Jesus Washes Feet of Disciples So, during supper,
fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power
and that he had come from God and was returning to God,
he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin
and began to wash the disciples’ feet
and dry them with the towel around his waist.

I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”
Jn 13, 2-5;15

Holy Thursday was a beautiful day here, sunny and cool. I spent part of it with a friend at her home in the country. We took a walk and drank in birdsong, blooms, and buds ready to unfurl. Then we shared a simple meal, breaking bread and remembering the meal Jesus shared with his followers before his death.

As we ate, the sun shimmered on a pond not far from our table. What glorious Love surrounds us in creation. That the maker of all this beauty shares Divine life and glory with us is unimaginable. That God is willing to serve, to “wash our feet,” is even more so. Yet, that is what Jesus did, setting the example for all who follow him.

I watched the news this evening and reflect on the time spent with my friend, with the peace and joy that nourished my spirit as we ate together and spoke of God’s loving Presence. That quiet day was a gift to me, but on the television screen, I saw a world in turmoil. People are dying in their attempts to end repressive regimes; people are suffer from too much rain and from too little. War, hatred, anger, fear are the daily fare of many.

Why do I have a day of renewal, friendship, and peace while others suffer? A mystery. A gift. But not for me alone. Those of us who have plenty are called to give much. I don’t know how this looks exactly. How sufferings “even out” or if they do. Why some people are born in places of constant strife and violence and why others are not. I don’t know why some have heavy burdens to carry and others seem to glide though life in a charmed way.

I don’t know how my small efforts during a day make a difference to anyone, or how an act of kindness could chip away at suffering anywhere else. I cannot make sense of the big picture. Jesus knew it, as the gospel reading says. He knew who he was and what he was about, even if he didn’t know all the details.

I choose to trust him, the God who washes dirty feet. I choose to believe that however I can help another, however I can serve will make some difference. I leave our Servant=God to take care of the details.

PHOTO: Mary van Balen Here is my servant whom I uphold,
my chosen one with whom I am pleased,
Upon whom I have put my Spirit;
he shall bring forth justice to the nations,
Not crying out, not shouting,
not making his voice heard in the street.
A bruised reed he shall not break,
and a smoldering wick he shall not quench,
Until he establishes justice on the earth;
the coastlands will wait for his teaching.

Thus says God, the LORD,
who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spreads out the earth with its crops,
Who gives breath to its people
and spirit to those who walk on it:
I, the LORD, have called you for the victory of justice,
I have grasped you by the hand;
I formed you, and set you
as a covenant of the people,
a light for the nations,
To open the eyes of the blind,
to bring out prisoners from confinement,
and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.
Is 47,1-7

Today’s first reading eloquently describes the one sent by God to bring justice to the world. The images of gentleness come to mind when I watch a candle holding on to a wavering flame or carefully remove a bent flower stem and preserve the bloom by placing its shortened stalk into a tiny vase of water.

Isaiah does not reveal a blustery savior but one who is self effacing. Verses 6-7 describe the God who sent the Servant in an equally compassionate way: This is the One who created the earth, filled it with crops, and inspirited the people who populate it. This is a God concerned about the poor, the imprisoned, the sick. This is our God, pained by injustice.

As I read this passage today, I lingered over the line “I have grasped you by the hand…” Our God does not send us out alone to bring peace and light to the world. The Compassionate One does not make anyone a “covenant” and then leave him or her alone to do the job.

No. God grasps us by the hand and shows us the way. God walks with us.

That brings comfort to my soul. In the midst of a world at war with itself, a nation considering “quenching embers” and “bruising reeds” with budget cuts that increase injustice to the vulnerable among us,a time of fear and doubt, I will cling to the hand that grasps my own.

Jesus did that, becoming Covenant to us all. But after his death and resurrection, he made us part of that covenant; his work became our work; his call, our call.

I have no delusions about my abilities to do my part. But with God reaching out and holding on to me, even when I falter, even when weakness and fear make my fingers loosen, God’s grip is firm. Compassion will not let go.

In today’s online New York Times, columnist David Brooks wrote about Poetry in Everyday Life,” an interesting reflection on the use of metaphor to “capture what is going on.” I am in favor of metaphors. Of poetry, too. However, the new translation of the Roman Missal may be, shall I say, “throwing the baby out with the bath water.”

