Wisdom of the Sands

A Week of Reflection In the Tradition Of The Early Desert Fathers and Mothers

Fr. Michael Abair

Day One + Preface

Scorching hot sands, elemental nuisances of every variety, an irregular menu consisting largely of moldy bread, the occasional cranky neighbor and a small hut or cave in which to lay your head down at night (on a rock, perhaps) were among the accommodations for the would-be pilgrim of the desert in the ancient world. Any takers? It would seem to most, even among the ascetically inclined, that the life of the Desert Mothers and Fathers applied to the present life of the faithful would be present a clear incompatibility. And yet, as the late contemporary contemplative Thomas Merton writes, it was to the desert that women and men fled to “swim for their [very] lives.” [1]What was it then that drew so many men and women to flee to the desert in the early Church? Where was it within that curious environment that such a richness of spiritual practice was cultivated and passed on through the centuries? And finally, can we, as contemporary inheritors of the broader tradition of the Church uncover within the lives of the Desert Mothers and Fathers of antiquity some treasure for our own lives buried in the ancient sands? It is with these questions that I invite you to take a journey with me this week; sun-block will not be required, but the courage to dare- essential.

Let us begin our journey in a contextual map today.     While the means of cultural perception and remedy of societal ills clearly varies from age to age, the systemic root of these rotten fruits within the Desert era are not altogether dissimilar from those which challenge the faithful in our own day. The Mothers and Fathers of the Desert were the product of a society in which the Christian faith was continuously being challenged with the malevolent realities of the human condition that were manifestly rampant within their cities, homes and even within their churches. They fled that they might, like Jesus himself, come to a place of deep interiority where the work of avoiding temptation and nourishing the True Self would be their central and only work – the work of coming to conscious reunion with their Source and their End.

 Our present situation is then, in many ways, not wholly unlike that of our foremothers and fathers in faith. We too live in a world in which the systemic evils of materialism, authoritarianism, exploitation of the marginalized, and disregard for the sanctity of human life are agents of mass spiritual destruction. In this way, we too, in fidelity to who it is that we are in God – imago dei; created in his very image and likeness – that we are called to a life of pilgrimage. We are a pilgrim people, a people ever seeking the Holy; the God who desires nothing more than to be found within us. A growing union with Our Lord still does not bring us to our final destination; for this is a joy that passes all human understanding. We are, therefore, a perpetually pilgrim people in this mortal life; the people of God, wed to him as Church: both who we are and the Mother who nurses us into whom we are ever-becoming.

The purpose of this journey into the desert, then, will be to examine the specific ways in which the Desert Tradition might still speak to us, heal us in our brokenness and call us to the holy sands within the depths of our own beings and at the heart of our faith communities in the present day. This journey is most appropriately charted in light of one of the Earliest and – in the Western Tradition perhaps best known – Saint Anthony of the Desert. We don white on Thursday in the Memorial of this Desert Father and most rightfully so; Anthony was himself the origin of what has been called a “white martyrdom” in the historical development of the Church; he embodied the spirituality of the “red martyrdom” interiorly. In this way, this journey is especially relevant to each of us for,  whether ministering in a context which places us in the sphere of a potentially bloody martyrdom or not, we are all called to sacrifice and self-emptying as a part of the membership in which we partake as a Christian People.

                 There will be a necessary the brevity in this journey [A week with the Desert Tradition is liken to a grain of sand within the desert itself] , however,  the innumerable applications will be summarized and our exploration will focus its attention upon several particular over-arching themes I find to be particularly relevant to our lives in ministry. We will engage in this journey in a four-fold approach, with Tuesday through Friday each engaging – in the order presented – Reflection in one of the following areas “in the desert” : Retreat, Introspection, Illumination and Action. By venturing into our own deserts with the aid of this working “map” of our forbearers, I am hopeful that sustenance may be uncovered in the sands of the early Church; a gathering of wisdom that will nourish us in our lives today.

Spiritual Exercise for Day One

Having read through the overview for the Week, in preparation for tomorrow [Retreat] it is most helpful to situate yourself, literally and figuratively speaking, in a space conducive to entering the inner desert. My suggestions, would be inclusive of the following:

1.)    The Week will engage the following for those who wish to follow the sequence of the recommended Exercises:

 

a.)    sacred space: what qualifies this term for this particular series of meditations is its theme. The desert is an unembroidered sand-scape. There is significance in this, both within the Tradition, and as relates to any contemporary immersion in it. A sacred space most conducive to this journey is essentially bare and undecorated externally; a singular mark of the sacred – and I would suggest this mark be in context with the theme of the Journey [i.e. a small dish of sand in which to place a tea light candle or perhaps a stone] may also be a helpful aesthetic aide in preparation.

b.)    The Scriptures: both Old and New Testament Readings will be suggested as aides in the journey; with passages particularly relevant to the Desert Tradition.

c.)    Light: moving past mid-week, Illumination becomes the theme on Thursday, with a spiritual exercise suggesting the use of a small and simple candle.

d.)    Journal: This is the most fundamental tool for the week; the desert journey – however graced in itself – graces us only to the degree to which we truly desire it. Spiritual Exercises will be inclusive, daily, of the utilization of the Spiritual Journal [a recommendation I can never repeat enough!]

 

2.)    Once you have established a space in which to embark upon the desert journey, you have already begun. The shift from a typically embroidered space to an intentionally bare one is symbolic of the heart of the wisdom of the Desert Tradition. Presently, however, having only begun, place yourself in the space you have situated for the purposes of this Week. What is there to look at? What catches your eye? What is interesting about the space? If you can readily answer these questions, re-think the situation of space you have chosen. The objective is to be in a physical environment exteriorly manifesting the desert heart; mysteriously unmarked and seemingly a kind of space of nothingness. Now, in a space such as this, look to your spiritual journal in reflecting on your feelings in the space. Take note of whatever feelings surface, of discomfort, confusion, contentment, anxiety, anticipation, etc., etc., and allow yourself to sit with these feelings in the space you have created. Recording your feelings today is a preparation for a deeper movement into those feelings tomorrow, marking “Retreat.”

Wisdom of the Sands

A Week of Reflection In the Tradition Of The Early Desert Fathers and Mothers

Fr. Michael Abair

Day Two + Retreat

            For the contemporary reader of the Desert Tradition, one of the things that strikes us as most radical is the idea of abandoning all and moving into an unknown territory. We thrive on comfort and security and for many of us the model of the desert pilgrim venturing off into the unknown and mysterious sands elicits within us a great sense of both awe and fear. For most of us, a literal retreat into the desert for a prolonged period of time may not be an optimal path for the deepening of our spiritual lives. Underlying the physical act of separation, however, was for the ancient Mothers and Fathers of the desert an intention of Retreat in a more interior sense of the word. To retreat is to “come away” from what is ordinary for us and to place our feet upon the sands of the unknown. To retreat is to withdraw from the externals in our lives that we might journey deeper inside of ourselves. To venture into the depths of our hearts in this way is to seek God within our own person-hood –  a shift from a felt sense of being  without him to finding him- within. 

