Intercessions ~ Fifth Sunday of Easter

Restored Icon ~ Salus Populi Romani
Mother of God Health and Protection of the Roman People

At the start of May/ we celebrate Mary/ who creates an atmosphere of receptivity and love around Jesus./ As disciples,/ we pray to learn all he wants to teach us about mercy,/ compassion and gratitude./ We pray to the Lord.

At the start of May,/ we pray for those who celebrate birthdays,/ anniversaries and other days of remembrance./ We ask for gifts of good health,/ safety,/ well-being and peace./ We pray to the Lord.

It is reported now,/ that in India,/ someone dies from Coronavirus every four minutes,/ mostly from lack of oxygen./ As a nation,/ may we take nothing for granted,/ helping other nations as we are able,/ but generously and selflessly./ We pray to the Lord.

Today is Orthodox Easter./ We pray for the day when the Church/ East and West celebrates the Lord's rising/ together every year./ May we be bold in healing the wounds of the past,/ setting out together in repentance,/ humility and love./ We pray to the Lord. 

We pray for the sick,/ for families desperate for safety and security,/ for those who are lonely,/ depressed or overwhelmed./ And for ourselves to be kept free of cynicism and the terrible polarization afflicting our nation these days./ For the heart-turning of the many who believe themselves to be superior to everyone else./ We pray to the Lord.

We ask for increased awareness and gratitude as the spring time deepens,/ but are also prayerfully aware that already there are places where there are threats of violent storms and fires./ We pray to the Lord.

"Look up..."

 

I was taking my morning walk the other day, having wandered into a neighborhood of magnificent stone homes built in the 1920's and 30's. Every house was someone's exercise of creative genius. And all throughout the streets were tremendous trees of enormous variety and height, 80, 90 and 100 feet tall. At one point I was struck by the rising sun seen through a great maple tree sprouting tender, light green leaves, and the instruction of Jesus came to mind:

"But when this begins to happen, look up and raise your heads, for your deliverance will be at hand." 

Lk 21:28 

It seems to me that "looking up" is a spiritual exercise on a number of different levels. When Jesus told us to look up, to raise our heads because deliverance will be at hand — I'd suggest he had more in mind than our looking around for his reappearance in the sky, when he will begin the great sorting out of humanity — doling out rewards and punishments.  

Why do we make so much of Jesus past and future but miss what Jesus means right now? Can we consider the day of deliverance as today? The nation and the church could do with deliverance from the negativity, suspicion and fear that's got hold of us. There is deliverance from our nursing old wounds and resentments. Deliverance from the waste of so much pondering of petty grievances. Deliverance from so much desiring. Jesus says it: "Stop worrying about what I am going to wear, what am I going to eat; it's what pagans do." (Matthew 6:25-34). Deliverance from so many day-to-day energy draining worries — money worries, relationship worries, health worries, fanciful worries about the future. I know a woman who is a fine care provider, but in a recent conversation she shared that she's lost her morning minutes of prayer time. We spoke of her need to aggressively reclaim it. That's a deliverance.

But I'm also thinking of the many people who were never allowed or able to look up — and sometimes were forced to look down in the name of religion. I was at a Mass once celebrated by a priest who ended the Mass with the final blessing saying, "Look up and pray the Lord's blessing." Some people don't like priests who make those kinds of changes. They sometimes write agitated Sunday night protest letters to bishops. I found it happy and enlivening — leaving Mass with head held up so we can see who and what God has put before us.

I lift up my head for the nuns whose imprisoning clothes prevented then from ever looking up, who were taught eyes down lest she be thought curious or capricious.

I lift up my head for the children who were taught modesty of the eyes as a method of control.

I lift up my head for the novices and postulants who had to look down when speaking with superiors.

I lift up my head for the Jews, Christians and Moslems who had (have) to look down before oppressors.

I lift up my head for the slaves who didn't dare.

I lift up my head for the children who are shamed by bullies (who could even be a parent or teacher.)

I lift up my head for the sexualized girls and women who for fear can only look down.

I lift up my head for those so riddled with guilt for past errors they remain bent over.

To lift up one's head is

   to feel God's breeze,

   to have a new thought,

   to come out of hiding,

   to make eye-contact.