In the same NYT edition, an unrelated article questions about the new translation are raised by priests around the globe. For New Mass, Closer to Latin, Critics Voice a Plain Objection.”raises questions about what some proponents claim is a more poetic translation, one literally faithful to the older Latin Mass. Metaphors are indispensable, frequently used when human beings grapple with the Divine, but they must connect with those who read or hear them, and they must make sense in today’s world.
As a sometimes teacher of writing, I have plenty of experience with young children peppering paragraphs (oh, there’s a metaphor for you…you know, “spicing it up”) with meaningless comparisons because their teachers required them to use metaphors. I am not saying that the New Missal uses language the same way, but as i read objections by those whose jobs include celebrating the Mass, catechizing parishioners, or even working on the translation committee, I question the wisdom of this translation.

Take for example, Fr. Anthony Ruff, a Benedictine monk from Saint John’s Abbey in Collegeville, Minnesota and a professor of liturgy. According to the article, Fr. Ruff, who was head of the music committee of the international commission working on the translation, was removed from his position after he posted negative comments about the translation on his blog. He has written an open letter to the American bishops saying he cannot present scheduled parish programs introducing the new translation because he cannot support it.

I throw my support to the petition begun by Rev. Michael Ryan, pastor of St. James Cathedral in Seattle, asking the bishops to delay the introduction of the New Missal. Months ago I signed the petition aptly titled “What If We Just Said Wait.” A new translation does not have to be a negative thing, but it will be if not done in a way that enhances participation and understanding of those participating in worship at Mass.

As stated at the beginning of this post, I am all for metaphorical language used to express belief and experience of the Sacred in our midst. Poetic language can acknowledge the mystery and holiness of what we are about, but not if the language, sentence structure, and grammar leave parishioners wondering what they just said.

In the article, Fr. Ruff stated that he saw the need for a new translation, “more beautiful and more accurate,” but one that is done well. Sounds like Fr. Ryan had a good idea: What IF we just said wait, and those working on the translation kept working?

NASA How long did Lazarus need before he heard and recognized the command of his God to get up and embrace life once again? Thinking of accounts of those who claim to have had experiences of death and then a return to life, I wonder if Lazarus wanted to come back.

As I sit with the image, I begin to see that small black silhouette of Jesus and know he is calling to me. Calling to me in my dark places, places that need the redeeming touch of Grace. Do I hear? How long has he been calling my name? Do I want to come out or am I comfortable with the habits, feelings, and situations that keep me bound up, unable to live life fully as I am made to do? Sometimes, our darkness offers the comfort of familiarity. It is our darkness after all, and we may feel some sense of control by our freedom to choose to stay in its grip.

Jesus called. But Lazarus had to decide to get up and walk out.

Before voicing his command, Jesus prayed: And Jesus raised his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you for hearing me. I know that you always hear me…”

When entombed in my personal fears and darkness, do I believe that God is always hearing me? Like matter trapped in a black hole, are my calls for help frozen to stillness when they come out of my mouth? Or do they make it to God’s ear?

Sunday’s reading tells me “Yes.” Yes, God is always hearing me. Yes, God stands at the boundary of life and death, both physical death and the many “deaths” we experience along our journeys. Yes, Jesus calls to me, and his voice carries with it the power to respond.

Sometimes, Jesus’ voice comes through other human vocal chords: friends, family, counselors, and doctors. Sometimes we hear it in music or sounds of nature. It is always the sound of hope. Responding is not easy. Lazarus must have struggled to make it out the tomb, but once he did, others were there to help remove the cloth binding him.

Lenten disciplines help us quiet the noise of life and hear the Voice calling us to new life.

© 2011 Mary van Balen

This is a portion of my April 10, 2011 column, “Grace In the Moment,” that appears in the Catholic Times. See Link of my home page to read full column.

Rev. Bob Graetz, civil rights leader, speaking about civil rights issues of today. PHOTO: Mary van Balen So the guards went to the chief priests and Pharisees, who asked them, “Why did you not bring him? ”The guards answered, “Never before has anyone spoken like this man.” So the Pharisees answered them, “Have you also been deceived? Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him? But this crowd, which does not know the law, is accursed.” Jn 7,45-49

While gathered with friends for a prayerful evening, I listened as one of them read aloud from “Charter of Rights” for Catholics In the Church,” based on Vatican I documents, the Social Justice teachings especially as articulated by Pope Paul VI in “The Progress of Peoples.” The first right listed was that, “All Catholics have the right to follow their informed consciences in all matters.”

I thought of that as I read today’s gospel. Those who heard Jesus speak, even those sent to arrest him, were riveted by his words. How could one arrest a man who spoke like that? Jesus spoke Truth, and Truth finds resonance in human hearts enlivened by the indwelling of that same Truth, the Spirit.I imagine even the most hardened of hearts felt a stir when hearing Jesus preach, or perhaps even when he simply walked by. The Divine spark placed in every person recognizes itself and moves toward unity with the Holy One.