                While the ancient Mothers and Fathers approached the Divine Mystery by way of both an interior and an exterior retreat, for this contemporary application, the retreat is understood as an intention to journey into the unknown pathways of the human heart. Retreat, in this sense, may take manifold forms for the contemporary person. Retreat may be for us: one day a week in which we share ourselves completely with God through reading and prayer, an evening with our spouse in the middle of a busy week in which to nourish each other through our shared presence, a yoga practice in which our mat becomes our desert and we can – for a couple of hours – enter through our bodies into the Spirit who breathes within us. The potential applications are countless. What is central to each of the aforementioned is the model of Retreat as that which calls us away from the ordinariness of our lives and gives us over to the hands of The Sculptor of Souls – molding us and shaping us into her own beautiful works.

                For the Mothers and Fathers of the Desert Tradition, Retreat may be understood as suggestive of a number of particular items to reflect upon. Mapping out the journey of the mystic sands begs clarity as to a number of core aspects elicited from the ancient Tradition:

1.) Solitude: of what value is “space” in our lives? How do I feel when I am alone in the Presence of God with no one else?

As to this first question, for many, and particularly for clergy-persons ironically, there is an underlying fear present in being altogether alone with God. This is frequently remedied superficially through countless works, but what the Desert Tradition draws to light is that our works – however charitable – are not a part of an integrated spirituality unless they are rooted in the personal relationship between the human person and God. The dynamic of fear present in solitude is one which cares neither to face the shadow-self, that most mysterious and dark aspect of our humanity, nor to face the possibility of a Silence that may be misperceived as an absence of the Presence of God. This second variable becomes another question in itself.

2.) Silence: “ Be still and know that I AM God,” echoes the psalmist. Implicit to this stillness is a gravely misunderstood means of communication between God and the human person; namely, the language of holy silence. Paradoxical? Indeed, but we may break the confusing aspects of such a notion down by the way in which we adopt aspects of the Desert Tradition of Prayer in this form. For the Desert Fathers and Mothers, a great deal of “prayer,” and this was a response to the injunction of Saint Paul that we “pray without ceasing,” was without word or thought whatsoever. This is a strange concept for the people of God in the year 2008, and yet, the prayer form is made more widely known to women and men with an interest in deepening the interior life with greater frequency than ever before. The Prayer of Silence, or “Prayer of the Heart,” as the Eastern Desert Fathers frequently made reference to it as, is essentially an emptying of word and thought/symbol and image in a complete openness to the Holy Spirit. This is the prayer of Presence; the final of the three points to mark on our maps on this day.

3.) Presence: most persons schooled in a rudimentary Catholic presentation of “prayer,” speak of, or are cognizant of for that matter, no other way of understanding prayer save that of “talking to God.” This kind of prayer is incredibly valuable in the spiritual growth of the Christian; however, “prayer” is by no means bound by a singular means of communication. “Presence,” is akin to what many non-Christian Eastern Traditions term “meditation.” It is lamentable that in the Christian Tradition, while much has been written of this prayer form [“meditation” in Christian spirituality typically means something very different than that of the non-Christian Eastern forms – it is best termed “contemplation,” in our tradition] so little of these prayer forms are made known to practicing persons of the Catholic faith who – feeling something missing at times in their prayer lives – believe this to be an aspect that is not inherent to the Christian Spiritual Tradition; while in fact the exact opposite is the reality.

                Finding its origins in the lives of the early Desert Fathers and Mothers, Presence is to be understood as a form of prayer in which the human person, in silence and solitude, opens the heart with the intention to deepen interior union with the in-dwelling Trinity. The only thought, and even this thought precedes the actual formal practice, is that of an intentional interior opening of the heart to the movement of the Holy Spirit within. Today this prayer form has taken on many names within the Christian Tradition [perhaps the most popular being that of “Centering Prayer” as espoused by the eminent Frs. Thomas Keating and Basil Pennington of the Roman Church] and has become a part of an international phenomena in the resurgence of the treasures of our faith; buried in the sand but kept whole nonetheless – treasures of the Company of the Faithful in Christ for the purposes of always drawing us nearer to him.

On this very note, let us turn our attention back to the Retreat in which we partake this week. The essential elements of Solitude and Silence give way to Presence, and moreover, moving into the Recommended Spiritual Exercises for this day, praying in the deserts of our hearts.

Spiritual Exercises:

There are several ways in which to more deeply appropriate the significance of the over-arching themes cited in the spirituality of the Early Desert Fathers and Mothers. Furthermore, each of the general headings – by themselves – open to the contemporary desert pilgrim what may be uncharted territories. I offer the following suggestions this day:

1.)      Re-read the sections on Solitude and Silence in such a way that the material – in question form – can be most fully absorbed and contemplated. Utilizing the Spiritual Journal, confront these questions – in the spirit of St. Anthony of the Desert whose Life [written by St. Athanasius] was one of the confrontation of his own demons – and wrestle with them as necessary. Take a look at Solitude/Silence while in the space of your Retreat as it applies to your life in general. Have you made room for it? Are you comfortable in being alone with God; why or why not? Finally, what emotions are elicited in Solitude for you, generally speaking and specifically as relates to this exercise?

2.)      The Practice of the Presence: The notation of the “Prayer of Silence, of the Heart, or the Practice of Centering,” etc., all stem from the Desert Tradition. In the space of the desert of your own creation for this week, spend some time engaging in this self-emptying form of prayer. If familiar with a particular method (i.e. Centering prayer or “Christian Meditation” as understood by the late John Main and the present work of John Finely) work with this format if helpful; for those unfamiliar with this form of prayer,  follow the very simple directives below:

a.        In the space of your Retreat, situate yourself in a seated position that is

      Comfortable, but supportive of the erect spine for deep, rhythmic breathing.

b.       Once situated in this position in your desert space, pause for no more than a moment and project an interior movement, an intention of openness to the movement of the Spirit. This may be, to cite a specific example, making the Sign of the Cross or simply projecting these few words internally: “Lord, I open my heart to You.”

c.        The prayer form, as described in the Reflective portion of the text is, as simple as it sounds [simple but frequently mysterious or frustrating when engaging in the prayer form for the first time] – simply place yourself in a space of exterior/interior emptiness before the Lord and be open [be open is quite distinct from “listen for” as the “listening for” can become an impediment to the prayer] to a felt sense of God’s Presence as experienced in the physical, psychological and spiritual interior movements. The suggested time for this practice for one not typically adjusted to it would be approximately 10 minutes [those who regularly engage the practice frequently pray in this way for 20-30 minutes at least twice daily].

d.       Upon the completion of the space of time allotted, be sure to make notes in your Spiritual Journal [there is no such thing as an “inappropriate note” in a personal account of your spiritual life – i.e. if the practice was terrible, this is as – if not more – important to take note of in your writing as it gradually marks the character of your prayer life.

