Into the Sacred Hills of Jade

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Thursday,  February 7, 2019

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that He was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and He was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above Him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, H said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” – Mark 2:1-7

“… and Jesus was speaking the word to the people…”  And what was that word?  There were not yet the Gospels nor the letters of Paul, Hebrews and James and the Revelation … no, I believe the “word” that He was proclaiming … was the miraculous and healing power of forgiveness.

Forefront in the Gospel of Mark, often considered to be reflective of Simon Peter’s recollection, is this account of the faith of the compassionate helpers and the healing of a paralyzed man.  This teaching moment is not forefront about faith, though faith is demonstrated; this teaching moment is not primarily about healing, though healing was performed; this teaching moment is about the power of humanity to serve as an agent of Divine forgiveness.

To provide contrast, to present the prevailing understanding, the scribes are concerned that this Jesus’ speaks blasphemy.  “What heresy is this?!  Only God Almighty can forgive sins!”  Jesus brought a new understanding … “Whatever you forgive on earth is also forgiven in heaven.”

Forgiveness is more than words.  Forgiveness is not the automatic response to “I am sorry”.  Forgiveness is not letting people  to get away with whatever.  No, forgiveness is a vow of restoration and renewal, a hope-filled gift that has faith in new beginnings having learned from our past sins.

The image I most often bring to mind is the story of the broken vase.  I was a youngster and through my reckless play I knocked over my mother’s vase breaking it in two.  Panicked, I found some glue and pasted the broken vase back together, returning it to the fireplace mantle.  My mother came in and made no mention of that vase.  Years later I was helping my mother move to a condo.  I unpacked that vase.  And it was so very, very obvious that the vase had broken and was clumsily glued back together.  I then, now as a middle-aged man, realized that I had not gotten away with breaking that vase.  No, rather I have been beautifully forgiven.

Yes, God is the One who forgives our sins, but God is not the only one.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Chairtas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,’”  John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.  – Mark 1:1-5

I have heard them for years, those Christians voices who declare that “unless a nation humbles itself and repents that nation will not be blessed by God.”  Yes, I have heard this warning now for a number of decades and I have observed a most curious and tragic thing …  it seems always directed toward other people and their sins and very seldom at themselves and their sins.

John the Baptizer lived in a similar time as ourselves.  And so he came preaching the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  And crowds came and answered his call to repent.  But as best I can see … the chief priests, the Bible scribes, the Pharisees, the Temple leadership … they were not counted among those who repented.

Confession/repentance is not what other people need to do, rather confession and repentance is always what “I” need to do.  Confession is the voluntary revealing of one’s inner self and its needs; repentance is the changing the direction of one’s life from the direction it was taking.  I find confession is rarer in these times, that is unless one is exposed for their past sins.  I find repentance is rarer in these time, I observe not much changing of life, especially among those who are quick to point out the sins of others.  I believe it is the fear of exposure, the fear of humility, the fear of being found to be in need.  Again, confession and repentance is not what those other people need to do, rather confession and repentance is always what “I” need to do, whoever that “I” might be.

Loved Ones, we too quickly and vehemently boast that we are the righteous ones and those others need to change their attitudes and ways.  We need to be a people who understand the wisdom of humility.  We need to be a people who understand that we all must take that journey to the river.  We need to be a people who accepts the fact that we all need to change our ways.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

TODAY’S DEVOTIONAL

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. – John 20:11-14

Those two mysterious angels who appeared on Easter morning.  Why two?  Were they waiting for Mary Magdalene or were they simply there?  And where did they go before the arrival of Peter and John?  Were they really there or were they in the imagination of a woman whose grief was made all the more by the disappearance of His remains?

I tend to believe that the writer of John’s Gospel included those two angels to ask the question that was also being asked in the hearts of Peter and John … “Why are you weeping?”

