Minding our precious pearls (and being grateful)

‘on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it’ (Matt 14:46)

Matthew 13:44-52 (Year A: Seventh Sunday after Trinity 30^th July 2017)

The fictional story of Rose in the film Titanic conveys a deep truth. ‘A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets’, said the elderly Rose about Jack Dawson lost in the sinking of the Titanic.  The dark blue diamond was thrown by Rose into the Atlantic Ocean in the vicinity of where the ship went down some 80 years previously – so the story goes in the film.

Finding a precious pearl and keeping it implies hard choices – sometimes painful choices for us and others.  Then again, losing or giving away a precious pearl implies hard choices – sometimes painful choices for us and others.

At this time in my life, what do you or I treasure the most?  Really? Does this match the way one lives?  It is one thing to say we live by such and such values or that some thing or relationship is our priority. It is another matter when it comes to the working out of our lives especially in near desperate situations.  The precious pearl hidden in our hearts might be a special love, a unique calling or a broad and vague intuition of something beautiful, greater, more lasting and deeper than is apparent at first sight. Our lives are lived on the threshold of hope as we wrestle with doubts and loves in this very, very messy world of ours.

Above all else what is the precious treasure or pearl of greatest value that I am not prepared to give away – ever?

Being clear about our goals, our values and our treasures is key to life’s journey and progress. It is a lifetime quest. But, it is worth it because a treasure of greatest price is just that.

Above all, we are treasured by the One who invites us to be our treasure. We can discover a light and an energy that is reflected and refracted in our very human treasures of loving and being loved.

Line by line

‘The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.’ [v. 44]

In this passage the field may refer to our heart. First, joy. Then going away to ‘sell all’ and coming back to ‘buy’ that treasure. Life is full of choices. We have our chances, we make our choices and we gather their fruits.

(And Mary treasured all these things in her heart….Luke 2:19)

Our treasures are often hidden and out of sight – to others and even to ourselves.  Note that the treasure didn’t just turn up: it was found following a search. We may also note that in finding the treasure the one who finds discovers joy. This establishes a connection from the heart to the object of desire. We read in Matthew 6:21:

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

We may discern – carefully – the action and inspirations of the Holy Spirit in the discovery of an inner joy and peace. But, this must be tested and re-tested because not every appearance of joy comes from God. Even still, on finding joy we may be like the one who went and sold everything he owned in order to buy the field in which the treasure was hidden.  She took a risk that the treasure would still be there. Moreover, she took a risk that the treasure would prove to be a treasure worth the sacrifice of all else.

What might our treasures be? They are many. How much are we prepared to let go of to secure that one treasure that counts? Which is the treasure of treasure of treasures that opens the way to all other treasures in our lives?

‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. [v. 45-46]

This repeats the point of verse 45, above. However, the image changes slightly to refer to a merchant going about his business in the market for pearls of outstanding value.  In the weekend edition of the Financial Times, a glossy brochure is included with information and promotions of all sorts of luxury goods and things well beyond the reach of all but the richest of readers of the Financial Times.  Though many of these have more than enough they continue to search for that ‘one thing’ that will bring them a special reward. I guess that it is about security and it is about being different from the crowd (or ‘better’ than the crowd). The human mind and the human heart are ever restless until they find that special and elusive thing. Many spend lives searching and never finding, asking and never receiving and knocking and never gaining entry. Perhaps they looked for the wrong things in the wrong places at the wrong times?

The merchant was ready to sell up and move on having discovered the precious pearl. Note that he was prepared and actually did sell ‘all’. ‘All’.  There are times in life when we might be ready to sell ‘all’. This would be radical Christian discipleship and discipleship not confined to the religiously consecrated or those who find themselves in extraordinary situations such as millions of Christians, today, in Egypt, Syria, Iraq and other places.

‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind [v.47] 

 The sea is a place of mystery. It looks so beautiful and not infrequently calm like the sea just beside where I live. But, beneath the surface lie surprises and unknown crevices and treasures. Further out into the ocean where no human being or camera has gone unknown species and other secrets lie hidden. Life can resemble an ocean where we have no idea, at first, what lies beneath the surface of people, relationships and events. We cast the nets, so to speak, in trust and expectation. However, what emerges is mixed, unpredictable, surprising and challenging. Over-fishing is widespread in places off the Irish coast as the sea gulls know when they descend on the towns and harbours in search of fish and the odd ice cream cone or chip in the hands of the unwitting! We may cast and cast again but find little by way of reward because we fish in the wrong places for the wrong things. We need to refocus our search. Or, perhaps we need to take a rest in the harbour until the storm passes by or stocks are restored?

‘when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.  So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’  [v.48-50] 

Any catch will be a mixed one especially when it is a question of a large dragnet or
sagēnē as it was written in the Greek.  Before anyone might wish to get choosy or discriminatory too quickly about who or who is not worthy to enter into full communion with us, let him/her (well, let’s face it is usually a he) learn from the parable of the fishing net and the kingdom of heaven. Jesus – even in Matthew’s Gospel – is more keen to talk about the kingdom (or God’s reign among us) than about the church (or ekklésia meaning a gathering) important as the gathering of disciples is to the work of God’s reign in this very changing and changeable world. We ought to leave judgment to God. In any case who is any one of us to judge another?  We are, all of us, under judgment at the seat of mercy and justice. There are things of which we would not be proud, as disciples of Christ, were we to be open about everything in our past or even our present.  And, nobody is so certain of their being saved until God calls us when He wills and as He wills.

“‘Have you understood all this?’ They answered, ‘Yes.’ And he said to them, ‘Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.’” [v.51-52] 

We think we understand. But, do we? Life is a school in which we learn wisdom, patience and love. The job is never finished. And in the living out of our discipleship we learn from those around us because the Holy Spirit is everywhere (and not just those in official garbs or with initials after their names). We are constantly receiving again the messages of old as we deepen our understanding and commitment to the living Christ. It can be painful to contrast what we thought was sure and solid with the realities of living. God confronts us again and again in the voices and faces of those who upset our neat and tidy order of things and along with that our incomplete or even misleading notions of God who serves to reinforce our prejudices and securities. We have much work to do and thank God we have the light of today in which to do it. We only have now. That is our precious pearl. And we should be very grateful for it.

What to do about those weeds?

 ‘Let both of them grow together until the harvest’ (Matt 24:30)

Matthew 13:24-43 (Year A: Sixth Sunday after Trinity 23^nd July 2017)

We take up the story of seeding – again – following last Sunday’s reading from the opening verses of chapter 13 of the gospel of Matthew. Having heard (and re-heard) the story of seeding on four different soils (The Generous Sower of the Four Soils) we now hear three more stories: the weeds among the wheat, the mustard seed and the leavening of yeast.  Note the development from seed to wheat to preparation of bread. The series of stories leads – typically and somewhat uniquely for Matthew – to an extended explanation by Jesus of its inner meaning and application. 

The art of story-telling (seanchaíocht)

The role of story-telling, parable and song throughout the sacred scriptures is vital. The Psalmist declares in Psalm 77:1-2:

Give heed, my people, to my teaching; turn your ear to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth in a parable and reveal hidden lessons of the past.

In this parable, Matthew divide the audience into the ‘crowds’ and the ‘disciples’. For the former audience story-telling grounded in real life was the main approach while for the latter audience a more theological explanation is on offer to those ready to listen and understand (the disciples). Could Matthew, here, be reflecting the conversations and concerns among the early Christian communities in which Matthew and his literary sources were developing? Making sense of stories was important and someone needed to spell it out. Yet, one of the great advantages of parables is that they can admit of more than one explanation or analogy. The early ‘Christian Fathers’ (the ‘Mothers’ hardly got a look in on official story-telling) were most creative and inventive in building the stories into connecting narratives relating the ordinary to the big themes of death, resurrection, church, end-time and so on. 