3.)      A final exercise which may be combined with either, or both of the above is a prayerful reading of the Psalm of this day, specifically with attention to the Response; speaking so very dearly of the spirit of this Reflection:

 Responsorial Psalm: 1 Samuel 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8abcd
R. (see 1) My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.
“My heart exults in the LORD, my horn is exalted in my God.
I have swallowed up my enemies; I rejoice in my victory.”
R. My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.
“The bows of the mighty are broken, while the tottering gird on strength.
The well-fed hire themselves out for bread, while the hungry batten on spoil.
The barren wife bears seven sons, while the mother of many languishes.”
R. My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.
“The LORD puts to death and gives life; he casts down to the nether world;
he raises up again. The LORD makes poor and makes rich; he humbles, he also exalts.”
R. My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.
“He raises the needy from the dust; from the dung heap he lifts up the poor,
To seat them with nobles and make a glorious throne their heritage.”
R. My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

Spiritual Directions

Navigating the Heart of the Catholic Faith

A Spirit-Centered Formation Program of the Reformed Catholic Church

While none save God alone can project the movement of his Holy Spirit and the impact of this movement in the lives of his people, the nearer we draw to deepest parts of ourselves the greater the intuitive movement which aligns our own sense of vision with that of God’s. In this alignment, as members of the Reformed Catholic Church – or as I often refer to our ecclesial identity “The Catholic Church Ever Re-forming,” there can be no sincere detesting that growth, and at an incredibly unprecedented rate, is perhaps the element of which we cannot help but to be most certain of at this time. Many beautiful words have been used to describe the evolution of the Catholic Faith realized in each of our hearts as manifest in who we are, individually and collectively, as the Reformed Catholic Church. Metropolitan and Presiding Archbishop Phillip Zimmerman makes use of the rich symbol of the Church as a fifth pillar of the Catholic Tradition. In this same vain is the term “New Pentecost” used to describe what is so enamoring to watch – the realization of the Gospel and the translation of that Gospel into our own “Gospel Lives.” Indeed, the Spirit is well at work in the hearts of her faithful people, gifting this Tradition with a charism of emergence; a call to be agents of Transformation. The vocation to be witnesses of the Dream of a God whose Love, manifest in Christ, knows no limits is that absolutely fundamental point of unification and communion within this international body.

While the real can feel at times to smother the “ideal” which comes with incorporation into this Faith Family, genuine discernment in community have brought most of us to a place in our lives in which we have surrendered to this Dream. Without understanding it in its fullness, our lives are grounded in faith, nourished in hope and embodied in love as the living bricks of a New Paradigm in Catholic Christendom. Absolutely fundamental to fully engaging ourselves in this Holy Mystery are both an understanding of the way in which it relates to those who have gone  before us, as well as, within our own times coming to embrace the graced Body in which we are eternally members. As to each of these essentials is a necessary preparedness and ongoing formation into that which God calls us to be; liken to himself in whose image and likeness we are each created. Saint Athanasius, one of the earliest defenders of the Catholic faith uttered this profound statement

Wisdom of the Sands

A Week of Reflection In the Tradition Of The Early Desert Fathers and Mothers

Fr. Michael Abair

Day Three + Introspection

                Having given ourselves over to Retreat from the ordinary in this period of interior rest in the Extraordinary, we move from this space into a deeper movement of Introspection. For our purposes, we will work with the theme of Introspection as namely: the re-direction of consciousness from the exclusively exterior so as to discover the Hidden Reality within. Introspection takes our minds out of our heads and draws consciousness into the center of our hearts, where we come to meet the immanent God. It is at this junction in our journey that we take inventory of our experience in the desert. Creating a space of isolation conducive to this Week’s Reflections and having examined the expansive model of prayer which comes to us from the Desert Tradition, this is a time in which to examine the movement of the Presence of God in our hearts as relevant to the context of this particular form of spirituality. It is strongly suggested that the Spiritual Journal is made use of in on-going Reflection for the entirety of the Week; noting – in complete honesty and openness – our reaction to this model in both its presentation and, moreover, as it has been experienced in the form of some or all of the suggested spiritual exercises.

                The Desert was historically, and remains presently [however varied in form] an intentional space conducive to introspection. Men and women flocked by the hundred-folds into the desert following the first of t hose espousing this model of spirituality, as noted on Monday, “to swim for their very lives.” What are we to make of such a profound statement? What is quite evident is that “swim,” in this context implies an urgency and “lives” relates to a fullness of life spiritually as opposed to reference to a pulse and the capacity to breath. “Life,” in the Desert Tradition is inherently an undettered movement; a transition of the life of the ordinary self into the Deeper Self [or the True Self as called by many]; this Deeper Self partaking in the fullness of the Spiritual Life in the awesome Reality of the Triune God immanent and calling us to the fullness of mortal life through participation in the Divine. The  term or phase of “Introspection” in the desert schema relates, therefore, to the means by which we draw closer to the Light of True Life within. This introspection nourishes the fragmented and wounded soul with the balm of the Holy Spirit. For the non-monastic, introspection of this nature is a gift of the desert for the purposes of moving from fragmentation to healing; becoming then, agents for the healing of others.

                Spiritual nourishment from within a desert model is therefore grounded within the soil of this introspection. Introspection speaks to the fundamental and unavoidable need for the minister in the world to act as stewards of the Holy in such a way that stems from the mystery of the holy desert – our inner lives – the only fuel that authenticates apostolic ministry. Without the interior navigation and marking of that place within ourselves, discovered by the compass of discernment, we are little more than enthusiastic idealists. Without an introspective grounding the desert becomes for us, in this avoidance, a misunderstood hindrance to an integrated ministry in the world. The sands of the Desert Tradition, through Introspection – a process of tilling and cultivation – manifest as the grounding soil, productive of constant growth within the inner foliage of the pilgrim. The inner pilgrim is, specifically, nourished by the introspective fruits of Solitude and Silence; for these are two of the most difficult fruits to cultivate as we examined them individually yesterday. Once Solitude and Silence are interiorized and surrendered to, the Desert Tradition may be contextualized through introspection in such a way that each of these aspects come to be understood altogether more expansively; and all the more relevant to apostolic ministry.

                It is important to note, having arrived at this point, that physical retreat does not necessarily denote solitude. Solitude is more than simply the state of being alone – rather is it an inner experience and consent to being alone. In this way, loneliness and isolation become solitude only insofar as they as they are processed as states which, through on-going transformation, become an abiding experience of tranquil aloneness. “Solitude is the furnace in which transformation takes place.”[1] To be alone in this sense, is to be alone with the self, to be alone with the growth and movement of the True Self, and thusly, to be alone in God. Solitude becomes then the interior deprivation of the false-self and the Garden in which the Lord of the Harvest cultivates within the soul the fruits of virtue. “It is the place of conversion, the place where the old self dies and the new self is born.”[2] Solitude is then both the interior landscape of the soul and the fruit borne of that landscape enabling the human person to be at peace with God alone. Time spent in the heart of the interior desert, therefore, gradually navigates spiritual consciousness into the secret garden of the Desert Tradition; the spiritual oasis of the desert pilgrimage.

                Given the sensory over-stimulation that is so dominant in our culture, the Desert Tradition encourages us also, within our soul-work, to graciously accept the gift of Silence. To retreat from the ordinary and to be alone with our deepest selves is also to uncover in the depths of our silence the Living Word. This interior silence was understood in the ancient tradition as a kind of participation in the Silence of God-self, who in Silence bore the Word. “The condition that served as a criterion of one’s docility in listening to the Word of God was measured by the Fathers [and Mothers] of the desert in terms of resting in the Lord or of quieting all inordinate desires.”[3]  The silence of the pilgrim, therefore, bore its own spiritual fruits (as in the Life of Anthony): “it happened that he would suddenly go quiet…..and after an interval of several hours he would continue with his answer: people understood from this that he had witnessed some secret revelation.”[4] God consoles us and heals the fragmentation of our hearts, broken by a lifetime of words, with the language of his Word: Silence. In a culture of words, we find in the depths of solitude a world-less peace that passes understanding and heals the wounds perpetuated by the language of hate that so often dominates our lives.

