Rapidly spreading

 ‘As the Father has sent me, so I send you’ (John 20:21)

John 20:19-23 (Year A: Pentecost Sunday 4^th June 2017)

One day there was a commotion in Jerusalem. According to the account in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:1-13), the crowds who were alerted to a disorderly scene were perplexed and shocked. This, many of them might have concluded, would be a case of something equivalent to a modern day rave party where persons of unstable comportment emerge into broad daylight clearly heavily dosed on something. But, this tumult was not the result of some ‘new wine’ or modern-day equivalent. Something extraordinary had entered into the mind, hearts and wills of the disciples gathered together in one place and holding in prayer and trust to the hope that had been pledged to them a short while previously.

This was delivery time. And delivery it would be in plenty. The only way it could be described by those experiencing this or by those observing it nearby, is in terms of fire, energy, joy, outpouring and life. Tongues were opened, minds and hearts set free and a torrent of infectious love overflowed. Only those touched, healed and brought back to life by this experience could begin to understand what Pentecost is about. It is not some obscure religious feast day that happens to fall 50 days after Easter and in which some imaginative language about an image of a white bird is used. The feast of the Holy Spirit is the birthday of church – not some stuffy, static and set-in-stone institution that puzzles, amuses and annoys post-modern culture. Rather, it is the birthday of a powerful movement of compassion flowing out from the empty Cross of the Risen Christ just as lava flows rapidly down a volcano mountain.

We may note that the promise and delivery of the Holy Spirit in this short Gospel passage is set against a scene of great fear and closure. Doors to minds and hearts were locked out of fear and ignorance.  However, standing among the small band of disciples was the Risen Lord who gives peace and the sight of whom gave enormous joy to the disciples.

In this passage three ideas appear in quick succession: Fear, Peace, Sending-out.

Fear is present all throughout the time from Easter to Pentecost as the disciples huddle together – unsure, fearful of forces outside or fearful of what is to come.  Immediately and everywhere peace is the first and final gift of the risen Lord who stands in our midst among us. Sending out is the pressing task entrusted to the disciples. And to us today….

Battered, bruised, unsure, anxious – we are called out of those places of comfort and refuge.  Being sent out full of the Holy Spirit is not a facile evangelism characterised by emotionalism, preachiness and self-righteousness. It is about a quiet, strong, determined heart to bear witness to a treasure that is within each of us and is calling us out.

Twice Jesus declares ‘peace be with you’ before ‘breathing’ on his friends the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins. So often we strive for the higher gifts of wisdom, courage and healing. Yet, to receive graciously that peace which surpasses all is merely the necessary first step.  It is more than just a question of sitting in the twilight, eyes closed and meditating on one’s breath or a word or a blank screen. It is about being at peace with others before entering into that deep inner peace where healing and forgiveness break out. But, which comes first? To be at peace we must savour something of the Holy Spirit who is already dwelling within us? It’s a two-way flow – from openness to the Spirit and others to inner peace and back again. The key dynamo is trust or faith.

Let light shine out of darkness

 ‘And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.’ (John 17:3)

John 17:1-11 (Year A: Seventh Sunday of Easter 28^th May 2017)

Three things stand out in this time between Ascension and Pentecost:

• Unity
• Prayer
• Mission

What were the disciples up to between Ascension and Pentecost? Some of them were probably still afraid or confused.  Whatever way they felt, they knew that they had to wait. More than that, they knew that they had to be strong, together – like the city of Manchester this week.  ‘That they may be one as we are one’ (Jn 17:11).  In the darker moments in the history of a community, being together in a deeply prayer-ful way is important.  This is no time for set formulae or rehashed platitudes. It is a time to rest in prayerful waiting – with others. There we will find our strength for the mission that surely awaits us. We cannot presume what mission awaits us as a community or me as an individual member of the Body. In the running narrative of John chapters 14 through to 17, we know that Jesus the Prince of Peace, Saviour and Son of the Living God has a plan for each one of us. It is a plan for our well-being, happiness and peace and not for endless despair, suffering and torment. For the prophet Jeremiah declares (29:11)

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

When we have been touched by the Holy Spirit we will catch a faint intuition of God’s glory revealed in the life of our blessed, and sometimes broken, communities. 