A good story-teller needs: (i) a competent story-teller (the seanchaí in ancient Irish custom), (ii) a receptive audience that is eager to listen and relate with the story and its teller and, (iii) a connecting story that echoes the concerns, hopes, experiences, insights and struggles of the audience. (The seanchaí might be seen as an ancient Celtic psalmist or file [poet] telling the story of her people in riddle and drama as well as personal anguish and hope).

Four horsemen lurking

For us listening, again, to the story of seeding, growing and harvesting the challenge is to connect our struggles to the story. Indeed, if the story does not in some way connect to our experience, memory, understanding and will then it remains for us something like a weed among precious plants. Rather than dividing ourselves into parties of good plants and bad weeds we might think again about how these stories invite us to look within and find a mix of things there. What are those feelings and thoughts of which we are scarcely aware of or which we would never readily share with another human being? For each one it might be different in detail but remarkably similar in the general pattern. If we stop, listen and look we may discern the choking weeds of guilt, sadness, anger and anxiety. If we are honest, we will find these ‘four horsemen of death’ (cf. Revelation 6) within ourselves. Translated to particular relationships we meet the four horsemen of criticism, contempt, defensiveness and stonewalling. These weeds choke even the best of people and kill the life of trust, respect and faithfulness. Yet, best efforts notwithstanding, these ‘horsemen’ can kill many a relationship at home, at work or in the community (yes and also churches!).

The wisdom of love

The idea of separating wheat from weeds is intuitively obvious. The wisdom of waiting ‘until harvest time’ before sorting out one from the other also makes sense. The parable is explained in terms of separating the good from the evil. 

In our daily living we encounter good and bad within ourselves and within others. Sometimes it is hard to tell one from the other. Moreover, it is too easy to rush to judgment especially when it concerns the behaviour or supposed intentions of others. Sometimes it is best to wait for the right occasion to address the ‘unwanted weeds’ bearing in mind, also, that we can get it wrong because ‘weeds’ have been described as ‘unloved flowers’. Stressing the positive in ourselves and others may be the first step to tackling what is not positive.

However, we also need to face up to the very reality of evil when it involves exploitation, oppression, lies, violence and hatred. Too often institutions, leaders in church, state and civil society avoided confronting evil by turning a blind eye or claiming defence of the good name of the entity as whole. In some cases leaders, officials and others were complicit in the very evil itself directly or indirectly through omission of steps to protect those whom they should have protected.

In any situation of conflict, challenge and moral contestation those involved need to show tact, patience and courage in doing what needs to be done. Leaving matters to others is not a right option. Neither is a one-sided blinkered approach that supposes we know who is in the right and who is in the wrong. Typically it is not black and white even though a misuse of the parable of the wheat and the weeds from this Gospel passage  sees ‘them’ (all in wrong and evil) and ‘us’ (all in the right and good).

Spotting and tending the weeds in our own hearts and souls is a good starting place. But, it does not stop there.

Is the best and only response that of ‘direct attack’? We need to be very careful in discussing general principles wrapped up in parables and metaphors. Context and big picture matter. Suffice it to say that ‘direct attack’ might actually make the situation worse. There is a time and a place for ‘direct attack’ on the ‘weeds’ (and not, it must be emphasised, on persons no matter who they are).  As a general principle, we do well to cultivate the positive seeds of gentleness, compassion, listening and affirmation.  Randomly scattered here and scattered there, carefully tended and given sustained effort we might see miracles in ordinary everyday living. Then again we might see nothing but the seeds sprout at another time and in ways we never imagined such as in the mustard tree where others rest.

Smiling at the weeds?

We might, circumstances depending, even go further and ‘smile’ at those weeds but not yield to them.  Now, one is not suggesting condoning bad behaviour or destructive thoughts in ourselves and others. But, there are times when the best policy is to smile at a negative but not dwell with it or surf it or give it authority or status. This is easier said than done. Sowing and cultivating ‘positives’ is, perhaps, the best defence and best way forward. The weeds wither away (but rarely die altogether and look for opportunities to grow again) and the positives take over in our hearts and minds. And this positive growth cannot avoid having some spill-over and influence on others.