                The appropriation of these two aspects – Solitude and Silence – is the core of the movement of Introspection. Quite obviously, introspection, while the particular situation of ourselves on this day in the present series of reflections, is relevant to the whole of our lives and spirituality as recorded in traditions other than that of the Desert Fathers and Mothers too innumerable to count. This is the metanoia – the constant turning inward to the God of the Heart – that is the process of conversion without pause at the center of the spiritual life of the Christian Pilgrim. The wisdom of the Desert Tradition, as relates to this in a particular way, is helpful to us for it bears no ambiguity: the soul must wrestle within the human person in order to find rest; the desolation of the sands must precede the oasis of the Living Waters.

Suggested Spiritual Exercises:

The focal  point for us today could very well implicate nearly any form of spiritual discipline in its vastness. In the context of this Desert Journey, however, the following are recommended for this mid-point in our Advent-ure:

1.) Recognize and Interiorize: This day, in the sequence of the Five Days of the present series marks a substantial place, a “Mid-Point,” which in the Desert we may understand symbolically as high noon. The heat of the sun is upon our heads and, within this desert retreat, marks a place in which to “catch” some of the rays of this luminous point in the Journey [particularly in preparation for engaging the theme of Illumination in its fullness with tomorrow’s Reflection]. Recognition becomes interiorized with two aides already present at this point in our journey. Continued use of each of these is strongly recommended:

                a.) The Spiritual Journal: take note of the “high noon” of your desert experience in the written or

                    sketched form in your journal today. Notice any growth in perception, and more importantly

                    any interior movements or responses to engaging in the prayer form(s) of the desert 

                    underscored in yesterday’s Reflection/Exercises.

b.)     The Prayer of the Desert: do not simply take note of the experience of the prayer of

       Holy Silence; continue to engage it. Consider extending the ten minute period of rest in this

       Prayer to a slightly longer period – or – perhaps exercise this prayer form twice daily. Note

       The felt sense of God’s Presence or absence in this prayer form and ponder the

         prominent interior movements – whether graced or terribly frustrating – as relevant to

         the overall context of the inner desert and the Desert Tradition. Is there avoidance in

         this prayer form and if so, engage introspectively the nature of this avoidance or other

         mental/emotional responses to this form of praying.

2.) Anthony of the Desert was, by no means, the origin of the Desert Spirituality in Christian Tradition. Look to the most classic section of Sacred Scripture in which this form of Retreat

and Introspection are recounted in the life of Jesus, and sit reflectively with this text in the

space of your own desert retreat. Note the ways in which the language of the text may resonate in some ways with both your own understanding of the Desert Tradition and, moreover, of your experience of its directions. In what way(s) might these very familiar words read anew in the context of your own journey? Engage the Desert Christ with the words of his Holy Gospel:

Gospel: Mt 4:1-11

At that time Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert
to be tempted by the devil.
He fasted for forty days and forty nights,
and afterwards he was hungry.
The tempter approached and said to him,
“If you are the Son of God,
command that these stones become loaves of bread.”
He said in reply,
“It is written:
One does not live on bread alone,
but on every word that comes forth
from the mouth of God.”

Then the devil took him to the holy city,
and made him stand on the parapet of the temple,
and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.
For it is written:
He will command his angels concerning you
and with their hands they will support you,
lest you dash your foot against a stone.”
Jesus answered him,
“Again it is written,
You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.”
Then the devil took him up to a very high mountain,
and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in their magnificence,
and he said to him, "All these I shall give to you,
if you will prostrate yourself and worship me.”
At this, Jesus said to him,
“Get away, Satan!
It is written:
The Lord, your God, shall you worship
and him alone shall you serve.”
Then the devil left him and, behold,
angels came and ministered to him.

T.G.I.M?

Mondays Mornings and Grace

An Epiphany Reflection

Fr. Michael Abair, Jr.

 As I write, I lament those who sit awake at this hour dreading the dawn of another day: “UGH, Monday mornings,” I think captures the feeling for many in the world of nine-to-five. For those with whom these words do not resonate, consider yourselves blessed; finding joy in one’s work to the extent of looking forward to Mondays is a most precious grace.  

It has always been interesting to me, throughout the course of my own professional history, pondering the way in which the day most sacred in our Catholic Tradition precedes the most dreaded day of the week in the realm of the secular. All theological probing aside, my favorite Chinese food restaurant is even closed on Mondays! What then, in all seriousness, is the implication in this juxtaposition [contrast], if any at all?   I believe the Feast of the Epiphany, in the spiritual symbolism of this day and –more specifically- in the words of Sacred Scripture selected for this Monday morning proceeding it, sheds some light on the matter. In the spirit of the Epiphany, let us then examine the statement: Thank God it’s Monday – in a most prayerful way.  

We hear in the words of Saint John in his first Letter, a most reassuring message; moreover, an inspiring message accompanied by some very direct instructions as to the way we live our lives. The affirmation in the Reading is good news, indeed: 

Beloved:
We receive from him whatever we ask, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him.
And his commandment is this: we should believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and love one another just as he commanded us. Those who keep his commandments remain in him, and he in them, and the way we know that he remains in us is from the Spirit whom he gave us.

“We receive from him whatever we ask.” Uh-huh, right – that would be why I’m broke, can’t repair my car and have a perpetual splitting headache every morning I go to work; I think this prayer package was mis-addressed, Jesus. A blasphemous reaction to the words in John’s letter? Actually, quite to the contrary. This particular response – a brutally honest and frustrated one, to the extent that it is a sincere expression of frustration in prayer becomes what is termed a kind of “holy anger.” By “holy anger” I refer to the kind of anger that the Book of Psalms is filled with, a response amplified from the very heart of the human condition. The human person is created with emotion by God; were it not so, we would be little more than robots; incapable of being in true relationship with our Creator or within the human family. Sacred Scripture, nor Tradition encourage us to stifle that part of us which elicits, in one particular form, anger. As I often mention, one of the holiest Saints [and one of the few female Doctors of the Church – Theresa of Avila] was known to “tell God off.” Among the many stories of Theresa’s very personal relationship with Christ is one in which she, while traveling to a neighboring town, “breaks down” and with overturned carriage and mud-covered habit, looks to heaven and says: “You know what, if this is the way you treat your friends, its no wonder you have so few of them! Hmph!!!” Bringing our complete selves [the whole of our experience; the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between] into the Presence of God is the mark of metanoia – ever deepening conversion through self-disclosure. Disclose myself to God?-but he knows everything, where is the purpose in that? The purpose in prayer forms which essentially “lay it out” are to be found in their authenticity; in the purity that is a fruit of coming before God in moments of vulnerability. Liken to the peeling of an onion, the more sincere the self-disclosure, the fewer layers remain; layers of our own human creation which inhibit the transparency which God longs for in us.

 “……we should believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and love one another just as he commanded us.”