Blessed, blest and broken like Aleppo or Manchester today (or Belfast a generation ago). In the midst of evil and torment, the glory of a compassionate God is not extinguished.

An inexpressible urge to give Glory will arise in our hearts.  And, a need to glorify is already deeply embedded in each of us.  From primitive beginnings human beings created images and glorified a higher being or reality. In more recent times some extraordinary examples of the human need for glorifying have presented at rallies and other manifestations. From Nuremberg to Red Square, a figurehead or an ideology has been glorified. Nature has always abhorred a vacuum and always will.

The prayer ‘Glory be to the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit …’ is said by Christians over and over again. What does it mean to glorify in this way? Does a god or Our God feel a need to be glorified?  The dense discourses in the Gospel of John – especially from the 14^th chapter to the 17^th – are packed with references to Glory, the Spirit, the Father-Son relationship as well as all the other Johannine themes of reciprocal love, unity, faith, light, joy and peace. But, glory is something that cuts across human reality. What we hear in the opening of the 17^th chapter is a powerful affirmation of the unique privilege of being human. A glory ascribed to God, alone, is realised in us. Writing in the second century St Irenaeus said

‘The glory of God is a living human person; and the life of a human person consists in beholding God’. Some translate this simply as ‘The glory of God is humanity full alive’.

Whow! The glory of God is ordinary human beings like you and me fully alive. Not just alive, but fully alive. Better than any prayer. It is prayer to be so. Let light shine out of darkness.  As Paul wrote (2 Cor 4:6):

For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

We will not be cowered. Some among us will sing and dance again at another time. To God be the glory in Manchester, Aleppo, Dublin and everywhere else.

When words fail

 ‘And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age’ (Matt 28:20)

Matthew 28:16-20 (Year A: Ascension Thursday 25^th May 2017)

The unspeakable sadness and outrage of what happened in Manchester shook me. But why, it might be asked, should it be so? After all, children are slaughtered daily in Syria and many other places of the world in the name of some cause, ideology or interest.  Like many other parts of the UK, Manchester is no stranger to terror in recent decades. State terror along with unofficial terror are two sides of the same coin.  They destroy the image of God in countless children, women and men.

I guess that what happened at a pop concert attended by thousands of teenagers was too close to home for me. Moreover, seeing those clips of parents frantically waiting and running at the entrance of the stadium reminded me of those times I waited for my own children at concerts in Dublin.

Manchester is real, very real.

And, I didn’t feel like writing a blog this week.  Then, I was struck by a phrase from the Gospel of Saint Matthew in this Thursday’s Gospel:

And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age

Amen.

God must descend into our hell of pain, suffering and incomprehension before he ascends – and us along with him. Might we live in hope and in love trusting in the power of the one who was crucified and rose again?

Might we stay firm in prayerful partnership with others as we await the coming of the holy breath of God? Might we be ready to begin again and to never, never allow evil rule our worlds or our minds or our bodies?

Nothing can bring back the lives and innocence of those slaughtered, maimed or traumatised. However, love in this small patch of life or existence joined to others can make a difference.

We are not alone – with the help of the Holy Spirit

 ‘You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you’ (John 14:17)

John 14:15-21 (Year A: Sixth Sunday of Easter 21^st May 2017)

We are drawing ever closer to that most wonderful of celebrations – Pentecost Sunday when once again, today, in our broken and wounded world the Holy Spirit comes among us in a special way just as She does day by day. Remembering the first major giving of the Holy Spirit to the disciples/apostles shortly after the death and resurrection of Jesus (three events inextricably joined together) we are open to a new outpouring of those special gifts of peace, joy and freedom. These are true marks of God’s Holy Spirit. That is, a breathing out of God from within us (the Hebrew word for spirit or breath is ruah which is feminine – in Irish Gaelic the word for breath is anáil which is also feminine).