The generous sower of the four soils

 ‘Hear then the parable of the sower’ (Matt 13:18)

Matthew 13:1-23 (Year A: Fifth Sunday after Trinity 16^nd July 2017)

Some weeks ago I bought some flowers together with a bag of moss as well as pots to contain the soil and flowers.  Along with other flowers, the newly acquired plants on my apartment balcony are doing very well – moistened as they are by the gentle sea breezes and frequent damp as well as nourished by occasional spots of sunshine from a hesitant Irish afternoon sun in between showers.  I didn’t plant those flowers: someone else did. However, I am now responsible for ensuring that they are looked after on a daily basis.  It is known not to rain for a number of consecutive days, here. The sea breezes quickly dry out the soil in the plant boxes and pots when this happens.

Sowing, planting, minding, pruning, replanting, waiting and letting grow are part of a natural life-rhythm. Our lives follow a seasonal pattern and we part of a living, growing and decaying and re-birthing universe. Nothing stands still. A mystery lies at the heart of all life. We are wise to go with the natural grains of nature and respect the delicate balance of life.

The saying ‘what we sow we reap’ has special meaning. Indeed, we could just as easily say ‘what others sow, we reap and what we sow, others reap’. I mind the plants because I want to see them flowering and giving a special beauty to all who pass by. They, also, remind me of my late mother who loved plants and had many of them about the house and in the garden where I grew up.

An observant person sees the hand of the creator in the natural rhythms of nature. Jesus was one such person. For him, growing up in a rural setting, the every-year process of sowing, waiting and reaping were very close. He drew insight from hearing, watching, understanding and communicating.  I dare say that not a small amount of the material for his parable or story-telling was told to Mary and to Joseph and his own family.

Beneath the image of sowing is the idea of growth and change which is not under our control. We sow and then we walk away for a while. Things happen. We cannot force anything. Not everything sown will sprout or grow. Some will. Then, some will shoot up for a while and quickly fade again. Jesus could read into these natural processes the wisdom of living. He saw patterns in the way people live and develop and relate to others. He probably encountered zealous young men who devoted themselves to prayer, fasting and study of the Torah but, who did not last the course. They had no roots.  Others embraced a life of devotion and scholarship only to become weighed down by concerns and addictions to power and control over others. They never really flourished. Then, others gave themselves where they were planted and bore much fruit as husbands, wives, leaders, servants or prophets like his daring cousin, John (the Baptist).

It would be easy to read the Parable of the Sower as a template for four different types of people:

1. Those who don’t listen or will not take in the Word of God (the ‘incurable sceptics’).
2. Those who go with it – possibly even enthusiastically – but then fall away (the ‘happy-clappy zealots’).
3. Those who go with it and might even make a lifelong commitment but due to the circumstances of life and the pleasures and worries of life succumb to alternative paths (the ‘burnt out’).
4. Those who embrace the Word and let it grow and grow and from which they flourish and flourish. (many around us).

We might identify ourselves in each of these four soils in different parts of our lives or in different phases of life. For example, one might have entered upon the religious life in young adulthood but was not given the gift of perseverance as the saying goes. Then, one might re-discover a calling to serve in some way that reignites a seed sown much earlier. Then again, one might follow the painful path of a broken relationship after many, many years of thorns that choked a loving relationship. However, God works in mysterious ways and is generous in the sowing of new seeds and possibilities. Rather than seeing each of the four soils as a series of ‘single last chance saloons’ we may be looking at the generosity of God who always has new seeds to scatter along our way no matter what came before or how old we are. We might even be surprised by new plants and flourishing like those hardy geraniums facing the occasional easterly gale from the Irish sea on my apartment balcony.

