Intercessions ~ First Sunday in Lent

Lent,/ the Church's Springtime,/ has begun./ We pray to experience something personal that we might call warming,/ melting,/ greening/ or simply,/ change./ We pray to the Lord.

As March begins/ we pray for our families and friends,/ and for those who celebrate birthdays,/ anniversaries and other days of remembrance,/ asking good health, safety and peace./ We pray to the Lord.

As India and the United States sign a three billion dollar military equipment deal,/ we pray for Pope Francis, who has said, "Countries that sell arms have no right to talk about peace."/ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for the President of the United States,/ our Congress and candidates for public office./ We ask boldly for leaders who are of clean heart and mind,/ freed of corruption,/ lies and greed./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for the sick,/ mindful of the countries where the coronavirus is spreading./ For the safety of the many people who help others to heal./ For those who are addicted,/soul-sick,/ or whose relationships are toxic./ We pray to the Lord.

Remembering the 1965 Voters Rights March from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama,/ we pray for our nation,/ whose original sin is racial prejudice./ We pray to be healed of hatred./ We pray to the Lord.

Duccio's Christ In His Farewell Teaching ~ Some Thoughts

Click on Duccio's painting of Christ in His Farewell Discourse to the Apostles for some shared thoughts - about 11 minutes. I might suggest opening the painting to a full screen.

The Glenstal Abbey Christ ~ Will you join me?

This icon of Christ Pantocrator (Christ the Ruler) is venerated in the crypt-chapel of the the Benedictine Monks of Glenstal Abbey in Ireland.  So I begin the day, while it is still dark, silent before the icon which is teaching me the truth of Carl Jung's insight:

"We should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling. Therefore, the judgment of the intellect is, at best, only half the truth, and must, if it be honest, also come to an understanding of its inadequacy."  C.G. Jung ~ Psychological Types

Join me in the gazing. In Christ, God now has a human face. It is an all-compassionate face. His eyes understand as he steps up to the window's edge where heaven and earth touch. His side is burnished; our side is charred. Did you notice?

In Christ, there is no longer earth-here and heaven-there. He blesses us with his right hand. His all-merciful eyes jump the gap. The opened Gospel book reveals the text: "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest."  Mt. 11:28 

Many people visit the Glenstal icon and claim it to be a source of healing. I don't doubt it. But while we pray for our dear ones who are sick, may we also hope for our own healing—may we be healed of our confident indocility, energy-stealing anxieties, compulsions, addictions, indifference, resentments. Standing before the icon in cyber-presence, may we pray for the world and our nation, afflicted from within.

~ ~ ~

The compassionate eyes of Christ,
looking up—
seeing the vast crowd and
healing all the sick.

The tender eyes of Christ,
noticing
the widowed mother
and saying to her,
"Don't be afraid."

The pitying eyes of Christ,
greeting the kneeling leper,
excluded and shamed,
and saying, "I do will it; be clean."

The benevolent eyes of Christ,
stopping in all the towns and villages,
the marginal places—
shepherding eyes of inclusion.

Forbearing eyes of Christ,

shine light into the world's wounds
of militarization,
child neglect,
bio-destruction,
runaway greed,
gross vanity,
the feeble souls.

Warm eyes of Christ,
melt the hearts
frozen with hatred,
gross stupidity, 
blind loyalty.

Empathic eyes of Christ,
revealing your broken heart,
your deeply-moved,
pitying heart
for our en-flamed world,
our cultural suffocation.

Understanding eyes of Christ,
how have we come to this—
that we have so failed 
the planet-gift,
that the news we create is so cruel,
that we can't seem to get it right?

Curative eyes of Christ,
in our disorientation,
bewilderment,
misery,
unhappiness,
despite the braggadocio of 
greatness
and economic wonder.

Fellow-feeling eyes of Christ,
access to God's gut-churned heart
for our sickness,
our coarse humanity,
our savagery—
the president expands the use of landmines,
the punished boy found dead in the garage,
the swan kicked to death—
   her mate,
   her cygnets plying the stream, searching—
our idiotic sense of humor.