The Pharisees were having trouble keeping their minions under control. Sent to bring Jesus back, they returned instead with questions and awe for Jesus. “Never before has anyone spoken like this man,” they said. They were in the presence of Truth and knew it.

What kept the Pharisees from experiencing a similar pull towards God in their midst? The clung to the Law, and to the arrogance that allowed them to believe that they alone understood it in its wholeness. The assumed they knew Jesus, where he was from, and what he was about. They could not believe that God would speak to ordinary people and that they would understand and respond. That was the domain of the learned, schooled in Law and its interpretation.

Nicodemus, one of their own, challenged the Pharisees to give Jesus the chance to speak and to listen to him before making judgements. The Pharisees’ minds were already made up. Jesus would have to go.

Just as in Jesus’ time, being aware of the movement of the Divine within us and following its lead takes courage and perseverance. Following the Spirit within as well as being aware of the larger context of the community and its laws and directives requires courage. How difficult was it for the guards to return with full hearts and empty hands? What inner strength did Nicodemus draw on to question the Pharisees’ judgement?

Lenten practices help us become more attuned to the Spirit that dwells within each of us, the Spirit sent by Jesus to help us continue his work of bringing the Kingdom.

Holy One, give us perseverance to remain faithful as we continue our efforts to become more aware of you in our lives. Give us wisdom to recognize your movement in our souls and the courage to be faithful to it. Amen
© 2001 Mary van Balen

In a departure from Lenten reflections, I must address the Federal Budget negotiations. First, cuts to reduce the deficit have been proposed that disproportionately target programs that serve the poor and vulnerable. These programs are not where the big money is found. In the big picture, eliminating them all would do little to reduce federal spending. Many people of many faiths, and some of no particular religious affiliation, are fasting to raise awareness and to pray for responsible decisions regarding the budget.

This morning I read in a NY Times article that one of the sticking points was now a Republican proposals for “…measures that would restrict the regulatory powers of the Environmental Protection Agency, a favorite target of Republicans since they took over the House, by preventing the agency from enforcing significant portions of the Clean Air Act and regulating carbon emissions.”

This, after we saw in dramatic fashion in the Gulf oil spill, what can happen when companies are left to regulate themselves? This, when the tragedy in Japan has focused world attention on the need for clean energy and research into alternative energy sources?

I do not mean to imply that every business is guilty, but many are, and many that are have huge impacts on the environment. I have recently returned from a country where the moves for vehicle emissions controls and stiffer regulations on manufacturing companies are far behind our own. One of the first things I thought when embarking back home was “Thank God for the EPA!”

I have spent the morning calling and emailing senators and representatives. If you share my concern, I encourage you to do the same.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

The Dance of God? Credits: X-ray: NASA/CXC/CfA/E. O’Sullivan Optical: Canada-France-Hawaii-Telescope/Coelum Remember your servants Abraham, Isaac and Israel, and how you swore to them by your own self, saying,‘I will make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky; and all this land that I promised,I will give your descendants as their perpetual heritage.’“So the LORD relented in the punishment he had threatened to inflict on his people.
Ez 32,13-14

Today’s first reading brings to mind a question that theologians and thoughtful believers have grappled with for centuries: Can God change?

Hebrew Scriptures contain numerous passages where God “changes his mind.” In the New Testament, Jesus shows emotion when he weeps over Jerusalem and at the tomb of Lazarus. Can prayers and entreaties for mercy change God’s plans?

Part of the dilemma stems from the idea that perfection is unchangeable. If perfection changes, it can only change to less than perfection. So, if God is perfect, God cannot change. This is a static perception of God.

There are other ideas that do not share the static, dualistic (perfect or not) way of approaching God. One of these is looking at God as a dynamic relationship among the Divine persons: As Christians, we could say the relationship of the Trinity. God is not three unchanging persons, but the relationship, the love, the “dance” of three.

Has this “dance” spilled over and “become” creation? Did God will to create and to draw us ever deeper into a relationship with the Infinite, into the “Dance?”

Reflecting on these questions and allowing ourselves to think in new ways about God can deepen our expereince of the Holy One. It can take us to a “broad place,” (Ps 118,5) to look at God with fresh eyes. Today’s reading made me think and sent me to books and the internet to delve deeper into the mystery of how God relates to me, to us, to creation.

As we continue our spiritual journey of Lent, let’s ponder Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection as God’s most direct invitation: Come, dance with Me.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me;
my Lord has forgotten me.”
Can a mother forget her infant,
be without tenderness for the child of her womb?
Even should she forget,
I will never forget you.