 Lets talk about love. It is the belief in the power of Jesus, the Christ, which catalyzes the transformation from the I-centered life to the Christ-Centered Life; manifest in the True Self and embodied in Love. Faith in Jesus, coupled with an extension of that faith in every area of our lives is the foundation for the second and third Theological Virtues: Hope and Love. In the end, the Christian life comes back from to its origin and its means of perfection to that most precious of Virtues: Love. Deus Caritas Est: God’s Very Self is Love, and Life – in all of it’s fullness – is an invitation to live in that Love: 

“…remain[ing] in him, and he in [Us], and the way we know that he remains in us is from the Spirit whom he gave us.  

Through the Holy Spirit, our lives are illuminated by the Light of the Holy of Holies and our hearts set aflame by the Paraclete of the Pentecost; but these are not words to simply “swallow,” nor to accept with disinterest and a disengaging  pious nod. The gifts of the Spirit are gratuitous and superabundant Gift; these are the Light of the Holy Trinity, whom we are called into communion with through Jesus Christ. This communion with the Holy is not a “given,” and it can never be as such. While the Holy Spirit is our “help,” to use a traditional phraseology, the Spirit is not an enablement of helplessness or laxity. The action of the human person, interiorly,  and by the works of mercy, which we are called upon to exercise in communion our sisters and brothers in the human family, is the response – given in free will – to the invitation of the Spirit to partake in these gifts.

 We are called to be a people who, in the words of this mornings Gospel reading:  “[having once sat]  in darkness,  have seen a great Light!   Dwelling in a land overshadowed by death, [rejoice that] Light has arisen!”

 This “land,” a symbol of human existence and the reality of the power of darkness present in our midst, is also a Dream of God being gradually realized through the ministry of his people. “Wake up!” and:

 “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand.”
These words, uttered nearly 2,000 years ago retain meaning for us today, this day, this MON-day morning. Every day is a call to repentance [evaluation of the movements of the spirit and a turning of self back to God when distracted] and, moreover, the Kingdom of Heaven does not rest upon the latest predictions from the very learned…cough….pardon I feel a cold coming on….authors of the “Left Behind” Series.” The Kingdom, fundamentally Mystery in it’s finality, in the present is a Living Reality of which we are each royal members. Royal, indeed; clothed in the spiritual garments of the Living God and embroidered by the Gifts of his Holy Spirit, we are a Christian People in a Kingdom of the Spirit; a Kingdom whose riches are a scandal to this world.

 Monday mornings are a part of our lives that are not omitted in our laboring together in the work of the Kingdom. The Living Dream of God, brought to partial realization through our faithfulness to it, will not impede that dreadful early morning alarm-clock either. What our lives as Living Members of the Body of Christ will implicate, to the degree to which we seek to fully embody our membership, is our experience of the “Monday mornings” in our lives in the Light of Christ.

 The Epiphany is not a “once and for all event.” It is a Feast calling us to perpetual adoration and assurance of  the nourishment of our souls through the Gifts of the Spirit of Light. Pray without ceasing, therefore, says Saint Paul – but how are we to understand this, how are we to live into these words – its Monday morning! Herein lies the challenge of the Christian life: the cultivation of the True Self in Christ Jesus and the growth in that Self.  Steadfastly faithful to this binding of our own hearts to God’s in the interior prayer of union is the call, amidst the darkness of this  world [in our own lives and in the lives to others] to be as agents of Light. It is no great spiritual feat to find contemplation and inner silence while on retreat, in personal prayer space or communal worship. Each of these – while both necessary and beautiful – are designed, specifically, to quiet to the mind and open the heart, which is prayer. The challenge is to be agents of the Light of Christ in areas in our lives which are the least conducive to spiritual growth. Moving into the Suggested Exercise Section, I conclude with mention of some of these challenges; each an opportunity for spiritual growth and contribution to that Most Holy Light, scattering the darkness of heart in the world we are called to love.

 ___________________________________________________________________________________

Suggested Spiritual Exercises:

 The objective of these exercises is what is most important, while the details are merely suggestive. Saint Ignatius Loyola’s Foundation in The Spiritual Exercises, speaks of a radical indifference which we find also in the works of St. John of the Cross and countless other mystics in Christian history [it happens I find the Ignatian articulation the most helpful]. This indifference is one in which there exists no preference in the soul for any one thing over another [riches over poverty, health over sickness, life over death, etc.] save that which seeks for the Greater Glory of God [Ad Maiorem Dei Gloria - for those unfamiliar with Jesuit terminology frequently utilized in Latin form]. In seeking only this one most precious end, our lives [with a “holy indifference”] become the means of attainment of this fundamental purpose; the whole of our lives- perpetual prayer and gifting of Self. As to those places in our lives in which we find it most difficult to act in such a way that increases faith, hope and love; it is here in which we must especially be present. The philosophy is not a sadistic one; rather, by situating ourselves with a singular spiritual intention in the darkest corners of our lives and in our world, we expand our own consciousness of God’s Presence in all things and the consciousness of others to this Reality. Ask yourself a few of the following questions: 

1.)    When was the last time you had a “felt-sense” of God’s Presence while waiting in line at the grocery store; more specifically with a woman in front of you with 5 screaming kids and about 500 coupons?

2.)    Have you recently been moved with compassion when someone cut you off on the road, raising a finger to you just to be sure you got the message?

3.)    If visited by a fanatical religious group at your door, a group personally offensive to you in some way in relation to a theological or social justice issue: would you consider inviting them into your home if you were certain there would be no physical danger present?

4.)    Finally: It’s Monday morning AGAIN – after a hectic weekend. You are feeling exhausted, cranky and anything but grateful for being woken up – when was the last time you opened your eyes on a Monday such as this in a spirit of gratitude for the gift of another day?

 I am about as far removed from sainthood as Rosie O’Donnell is from silence, I assure you. Rosie fans, if the analogy is problematic for you insert “New Kid’s on the Block” and “musical come-back”. But in all seriousness, these questions are not meant to be written down in a book and pondered over – they are meant to poignant questions about how far we are willing to take our faith in the form of probing questions. These can only be answered in the way we live our lives!  

Is it absolutely ridiculous to think of God’s Presence at the grocery store check-out line, in the midst of road rage, while visited by ignorance in a suit or jolted out of much needed rest by an alarm clock? YES, YES, and YES again. But there, in those very places, in the most difficult places,  is where the “holy foolishness” of the Christian faith may be uncovered and lived.  

Do you believe that the Maker of Heaven and Earth, in the Person of the Son, became incarnate as a human being to be a Savior for all people? Do you believe that this same Son was born of an unwed mother and was foster-fathered by a simple carpenter was God himself? Do you have faith in the Lamb of God who was himself nailed to planks of wood in a brutal and humiliating crucifixion by the Roman Government? Do you believe he rose from his death and is present eternally with his people in Word, Sacrament and Spirituality? Remove yourself for a moment from these questions and look at them as if this is the first time you’ve ever heard of the Christian Story and are asked if you believe these things once the story has been relayed: RIDICULOUS!  Almighty God becomes a little boy and saves the world by getting killed alongside every other man deemed dangerous by the Roman Government; he then rises again and is manifest in the words recounting his life and on a table in the forms of bread and wine , RIDICULOUS! Think about it the next time you gave upon the Crucified One; the profundity of it all, the Mystery.