From among the worries, cares, hardness and back-sliding the story urges us to be like the fourth soil – the fertile soil – open, ready, receptive and active. But there is another take on this. Perhaps we feel that we are planted in a very stony place at this time and in this place? And we feel trapped there. The story of the sower urges us to think again. We may be called to thrust down deep roots where we are. And miracles can happen in the ordinary.

And in speaking of sowing we know from the parables of Jesus that bad seeds yielding bad results in the form of weeds and thorns can also find their way into our hearts and minds. We must be vigilant. The best response to bad seeds is good seeds and the cultivation of good seeds in the soils of our innermost hearts.

To flourish as children of God we need to be:

• Disposed, open and attentive to life (the fertile soil)
• Ready to receive the watering and sunshine of prayerfulness, sacramental life and communion with others in the living out of faith.
• Always ready to start again and be open to God’s never-failing generosity
• Flourish where we are planted!

Don’t be surprised if new and good seeds are sown where you are.

Finding times and places for rest

 ‘for I am gentle and humble in heart’ (Matt 11:29)

Matthew 11:25-30 (Year A: Fourth Sunday after Trinity 9^nd July 2017)

At this time of the year, many are heading for the sea or the mountains or just some quiet place to relax and recharge. It could be on foot of a particularly stressful and tiring 12 months for whatever reasons. 

Some, for one reason or another, do not have the means or the time to do so. Or, perhaps, they are more than content to stay where they are.  ‘Holidays’ are a relatively modern phenomenon. From a country retreat for the aristocracy to package holidays for school completers, the world has changed. Even in the space of a few decades what was regarded as exotic or luxurious such as travel by air or travel to ‘the continent’ now seems very ordinary.  Notions of grandeur and the exotic have shifted.

We, all, need to rest sometime. If we live for 90 years then we will have spent approximately 25 years asleep in a bed. Nature attaches a lot of importance to bodily rest!  Though we might ‘work’ 25, 35 or 70 hours a week (I suspect people are given to exaggerate the amount!) we spend a lot of time doing other things from cooking, shopping, travelling, talking, visiting, caring and other things.  Indeed, women, parents and others know all about double-jobbing and long hours and late nights and early mornings.

It is amazing that some of us have any time to read, write or study in the midst of highly pressurised lives spent, always, on the run and in between deadlines and meetings and fixtures.  Add to the mix the modern-day reality of constantly online presence. The last thing at night or first thing in the morning – have a squint at email or WhatsApp or facebook or one of the news channels (and not uncommonly on a little gadget called a smartphone).

Mindfulness

Yet, just as life speeded up and we entered a frenetic way of living more and more people are turning to ‘mindfulness’. I even engage in it myself on a little ‘headspace’ application on my phone as I try to ‘let go’ and ‘stay gently focussed’ sitting on a commuter train into Dublin city every morning.  

There is nothing essentially new in the art and practice of mindfulness. Nor is there anything new in being busy. Our grandparents (or great grand parents) did not have the benefit of washing machines, dishwashers, motor cars or running water. Neither do 100’s of millions of people in various parts of our modern world. Notions of a 35 hour a week, four weeks paid holiday or the institution of the ‘weekend’ (and in more recent times the annual mid-winter ‘Christmas’ break which seems to get longer every year).

We know we need to rest some of the time and, in a way, all of the time. There is a restful way of approaching work and relationships just as there are ways of wasting energy in patterns of thinking and behaviour which are unfruitful. The choice is ours.

Prayer is not a ‘cool’ thing these days. ‘Mindfulness’ or yoga fits the bill.  Anyone (at least in southern Ireland) who might put down ‘prayer’ on his/her CV under the heading of ‘hobbies’ and ‘interests’ would be regarded as ‘one of those religious nut-jobs’. Yet, it is not that long ago that whole family gathered together in kitchens to recite the traditional prayer of the rosary or other family devotions. Sunday was a special day for many people. I remember Dublin in the ‘rare old’ days when Sunday was a very quiet day with major shops, businesses, etc closed and traffic was relatively light.  The further north-east one travelled on the island of Ireland the quieter Sundays got.