Verse 14:18 reads:  ‘I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.’ Widows and orphans occupy a privileged position in many passages of scripture. God’s heart is drawn to those who, for one reason or another, are left without support or family company. The writer of the letter of St James writes: ‘Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress.’

In verse 17 Jesus speaks of a friend who will live within us and with us. This is more than just a passing feeling, a pious thought or a wishful outcome. It is the real and living presence of a power that springs from a compassionate heart that is of God. How can I be open to this precious presence? The preceding lines of this passage provide a clue:

‘If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you for ever – the Spirit of truth’ (verse 16).

Keeping commandments is more than just complying with a list of don’ts. It means an active, continuing and authentic practice of compassion – revealed in practical actions.

If we seek light, insight and companionship then this is where it starts: compassion exercised in practical daily actions. Dorothy Day, a founder of the Catholic Workers Movement once wrote:

True love is delicate and kind, full of gentle perception and understanding, full of beauty and grace, full of joy unutterable.  There should be some flavour of this in all our love for others. We are all one. We are one flesh in the Mystical Body as man and woman are said to be one flesh in marriage. With such a love one would see all things new; we would begin to see people as they really are, as God sees them.

What level of evidence is sufficient?

‘Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves‘ (John 14:11)

The lie detector

 John 14:1-12 (Year A: Fifth Sunday of Easter 14^th May 2017)

A question: How do we know that God exists?  And does it matter?

That makes two questions, in a way: the how and the so what.

This Sunday’s gospel holds a key to answering these two questions.

In verse 11 in chapter 14 of the Gospel of St John Jesus is reported as saying:

Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves

We like some degree of assurance, if not outright certainty, that what we believe to be ‘true’ is indeed ‘true’. Moreover, we like some degree of assurance if not outright certainty that what we do is ‘right’. 

Being ‘true’ and being ‘right’ are important regardless of what we say we believe or do. Among Christians and other believers in God, there can be an understandable frame of mind (usually kept quiet) that ‘non-believers’ and ‘non-practicing’ persons are more susceptible to being less ‘true’ or less ‘right’ than ….. well …. us/me (delete as appropriate). This sort of frame of mind is a deadly trap for ‘religious’ persons because we, all, like to think that we have the ‘truth’ (nothing like a devout and convinced atheist to preach his/her ‘truth’, religiously).  Presumption, arrogance and complacency are the hallmarks of bad religion and Jesus was scathing about bad religion.

If we are Christians in the full sense, we say that we believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  We say that the right way to live is by treating others as we would like others to treat us (we would not like to be murdered, lied to, robbed or cheated on …. you get the picture). It helps or it should help to locate a system of values, beliefs and mores in the Jesus story. The Jesus story is about God sending His (strictly speaking God is neither male or female but it is customary to address God as ‘He’ or ‘Father’) Son to save us from our sins and to show us the way to Life in this world and in the next. The key to salvation is faith or trust in the God who shows us infinite love and compassion and is waiting every moment of our remaining life to welcome us on the basis of a free decision and choice on our part but always as part of a plan of Grace or Graciousness. But, to be true and to be effective this faith – alone – which saves us works through free actions and free works of compassion on our part. It is like God’s compassion flowing out from within and through us to others (and not forgetting ourselves either!).

But, how do we know that any of this is ‘really’ ‘true’ and really according to the way we should live?  The use of ‘inverted commas’ in this blog, so far, is not accidental. Every word we think or use is conditioned and shaped by meanings that can be difficult to pin down.  We might admit to ourselves when the children are gone to bed that, whereas there is no Santa Clause ‘there’, there is a truth in the story of free kindness and the notion that what ‘goes around comes around’. 

Now, it would be a travesty to suggest that religion in general and Christian religion, in particular, is a type of Santa Clause ‘true myth’ though many people assume this to be the case. Still, there is much that we cannot and will not understand about the mysteries of God, of God-in-Jesus as Son of God and in the life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus along with the place of sacraments, prayer and witness in this life.  One thing that a Christian can never be caught out on is believing and acting as Jesus would have us act. We might even be pleasantly surprised after our death!  Sometimes, this way of thinking is classified as ‘Pascal’s Wager’.

