Friday, 26 August 2016

YOUR GATE STANDS OPEN


Glencairn Abbey
Gates fascinate me. There is something in them like a calling. A thrill runs through my whole being in attentive moments when I'm alert and pass by a gate. It reminds me of the Song of Songs when the Beloved comes to the garden gate - "...my heart was thrilled within me." (Songs 5:4)

It's as if every ordinary gate is a prophecy of THE Gate that I must pass through.



This morning as I was walking towards the sea I felt the sensation, the thrill as I passed by a particular gate and I found myself asking God for THE Gate, to bring me to it. I don't know what THE Gate is or what it really means in concrete reality. I could guess but I don't know how or when it will reveal itself.


Anyway when I got back in home I picked up the Magnificat for morning prayer and was surprised, astonished to read all of the following which I find very consoling:

Today your gate stands open,
And all who enter in
Shall find a Father's welcome
And pardon for their sin.
The past shall be forgotten,
A present joy be given,
A future home be promised,
A glorious crown in heav'n.

O all-embracing Mercy,
O ever-open Door,
What would I do without you
Who lead the way before?
When joy seems all too distant,
And all too near, despair,
I know one gate is open,
One ear will hear my pray'r.

I am the gate. Anyone who enters through me will be safe, and will come in and go out freely and be sure of finding pasture. (John 10:9)

The gate to the sheepfold is narrow and cut in the shape of a crosss. Yet Christ leads the flock safely through to the place of pasture he has prepared for us. (Magnificat)


“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy[a] that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. 14 For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it." (Matthew 7:13-14)

I have opened in front of you a door that nobody will be able to close (Rev 3:8)

O Lord, your Cross is the gate to the heavenly city. Give us  the courage to follow you throught it today. Open your way before us as we set out on this day's journey and guide us to our journey's end, that, when evening comes we may enter the courts of your presence rejoicing, who live and reigh with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen





Home Alone



I can get up at eight
And not be late

If I stay in bed
Till ten or twelve

And I can meditate
Whenever the Spirit
Moves me

The Truth That Sets Us Free

I do not want
To empathize

With lies

To be sucked
Into false emotion

However sad

It is wasted
Energy

Draining the age
That is left to us

We're too old
For that now

Almost too late

For you to shed
The disguise

But we have to
Hope in the Truth

That sets us free

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

AND SO I FOUND MYSELF IMMERSED


Immersed In Mercy

During a retreat in the Camaldolese monastery near Frascati in 1839 St. Vincent Pallotti wrote that he was in extreme need of what he calls an “infinite deluge of divine mercy” and he says “I found myself immersed in an immense sea of divine Mercy”. The need and the experience of Mercy was vast and abundant. To describe God Pallotti uses words such as infinite, immeasurable, incomprehensible. God is immense, infinite, immeasurable and incomprehensible Mercy.

They are powerful images – being washed in the deluge, being immersed in the sea and finding oneself. It is when I am so overwhelmed, immersed in God that I find my true self, who I truly am and who I am called to become. What matters in this immersion is that I become an altogether new creation (Galations 6:15). It matters that I keep striving for this and not settle for less.

I love to stand on a cliff on Inis Mor in the Aran Islands and look out at the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. It reminds me of God, the Mercy of God and even as I gaze at it in wonder I know that this ocean is tiny when compared with the reality of God, the Mercy of God. But it is a good reminder.

There’s an image of myself that emerged in me a few years back and it has returned to me again recently. It’s the image of a whale – that I am a whale that needs the vast expanse of sea in order to survive. But often I find that in reality I’m a whale in a fish tank with not enough room to breathe or move or to be who I am meant to be.

The fish tank is the trivial that occupies too much space in my head, the futile stuff that I waste time with, my own self-indulgence and it is the neediness that cannot be satisfied which drains me of all energy. The ocean is the need of those who really suffer and I have little difficulty being immersed in their reality. Mercy demands that I shake off the former in order to attend to the latter.

The Mercy of God is big hearted and incredibly generous. If we only knew what God is offering, if we only knew who God really is! If only we would allow ourselves spiritually to go down into the waters of the Jordan, the waters in baptism, to go down in Christ, immersed with Him and in Him. Emerge from it in Him!

Vincent Pallotti says that everything God does is merciful, everything He is is merciful. Mercy is God’s very essence, God’s very self. Jesus is Mercy in essence. And when we are immersed in Him then everything we experience in life becomes mercy – even when it doesn’t seem like it, even when we don’t understand it in that way.