My desperate, crying heart knows your icon is the way.
And so I run to you this morning, 
God of hearts—
to meet you,
to greet you
in your caring gaze,
your merciful,
healing eyes.

Intercessions ~ Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lent,/ the Church's Springtime/ begins this week./ We pray for some personal experience of inner warming,/ thawing,/ greening and growing,/ as God sees fit./ We pray to the Lord.

Standing with one another at Mass today,/ may we sense deeply our encounter with the Lord in the Word/ and the Bread and the Wine./ May we know this encounter to be personally relevant/ as a new week opens to us./ We pray to the Lord.

As he strives to keep hope alive/ and our eyes fixed on the Lord Jesus,/ we pray for Pope Francis to be kept in safety,/ strength and peace./ We pray to the Lord.

For the President of the United States,/ our Congress and those seeking public office this year./ May we re-discover the roots of our national identity,/ which is defined by inclusion./ We pray to the Lord.

We ask health and strength for the sick,/ mindful of those from among our families and friends./ For the  children who are sick,/ and those who in their weakness have no friend or support./ We pray to the Lord.

Grant that we would be kept free of blind loyalties,/ may we remain stout-hearted,/ merciful,/ kind and joyful in these dark times./ We pray to the Lord.

Intercessions ~ Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lent begins in eleven days./ May we set out towards Easter/ desiring the renewal of our hearts and minds./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for Pope Francis who will travel to Malta in May./ We pray as well for that island nation/ which traditionally welcomes with generosity/ those who flee from war and poverty/ across the Mediterranean Sea./ We pray to the Lord.

For the President of the United States,/ our Congress,/ and those in positions of authority across the nation./ In an election year we ask for candidates to public office who will be agents of national unity./ We pray to the Lord.

In a time of climate crisis,/ bless the human efforts to secure the well-being of the planet-home God has filled with living things/ and entrusted to our care./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for our country where life is made difficult and painful by the dark passions Jesus forbids in the gospel today:/ anger,/ lust of many kinds,/ and dishonest speech./ Breaking out of our tribes and parties,/ may we learn to trust and love one another again./ We pray to the Lord.

For the comforting of the sick,/ the freeing of those trafficked and enslaved,/ the healing of our inner wounds,/ the enlightening of consciences and minds sealed in darkness./ We pray to the Lord.

Witch Hazel and Saint Isaac's Encouragement

When you attain to the region of tears,
 then know that your mind has left the prison of this world 
and has set its foot on the roadway of the new age. 
St. Isaac the Syrian

During last week's winter weather, I went out into my garden to make this short video of the snow coming down on the coppery -orange Witch Hazel which is blooming profusely in February. Notice how the snow looks like bits of silver foil. The sound you hear is a nearby stream. Have you ever been stopped by somethng so beautiful it moves you to tears? St. Isaac sees the deep value of those moments.

The saint writes, "When you attain..." The word attain comes from the Latin attingere—to touch.  So, "When you touch the region of tears..." What's that? It is that inner space where we are capable of the deepest sense-ing and silent appreciation. The region of tears, is the capacity (the power?) we have for feeling. Many people never cultivate that capacity, or they equate it with sentiment rather than deep looking, listening and discovering. 

And when you touch the region of tears, know that you have left the prison of this world.  What's that? It's our bubble-world of endless opinionating; our world of aggression; of selling and scheming to buy, get and own; the prison of our prestige, our pride-world; the superficial laugh-a-thon world; the prison which looks away, which chooses to stay ignorant—even comfortably stupid; our eating—like grazing, our cult-world of personalities and power; of living by violence and planet destruction for our greed. 

And has set its foot on the roadway of the new age. What is this new age? Jesus proclaims God's kingdom, which is my life, indeed, this very moment of my life, synchronized with the heartbeat of God. I want to live in that. St. Paul writes: 

"My brothers and sisters, I need only add this. If you believe in goodness and if you value the approval of God, fix your minds on whatever is true and  honourable and just and pure and lovely and admirable." 

My prayer for you (and myself) this week: May you come upon your own Witch Hazel-in-Snow moment, something so good and lovely that your "region of tears" is touched.