I weep more than I used to weep, not because of a lack of faith but because of the gaining of a mature faith.  And when I weep in quiet times … I can hear that angel … and more often, the Lord … asking me that very question …”Father Charitas, why are you weeping?  Is it because of an experience of loss, that somehow something beloved has seemingly been taken away?  Or is it the weeping of frustration, a frustration that has left your soul tattered and tired?  Or is it the weeping about the cruel, uncaring ways of Man?”

And then always appears … Christ sitting beside me … and we weep together for a while for He is an empathetic soul.  Then the tears subside and we live on.  So often it has the feel of a resurrection experience, not merely a return to the quality of life that was but one somehow matured.

Loved Ones, I pray you each have someone who is sensitive enough to your soul that they will ask tenderly …”Why are you weeping?”  And that someone may appear to be Christ in that moment.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Monday, February 4, 2019

Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.  When Jesus saw His mother and the disciple whom He loved standing beside her, He said to His mother, “Woman, here is your son.” Then He said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home. – John 19:25-27

This poignant moment at the crucifixion is one so very human, and I believe, illustrates what it means to be human yet divinely graced.  I call this moment “The Weeping of the Three Marys“.  The writer of John’s Gospel highlights these three women leaning upon each other in their grieving.  I think it is a personal reflection on the personal qualities of John, the disciple who experienced deeply the love of Christ for him.  It is as if Jesus were giving  last instruction to John to now turn that love to Christ’s widowed mother, “This Holy Love we shared John, now share that same Holy Love with others.”

Holy Love is a love of a certain quality.  Holy Love is both very human and very Divine.  Holy Love is deeply human and deeply Divine.  Holy Love is a relational love of a soulful kind.  And sadly, I find that Holy Love among Christians  is not as common as one would hope it to be.

How does Christ, and in turn John, describe this Holy Love?  In terms of welcoming another into the home of one’s life and there abiding together.  It is in this living together with Christ and with others that Holy Love matures into its intended maturity.  As we abide together our Love deepens as we yield to one another, becoming more and more One with each other even with our distinctions.  But too often, Christians begin to obsess with proving each other wrong even to the point of condemnation.  Too often, we begin to obsess with proving ourselves righteous  by exalting ourselves as the keepers of the definition of the Holy, even to the point of casting out the others out of the family.  Too often, we choose to live in the smoke of the battlefield rather than in the warmth of the Spirit’s hearth and heart.

I love the subtle understatement of the relationship of John and Mary … “and from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.”  I find that reference to his own home … might be taken literally, but is to me more meaningfully when taken metaphorically.

Loved Ones, who actually abides with Christ?  Just you?  Just others like you? Or are there others not so much like you?

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Saturday, February 2, 2019

“Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy.  When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world.  So you have pain now; but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. “  – John 16:20-22

“ … you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy …”  I have known weeping and mourning in my life, weeping over the cruelty of so many hearts, mourning over the loss of loved ones gone on before me.  The Lord has also taught me not to deny these experiences of sorrow, not to deny them or to discount their worth.  And the Lord has taught me that in time, the sorrow and mourning will face into joy once more.  Always … that remembrance of joy and the anticipation of joy allows me to be fully human in the time for tears.

I was present at the birth of my two sons and both times I was overwhelmed with the courage of my wife to endure the pain in anticipation of a coming joy.  I felt rather helpless as I coached her through her struggle for I was wanting all that tearful pain to go away.  It is a miracle, this giving birth, but possibly the most miraculous part was her totally amazing, almost instant recovery as her tears of pain transformed into tears of joy.

Christ uses a feminine imagery to describe the process of sorrow turning into joy.  I think possibly because no masculine imagery would prove sufficient to describe it.  At least, I cannot bring it to mind.

Some claim that their faith in Christ does away with the weeping and mourning, does away with the struggle and sorrow.   In the maturing of my faith, I find faith in Christ is a confidence, though sometimes shaken, that eventually the joy will once again return.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Friday, February 1, 2019

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.  I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. – John 15:4-5

I love the word, “abide”.  When I contemplate on that beautiful word, “abide”, the tone poem of the sparrows chirping in my sycamore tree while the squirrels are playing in my oak tree.  They abide in my parcel of Creation, but, even deeper than that, I abide with them.