 

To lift up one's head is

   to see the movement of clouds,

   geese in formation,

   the cross-topped church,

   saints in windows.

To lift up one's head is

   to see sunlight through spring leaves,

   to search out bird song,

   to identify Venus,

   the Super Pink Moon.

To lift up one's head is

    to interface "good morning,"

    to see what I can do,

    to realize a gift,

    to detect another's anguish.

I will save looking down to see the baby in the crib, my dog's water bowl empty, the windflower's sway, the table place I set for a guest, the robin on the lawn, the pothole to be avoided, the friend homebound in bed, the germinating seed, the hymn's next verse...

A Prayer of Heartache and Pleading

 

I look at this image of Jesus long and often to console myself these days. Titled simply, Christ Blessing, it was painted by the Flemish artist, Hans Memling (c1430/40). Hidden away in a private collection, it was discovered only recently and put up for auction in 2012. 

Jesus wears a dark earthen-colored robe; his left hand rests on a ledge, as if looking into our world, weary with violence and death. He blesses us with his right hand. His almond shaped eyes see and know. The background is golden, revealing his divinity. But notice this — the light from his face seems to be pushing back the swirling dark clouds. These storm clouds of course are an image of the state of the human mind and heart. Here is my prayer before Memling's painting of Christ Blessing.

O Jesus,

we are through half the month

and already there have been

forty-five mass shootings.

With each massacre,

the nation,

paralyzed with fear, 

gun sales skyrocket.

Lord, have mercy.

These gods of metal,

more vigorously defended than your gospel word,

the relic of your cross,

your crown of thorns,

the bones of your saints,

your mother's mantle.

Christ, have mercy.

The nation splintered

with suspicion of the others,

angry and defensive,

our rationalizing,

defenses up,

willful ignorance,

even stupidity,

resistant indifference to the dead.

Lord, have mercy.

Authorities elected,

panderers to the basest instincts

of fury and angst,

who cling to votes,

blinded by power,

smug,

arrogant,

who campaign status-quo promises,

while others make promises,

unkept.

Christ have mercy.

Authorities who refuse to act —

selfish,

desperate,

agenda-seized,

the outer appearance distorted,

reflective

of hearts too small.

Lord, have mercy.

Flags at half staff —

now daily,

the numbed

cheap grace of 

thoughts and prayers

"horrified"

"shocked" — really?

Christ have mercy.

Covid pandemic,

but gun epidemic,

classrooms,

parks

streets,

supermarkets,

malls,

theatres,

restaurants, 

spas,

churches,

synagogues,

mosques,

workers on their dinner break.

The nation feels lost.

Lord have mercy.

Fretting families waiting for the saddest news,

grieving

the en-wombed child,

the dead toddler,

parent,

spouse,

partner,

friend, 

colleague,

neighbor,

the quiet community 

joy and trust stolen,

devolved into funerial depression.

Christ have mercy.

The nation's light dimmed —

the great, so what 

or ignorant of the shame 

covering us.

I fear we have forsaken you, O Jesus.

Lord, have mercy.

Blessing Christ,

Emmaus Christ,

restore confidence in us,

renew the stabilizing sense of belonging to each other,

revering each other.

Place new hope in us,

push back the squall clouds of our illness,

turn sorrowing hearts into strong hearts.

Christ in our darkness,

Christ searching for us,

Christ walking among us, 

Christ journeying with us,

Christ knowing us in the

narrow, 

tight, 

afeard place —

the mournful,

abandoned, 

heartbroken place.

Amen.

Fr. Stephen Morris

 

Intercessions ~ Fourth Sunday of Easter

 The Walk to Emmaus ~ Fritz von Uhde ~ 1891

Today,/ Eastern Christians celebrate Palm Sunday/ and the start of Holy Week./ May we imagine a time when  the calendar gaps are closed/ and Christians everywhere/ keep the feast of the Lord's rising together in love./ We pray to the Lord. 

The problem with race in our country is hundreds of years old./ We ask for a national awakening./ May all who are in positions of public trust/ learn how to use their power and authority to protect,/ help,/ heal and serve others./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for our families and our friends,/ mindful of those who are struggling with weakness,/ discouragement,/pain,/ financial or relational problems./ We pray to the Lord.