Prayerfulness

At its simplest ‘prayer’ is an act of raising mind and heart to God. Or, to put it another way, prayer is the art of calming the mind and heart to become aware of God’s love in our lives.  Making time and space for prayer every day is a major challenge. But, nothing is impossible where there is a will. A time of mindful and prayerful rest is like an oxygen for the body and soul. We know it when we really try it and stick at it: it gives us space.

What stands in the way of reaching a place of rest? It is the weight of our negative thinking and limited outlook? Here is a paradox: it is ‘the wise and the intelligent’ as Jesus describes them who fail to see the bigger picture. Caught in a mind-frame and immersed in the detail of the Law or the literature, they cannot see the obvious in front of them. Today, many pour over the scriptures and learned discourses on matters philosophical, theological and systematic. Yet, the most learned and qualified of scholars may – in the absence of faith – fail to see the point or grasp the ‘meaning of life’. It is simple and it is complex. We unnecessarily complicate our lives and those of others by always trying to fit mysteries into human-crafted boxes. The story goes that the great scholar and mystic, 13^th-century Saint Thomas Aquinas who, when faced with impenetrable mysteries, just laid his head on the tabernacle holding the Blessed Sacrament elements. Abandoning himself in faith to the crucified Jesus he saw a light that even this most learned doctor could not see without recourse to faith.

We need Holy Spirit moments when the Spirit comes down over the material of our head-filled Christianity to move not only our intellects but our hearts and our wills.

Book learning and academic scholarship are excellent means in the human search for meaning and truth and goodness. That Jesus extolled the benefits of a deeper wisdom and insight rather than mere academic discourse and speculation is not to be taken as in any way as justifying a certain anti-intellectualism which holds sway in many cultures – not least in cultures familiar to many readers of this blog.

Line by line ….

In saying ‘Come to me..’ (verse 28) Jesus is offering himself as an immediate and real friend of our soul.   Coming to a place or person or state of mind is the first step. It means going to something and someone greater than our immediate situation where we can be ourselves.

 ‘.. all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens..’

It means coming as just as we are Warts and all, Worries and all and Wants and all (WWW) Specifically, it could mean putting aside special times and places where we can be still for a few moments. The morning can be a good time. Also the evening. Or, in the middle of the day. Or, any other time depending on circumstances.

‘..and I will give you rest..’

The rest spoken of here is an inner freedom together with a certain underlying peace and contentedness even in the midst of great anguish, stress and sadness (..peace is never without a price).

‘Take my yoke upon you..’

Taking on the yoke of discipleship means dying/denying/losing in a certain way in regards to our own plans, opinions, terms of reference and ways of framing the world around us and within.  It means following a call to serve others in ways that we never thought of or expected.

‘and learn from me..’

Learning is about changing. Learning is about being open to experience, example and doing with others. It is not to be confused with teaching which may lead to learning. But not all learning (or teaching) are positive. A lot of learning can be about Unlearning.

‘..for I am gentle and humble in heart..’

The most powerful form of learning is that which is associated with the example of a teacher who is gentle, honest and humble because the One who exemplifies is a humble suffering servant foreshadowed in the Old Testament/Hebrew scriptures.

‘..and you will find rest for your souls.’

Finding rest is the fruit of trust and abandonment to God’s will as it is revealed to each one on the path of life. How do we know when we find rest for our souls? This question is redundant when we find such rest!

‘..for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.’

Really? Following the high road of lowly service is counter-cultural and always was.  In what sense is the yoke of discipleship ‘easy’ or its burden ‘light’? It is the sense that by putting aside our plans and our wishes we find new plans and new wishes that release new depths and expressions of human creativity that we never imagined or dreamed of. The problem, too often, is that our world view and ‘wish-fors’ are small world shadows.

Life is too short to drink bad wine and coming to Jesus and taking his yoke is much too attractive to turn down. Be reckless. Be open to restfulness you never dreamt of.