copy of the letter from the regional committee, I threw I away without reaction. Not addressed to me, it proceeded from false assumptions, including the statement that I was unwilling to obey God. (In this case, I feared that they were equating Goliath with God.) I had no desire to take them to task for their harsh words or even to respond to the mean caricatures of me. Had they deigned to talk to me, however, we could perhaps have clarified this ironic misconception. I may have not done things as skillfully as someone else might have done them, but I had definitely tried to follow Meister Eckhart’s injunction that “you ought to go wholly out [away] from your own will.” Failing to put truth before convenient assumption, the regional committee lost an opportunity to demonstrate Christian charity or to engender a mathemagenic discussion on the often inscrutable will of God.



Somehow, in this tussle, the letter Nancy and I had written had become misplaced. So, there was no meeting with the Board. Nancy and I talked about walking away, but that action did not seem to be the kind of response the image I was receiving would prompt.



Then, Nancy ran into one of the Board members, Laura, in a bookstore in another city. (None of us can convince ourselves that this meeting was coincidental.) Out tumbled Nancy's concerns, to which Laura told Nancy the history: Goliath had not been their choice to be shift leader but had appropriated the position for himself in a bullying manner that left some of the Board members appalled but without recourse. At least some of the Board members were as uncomfortable in Goliath's presence as we were! Here was news!



Laura asked Nancy to convince me to call her. I called from Washington, where I happened to be at the time, and we talked for more than an hour. Encouraged, I told Laura everything up to that point, including the image of Jesus overturning tables in the temple, sharing that I just could not make any sense of the image other than the feeling that I was supposed to do something related to it. Laura had an interesting interpretation: "I think it means that God does not like evil infiltrating His organization." That was the first time that the word "evil" had been spoken. Before Laura hung up, I had promised to meet with the Board.



Long after the incident with Goliath had reached a zenith and subsided, someone pointed out to me that when Jesus called the temple a “den of thieves,” he was referring to two things. First, selling animals for sacrifices was a desecration of the Lord’s house. Second, the poor, loved by Jesus, were denigrated in the temple sales for they could not afford to buy the kinds of “nice” sacrifices that the wealthy could. The latter thought made sense when it came to the aptness of the image to Goliath: Goliath recoiled from the poor and volunteered at Triple S from a sense of duty, not from a feeling of love.



After I hung up with Laura, I complained to God: "Lord, You know that I am a verbal learner. I need words, not pictures, to understand. I will try to grow in the ways you seem to want me to, but in this case, I really need verbal input. I suppose You know that. I just want to mention it in case you might think that I am smarter than I really am."



Then I drew bath water, the remaining ritual of the day. As the water filled the tub, I debated whether to take into the tub with me a book that I was partway through reading or the Bible.



"My Word." Out of nowhere came the Voice, startling me as usual.



So, the Bible it was. I haphazardly opened the Bible and found myself staring at a passage I had never read before: Ezekial 30. As I read through the chapter, a lament for Egypt and God's threat of destruction, I saw many parallels to my own situation. Once again, a prayer had been answered. I had words, not an image—except, uh-oh, as I read, I became less certain of my interpretation. Here was a tale of arrogance punished. Certainly, Goliath's arrogance deserved to be punished, but the adjective used in the verse was "her," referring to a nation, Egypt. Now, Goliath was definitely a "he," and I am definitely a "she," but in most historical documents, nations are frequently referred to as “she.” So, confusion appeared anew.



Once again, I cried out for help in exasperation at myself for not being able to understand what was apparently supposed to be obvious. "So, Lord, whom do You see as arrogant? Me or Goliath?"



And then, once again, I heard that Voice, which I have come to love and trust, yet which causes me to jump out of my skin whenever I hear it and which almost always sets me scurrying off for help to confirm authenticity. Only this time, I was far away from home and from anyone who could help. I did, however, get an answer to my question.



The Voice said, "Let Goliath know he cannot treat My people this way." As with other locutions, every single word is seared into my memory forever.