On the road to Emmaus Jesus walked with the dejected disciples/ and revealed his presence among them./ Inspire us to new thoughts of friendship,/ that no one should suffer loneliness or hopeless alienation./ May our sense of connection and belonging extend even to the pre-born child in its vulnerability./ We pray to the Lord.

In the recent trial surrounding the death of George Floyd,/ great attention was paid to the stress put upon his physical heart./ May we be attentive to our own emotional heart,/ from which Jesus says our thoughts emerge./ May we learn something new of love each day this week./ We pray to the Lord. 

Our planet is in climate chaos./ We pray for those parts of the world which have become uninhabitable;/ where there is draught,/ melting,/ vast fires,/ destructive storms,/ killing frosts,/ plant and animal extinctions./ May human indifference and greed,/ be replaced by a deep, protective love for the living planet God has entrusted to our care./ We pray to the Lord.

Grecian Windflower ~ "Don't be afraid, tiny flock."

This low-to-the-ground April flower is Anemone Blanda.  It's also known as Grecian Windflower. Anemos is Greek for wind. It is native to south eastern Europe to the Middle East. Resembling a daisy with finely cut leaves, rather like flat-leaved Italian parsley, the attached adjective, blanda, means charming, pleasing, mild. I must remember to place a labeled marker in the ground as the flowers last only a short time before going dormant until next spring. I enjoy remembering there are underground roots and rhizomes resting and renewing themselves. The plant's short appearance reminds me of Jesus' teaching:

Think of the wild flowers, and how they neither work nor weave. Yet I tell you that Solomon in all his glory was never arrayed like one of these. If God so clothes the grass, which flowers in the field today and is burned in the stove tomorrow, is he not much more likely to clothe you, you little-faiths? You must not set your heart on what you eat or drink, nor must you live in a state of anxiety. The whole heathen world is busy about getting food and drink, and your father knows well enough that you need such things. No, set your heart on his kingdom and your food and drink will come as a matter of course. Don't be afraid, you tiny flock." Luke 12: 28-32 (J.B. Phillips Edition)

There was a battering rain last night and I'm just back from visiting to see how the patch of Anemone Blanda faired. The flowers had closed up to self-protect, and I expect as soon as there's some light in the sky, they'll open again. They'll have weathered the storm.

It's said there are four basic feelings: happy, sad, angry and afraid. Notice three of the four are negative. I don't know how, "Don't live in a state of anxiety," and "Don't be afraid" is understood by the world's poorest people — the ones who live on the world's garbage mountains, but they often appear to be happier than those of us who live in the world of the thingdom come.

There are more guns in this country than people. The shooting massacres are so frequent now most are un-reported or appear in the news cycle only briefly before the next one occurs. Why so many guns? It's not about hunting and it's not really about "protecting our rights." What's underneath the love affair with guns? I'd suggest the issue is a spiritual one. Jesus talking about the field flowers is a segue to the get at the real issue: "Don't live in a state of anxiety...don't be afraid you tiny flock." 

We live in a scary world and must take care. Jesus understood this, living in a world of  imperial power and surrounded by enemies who wanted him dead.

But at Calvary and Easter Jesus looked evil, death and everything scary in the eye, going down into the deepest place of human depravity (hell) and came back. As disciple-wannabes then, ours is a religion which is ready to go down into our deepest fears. We have this major gun problem (even the nation's children are killed) because we're afraid. The spiritual question is then: Afraid of what? Afraid of whom? Asking those kinds of questions can be terrifying, requiring a depth of self-awareness. We might even become angry with the persons who pose the question.

What are you afraid of is a national question. It is a Church question?  Of course fear is the real spiritual issue, otherwise, "Do not be afraid" would not appear in the bible 365 times. Right out of the gate, the first thing the angel says to Mary in the Annunciation is, "Do not be afraid." And the first thing the night angels say to the Christmas shepherds is, "Fear not!" And the first thing the angels say to the myrrh-bearing women is, "Do not be afraid." And the first thing Jesus says to the apostles in the Easter appearances is, "Do not be afraid." And maybe that's because when heaven breaks in on us we're afraid of what's going to be asked of us — that we fear being asked to do it differently or to go another way, or to surrender something (especially some security which prevents us from throwing ourselves into God's embrace.)

