May I let go of my self identity and my privilege , at least for a moment, that I might hear the bigger truth spoken by those whose voices society has silenced.

Why Wait:  Every time I have read this story, I was so sure that Jesus was waiting to create a dramatic effect. And whenever another person waited, I assumed all sorts of motives: indecision, lack of courage, fear, resistance…. The assumptions often came immediately, with no hesitation on my part. How could I have assumed that I could know another’s motives?  Or even (especially?) my own. Waiting attentively and honestly has the potential to reveal the truth.

“The First Knowing”. It is a little white candle with hands in a prayer position. The wick has long since disappeared. I feel certain that my dad gave her to me when I was very  young. I call her the first knowing, what my soul knew at my birth. The knowing that got covered over by life; by striving and doing and seeking. It is in the silence that this first knowing is gradually uncovered and my true self slowly revealed. It is a process that cannot be hurried or controlled. However, I can choose to ignore it or disrupt it by distractions or doubts. So I keep the little angel nearby as an invitation to enter the silence often, meeting the first knowing again and again.

Jesus chose to share his divinity and to entrust his message with a person marginalized by the larger society. What do I learn when I go to the margins, the margins of my society, the margins of my own self?  Do I pay attention?

“They saw only Jesus”. Yet the apostles carried that moment of divine presence as they accompanied Jesus down the mountain and into daily life. There are times in our communal silence when we become aware of a Presence that we often fail to notice in the day to day. However, like the apostles, we are invited to recognize that Presence among us – not as something to cling to, but as something that gives us the grace to see that Presence in all creation, in the ordinary moments of our lives.

The Tao Te Ching was the guiding philosophy of the originator of tai chi chih, a meditative movement practice. The practice invites me to surrender to the chi or energy that moves all things. It is the life force within and without. For me, it is grace. Combining this practice that engages the body with silent prayer that further empties me of effort and ego gives me a way of staying in and then moving through those desert times. Reading these passages today reminds me that there are many traditions and practices available to me – to all of us – as we pass through the deserts of our lives.

it was 1951. A 17 year old girl, barely out of high school, joined a Carmelite monastery. In those days, women did not leave their convent or enclosure. They were not able to pursue higher education. Their days were filled with silence. In 1969, against all odds and amidst opposition from most male clergy, she helped form the Association of Contemplative Sisters.  This was the beginning of cloistered nuns reaching across boundaries of tradition and geography for mutual support and shared wisdom. A few years ago, this same woman(Constance Fitzgerald, OSC) wrote extensively about Lady Wisdom. The depth of her courage and insight arose from years of silence where she became steeped in the Mystery. I am reminded of St Clare of Assisi who once said, “My theology of God is my experience of God”. These two women were not talking about “Centering Prayer “, but they were certainly practicing it and living out of it. We are in good company.  (Revised from previous post).

It was 191. A 17 year old girl, ha sly out of high school, joined a Carmelite  monastery in those days, women did it l Ave their convent. They did it pursue further education  Their days were filled with silence. In 1969 , against all odds, she helped form the Association of Contemplative Sisters. A few years ago, she wrote extensively aboutLadyWisdom. The depth of her courage  and insight arose from years of silence- where she became steeped in the Mystery.

Like Herod, we often protect our way of life, our sense of security. We might not use physical violence, but we often find fault with those who are poor, unhoused, suffer from addiction or mental illness. We look away when we happened upon them. We try to convince ourselves that they are not like us.  Can we go another way?  See the “other” differently, walk by places where they are, greet them, look at them?  Here in Sacrsmento about 350,000 are without power. Our privileged way of life blown away with the wind.

“This is not a privatized journey”. I became acquainted with Word of the Week in mid March.  With many of the traditional worship services temporarily discontinued, it seemed like a good time to explore alternatives. I assumed that participating in a prayer group on Zoom would feel lonely. How wrong I was!  I quickly realized that I could feel the silence of the others, regardless of where they were physically located. Week after week, I felt the communal silence and the support of people  I had never met in person.  It became clear that my journey was their journey, a journey shared by all creation. That realization has been the greatest and most surprising gift of this most difficult and unique time. I am grateful to each person who has been part of this gift.

Mary Anne,

 

You were the first person to greet me when I ventured into Word of the Week in mid March. A friend had told me about it, so I took a chance. All of this was new to me: the 25 minutes of centering prayer, the lectio and the sharing. All done in a envelope of silence   I was taken aback when I realized that I could feel the  silence of the others.  Then I was reminded that prayer is energy and it knows no barriers of time or place. After that first time, I could not stay away. The 25 minutes was a struggle for me since I am a person of movement and words. Gradually, I was able to surrender to the quiet within. So, please know that your gentle welcome and  the depth of your own silence made a big difference. And I have registered for the Contemplative Writing  Course beginning next month. Writing is an important part of my journey and, with 9 months of Word of the Week as a starting point, I am feeling ready. So, many thanks for the person you are and the difference you have made in my life. I shall miss you on the Zoom screen.  But, I trust I will meet you in the silence.

“Comfort. Give my people comfort. “. Advent is a season of promise. And the promise of comfort during these times touches a communal longing. During these dark months of the pandemic, the racial unrest, the poverty, the uncertainty, we seek comfort. And so we wait. Wait for that first glimmer of light. The light that tells us that our waiting is coming to an end. That comfort will be ours to receive and to share.

I am a California native. In addition, I spent 8 years in Florida. So, winters in Albany, New York seemed much longer and darker than any other winters I had experienced.

 

It seemed that dusk began at 3 PM and then, ever so slowly, moved into darkness. It was the expectation of darkness, not the  darkness itself, that was foreboding. I often went inside at the beginning of the dusk and stayed there until it was fully dark. No matter the temperature, no matter my mood, dusk always brought chills. The physical shivers as the sun moved lower in the sky and the temperature dropped. But it was the inner chills that were filled with the dread of the unknown, the resistance to the impending  coldness of soul. It was those chills that I could never quite accept or trust. I am back in California now, but I often think of that northeastern dusk as our days get shorter. I realize now that the dusk was an invitation into a deeper part of me and of God.  Perhaps during this  Advent, I will be able to touch that dusky place and learn from it.

“The Incarnation is ongoing”. The mystical body is also a physical body. The body of our brothers and sisters, around the globe and in our backyard. In these times, this body is crying out for attention, for healing, for love. If we are the body of Christ, we must hear and answer this cry.

In his memoir, President Obama describes the generation of Martin Luther  King, Jr as the Moses generation and the current generation as the Joshua generation. It is our sacred duty to always keep the promised land of justice within view. And, with hope, know that the incarnation is ongoing.

During Word of the Week this morning, I learned something important. When a familiar parable is shared communally, first in silence and then with words, something new emerges and the parable becomes richer. Today, I heard: “It is never too late. There is always another chance.  Let no one be locked out”. And “We all run out of oil at one time or another, so let us share what we have with those who have not, without judgment.”  Gratitude to all who shared their wisdom this morning.

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