Now that I had what seemed to be clarity, I definitely had to let Goliath know. Whatever were to happen to me or my reputation (people tend to think you are nuts if you tell them that you experience locutions), I would carry out any tasking that so much effort had gone into making clear. Although I sincerely wished I did not have to do this, it would be, as the Russians say, skazano, sdelano (literally, said-done, i.e. no sooner said than done.)



When I returned, Eduardo, laboring under the misassumption that I might stop volunteering at Triple S, asked to speak to me urgently. He told me that he had been praying about the situation and was certain that I was supposed to finish what I had started. For some reason, Eduardo thought it meant I should stay long-term at Triple S, but I understood it to mean that I was supposed to see the tasking through to its finish: discuss Goliath’s maltreatment of God’s people with the Board.



The morning of the meeting with the Board, to which Nancy, bless her soul, accompanied me, I was understandably nervous, knowing that I would have to talk about things mystical and not knowing whether the other Board members would be as accepting of them as Laura had been. Nancy and I attended the same Mass that morning. There, the person leading the choir made a mistake (or was it a mistake?) and gave the wrong page number for the last hymn we were to sing. The song we ended up singing was "Be Not Afraid." Several of the powerful images in that song brought a sense of strength, comfort, and, most important, confidence:



Be not afraid.

I go with you always.

Come, follow me.

And I will give you rest.



Nancy asked me after Mass if I had picked up on the mistake and its possible significance. Of course! I also was aware that in Biblical times a message or task sent from God was usually preceded by the words, “Be not afraid!” from the messenger. Obviously, I am not the only one to experience apprehension when greeted with divine intervention.



I found that once we were at the meeting, with Goliath present as well, I was not afraid. I did not feel alone. Of course, the support of Nancy and Laura helped, as did the clear willingness of the other Board members to listen to our concerns, especially Rebecca, who had learned in advance of our concerns through Laura. Laura and Rebecca controlled Goliath admirably during the meeting. Even more helpful, I also felt God's presence (for the first time in the same room with Goliath), and I find God’s presence an incredible comfort. I methodically explained everything that had occurred: the discussions among the volunteers, the purpose of the letters, and the image I had been seeing in response to prayers. I told the Board about my plea for clarification and God’s words to me. Then, I paused to take a breath, and looking Goliath in his vacant eyes, I said, "Goliath, you cannot treat God's people this way. God tasked me to tell you this." There, it was said!



In that moment, a strange thing happened. Goliath's face went through multiple distortions. I am not talking about him changing expressions. Rather, his physical face contorted in ways I had never seen before except in movies: fluid morphing. I wondered if I was nuts after all. However, afterward, Nancy confirmed that she had also seen the morphing of Goliath’s face. I took comfort in the fact that we both had observed this seemingly impossible phenomenon. Later, I wondered if perhaps these facial distortions were a reflection of a fight within Goliath’s soul, hopefully nothing more than a reflection of human pride and Goliath’s efforts to contain it.



The outcome was definitely worth completing the tasking. I realized that our Board of Directors does accept mystical experiences as one way God chooses to communicate with some people. Goliath began conducting meetings in San Ignatio, and another shift leader came to the meetings to mentor Goliath. The following year, Goliath decided to step down as shift leader.



Afterward, though, I questioned whether I was right in my interpretation, understanding of being tasked, and manner of accomplishing the task. I wished I had had the opportunity to take this to a spiritual advisor who could test the authenticity of what I saw, read, and heard. In the end, everything seemed compellingly clear, but I suppose that could be a deception. Others agreed with my interpretation, but that, too, could be a deception. At least, though, what I had done—properly or improperly—did lead to a good result.



There was another positive outcome: Laura, Rebecca, Nancy, and I became friends. We now meet periodically for dinner. I have been blessed with a friendship that would not have formed had I not been willing to let Goliath know he cannot treat God’s people this way.”