Intercessions ~ Third Sunday of Easter

 

Yellow Magnolia

May we join Pope Francis/ who on Easter Sunday prayed,/ "May the Lord who is our peace,/ help us to overcome the mindset of war/ — inspire world leaders to curb the race for new weaponry./ We pray to the Lord.

While indeed, all lives matter,/ may we be humble,/ honest and generous in acknowledging and lamenting that many people in the world don't feel their lives matter./ For those who are trapped in poverty,/ who are victimized by injustices,/ global and national imbalances./ We pray to the Lord.

There is a great and painful loneliness in the world today./ May the world's religions be a source of inclusion and encouragement./ As the Gospel account tells of Jesus accompanying the disciples Easter evening/ may no person feel they are walking alone./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for a nation where we can now count on hearing news of yet another shooting massacre/ and physical harm done to persons who are perceived as "other."/ May God remove from the national heart the illness,/ violence and hatred that belies our professed trust in God./ We pray to the Lord.

Give gifts of patience,/ creativity and encouragement/ to parents who are particularly stressed during this Covid sickness./ We pray again for the many who offer themselves in the service of the sick./ We pray to the Lord.

During the Easter Springtime/ may Christ melt was is frozen and warm what is chill within us./ We pray to the Lord.

Why Intercede

 

The Deeis row of an iconostasis in an Eastern Christians Church is the largest and most significant part of the screen. We see Christ in Majesty, flanked by the Mother of God and St. John the Baptist interceding (supplicating) before and with Christ on behalf of humankind. Often the Deeis row will include the archangels Gabriel and Michael and other saints as well.

Every Thursday intercessions appear on this blog in anticipation of Sunday Mass. This year I suspended them for the weeks of Lent in order to leave the Polenov reflections undisturbed, but now in the Eastertime I've resumed them. They seem to help busy people remember to pray for the world. Some folks tell me they pray them in the pew before Mass begins. Others tell me they integrate them into their night prayer. Someone prints a hardcopy and keeps it by a prayer corner. 

But does interceding for the world even matter? Does it do any good?  World-interceding monks have inhabited Mount Athos in the Greek archipelago since about the year 800 AD.  Of course, in an often angry world they have enemies, people who resent them for whatever reasons. There have even been government or business proposals to shut down the 21 monasteries and drive the nearly 2000 monks away, turning the monastic mountain and peninsula into a money producing land of casinos and high end hotels. The sometimes wild monks reply, "If you destroy this place, the world will end."

In some way, I believe that. Praying for the world — our prayer, as well as the ceaseless prayer of  monastics around the world, is needed. Whatever prayer I offer on behalf of others, I trust God will use it as God sees fit. I believe the world is better off for our prayer because (assuming the prayer comes from an interior place of felt need) that prayer signals there is more compassion and mercy in the world than if we hadn't prayed. 

I expect God is pleased to see compassion expressed for an anguished, struggling world. I want that to increase in me. "The thing you pay attention to, increases," AA says. You're invited to join the prayer here each week.

Jesus the Easter Gardener

This marvelous, contemplative scene was created by the Dutch painter, Janpeter Muilwijk (1960-). The word contemplative might mean to look, to listen, then again, and then to attend even more, until there is some inner resonance. This painting (2014) is titled simply, The Gardener, depicting the Easter morning gospel account:

"She (Mary Magdalen) said to them (the two angels), "They have taken my Master away, and I do not know where they have put him." As she said this she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was he. Jesus said to her, "Why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?" She, supposing that he was the gardener, said to him, "If it was you, sir, that carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him in Hebrew "Rabbouni!" which means Master." John 20:13-16

Someone has suggested that when Jesus rose from the dead he needed clothes, and so he dressed himself in the clothes left behind by the gardener. That would be a dead-end detail that in no way helps us spiritually. The Gospel accounts never give us useless fillers or pointless information.