I once believed in Christ, but now, I abide with Christ.  We peacefully and lovingly abide with each other.  I am becoming more and more by way of His Grace a human expression of His Divinity.  While at the same time, my humanity abides deep into His Presence, and His Divinity becomes all the beautifully humane.  It comes with abiding over time … this living as one.

My wife and I have reached that seasoning of our relationship … where we often finish each other’s sentences.  And I sense it is because our minds are becoming more and more sympathetic.  Though we are two unique and distinctive souls more and more of our inner selves can be found in the other.  After all these years, our souls abide.  This grace is all the more amazing for we each are by nature rather shy and private.

My prayer life has matured into an ongoing conversation between me and the Lord.  My daily life is a partnership in this work of lighting lanterns of faith in this world through which I journey.  I cannot even imagine ever being separated from each other, the Lord and I, for we have abiding with each other for so long.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Thursday, January 31, 2019

Then Jesus poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around Him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?”  Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to Him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” – John 12:5-8

Christ often teaches by way of guided experience, by way of an obedience that in its practice teaches.

Christ introduces Simon Peter to this teaching praxis in the humble act of servanthood, the washing of the dust off the weary feet of the traveler.  You find this in His words, “What I am now doing you do not understand in the moment, but afterward when you take time to reflect you will then understand.”  Learning by doing, and if you are reluctant to try, learning by way of obedience.

In the Benedictine tradition, obedience is one of the vows.  The root of the idea of obedience is not a cowering out of fear but rather a learning by way of listening.  To obey means to listen and to listen carefully and thoroughly.  And I find this so evident in this verbal exchange between Jesus and Peter … Peter is reacting out of self-will instead of listening to the experience of the Moment.

Listening to the Moment, we are so often too busy to give an attentive ear.  Listening to the Moment, we are often so defensive to allow the Moment to express itself.  Listening to the Moment, we are often so busy readying our response that so not all the Moment to have its say.  Sadly, in the rush of life listening is given lesser importance.

Likewise, we often fail to take the time to listen reflectively to the experience gained in the act of obedience.  We rush on to the next item on our agendas without allow the obedient experience to teach what it has to offer.  Far, far too often … we rush through life without deeply experiencing the Moments in life.  And when we neglect this “period of reflection”, this “momentary sabbath in the flow of events”, we turn a deaf ear to what the experience is trying to teach.

Simon Peter protests in a flash of false humility.  “Lord, You will never wash me feet!”  To which Christ responds … “Peter, if you are unwilling to experience this Moment then you will never learn what I need from you.”

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that His hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray Him. – John 13:1,2

Christ loved His own who still walked this earth … and He loved them to the end.  By the end, is John stating that He loved His disciples to His last day on earth?  No.  The resurrected Christ surely loved them.  By the end, is John saying that Christ loved His disciples to the fullness of His Love?  Sounds more likely.  Personally, I believe John is subtly teaching that Love, true Love, the Love that flows from the heart of God, endures and never ceases.  Do I Love in such a way?  Do I love unceasingly in an ever More Perfect Love?

Yet, I find another bit of mystery.  Is there any reason why John abruptly in a manner of harsh contrast that Judas, one of those whom He loved, would be deceived into betraying Christ?  I find it odd the juxtaposition of “those whom He loved” and stark characterization of one of those loved ones would betray Him!

Could it be that John, who does not paint an honorable portrait of Judas Iscariot in his Gospel, is feeling the need to remind himself of the nature of Christian Love?  I hear John saying, probably most of all to himself, even Judas whom He knew would betray Him, even he would be loved to the end.