A serious challenge to religious faith is the charge that a loving God could not permit huge and unnecessary suffering in the world. This charge is not easy to address. Glib answers along the lines ‘from evil comes good’ or ‘suffering is redemptive’ or ‘its an excuse for human compassion’ and so on do not hold water with many today.  In my view, there is no completely coherent or convincing explanation as to why God-who-is-love allows suffering including unspeakable barbarities (and sometimes carried out in the name of some god). Rather than try to explain it away we might be advised to accept the reality of suffering but strive to cleanse this world of all unnecessary and human-made suffering.

Jesus has shown us a way to live as well as a way to deal with the great questions and sufferings of life. More than this he shows himself as The Way.  He points us to the best way of life which can be nothing less or more than love – love laid down for others.  By following in this Way of Love we are assured of the truthfulness of the Jesus story. In so far as any human being can know the truth Jesus is the Truth about God-who-is-love.  So, Way and Truth go together for us who follow Jesus as The Way and The Truth. But, that is not all.  Jesus is, also, The Life.  If we were to think that we had embraced the way and the truth of the gospel but had no ‘Life’ in us then we are good for nothing.  That life which was the light of the world has entered our darkness whether we see, feel or know it. That life is like the blue sky above those Irish clouds: it’s there always to be noticed or sensed regardless of the shifting cold fronts sweeping in from the Atlantic Ocean.

When Jesus says ‘..believe me because of the works themselves’ he is offering us a type of ‘Plan B’ approach to Christian faith. Some today might find a recitation of the Nicaean Creed a challenge (to be clear, this blogger doesn’t have issues with it).  A lie detector wired up to members of an average (even greying) congregation on an average Sunday in an average Church might emit signals of possible discomfort arising from private mental reservations as people rise to give intellectual assent to various important propositions. To these, Jesus, in the 14^th Gospel of St John, is saying ‘well if you have problems with the wording of this then believe me because of the works of kindness, compassion, healing, mercy, peace, joy and liberation going all around you in this loving community’ or words to that effect. Ah, but what if the communities in which we are planted are not on fire in such manner that the pagans are dazzled?  Writing a century after the gospel of John was written the North African theologian Tertullian (some of the best Christian theology, at that time, was coming out of Africa and Asia) wrote in The Apology (39:7):

See, they say, how they love one another, for themselves [pagans] are animated by mutual hatred; how they are ready even to die for one another, for they themselves will sooner put to death.

If only!

(And, we wonder why are churches are emptying out and many people, especially, the young search for spiritual meaning, belonging and fulfilment somewhere else.)

None of the above is to be taken as a reason for laxity and indifference on areas of core doctrine (for middle-of-the-road Christians that means the authority of the scriptures, the truth of ancient creeds, the Gospel sacraments and the work of ministry at the service of the whole body of Christ). However, intellectual assent, alone, will never suffice to open the doors to the way, the truth and the fullness of life offered freely by Jesus. We need all three – a way of life, a body of truths and a life of honesty, integrity and genuine love.

Even still, among us are those who wonder and doubt some of the time or all of the time. To doubt is only to be human. To doubt and still carry on believing and trusting and living in love is to share in the divine.  Can anything stop us acting ‘as if it were true?’ Just try it and stick to it and you will see a continuation of miracles in your life. To believe (trust) in God is easier if we believe (trust) in the ‘works of God’ revealed through compassion in this often brutal but beautiful world.

The author of the letter to the Hebrews provides a very concise definition of faith as follows:

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1 – KJV)

What is that we hope for? We hope for one another life, peace, freedom and contentment in this life and, God willing, beyond this life.

What evidence is there that this hope is not in vain though we cannot ‘see’ God face to face? The evidence is written in our hearts as well as in the stars we gaze at on a clear night sky. It is all that we encounter every day – difficult and joyful, painful and glorious.  The ‘evidence’ is in front of us and within us if we could only open our hearts a bit more.