What then? The bible begins with the dual stories of God who is a creator. In the second creation story (Genesis 2:4ff) we are told:

"God molded man out of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life so that man became a living being. Then the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, to the east and put there the man whom he had molded."

The human story begins with our being placed in a garden. Indeed, gardening is Adam's work. Now, in Christ we meet the New Adam — the new man (the new human person) and so the best place for that meeting to take place is, the garden.

Janpeter depicts the encounter in great loveliness. We see the gardener's shovel behind Jesus. The Tree of Life is in the center of the picture. It is Spring — the season of change and new beginnings. A chilly early morning, we see the breath of Jesus as he speaks Magdalen's name. The wounds of Jesus are each touched by petals fallen from the full-blooming tree. The birds have returned with a sung announcement of resurrection's new life. Is that a Spotted Song Thrush singing in the tree?  The ground sprouts trumpet-like daffodils. 

Jesus is dismantling the fence that had separated humankind from the Tree of Life — the fence of our appalling attachment to violence, death and decay: the love affair we have with war and every kind of greed, savagery and killing. To the right we see the brush fire Jesus has made of that separating fence. Magdalen is unsure of who this is and in what new form. She touches Jesus delicately with her little finger. In the bottom left there is a small bush that at first glance looks dead. But looking more closely, we detect signs of life — some buds and a single flower. Hope Springs Eternal. In Jesus risen, God is no loser.

Spiritually, Magdalen was correct, Jesus is the gardener — the new Adam. He is the one who shows us how we should have gone about living with God and God's creation. But the soil the Risen Christ wants to break into and till, is the soil of our hearts (our inner selves). As the good gardener, he is full of spring time hope for his plot. The gardener wants to plant seeds. The gardener wants the garden to be fruitful and flowering. The gardener wants the garden to be beautiful. What might Christ the gardener want to sow or plant in me? Is there a toxic (poisonous) "weed" Christ the gardener would want to yank out of me (not simply some bad habit I've picked up) but an attitude perhaps that has invaded me or that "stinks" or is wrecking havoc unbeknownst to me. 

Gardeners are dreamers. What could Christ the Gardener dream for me? We might have a conversation with this Easter morning Jesus whose breath carries each of our names. What might I have to say to him? What might I ask of Jesus the Gardener? Don't ask him to keep everyone healthy — we can save that for another time. This is Christ the Gardener who wants everything a gardener hopes for, plants for and intends to be true for each and all of us.  His shovel is there at the ready. He wants to begin. He wants to break new ground in me; restore old ground. Gardeners want things to grow: grow me up Jesus! Can I name any of that for myself?

Intercessions ~ Sunday After Easter

Duccio Di Buoninsegna ~ The Risen Christ Appears to the Apostles

In the Gospel accounts of the Risen Christ,/ Jesus breathes on the apostles / an echo of God's breathing life into Adam./ Yet every year around the world/ seven million people die prematurely due to air pollution./ May we learn to care for the treasure,/ which is God's life sustaining gift of air./ We pray to the Lord.

Nearly 40,000 children have lost a parent to coronavirus in the United States./ We pray for them/ and for children everywhere who live insecure and sad lives./ We pray to the Lord.

May we understand the message of spring personally,/ "See, we can grow and change."/ May hope and trust be resurrected in the nation/ and in the Church./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for those places where there is civil war,/ power-grabbing,/ ecological disaster,/ poverty and sickness./ For those who know only suffering./ We pray to the Lord.

The coronavirus still claims the lives of many./ We continue to pray for health care workers/ and the consolation of mourners./ For those who will not help in even the simplest ways./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for the President of the United States/ and all who have been elected to government office./ Grant that they would be hard-working and true servants,/ free of pandering to those who want to legitimatize divisions and destruction./ We pray to the Lord.

Tuesday in the Easter Octave ~ the Harrowing of Hell

 

The Eastern Christian image for Easter is not of Jesus stepping out of the tomb or floating above it, but this icon titled: The Harrowing of Hell. Synonyms for harrowing might be words like — terrifying, heart-rending, alarming, traumatic, chilling, distressing, excruciating. 

"He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell. These words start off the millions of rosaries that are prayed every day around the world. We do think about what we say? 