Ridiculous? Indeed, it is. But at the heart of what is folly to the human mind is the Holy Paradox of which we are living members by virtue of Baptism and embodied faith. Take another look at those questions – or – better yet, come up with some of them on your own. Look to the ridiculous wedded to the holy on the Cross and ask yourself today: if the Center of my life turned everything meaningful in the eyes of the world upside down, how then can I take up my own Cross and follow him? How can I strive each day to be Church as opposed to “going to it.” How can each day be for my spirit an Epiphany; even Mondays.

The “Advent-ure” Continues

Spiritual Reflections + Pilgrim Sanctuary, 2008

Father Michael Abair, Jr.

The season of Advent, with its anticipatory character and climactic close in marking the Nativity of Our Lord, seems to have all but vanished as I gaze upon the neighborhood. The eagerness to take down anything celebrating “Christmas,” in sacred, or secular, form I believe speaks of many things in American culture. I would be remiss not to mention that I am thrilled my next door neighbor has finally surrendered to the fact that “mobile lighted deer figurines,” are, in fact, seasonal. “But we have deer all year long,” has been the message for about five years, now!

 On a far more purposeful note, “Advent,” while closing in the Church Calendar just prior to the Feast of the Nativity on the 25^th, speaks of many things which are relevant without reference to a human “time line” at all; Advent is a suspension of time and space in “kairos,” the Greek term meaning, in essence, “God’s time.” We enter into the Season in anticipation of the manifestation of the Christ in the marking of his birth. This particular manifestation, the Incarnation, gives us great reason for rejoicing. Moreover, the term speaks of a far more expansive, in fact -  Infinite- Reality calling us to joy and thanksgiving manifold, as the Incarnation of the Christ is supernatural to the measurement of human instruments.

 I recall the  bumper sticker placed upon the truck of my Confirmation Sponsor [my how the time passes!] which remains since I was a boy of 14. It reads: “Jesus is coming, look busy.” Other than a chuckle, there is a very subtle truth contained in these words. On days in which I find myself all wrapped up in “me,” I fail to be present to the One in whose Most Holy Name I minister as priest and spiritual director. Were I in the business of designing theological “bumper-stickers,” I might slightly adjust the one mentioned. In three parts, the simple phraseology can be broken down in a contemplative reflection:

 1.)      Jesus is Coming: Indeed, Jesus, the Holy Word has been coming into the midst of matter from the origins of Creation and into the immediacy of this very moment. In his manifestation historically, Jesus, in physical form, after his passion, death and Resurrection,  ascended into the Mystery of the Bosom of the Trinity. He does not, however, cease to come to us perpetually. He comes to us –as his Church - on the most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, in the proclamation of his Holy Gospel and in the hearts of we, who are his faithful people. His perpetual procession from the Holy Trinity is a living and un-ending gifting of himself to the human family. The awe-some reality of his presence enwrapping us into his Mystical Body, however, is realized only to the degree we give pause and are present to it. Working together to carry his Spirit unto the ends of the earth – we increasingly come to understand that he is already with us, and more deeply, within us; in the very core of our hearts – we have only to:

2.)      Look [for him in all things]: The Prologue of the Gospel of St. John the Evangelist, coupled with the words of two of the greatest theologians in the history of Catholic Christendom, render a very clear theology of what it means to “look” for Christ. Saint Thomas Aquinas makes clear reference to the two principle sources of Revelation: the Sacred Scriptures and the Book of Life [i.e. God in the immediacy of human experience in the natural world]. Saint Ignatius Loyola invites the faithful, in similar matter,  to “Seek God in All Things.” In this way, all that has come forth from the Word during the Advent of Creation, marks all matter as Christic [bearing the mark of the Christ]. He was in the beginning the “brush” of the Father, painting with the “vibrant hues” of the Holy Spirit what we experience as life. In this holy mystery, we come to understand the Son much more expansively: in such a way that All That Is becomes an invitation for us to pierce through any illusory veil that that would seek to separate the Christ from Creation. We have only to look: in the beauty of Creation, in the elements of the Universe and – most especially – in the depths of the human heart in which we are imago dei  [created in God’s image and likeness] to be met by the Lord who is, in fact, the One always seeking us!

3.)     And keep busy [in accordance with the Holy Dream of the Kingdom]: It is lamentable to really ponder the reality of a popular apocalyptic which exists so counter-productively to the injunction of the Holy Gospels. Indeed, He will come  again; but are we to sit on our couches with the Book of Revelation open so as to insure we are not “Left Behind?” I think not; in fact, I pray for those souls who have already placed themselves far behind the Good News of Jesus Christ. Christ will -and continues to- come again: radiantly alive in the hearts of his faithful people; carrying the message of Love Incarnate unto the ends of the earth. Bearing this Good News is what I believe busyness means in the core of the Christian life. As to that “final coming in glory,” we surrender to the Mystery of what are understood as the “last days,” for our human minds cannot contain the Numinous; the Parousia [trans. “end times/last days” from the Greek] of which neither day, hour nor form are known. This ignorance, however, holds a message within itself.  Rather than becoming lax in what we cannot fully “know,” we are called, instead, to make ready the human family until the Final Dream of God’s very self is fully realized. Every moment of our live is an invitation to response in being the living “means” directed towards the “Holy End,” even while we cannot fully grasp what this “End” will mean.   

The “Advent-ure” of the Christian Life is Infinite; Holy Invitation and Gift of Transformation.: personal, ecclesial and global. What an adventure it is, truly! Ups and downs, moments of lapse in faith, hope and love, each of these – by the very fact that they are of concern to us – speak to a commitment to embody within the Reformed Catholic Church, a living and superabundantly gifted Body, the very best of who we are in:

                                        The Most Holy Name of Jesus.  

Marking this Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus [traditionally January 3^rd], now omitted from the General Roman Calendar, encapsulates in but one word the primary purpose of our lives: Jesus. Our beloved Lord, perpetually incarnate and drawing all things into himself, in Love, is Life Itself.

 I can think of no better way to in which to resume a Spiritual Reflection Series for the year 2008 than in the spirit, and, on the Feast marking this Most Holy Name in which we gather in common with sisters and brothers all over the world transformed by the power of the Living Word.

 Suggested Spiritual Exercise

 I have a particular affinity with this day, marking the Holy Name. This relates to a primary devotional in my spiritual discipline in what is commonly known as the “Jesus Prayer.” An ancient and uncomplicated prayer form originates – and maintains centrality – in the monastic tradition of the East.  The simplicity of the prayer form is the true mark of its profundity. One Name, one Most Holy Name: Jesus. The practice of the Jesus prayer is a contemplative discipline  intended to catalyze the interior movements of the spirit in such a way that the Holy Name becomes imbedded – permanently – upon the human heart; ever present and ever powerful.

 There are multiple variations of this prayer, with a number of added elements to its purest form [which is simply: Jesus]. These, in the writings of the ancients [a series of Mystical Theology of the East known as the Philokalia contain most of what is drawn from in application of the prayer] are inclusive of posture and breath directives.

 Frequent reference is also made to the “Jesus Prayer,” as bearing yogic qualities of the Hindu East [I have MUCH to say in this regard, but will not digress]. All of these things are most fascinating to me; but most fascinating of all is the grace present in the simple recitation of the Holy Name. The directives for this exercise may be followed as indicated below:

 N.B. that the following form may always be substituted with the simplistic recitation of the Holy Name without any other aspect being necessary; these instructions are based on what holy men and women have found to be most helpful in this discipline throughout the ages:

 1.)      Find a suitable location in which to situate the body in a seated position with the spine erect [chair or cross legged positions on the floor are the options here].