And it is by immersion in the infinite sea of divine Mercy that the question is asked and answered, “Who are you O God?” God reveals, unfolds His true nature to us. Our capacity to receive the fullness of God is always limited but it is important that we come discover who God is in truth, that we are not living with false ideas or shadows of who He is.

In discovering who God is then I am called to become like Him, to become Godly, to be shaped by my experience and knowledge of God.

Too often we are shaped by our false images of God. A young man I knew once would only accept Jesus cleansing the Temple. That was his image of God – an angry Jesus lashing out with a whip, turning over tables – and this guy was himself very angry and bitter even in his demeanour.

Something that happened me emotionally as a child was that I discovered how to be afraid of God and I lived with that fear for many years until, as a young priest in Tanzania, I made a decision in prayer to commit myself to Jesus and to the truth about God that He revealed. I had the mental understanding of God as loving and compassionate but at a felt level a fear lurked. Not the reverential fear of the Bible. I was afraid of Him.

The Mercy of God revealed in and experienced through Jesus – this is what I believe and accept. And I’ve been growing in that over the years since – hopefully giving witness to the God of tenderness and compassion, letting go of my fearsome feeling about God. In Jesus the fullness of divinity lives (Colossians 2:9); He is the definitive expression of who God is and all fullness is to be found in Him (Colossians 1:19).

Rechem, Womb, Hesed

The Bible defines Mercy as 'rechem' which is a mother’s womb, indicating that God’s instinct is like that of a mother for the child in her womb, though God’s instinct is of course infinitely greater and all perfect.

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, or lack compassion for the child of her womb? Even if these forget, yet I will not forget you.” (Isaiah 49:15)

Another word for Mercy is 'hesed' which expresses the tender, faithful, loyal, dedicated love and compassion of God for His people such as is found in the marriage covenant between a husband and wife; the love that a parent feels for their child.

“I drew them to me with affection and love. I picked them up and held them to my cheek; I bent down to them and fed them” (Hosea 11:4)

Beautiful and powerful images. And the invitation to us is to rest in the embrace of God “as a child at rest in its mother’s arms” (Psalm 130) – a soul content and at peace.


In February this year I got to know a young family in Shankill through traumatic circumstances. Word came to us that four year old Sophie was critically ill in hospital having suffered some kind of bleed in her brain. So we prayed and prayed, the whole parish prayed and then she died and it was harrowing. Then two months later their two year old Heidi became ill, was on life support and we prayed and prayed again. It was just unthinkable. And then she also died.

Naturally there were questions asked about God and I had no answer, only silence. For me it was the silence of a dagger embedded in my breast – a description I first became aware of about 15 years ago in the book ‘Yosl Rakover Talks to God’ By ZVI KOLITZ which tells the story of Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto during the German occupation of Poland in 1943.

He compares his experience of God in that situation to a dagger embedded in his breast which he could not remove, indicating that, though he would like to be free of God, he cannot escape Him. It expresses how I feel following the deaths of the two little girls, except that I’m not trying to escape God but my understanding of Him has altered, my resting in His arms is not as peaceful or childlike. I am like Jacob wrestling (Genesis 32:22-32). It’s like I don’t know Him as I once did and have to learn again who He is.

Labour

My question is where does this kind of experience fit in with Mercy and what does it say about Mercy?

Motherhood again holds the answer. The pain of labour also tells us something about the reality of Mercy – that it involves suffering. A friend of mine described her experience of being in labour for 20 hours, reminding me that in delivering Mercy God enters into birth pangs, that the cross of Jesus is the womb that gives birth to the new People of God. The tomb becomes the womb from which new life emerges.

So if we are looking for an authentic experience of Mercy then we have to become the Mercy that we have experienced in all its tenderness, the Mercy that experiences labour pains of giving birth in spirit. Many of us simply want a soft, consoling Mercy that involves no pain on our part. But, as the old song says, “if you will not bear the cross you can't wear the crown.”

This is the consequence of being immersed in the sea of divine Mercy. The ultimate consequence is that through the labour pains of Mercy, through the suffering that visits us we are identified with God through Jesus in His agony, humiliating trial, abandonment and death and ultimately identified with the transforming power of the resurrection.

SONG FOR A GIRL


HEIDI








Sunday, 26 June 2016

FISH TANK

I am a whale
In a fish tank

No room to move
Not able to breathe
No means of escape

Prisoner to your desire
To possess

And you think
It's quite acceptable

Not having the sense
To know that

If you cling to me
You will lose me

If you let me go
There's a chance
That I'll remain