If "hell" is a kind of semi-geographical place, then what? But I would suggest "hell" has much more to do with the deepest decent of humankind's mind.  It is the pit below we see in the icon — the dark, hideousness of our depraved offenses before God. It's the devilish insanity, the monstrous mind that wants us chained and imprisoned. Jesus has found us there and invaded it. See the locks and keys, the hardware that keeps humanity sealed in.                

Jesus, champion-like, rushes to our rescue, breaking down the now crisscrossed gates behind which humanity sits, trapped, side-tracked and lost. This icon is a detail of a much larger frescoed monastery wall. We don't see the many other figures who Christ has already pulled out of the hell-hole, the death hole. See Eve already rescued on the right, and last of all old Adam. In other words — the long human story.

The harrowing of hell is Christ, invading that human state of mind, heart and soul that from early on has quarantined itself off from light and life.

There have been more than 107 mass shootings in our nation already this year —a marked increase over last year. By definition, a mass shooting leaves four or more persons dead at a time. No one is spared — even little children are dead. No place is spared — parks, synagogues, churches, mosques. We may take notice for a news cycle, sending up "thoughts and prayers." I think that's blasphemous (a God insult while we do nothing about why it happens). The murderous state of hell-mind is enabled by gun lust, gun fetish, gun worship — an idolatry no less than that of the wild dance around that other stupid god of metal in the Sinai desert. The new "wild dance" is the twists and turns we perform to defend guns of the most outrageous kind — the 2nd amendment more sacred than a bible verse. Lots of Christians do the dance.

And there are many other hellish states of mind — the colonial explorer-world which was, in truth, a plunder-r world, the drug underworld, the organized crime underworld, the sex trafficking underworld, the underworld that rapes the planet for greed, the secreted sex abuse underworld of institutions (including the Church,) the genocide underworld, the underworld of bold-faced lies, the global militarization underworld that enriches some nations, while leaving others shockingly poor. The dark pit in the icon is the humanity-mind that lets children starve to death, that weeds out to extinction the weaker ones. 

The Bubble-World I sometimes reference here is the, "I don't want to know about it," world. Anyway, we believe that Christ has stepped down into that world and beat it back. Then why is it still so sadly, even depressingly operative? Have we failed Christ who invites us to learn from him? Do we just admire Christ in a monstrance or tabernacle, but perhaps, even unknown to ourselves, think him to be  naïve, having nothing to do with how we live on this planet? It is said, "It is easier to move a mountain than to change a human heart." So, this Eastertime I will resist the Bubble-World and do everything I can to get Christ (his new mind) into my life — there is everything to take him away. 

Is there some wintry, ice encased, inner thought-place, some inside piece of me, that Christ wants to harrow? Which is by no means the same as flashing a Jesus Saves banner at the next anti-anything riot, or standing up a ten foot cross in front of a governor's mansion or court house. It's alarmingly personal.

Easter Sunday ~ Blessings Standing at the Grave of Vasily Polenov

Christ is Risen! Truly he is Risen! 

We have spent these Lenten weeks together, looking at forty-three images created by Vasily Polenov and a couple of paintings by his friends. We have seen many Polenov landscapes but also a number of images from his Life of Christ Cycle. Thank you for coming along. Thank you for perhaps inviting others to enter here. I'm pleased for the connection and give thanks for the friends who introduced me to Polenov's work.  St. Paul writes: 

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, — think about such things."  Philippians 4:8

I send good wishes to you at Easter and a blessing for health and safety these Covid days. I send good wishes for your peace and encouragement  in a world that is troubled, threatened and often sad. Here is my blessing prayer for you, as I imagine myself standing at Vasily's grave on Easter Morning.

May this Easter Morning, lift you up in joy.

May the fence around Vasily's grave, help you to feel secure.

May the clustered white iris, bring blessings for your family and friends.

May the gently curved conifer, teach you to lean on the everlasting arm.

May the lichen-d stone at the foot of the cross, teach you to dash your thoughts 

    upon Christ the Rock.

May the willow tree beyond, console your broken heart.

May the three-barred cross, reassure you that you are loved.

May the garden's abundance, remind you that each breath is a plant's gift.