When I imagine being in the shoes of John, I would react with utter disdain at what Judas had done.  But with time, time spent with the Risen Christ, I belief the disdain would turn first to pity and eventually a restoration of More Perfect Love, the Love by which Christ does Love.  It would take time; it would take prayer; it would take a cleansing of my soul of bitterness.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Tuesday, January 29. 2019

When the crowd learned that Jesus was there in Bethany,  they came not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well, since it was on account of him that many of the people were deserting the Temple’s authority and were instead believing in what Jesus was saying and doing. – John 12:9-11

When authority is challenged, it so often defends itself by way of desperate means.  When power is threatened, it so often tries to save itself by way of violence and oppression.  When evil is exposed, it so often rages with even greater evil.

In the beginning, in the eyes of the Temple authorities Jesus was but another voice in the countryside, a novelty, a curiosity.  But as time went by, He became a nuisance, a troubling ripple in the waters, someone to keep an eye on.  But by this time, this Galilean rabbi had become a threat, a leader of a growing movement who must be dealt with and dealt with quickly and, if need be, ruthlessly.

Evil begets evil.  It starts as a minor infection in the soul of the ambitious.  Then it spreads first unseen and then as an outbreak.  Evil does not like to lose any of its garnered power and will resort to evil ways to defend its authoritarian rule.  Evil always gets defensive when challenged and, in the end, with desperate aggression.  Evil spreads.  Evil intensifies.  Evil snarls.

Christ was crucified because of accusations brought by the Jerusalem Temple authorities; but Lazarus, he survived and became a leader in the Early Church.  It is the way with movements of God in human history.  Some are sacrificed only to become a more powerful living force because of that sacrifice; others endure, becoming the ongoing witness in the fulfillment of God’s wish for change.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz

DAILY DEVOTIONAL

Monday, January 28, 2019

Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother Lazarus would not have died.  But even now I know that God will give You whatever you ask of Him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”  Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.   – John 11:21-25

This interaction between Jesus and Martha in the midst of her grief is a most human moment.  She has faith.  She has faith in Christ and she once again affirms that faith in Him.  Yet, she expresses disappointment in Him.  I spent a lifetime in pastoral service including over a thousand funerals, and this emotional encounter between Martha and Jesus rings true.  The belief system is in place but the human experience is not denied.

Martha believe in the resurrection but in a certain way.  But Christ adds to her understanding of her belief.  Resurrection is not merely something that awaits some distant, rather the resurrection is involved in this very moment.

I find significance that Christ did not define Himself succinctly as, “I am the resurrection.”  No, He chooses instead, “I am the resurrection AND the life.”  It is as if He with keen intention wanted to like those two ideas together as one.  In Christ, we might believe in the resurrection in the last day, yet we also humanly experience in this present day.

In the Benedictine monastic practice, each morning is seen as a new resurrection.  Each morning is an awakening of new life.  Each morning is a new beginning, the old has died and the new is born.  The Benedictine vision is that each day we begin again, only a little further on.  In this way the resurrection is not only an event but also a process.

When I was a child, an aunt sent me a plaque for my bedroom wall.  It was a picture of a little boy kneeling beside his bed praying that classic bedtime prayer.  “NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP, I PRAY THE LORD MY SOUL TO KEEP, AND IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKED, I PRAY THE LORD MY SOUL TO TAKE.”  Though many for good reason have felt the need to amend that prayer for caution not to either place the child in fear or blame God for a child’s death, I ironically have re-adopted this prayer as an old man.  As a child I never actually thought I wouldn’t make it through the night, but nowadays that possibility is increasing in its odds of happening.  But this prayer nowadays does not ring with fear, but rather with an experience of peace.  Each morning for me is a resurrection experience in which I gain a fresh start in life.

With Resurrection comes change.  In the last day when we transition from one form of life to the next, we are transformed not merely resuscitated.  And with our daily resurrection change ought to be active.  In Christ, each day we begin again, only a little further on.

Always in Christ’s Service,

Fr. Charitas de la Cruz