The Bogolyubovo Mother of God

Here is the icon of the Mogolyubovo Mother of God. the story surrounding the icon is long and convoluted: a grand prince, heavenly demands, a church built to commemorate a vision, a variety of monasteries, convents, rivers and cities, physical healings, the icon is here then the icon is there. I'm not sure what all of that means. I love the icon and want to be more than an admire-r of it and its story. What of its spiritual content for us today—a spiritual content which is more than calling the image wonder-working.

Here, we see the Mother of God standing on the far left. She is like a great and strong pillar. She is one of us, wearing a brown-red maphorian, the color of the ground from which humankind is made. Mary looks up into the far right corner where the heavens open and Jesus, streaked with divinity, appears in an orb of light. The Mother of God holds a long scroll filled with the petitions and concerns of the monks who cluster prayerfully at her feet. The scroll Jesus holds contains the same list of petitions. Saints Zosimus and Sabbatius stand with the monks. They are the founders of the monastery which gleams with prayer.

Notice the monastery, the monks and the Mother of God are standing on an island—their patch of land is surrounded by water. Island dwellers can live rugged lives. And look, all throughout the icon there wonderful plants and even the mountain and the rocky places are touched with light. Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, "Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God. But only he who sees takes off his shoes. The rest sit round and pluck blackberries."   

But what are the monks' petitions written on the dual scrolls? Let's not wait for someone with a magnifying glass to tell us, let's imagine. Perhaps: 

O Lady, may we have clean hearts. 

May we love one another in this place, as Jesus has instructed us. 

May the world beyond be at peace. 

May we care for this island-home of your appearance—charged with life and beauty. 

May we be protected from the inner plagues of exhaustion, bitterness and complaint. 

May we not live in a tiny bubble world—thinking ourselves to be entitled or better than others.

May we see your son's face in the strangers who make their way across the waters.
May our hearts be synchronized with yours.

Spiritual themes are perennial, aren't they?

Intercessions ~ Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Tuesday is World Day of the Sick./ And so we pray for the sick,/ mindful of the suffering caused by the spreading coronavirus./ For the sick who are left untended./ May those who care for others in their illness/ be strengthened and protected./ We pray to the Lord.

Wednesday is the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes,/ the Virgin Mary having appeared to Bernadette in 1858./ The grotto there resembles a great ear./ May we grow in our desire to hear God's word deeply/ and the suffering of persons around the world./ We pray to the Lord.

For Pope Francis,/ the world's bishops,/ and all who minister in the Church./ We ask for Christians to regard and love each other,/ as Baptized members of Christ's family./ We pray to the Lord

We ask for world leaders who are un-corrupted,/ who speak the truth,/ whose concerns and energies are not for self-gain,/ but for the good of all people./ In an election year/ we pray for those who seek public office./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for those countries where there is drought,/ fire,/ flood, famine,/ war or fear,/ where human persons are degraded./ We ask for healing/ where there is a resurgence of racism and anti-semitism./ We pray to the Lord.

In the time of liturgical green,/ may our minds grow into the mind of Christ./ May we put away old thinking which serves only to comfort and protect ourselves,/ keeping us from the breadth of Christ's love./ We pray to the Lord.

Duccio's ~ Jesus Calls Peter and Andrew

Here is another panel from Duccio di Buoninsegna's Maesta (Majesty) altarpiece which was created in the  early 14th century in Sienna. Some 700 years later some foolish cleric with too much power and time on  his hands, had it sawed up and the dozens of paintings of the Life of Jesus and Mary were scattered around the world. This painting of Jesus calling his first disciples now hangs in the National Gallery in Washington D.C.

We heard this Gospel account Sunday Mass a few weeks ago. Here's part of the beautiful and important text.