May the creatures hidden in the green — the birds, the insects, the animals — teach 

    you receptivity.

May the Oka, flowing below the high bank, help you to learn acceptance.

May the church's Easter bells, summon you to something new of Christ.

May the winter-survived garden, keep you in safety and health.

May the leafed out trees and the springing up of grasses, green you in 

    Christ's goodness.

May the lavender flowers, reduce your tensions and bring spiritual healing.

May the distant church of the Holy Trinity, invite you into God's inner community 

    of divine persons.

May the hazy, spring-morning sky, teach you of Christ, who has walked through 

    human darkness — trampling down death by death.

Bouquet of Flowers ~ Vasily Polenov ~1880

It is Holy Saturday, a day of quiet interiority. I have saved this Polenov painting for just this reason — it is still and modest, inviting contemplation. Many artists paint flowers. Some are grand displays in fabulous containers, but Vasily Polenov's bouquet is different. 

You might have different names for some of these flowers, but I see a little branch of sweetpea; a pansy; a red geranium; a white, double hollyhock in flower and with buds, a red poppy; a piece of Dusty Miller leaf; something red from the rudbeckia family. The white, trumpet flower is perhaps a highly-scented Angels' Trumpet aka Datura.

 

Vasily has evidently gone out into the garden. He has noticed each flower individually, paid attention to each, cut and gathered them, arranging them simply in a no frills cruet we might see at Mass holding water and wine, or on the dinner table holding oil and vinegar

This is a bitter time in our country. There are old festering wounds and poisons that have taken over. We need to create a new culture, not about eating and owning so much, not about sexiness, power and having the highest profile, fighting about everything — including religion. Christianity was historically rejected by Native Americans because it was perceived to be a religion of argument. 

But is a new culture of gratitude possible? Our thanks, not reserved for a November food fest and segue into the Christmas shopping extravaganza, but a moment to moment, flower-like gathering of gratitude. Each moment noticed and carefully considered. As a boy I was taught that Catholicism was about discipline, paying attention because the possibility of sin was around every corner. Then there was my prayer discipline which could make for neuroses, "If I miss a day of my novena, do I have to start all over again?" The discipline of practicing virtues, of offering things up, the discipline of examining my conscience —You did what, how many times? But I think the real discipline to be embraced and cultivated is the discipline of gratitude which I would say makes for a soul that is lightsome (merry and carefree).

Orthodox Jews can undertake a prayer practice referred to as One Hundred Blessings. I don't know how the counting is done — that's not the important part — but the heightened awareness which is suggested at Mass:  Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, through your goodness there is this bread, this wine...." Then name it for yourself. The gentle goal is to count one hundred blessings each day.

Of course, some folks with demanding occupations may find it difficult or even impossible to do this. But St. Therese of Lisieux believed that a sigh was a prayer. And St. Kateri Tekakwitha is said to have prayed more with her eyes than her lips.  Each moment opening to the next with the potential for surprise, however simple. One Orthodox priest in a concentration camp during the Second World War saw the encircling fence lights as images of the lamps before the icons in his parish church. A Roman Catholic priest saw the rising sun each day as the host he raised at Mass in the absence of bread and wine. The simile or metaphor isn't necessary — but the grateful awareness. 

Holy Mandylion ~ By Ilya Repin

 

Back in February (22) we spent a little while considering Vasily Polenov's immensely successful first venture into architecture — his design for the Church of the Savior of the Holy Mandylion at the Abramtsevo Artists Colony. Vasily agreed to take on the project provided he was afforded complete independence. He didn't want the land owner, a bishop or architect telling him how to carry out the work. One of the most important aspects of that independence was Vasily's inclusion of collaborative friends sharing their own skills. Ilya Repin (1844-1930) was one of those collaborators.

Repin, like many late 19th century artists, was a man of new ideas and inner directions. While he had strayed far from the Russian Orthodox Church, that doesn't mean he hated the Church, but was simply prepared to go his own way, as artists often do. Still, (a lesson in non-judging) he worked long and hard on a painting titled, The Temptation of Christ in the Desert, claiming he was never satisfied with it. Whether he was speaking tongue in cheek, Leon Tolstoy, who had been excommunicated by the Church, called Repin "a heathen." 