2.)      This space should be a place of spiritual significance for the pray-er and must be a place of silence where the prayer may be exercised undisturbed.

3.)      Situating oneself in the position and place most conducive to this form of contemplative prayer begins the actual practice:

a.        Limit inhalation and exhalation to the nasal passages only if possible.

b.       With each inhalation, internally gather your consciousness and direct it to the Most Holy Name [there are no visualizations, etc. necessary in this practice – simply an internal recitation of the Prayer].

c.        If working with the body/ breath in a more specific manner: consider one of the following “Jesus prayers” which may correlate with breath patterns:

i. “Jesus, Mercy,”

*ii. “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have Mercy on me, a sinner,” iii. “Jesus, I trust in you,”

These are among the most frequently used variations [specifically the longest* in the second form,  which is employed most widely in this application today.

d. Body Consciousness: The “Jesus Prayer” is also frequently referred to as “the Prayer of the Heart.” This relates, in part,  to the physical positioning of the body during the recitation of the prayer. The “heart,” in this context refers to the center of affectivity in the mid-chest. Practitioners of this prayer form make specific reference to the direction of body consciousness projected into this location in the body; corresponding with the interior recitation and rhythm of breath.  

That We All May be One

A MOST Timely Reflection on Interfaith Theory and Praxis

Father Michael Abair, Jr.

More than forty years have passed since these prophetic words appeared in the Declaration of the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions of the Second Vatican Council in the Roman Church; words more relevant today than perhaps ever before in the history of the Christian Tradition:

Religions found everywhere try to counter the restlessness of the human heart, each in it’s own manner, by proposing “ways,” comprising teachings, rules of life and sacred rites. The Catholic Church rejects nothing that is true and holy in these religions. She regards with sincere reverence those ways of conduct and of life, those precepts and teachings which, though differing in many aspects from the ones she holds and sets forth, nonetheless often reflect a ray of that Truth which enlightens all men.

Over the course of the past several days, the People of God, collectively, lay witness to the horrific atrocities we are experiencing internationally; blasphemously, each in some measure “in the name of God.” The first of the news to “hit me,” on the 26^th was that of the desecration of 9 sites of Christian worship by Hindu extremists. I gather we can all relate to looking at the day after Christmas as a prayerful rest after an arduous week of ministry; upon receipt of this email, however, and more than an dozen phone calls with regard to this news, it became quite clear this would not be a day of rest for me.

               As to a bit of personal background relevant to this piece: for those unaware, my studies are rooted specifically in two distinct areas academically: the first of these, primarily pastoral, is Spiritual Direction; the second, rigorously theological, is contained very specifically in my focus on Inter-faith theory and praxis: my work pertains most specifically to Hindu/Christian relations.

               Following the completion of my program of studies in this area and ordination into the Reformed Catholic Church, I was most eager in seeking out areas in which I can wed the academic to the pastoral and be a witness of the Catholic faith to our Hindu sisters and brothers. This had begun some time ago in the form of regular speaking events at the local Hindu Temple in Southern, N.J., and has blossomed into a beautiful friendship between myself and the Community where I am honored to be a frequent guest.

               It was only weeks ago that Burlington County of N.J. finally approved of the building of a Hindu Cultural Center; a vision I have been joint-advocate of since its preliminary planning stages years ago. Plainly said: Hindus have no aversion to Jesus. Quite to the contrary, with each visitation, we deepen our bonds of fellowship and solidarity as members of the human family and children of the Holy. The 26^th was, therefore, a day spent trying to calm the minds and hearts of the Brahmin of the Temple and the Community; rightfully anxious as to what impact this “Hindu extremism” internationally might have on what has finally been approved by the County as the Hindu Cultural Center, to open January 17^th.

               I left my dear friends that evening without an overly serious concern over  the extremist rage of New Delhi marring the good people of Southern, N.J. and returned home after a long day to further reflect upon the matter. “Hindu” and “Terrorist” are simply oxymoronic; the entirety of the tradition is rooted in Ahimsa; Sanskrit for non-violence. “Extremist” was the obvious mis-placed variable in the equation; I only prayed the words of the Tradition would continue to speak for its people in painting these extremists as rendering blasphemous the very foundation of the Hindu faith.          With some peace on “the Pilgrim’s porch,” I resumed evening work for the Newspaper only to be met with the latest news of the day: Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan had been assassinated with pieces already being put together tying the killing to Muslim extremists. As of 17 minutes ago [it is now 2:33 a.m. on December 29 and I’m keeping with the news in between sections in this article] her death has been confirmed as a “skull fracture” caused by the impact of the suicide bomb blast of the al-Qaida. Needless to say, on the evening of the 26^th and into the morning of the next day, I was unable to sleep. The antidote to this restlessness is what you are reading; something planned for this edition of the Newspaper already – but certainly not predicted as being so very necessary during a time like this.

               The 27^th brought a series of “updates” as to the assassination and I began the constructs of this article in light of what was becoming clear enough: regardless of details, a second and most devastating act committed “in the name of God” had been committed. It is the nature of this poisonous “God-image” among extremists which I wish to address in the contents of this reflection; encouraging all RCC clergy to unite with our Hindu and Muslim sisters and brothers for whom these heinous acts are absolutely unthinkable [their potential implications in the U.S. and beyond – however – are issues non-Christians are doing much worrisome thinking about in light of these catastrophes]. 

               This morning I awoke to the third aspect in a most unholy trinity of terror; and this incident is one stemming from our own Christian Tradition. As reported in the Jerusalem Post:

Robed Greek Orthodox and Armenian priests went at each other with brooms and stones inside the Church of the Nativity on Thursday as long-standing rivalries erupted in violence during holiday cleaning.
The basilica, built over the grotto in Bethlehem where Christians believe Jesus was born, is administered jointly by Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox and Armenian Apostolic authorities. Any perceived encroachment on one group's turf can set off vicious feuds.
On Thursday, dozens of priests and cleaners came to the fortress-like church to scrub and sweep the floors, walls and rafters ahead of the Armenian and Orthodox Christmas, celebrated in the first week of January. Thousands of tourists visited the church this week for Christmas celebrations.
But the cleanup turned ugly after some of the Orthodox faithful stepped inside the Armenian church's section, touching off a scuffle between about 50 Greek Orthodox and 30 Armenians.
Palestinian police, armed with batons and shields, quickly formed a human cordon to separate the two sides so the cleaning could continue, then ordered an Associated Press photographer out of the church.
Four people, some with blood running from their faces, were slightly wounded.