18 As he was walking along the Sea of Galilee he watched two brothers, Simon now known as Peter, and his brother Andrew, casting a net into the sea. They were fishermen. 19 He said to them, "Come after me and I will make you fishers of men." 20 They immediately abandoned their nets and became his followers. 21 He walked along farther and caught sight of two other brothers, James , Zebedee's son, and his brother John. They too were in their boat, getting their nets in order with their father, Zebedee. He called them and 22 immediately they abandoned boat and father to follow him. Matthew 4:18-22

Duccio opens up the seaside scene in simplicity. He doesn't even paint in a background of mountains, trees and sky. It's as if he has drawn a great golden curtain behind the figures so as not to distract us from the main event. And that main event is this: In Jesus Christ, heaven and earth meet, God is one with us utterly, walking with us and calling to us in love.

"What the Word of God does for the ear, the icon does for the eye." Duccio shows Jesus-God walking along the shore and reaching out to us.

We tend to think the first apostles were peasant types, maybe even simpletons. But recent biblical scholarship suggests otherwise, that while yes, they were fishermen, they were intelligent successful business men. They had their boats and nets. It sounds like a family business. Perhaps they worked in this area because they were taking advantage of tax breaks.

If this is the case, then it would indicate Jesus has come for everyone and not simply those who are desperate or whose lives are wrecked. In another place we'll see Jesus calling a different kind of person—Levi, the despised tax collector. Later still, we'll learn there were women disciples. In my opinion, women tend to be more spiritually awake than men, so maybe Jesus never had to call them, they were just there out of their own un-distracted awareness and desire to learn from Jesus.

Notice how Duccio has made sure we see Jesus at the shoreline. The shoreline is the margin or the edge of things. The disciples aren't fishing far out in deep water, but are close enough to shore for Jesus to have had a conversation with them. But at one time or another, we are all on the edge. This is where Jesus finds us—on the edge of another war, on the edge of disaster, on the edge of collapse. When we're emotionally stressed out, we might say, "I'm feeling kind of edgy." Lawless, corrupted people are over the edge. And when Jesus finds us in these edgy places, individually or collectively, he calls to us, "Come follow me." 

He can say, "Come follow me" to a nation which is losing its bearings. He can say it to a parish or the universal Church which is distracted from the essential things. Jesus still says, "Come follow me,"  — and I will show you a new horizon, a new way, new purpose, new meaning, a new solution. And you'll be fishers of men—bringing in people to a new awareness of God's inconceivably deep love.

I imagine when Jesus appeared on the seashore with his invitation, it came as a surprise to the brothers. Look at Andrew's face  in the Duccio painting—is he muttering to himself, "I'm working; what's going on with this guy on the beach?" 

Our lives are filled with invitations. Do I pay attention to them, or just mumble protests? Do I detect God's presence in the interruptions that matter most?

• The television commercial asking help for the starving children or the animals. That interruption.
• The interrupting thought that I really should go and visit her; she's alone." 
• The interrupting thought, "I need to pick up the phone right now and call him; I didn't see him at Mass today." 
• The honest realization: "I only watch the channel that supports the way I think already; I'll switch for a few days and hear something new." Ah, that interruption!
• The interrupting thought of a new idea about God.
• The interrupting thought of my having been forgiven.

My Lord, What A Morning

February is Black History Month. There are some people who resent that, "Why not Irish History or Italian History Month?" they might ask. Some Americans deserve an "F" in American History.

Here is Marian Anderson singing, My Lord, What A Morning, a 19th century African American Spiritual. The message of the hymn is: Each day, this day, is a beautiful gift from God, but in the end, all things are passing.

Marian Anderson was an acclaimed American singer whose performance at the Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday 1939, helped set the stage for the civil rights era. She was born February 27, 1897 in Philadelphia and died in Portland, Oregon, April 8, 1993. Her voice has been described as a "...rich vibrant contralto of intrinsic beauty." 

While Marian Anderson performed at Carnegie Hall in New York City in 1928, the 1939 invitation to sing at the Lincoln Memorial was extended by Eleanor Roosevelt when she learned the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) had blocked her singing at the Washington D.C. Constitution Hall. Racism is the nation's original sin. 

Marian Anderson sang at President John F. Kennedy's inauguration, and in 1991 she was given a Grammy Award for Lifetime Achievement. 

My hope is that after listening to this lovely hymn, you might listen again, and that you might find yourself singing it throughout the day. May our song bring some healing to our nation.