PRIVILEGED COMMUNICATION WITHIN THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS
One of our wonderful Christian doctrines is our belief in the communion of the saints. To believe in the communion of saints is to believe that we can still tend to unfinished business in our relationships, even after death. We can still talk to those who have died and say the words of love, forgiveness, gratitude, and regret that ideally we should have spoken earlier.
All of us have experienced situations where, inside of a family, a friendship circle, community, or group of colleagues, a bitter difference grows up and festers so that eventually there is an unresolvable tension. Things have happened that can no longer be undone. Then someone in the family or community dies and that death changes everything.
In a strange way the death brings with it a peace, a clarity, and a charity which, prior to it, were not possible. Why is this? It's not simply because the death has changed the chemistry of the group or because, the source of the tension or bitterness has died. It happens because, as Luke teaches in his Passion narrative, death can wash things clean. Death releases forgiveness, in the same way as Jesus forgave the good thief upon the cross as he died.
This can be an immense consolation to us. What we can't bring to wholeness in this life can, if we are attentive to the communion of saints, be completed afterwards. We still have communication, privileged communication, with our loved ones after death. Among the marvels of that lies the fact that we still have a chance to fix the things, after death, that we were powerless to mend before death took a loved one away.
(Source: Fr. Ron Rolheiser, OMI)
Kargador at Dawn
Work in the Vineyard
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
Dhikr for the 30th Sunday of the Ordinary Time (A)
Text: "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"He said to him, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments." (Matthew 22:36-40)
Meditation: The Love of God and Love of Neighbor remain the basic ethical measure of our words, thoughts and actions. We should not behave and think like the Pharisees and Scribes who multiply laws yet are lacking in the real measure that counts…
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
Text: "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"He said to him, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments." (Matthew 22:36-40)
Meditation: The Love of God and Love of Neighbor remain the basic ethical measure of our words, thoughts and actions. We should not behave and think like the Pharisees and Scribes who multiply laws yet are lacking in the real measure that counts…
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
Dhikr for the 29th Sunday of the Ordinary Time (A)
Text: He said to them, "Whose image is this and whose inscription?" They replied, "Caesar's." At that he said to them, "Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God." (Matthew 22: 20-21)
Meditation: The usual distinction of what is God’s and Caesar’s usually comes to mind with the above passages. But the real challenge posed by the Gospel is to discern God’s will in our life and act truthfully according to His will…
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
Text: He said to them, "Whose image is this and whose inscription?" They replied, "Caesar's." At that he said to them, "Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God." (Matthew 22: 20-21)
Meditation: The usual distinction of what is God’s and Caesar’s usually comes to mind with the above passages. But the real challenge posed by the Gospel is to discern God’s will in our life and act truthfully according to His will…
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
Saturday, October 08, 2011
28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
Dhikr for the 28th Sunday of the Ordinary Time (A)
Text: 'The feast is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy to come. Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.' (Matthew 22: 8-9)
Meditation: The Parable tells us of God’s invitation to ALL! One caveat though… we are so busy with so many things thus finding ourselves NOT WORTHY TO COME… BEWARE!
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
Text: 'The feast is ready, but those who were invited were not worthy to come. Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.' (Matthew 22: 8-9)
Meditation: The Parable tells us of God’s invitation to ALL! One caveat though… we are so busy with so many things thus finding ourselves NOT WORTHY TO COME… BEWARE!
DHIKR SIMPLE METHOD
Dhikr is an Arabic word which means REMEMBRANCE.
1st step: Write the text in your heart.
2nd step: Let the text remain always in on your lips and mind - RECITING the text silently as often as possible...
3rd step: Be attentive to the disclosure of the meaning/s of the text in your life.
A Prodigal God
A PRODIGAL GOD
by Fr. Ron Rolheiser, OMI
2006-04-30
A couple of years ago, Barbara Kingsolver wrote a book entitled Prodigal Summer. It tells the story of young woman who got pregnant during a summer within which everything seemed to be dangerously fertile. From the plants, through the insects, through the animals, to the people, everything seemed to be teeming with fecundity, overactive, overabundant in seed. Life seemed to be bursting forth everywhere. The title of the book is good metaphor for what she describes, a summer overabundant in fertility.
Nature is like that, teeming with everything, prodigal, fertile, overabundant, wasteful. Why else do we have 90% more brain cells than we need and why else is nature scattering billions of seeds, of virtually everything, all over the planet every second?
And if life is so prodigal, what does this say about God, its author?
God, as we see in both nature and in scripture (and know from experience), is over-generous, over-lavish, over-extravagant, over- prodigious, over-rich, and over-patient. If nature, scripture, and experience are to be believed, God is the absolute antithesis of everything that is stingy, miserly, frugal, narrowly calculating, or sparing in what it doles out. God is prodigal.
Dictionaries define "prodigal" as "wastefully extravagant and lavishly abundant." That certainly describes the God that Jesus incarnates and reveals.
We see this in the parable of the Sower. God, the sower, goes out to sow and he scatters his seed generously, almost wastefully, everywhere - on the road, among the rocks, among the thorns, on bad soil, and on rich soil. No farmer would ever do this. Who would waste seed on soil that can never produce a harvest? God, it seems, doesn't ask that question but simply keeps scattering his seed everywhere, over-generously, without calculating whether it is a good investment or not in terms of return. And, it seems, God has an infinite number of seeds to scatter, perpetually, everywhere. God is prodigious beyond imagination.
Among other things, this speaks of God's infinite riches, love, and patience. For us, there is both a huge challenge and a huge consolation in that. The challenge, of course, is to respond to the infinite number of invitations that God scatters on our path from minute to minute. The consolation is that, no matter how many of God's invitations we ignore, there will always be an infinite number of others. No matter how many we've already ignored or turned down, there are new ones awaiting us each minute. When we've gone through 39 days of lent without praying or changing our lives, there's still a 40th day to respond. When we've ignored a thousand invitations, there's still another one waiting. God is prodigal, so are the chances God gives us.