               Preparation for Christmas ignites a riot of 80 priests? Is this a form of Advent I’ve not been made aware of? Jesus wept, I said to myself; a phrase I frequently employ. When we are unable to be at peace with one another even within our own Tradition, to the point of violent “medieval style” duels “preparing the way for the Lord [?]” I do believe its MOST timely to take a much needed interior inventory and reflect on the way in which inter-faith theory and praxis have, and, when exercised in forms proven effective, may continue to contribute to that “peace which passes understanding.” In the name of the Prince of that Peace as held within our Tradition, I pray a reflection of this nature will open our eyes, inflame our hearts, and lift our spirits to respond as a Family in Faith to these most relevant issues facing the RCC and each of our sister Churches. Let us examine some of the implications of the interfaith dynamics of which I speak:

{Post Vatican II}

The countless fruits of inter-religious dialogue speak profoundly to a shared wisdom that is embodied in the many expressions of religious experience. As a result of the encouragement of the Council and the cultural climate of the late 1960’s and 1970’s, many within the Church began to enter into prayerful dialogue with non-Christian traditions and the richness of these encounters continue to produce an ever-growing body of literature, ecumenical projects directed at addressing issues of social justice and an articulation of a theology of religious pluralism. A great number theologians and leaders within the Christian community have, with great openness and reverence for those outside of the tradition of the Church, sought to share the teachings of the Gospel in light of this conciliar teaching by way of an inculturation* that is consciously present to the “ray of Truth” the Church holds as “reflected” in the spiritual traditions of non-Christians.

               This contemporary application of Nostra Aetate’s {document cited at beginning of article} teachings seems to both to confirm the affirmation of the Council in recognizing the Spirit in non-Christian contexts, and, I would propose, suggests an altogether more reciprocal dynamic of grace stemming from this exchange. On the one hand, through the sharing of the Christian faith in dialogue with non-Christian religions, we find that the message of Christ is received by our non-Christian sisters and brothers with greater receptivity in light of a less forced approach; embodied as a gifting of *our own experience of God within the context of the culture of the non-Christian. Secondly, and I will underscore this aspect, by engaging in a dialogical model of inter-religious exchange that is inclusive of shared discipline, we are humbled through our exchange with the other. This humility is present in the opening of our hearts to the presence of God already well at work in the religious experience of the non-Christian.  To share the Christian faith in this way is to offer the gifts of our life in Christ to the other while simultaneously being enriched in our own faith experience. We may speak of this enrichment as the gift of seeing the ways in which God is experienced uniquely in the graced religious traditions of the world outside of the Catholic Church (and Christian Churches in general more broadly). Reading on, per the late Roman Pontiff, this is NOT heresy in the Catholic Tradition (Roman or otherwise).

                “One wonders if [the late] John Paul II hadn’t actually modeled this. In describing his Assisi Day of Prayer in 1997 to the Cardinals in the Curia and in a later speech he gave in India, he asserted that there are insights in other religions that have been revealed by God that have not been revealed to Christianity,” writes Fr. Peter Feldmeier in his Christianity Looks East [a 2007 Paulist Publication]. At the core of his thought and of this position, which I personally advocate, is the acknowledgement of a  wisdom present within the non-Christian faiths that continues to speak deeply to the Christian experience and draws us into a deeper reverence for the One in whom there is no separation. To perceive the “ray of Truth” present in the non-Christian religious experience, through dialogue and shared reflection, becomes an invitation to a more expansive perception in which the Truth of our own Christian faith is appropriated more universally [thereby being more fully “catholic”]. We enter into a true catholicity embodied in the Spirit of Christ as experienced and manifest in every shade and hue in the spectrum of cosmological history and human experience. The late theological genius, Karl Rahner, S.J., elucidates the matter with precision in his classic (2005 Crossroads Edition of) Foundations of Christian Faith:

Christ is present and operative in non-Christian believers and hence in non-Christian religions, in and through his Spirit. This proposition is to be taken for granted in dogmatic theology. If there can be a faith which is creative of

salvation among non-Christians, and if it may be hoped for that in fact it is found on a large scale, then it is to be taken granted for that this faith is made possible and is based on the supernatural grace of the Spirit. And this is the Spirit who proceeds from the Father and the Son, so that as the spirit of the eternal Logos, he can and must in this sense be the spirit of the divine Word who has become man.

               I would suggest that in light of the contemporary Christian experience of dialogue with non-Christian religions, a more apt articulation of this exchange today surpasses that of a respectful appreciation for the other. The “ray of Truth” that is perceived in the faith of the non-Christian, through an exchange that dares to move beyond dialogue into shared experience, is transforming the way in which we understand and embody our relationship to non-Christians. The sharing of experience becomes for the Christian community an invitation to encounter, in the mutuality of our exchange, a gift of God directing our theological discourse into the deeper meeting place of our human hearts. Jesuit expert in the field of theological pluralism, Jacques Dupuis summarizes the core of the inter-religious encounter with clarity in this way in his Who Do You Say that I am? (Crossroads 1994 Edition):

The real question [becomes] that of the relationships of the religious traditions of humankind to the primordial mystery of Jesus Christ [to the Christ who is both Pre-Eternal Word/Logos and the historical Jesus of Nazareth], the foundation of faith – not of their relation to the mystery of the Church, which is itself a derived truth. It is therefore a question of an ecclesiological de-centering and a Christological re-centering of the theology of religions.

               This  underscores what has been called a christologically inclusive model of inter-religious exchange, a model which, in the words of Fr. Rodger Haight’s Jesus – Symbol of God (a 2005 Orbis Publication): “while being necessarily ‘confessional,’ a Christian theology  [which] need not, or for that matter cannot, be insular or parochial. For the opposite is true: a Christian theology of religions must adopt a global perspective which embraces in its vision the entirety of humankind.” Indeed, there we are once more directed: to the Center, to the Christ. It is in this One, and in this One alone, in Whom the many may gather and be touched by his Spirit. The aforementioned “theory,” is clear enough; what is truly important is the praxis. What does this mean for us as clergy of the Reformed Catholic Church? I preface a few words in response by encouraging you to ask yourselves this very question.

               Interfaith praxis is what I call intersprituality: a coming together of many in the Spirit of One. Along with Rahner and those who follow his argumentation, this One is the Christ, whether explicitly acknowledged as such or not, by the non-Christian. Shared spiritual discipline, therefore, becomes far less about “words” and more about Silence and Action. In the silence of prayer wherein, as the Anglican Book of Common Prayer states: all hearts are open, all desires known and no secrets are hidden, the Holy becomes present to us in the Mystery of the Language of Silence. It is in this manner that we may come to feel, affectively, in the very depths of our hearts, a solidarity that supersedes the spoken word altogether.

               As to the second aspect in interspiritual praxis are those actions which stem from Holy Silence; actions on behalf of the human community and in the Spirit of the Holy Whom – while understood differently- we share an understanding of as the Author of Peace. Humanitarian joint-efforts among our Traditions are a way to make concrete the fruit of the Spirit in Whom we see the other as sister and brother. NOW, most especially in the wake of recent current events, is the time in which to prayerfully examine what interfaith dialogue and interspiritual praxis might mean for your RCC Community. Just this evening, a fellow clergy member, listening to me speak about these very issues, came forth with a very simple but powerful way in which his faith community could seek to reach out: “I think we’ll draft a letter of introduction to the local non-Christian faith communities,” he stated. “A letter of hospitality and assurance of prayers or any more concrete needs that we may be helpful in addressing, particularly to our Muslim brothers and sisters,” he continued. Helpful? No question. Prophetic? Listen to the words of the first ecumenist in Christian history to extend the Peace of Christ to the People of Islam and I invite you to decide for yourselves:

Preach at all times, and, when necessary, use words ~ St. Francis of Assisi, 12^th Century