But here we see the icon Repin painted for Vasily Polenov's church at Abramtsevo. A heathen!? I don't think so. The ancient apocryphal story says that King Abgar of Edessa lay sick and near death when he sent an emissary to fetch Jesus to cure him. Instead of going to Abgar, Jesus pressed a cloth to his face and sent it back to the king who was blessed and healed by the image that had been imprinted. Ilya has imagined that Holy Face here. A heathen doesn't paint the face of Jesus so tenderly. This icon is up front on the iconostasis of Vasily's church which has the title, Church of the Icon Not Made by Human Hands. 

Let's not miss the masterfully carved frame as well. Notice how the columns seem to be woven. The icon appears to be painted on a cloth that is stained and worn. The three initials around the head of Jesus signify, "He who is." You'll remember the conversation Moses had before the Burning Bush on Mount Sinai. May I suggest: contemplation is simply resting in the icon's presence.

Here is my prayer before the Holy Mandylion (the icon not made by human hands). Perhaps you will compose your own. 

 Before your face, O Jesus —

in my fatigue, my frailty,

my inner frozen place,

my fretting, regrets,

 and my delights,

in the holding of my heart-concerns,

distractions and pre-occupations —

your face.

And in the closing of my eyes

for my night-time rest,

and in my final farewell here —

your face.

He Is Guilty of Death ~ Vasily Polenov ~ 1906

 

This is a very dramatic painting containing a number of events during Jesus' Passion Account. Of course, this is Holy Thursday night. We can see it is night time thought the two windows. We are in the home of Caiaphas, the high priest who is presiding over the trial of Jesus. There's a circle of men seated around this in-charge fellow who is theatrically tearing his clothes. Two men with outstretched arms set the tornadic energy in a counter-clockwise motion. The fellow in the up top left corner is ramping up the emotion. The verdict of this "secretly, in the dead of night" tribunal is, "Jesus must die."  Bad things happen in secret night-time meetings.

Oil lamps hang from the rafters and the ceiling. There are Hebrew letters on the wall, like the "In God We Trust" signs over an American courtroom. But Jesus is left out, his hands tied behind his back, up against a wall, with a balustrade to keep him in his place. It's a sad picture. It might be titled, "The Loneliness of God." 

Is God lonely? We can muse on that. The daughter of the evangelist Billy Graham was asked, "Why does God allow bad things to happen.? She said, "Well, for so long we've told God to go away. And God, being the gentleman he is, has perhaps complied." I get it.

Again, these paintings may be depicting historical events, but they are all the more reflective of states of mind and heart. Is is right to say, that at some time or other all of us have been of the mind — like the accusing men in the night circle, our inner thoughts going around and around, swirling in an unstoppable tornado of hyped resentment. The national mind these days has been swept up with this kind of destructive energy. 

But I think too, Polenov's isolated Jesus, is an image of God joining us in our loneliness. God understands human loneliness because he has stood with us in it. It's reported now that 3 in 5 Americans feel lonely — left out, poorly understood, lacking companionship. This sense pre-dates Covid, but the pandemic is intensifying the problem. Loneliness results in anxiety and depression. Wow, 73% of those who are heavy social media users consider themselves lonely. And the Generation Z young people, ages 18-22, rate highest on the loneliness scale. They say they lack meaningful conversations and a sense of sharing life with others. The American workplace is said to be a particularly lonely place. 

No one escapes. A rectory can be a terribly lonely place — doors closed, having to listen to a pastor's diner time grievance monologues, broken men who are unhappy with themselves and their work— lonely.

Being Jewish can be lonely in this self-proclaimed Christian country. A gay teen can feel lonely even in his/her own family. Asian Americans are being increasingly harassed even harmed these days. Being a person of color can be lonely in this country. Twenty eight percent of older adults live alone now. Being A newcomer in a school or workplace can be lonely. Bullying is on the increase. Someone told me once about the school where she worked, "If you're different in this school; you're in trouble." 

The nation has a serious problem. Our loneliness is being called an epidemic. Vasily Polenov's Jesus standing marginalized, opposite this whirlwind of lonely condemnation, invites us to start seeing clearly.