So, what level of evidence is sufficient for me or you? I turn, again, to Pascal to say it best:

‘Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas.’

("The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.")

More please

 ‘I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly’ (John 10:10)

John 10:1-10 (Year A: Fourth Sunday of Easter 7^th May 2017)

This week’s blog is going to avoid cuddly lambs and soft-focus pictures of Northern European looking shepherds gently holding passive looking sheep. Not that the image of sheep and shepherds do not hold powerful relevance and meaning even today in our very post-modern, individualistic, urban and non-pastoral settings.  The image of a kind shepherd going after and bringing home the weak, the sick and the lost is a powerful one. The image of sheep listening to the voice of their shepherd has resonance. A careful reading of this story reflects the detail of a very Middle-Eastern situation where the shepherd waits for the very last sheep and then goes ahead (and not behind) the sheep.  Such is the trust and the mutual knowledge between sheep and shepherd.

This blog focusses, rather, on the ‘so what’ statement that follows the story about sheep, shepherd and sheepfold. It is the statement that Jesus came that we might have ‘life’ and have it ‘abundantly’. But what does this ‘life’ mean?  Surely, everyone who is alive is alive. Does ‘life’ mean something different or additional in this context?  Clearly, it does.   We may be alive but not alive. We may breathe and move but yet not be fully alive. We might have all our faculties and be world-class sports players and, yet, be dead or only half-alive in another sense.

So what is it – this precious and mysterious thing that Jesus calls ‘life’?

Being alive in Christ – which is what this story is about – is more than behaving in some predetermined ‘religious’ way – saying prayers, going to Church, hanging out with similar minded persons, avoiding the seven deadly sins and being a good son, daughter, brother, sister, mother, father, spouse, partner, friend, colleague, citizen, etc. Being alive in Christ means entering a new relationship with someone who goes before us (like that nice cuddly European-looking shepherd). It means finding new life and a different life within us in a new relationship. Now, this is not the same thing as rolling up in a bubble of sanctimonious self-satisfaction. It means having our hearts broken open to others in whom Christ is really present and alive and moving. Perhaps one of the biggest tragedies of life – pardon the pun – is that some of us have never really ‘lived’. We may not have ‘lived’ ‘abundantly’.  The psalmist asks:

"Who is the one who will have life, and desires to see good days?” (Psalm 33:13)

The ancient Rule of St Benedict which has profoundly shaped monastic, religious and lay spirituality in Western Europe and beyond opens up with a concise and bold challenge:

Listen carefully, my child, to your master's precepts…

Ausculta fili – Give ear O Son (Proverbs 31.2) – the very opening words of the Rule (or the familiar phrase ‘Éist a Mhic’ in Irish) makes the point that we need to listen to the Voice of the One who can give life and give it to the full.

Too often we settle for less than the full life that is on offer because we don’t take time and space to listen  - really listen to ourselves, to others and ultimately to that continuing voice of Love which whispers to us every day in events, persons, emotions, thoughts, failures, joys and sorrows.

As one writer put it: ‘All that is asked of me is rapt attention, here, now, to others. And I’ll find the good life.’

But How do we know that Voice? How? It has three marks: Gentleness, Kindness, Inviting (more than compelling).

We have a sure foundation in Jesus who cares for each of us deeply and continuously as a mother does for a new-born baby and as a dying person does for those whom we have loved.  But, if we recognise the light and the life of God in the gentle, kind and inviting voice and face of Jesus who is the Face of God (another take on ‘Son of God’) then we, too, can be a gentle, kind and inviting voice and face for others who seek life and light.  We can choose to radiate kindness if we want and if we are serious about doing so. This is the life that God, in Jesus, has promised us and is available here and now.

The Christian singer Beckah Shae puts it so well in the song Life (lyrics here and music here):

More, more, more, more, moreThere's got to be so much more to this life….I'm gonna live the rich lifeThe full and blessed life..Exceeding and abundantlyMore than we could even ask or think,