Is 49,14-15

“No, my mother is bringing my lunch over,” my second grade daughter told the boy who had offered to share a sandwich. We had been running late that morning, and I didn’t have time to pack her lunch.

“Don’t worry, honey. I will bring it over before you head to the cafeteria,” I said when I dropped her off at school.

I am not sure what waited for me at home, but the hours passed and I completely forgot about taking over a lunch.

“No thank you,” my daughter said with a smile when one of her teachers offered to buy a lunch for her. “My mother said she would bring my lunch over. She won’t forget.”

I don’t remember if I completely missed her lunch hour or if I made it during the last five minutes, but suddenly, I remembered my promise, threw together a lunch, and rushed it over to the school which was across town.

A sad little girl met me in the hall.

“You forgot me, mom,” she said sadly. She might as well have stuck a knife in my heart. On the drive home I told myself all mothers forget sometimes, but still I felt horrible. No one wants to disappoint those they love.

Today’s first reading is full of the Lord’s promises to the prophet and to God’s people: He will provide food and water so they will not hunger or thirst; he will protect them; he will even cut roads through the mountains for them. The passage ends with the beautiful reference to the love of a mother for her child. God promises not to forget.

That promise is hard to believe. Like my young daughter, we have all been disappointed in those whom we trust. We have all felt forgotten by family and friends. We have all felt alone. How can we believe that the Maker of the Universe will not forget us? How can the Mother of All keep each of us in mind?

Such belief is a choice.

Despite life’s difficulties, I believe God’s love is fierce; it is constant. A mother’s love for her child is a reflection, however imperfect, of God’s ever mindful love of her children.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen Along the bank of the river I saw very many trees on both sides. Wherever the river flows,every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live,and there shall be abundant fish, for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh. Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow…
Ez 47,7;9

Therefore we fear not, though the earth be shaken
and mountains plunge into the depths of the sea.
R. The Lord of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob.
Ps 46,3

The water that feeds the river in the first reading comes from the sanctuary and restores arid land to fertility. What lives in the water and what grows on its banks will never fail. God is its source.

The responsorial psalm speaks of disasters. While the images used are meant to represent all types of calamities, verse three brought the recent earthquake and tsunami to mind.

One reading presents an idyllic picture of fecundity and peace. The other, destruction beyond imagining. What do they have in common? The Presence of God.

Divine generosity is easy to see in the first: life, abundance, and in later verses, food and medicine. God’s Grace is more difficult to comprehend in the second. Why would the earth shake to its depths and mountains tumble into the sea? Where is God in the midst of death and destruction?

The eyes of faith see what physical eyes miss: God is With Us always, as promised from old, as manifest in the birth of Jesus, and as celebrated in his death and resurrection.

God’s faithful Presence is not obvious when we look from places of suffering and despair. During those times we must draw on faith, on recalling God’s walk with us in times past. “Therefore, we fear not,” the psalmist sings. No matter what happens, God is our refuge.

Our Lenten practices are meant to open the eyes of faith, to strengthen our faith. In the midst of his agonizing death, Jesus wondered aloud why God had abandoned him. Still, he died with faith, handing his spirit over to the God he could not feel or see, but whom he trusted to be there to receive it.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: NASA

Thus says the LORD:
Lo, I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
Is 65,17

Yesterday I read an AP article Tweaking the climate to save it: Who decides?about a group of scholars, scientists, philosophers, lawyers, and politicians who gathered in Chicheley Hall in a remote English countryside to discuss the possibility of reflecting sunlight away from earth in order to counteract global warming.

As Kenyan earth scientist Richard Odingo said, playing God can be tempting. Another countered with the remark that the whole idea was unsettling. The problem is that not enough is being done to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and unless that changes rapidly, disaster could result if a “Plan B” is not in place.

The problem with Plan B is, well, we are not God and we don’t know what long term effects of such a “sunshade project” would be. Who would decide what to do and when? Researching technologies does not mean they should be used, but humanity has been down that road a few times: If it is possible, it is usually done.

Reducing greenhouse emissions is hard work. It requires changes in lifestyles, in worldview, in energy production. President Obama recently laid out an energy plan that included aggressive research and development of alternative fuel sources. Such research has been proposed for decades with little actually done about it. Doing something now is imperative, but I wonder if it is too little too late.

Knowing that such a group has seen the need to convene and discuss what had been unthinkable in the past is unsettling. Are the people of this planet able to come together to address such a dilemma? Evidence suggests not.

“We have a lot of thinking to do,” the Kenyan Odingo told the others. “I don’t know how many of us can sleep well tonight.”

We have a lot of praying to do, too.
© 2011 Mary van Balen