Just when I thought my task was complete, I realized that I had no idea how I should relate to Goliath from then on. So, I asked God what to do. In response, I heard two words that absolutely flabbergasted me: "Love him."



Thereupon popped out my usual incredulous response, “Lord, You want me to do what? You must be kidding!”



Forgive him? Certainly! But love him? After everything I had been through? Love him when I seem to have been tasked to de-claw him? Love him when he wanted me out of the way, completely gone, and referred to me only in the most scathing terms, deliberately pulling the regional committee into his camp through carefully manipulated information and Pharisaic posturing? Love him when I feel Evil pulling at him to the point that I recoil? Lord, You are indeed inscrutable! First, You tell me to take him to task, and now You tell me to love him!



If God said to love him, though, I realized I would have to learn to do that. I began to pray for Goliath. I began to hug him even though from his side the response was always a cold, mechanical, public gesture. I hope that what I give is not the same, but it is admittedly not yet some kind of passionate embrace. Lord, how do you define love?



Yes, I know, in part, the answer to this question—agape, i.e. the pure love of God for mankind, which we are called to emulate. I know, too, as St. Paul told believers in Corinth, “These three remain: faith, hope, and love; the greatest of these is love.” I know these things. Bringing them to pass within myself, however, is often beyond my capacity. For that, I have to lean on God.



What I do know for certain is that God loves Goliath, just as surely as God loves my mother, so succinctly expressed in the words, “she lives in grace.” I suppose that is part and parcel of the new covenant, a pact of love and forgiveness, embodied in the life of Jesus. While a part of me would like to judge the fairness of God’s love shining on all alike, I will not. God has not asked me to give anything that I have not received. I look forward to the day that I can enjoy the “delightful peace” that deCaussade asserts will ensue “when we have learned by faith to find God through all his creatures as through a transparent veil.”



If the purpose of the task was to change Goliath’s behavior, apparently, it has succeeded, no matter how poorly carried out. Eduardo, who continued to attend team meetings, told me that the meetings improved and that Goliath is not the same person. Praise be to God if that is true!



In hearing Eduardo’s words, I felt a rush of love for Goliath and a great gratitude to God. I can lean on God, and I can learn to love those for whom I feel no natural affinity. And even if I fumble a task, God will use my efforts somehow to bring it to the desired closure.



One underestimates the tenacity of Satan, however, at one’s own risk. Our organization recently had a change in leadership, and, apparently feeling emboldened, Goliath reverted to his old ways. Satan seems to have gifted Goliath with the charism of deception so that those who do not know him well gravitate toward his dissemblance of meekness, allowing Satan’s purposes to be accomplished. Finally, I understand, at least in greater part, what is happening in our organization and why God pitted me (and, thankfully, a few other volunteers) against Goliath. There is a serious spiritual battle going on, not only among our local volunteers but also at higher levels of leadership. Satan is using Goliath as his local champion. Why? Because he can. Just as God can use me and others like me to combat Goliath.



I also understand now why God wants me to love Goliath. Goliath is not the evil one. Rather, his overweaning pride allow him, likely unknowingly and, I would guess, not by desire, to be used by the Evil One. Clearly, loving Goliath and praying for him is critical to helping him loose himself from the bonds of Satan and to returning our organization to spiritual health.



I imagine our organization is not unique. Otherwise, I would have spent fewer words relating the story of Goliath.

Contemplation: That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I now retire to private prayer to thank God for trusting me with Goliath (likely along with others about whose efforts I do not know). I will praise God for all he has taught me about pride, humility, love, and sacrifice. I will ask God to teach me more for surely I will need more. Finally, I will repent of my own moments of pride, which have done no one much good, including me. Then I will move on to contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.



I will leave you now to your prayer and contemplation. First, though, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:



Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I think you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts. (During the week, he also posts great homilies and other thoughtful discussions. I enjoy reading those, too, as do readers of this blog who have taken the stroll over to his blog.)



For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs on my sidebar and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.