Sr. Margaret Halaska once captured this wonderfully in a poem she entitled, Covenant:
The Father knocks at my door, seeking a home for his son:
Rent is cheap, I say
I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God.
I'm not sure I want to sell,
but you might come in to look around.
I think I will, says God.
I might let you have a room or two.
I like it, says God. I'll take the two.
You might decide to give me more some day.
I can wait, says God.
I'd like to give you more,
but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me.
I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what I see.
Hm, maybe I can let you have another room.
I really don't need that much.
Thanks, says God, I'll take it. I like what I see.
I'd like to give you the whole house
but I'm not sure -
Think on it, says God. I wouldn't put you out.
Your house would be mine and my son would live in it.
You'd have more space than you'd ever had before.
I don't understand at all.
I know, says God, but I can't tell you about that.
You'll have to discover it for yourself.
That can only happen if you let him have the whole house.
A bit risky, I say.
Yes, says God, but try me.
I'm not sure -
I'll let you know.
I can wait, says God. I like what I see.
If we look back on our lives and are truly honest, we have to admit that of all the invitations that God has sent us, we've probably accepted and acted on only a fraction of them. There have been countless times we've turned away from an invitation. For every invitation to maturity we've accepted, we've probably turned down a hundred. But that's the beauty and wonder of God's richness. God is not a petty creator and creation, itself, is not a cheap machine with barely enough energy and resources to keep it going. God and nature are prodigal. That's plain everywhere. Millions and millions of life-giving seeds blow everywhere in the world and we need only to pick up a few to become pregnant, fecund, capable of newness, maturity, and of producing life.
by Fr. Ron Rolheiser, OMI
2006-04-30
A couple of years ago, Barbara Kingsolver wrote a book entitled Prodigal Summer. It tells the story of young woman who got pregnant during a summer within which everything seemed to be dangerously fertile. From the plants, through the insects, through the animals, to the people, everything seemed to be teeming with fecundity, overactive, overabundant in seed. Life seemed to be bursting forth everywhere. The title of the book is good metaphor for what she describes, a summer overabundant in fertility.
Nature is like that, teeming with everything, prodigal, fertile, overabundant, wasteful. Why else do we have 90% more brain cells than we need and why else is nature scattering billions of seeds, of virtually everything, all over the planet every second?
And if life is so prodigal, what does this say about God, its author?
God, as we see in both nature and in scripture (and know from experience), is over-generous, over-lavish, over-extravagant, over- prodigious, over-rich, and over-patient. If nature, scripture, and experience are to be believed, God is the absolute antithesis of everything that is stingy, miserly, frugal, narrowly calculating, or sparing in what it doles out. God is prodigal.
Dictionaries define "prodigal" as "wastefully extravagant and lavishly abundant." That certainly describes the God that Jesus incarnates and reveals.
We see this in the parable of the Sower. God, the sower, goes out to sow and he scatters his seed generously, almost wastefully, everywhere - on the road, among the rocks, among the thorns, on bad soil, and on rich soil. No farmer would ever do this. Who would waste seed on soil that can never produce a harvest? God, it seems, doesn't ask that question but simply keeps scattering his seed everywhere, over-generously, without calculating whether it is a good investment or not in terms of return. And, it seems, God has an infinite number of seeds to scatter, perpetually, everywhere. God is prodigious beyond imagination.
Among other things, this speaks of God's infinite riches, love, and patience. For us, there is both a huge challenge and a huge consolation in that. The challenge, of course, is to respond to the infinite number of invitations that God scatters on our path from minute to minute. The consolation is that, no matter how many of God's invitations we ignore, there will always be an infinite number of others. No matter how many we've already ignored or turned down, there are new ones awaiting us each minute. When we've gone through 39 days of lent without praying or changing our lives, there's still a 40th day to respond. When we've ignored a thousand invitations, there's still another one waiting. God is prodigal, so are the chances God gives us.
Sr. Margaret Halaska once captured this wonderfully in a poem she entitled, Covenant:
The Father knocks at my door, seeking a home for his son:
Rent is cheap, I say
I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God.
I'm not sure I want to sell,
but you might come in to look around.
I think I will, says God.
I might let you have a room or two.
I like it, says God. I'll take the two.
You might decide to give me more some day.
I can wait, says God.
I'd like to give you more,
but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me.
I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what I see.
Hm, maybe I can let you have another room.
I really don't need that much.
Thanks, says God, I'll take it. I like what I see.
I'd like to give you the whole house
but I'm not sure -
Think on it, says God. I wouldn't put you out.
Your house would be mine and my son would live in it.
You'd have more space than you'd ever had before.
I don't understand at all.
I know, says God, but I can't tell you about that.
You'll have to discover it for yourself.
That can only happen if you let him have the whole house.
A bit risky, I say.
Yes, says God, but try me.
I'm not sure -
I'll let you know.
I can wait, says God. I like what I see.
If we look back on our lives and are truly honest, we have to admit that of all the invitations that God has sent us, we've probably accepted and acted on only a fraction of them. There have been countless times we've turned away from an invitation. For every invitation to maturity we've accepted, we've probably turned down a hundred. But that's the beauty and wonder of God's richness. God is not a petty creator and creation, itself, is not a cheap machine with barely enough energy and resources to keep it going. God and nature are prodigal. That's plain everywhere. Millions and millions of life-giving seeds blow everywhere in the world and we need only to pick up a few to become pregnant, fecund, capable of newness, maturity, and of producing life.
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