PHOTO:Bernard Gragnon Statue of Saint Paul,Damascus

Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation.
Mark 16,15

Today is the feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul. You may remember that, while on his way to Damascus to round up more Christians to take back to Jerusalem for punishment, Paul was knocked off his horse by a blinding light and confronted by the risen Lord: Why do you persecute me? The event and its aftermath changed Paul forever.

I have a friend who said he would like to have a “knocked off my horse” experience, something that would help him know with surety what direction to go in his life. Wouldn’t we all? With all due respect to Saint Paul, making a drastic life change would be easier to do if Jesus Christ flooded me with light and we had a heart to heart about what he wanted me to do. Of course, Paul needed courage and faith to follow his road which was fraught with conflict, persecution as well as success. His conversion and mission eventually led to his death.

Most of us do not have a “knocked off my horse” moment, but rather discern God’s presence and direction in our lives bit by bit. Here our path is similar to Paul’s.
However the Holy One communicates Grace to us, we must be open to receive it. A well-educated zealous Jew, Paul was receptive to Jesus’ message because he was a man of faith prayerfully committed to serving God. He was a sincere seeker of Truth and willing to suffer as he remained faithful to it.

We are called to be people of prayer, to expect to encounter God in our world and our lives. We are called to nurture an open heart and willing spirit. God may speak to us, as to Elijah, in a whisper, but we must not mistake a quiet process of growing closer to God with an absence of the Holy in our lives. Conversion is a constant part of life that requires discipline and prayerful presence to the moment.

We may not have a “knocked off the horse” moment, but we can be sure that God is always with us, revealing the Compassionate Love that will lead us to the Divine embrace.

PHOTO: unknown
Death was not God’s doing, he takes no pleasure in the extinction of the living. To be – for this he created all; the world’s created things have health in them, in them no fatal poison can be found, and Hades holds no power on earth; for virtue is undying. Wisdom 1:13-15

Taken from today’s afternoon reading (None)

Yesterday, I shoveled the driveway twice. After working from one end to the other, I looked toward the garage where I had started and saw already another inch had accumulated there. Snow stopped sometime during the night and this morning the white stuff is sparkling under bright sunlight. Even the streets are white, an indication of temperatures too cold for salt to do its work.

Perhaps this verse from Wisdom was more striking being read in the midst of winter. The words made me think of lush spring and early summer when blooms stand atop thick green stems that snap and ooze sappy juice if they are broken. Creation is “juicy” with what sustains it flowing through xylem and phloem, arteries and veins.

And spirit. Or soul. Or whatever we name that which holds the Divine spark that animates us and feeds our deepest selves. God has created everything “To Be…” as the reading reminds us, to be with vitality in every cell.

Yet, we know, winter comes and flowers wither and die. Spirits, too, dry up in the face of life’s challenges and natures fickleness. Too much or too little water. Earth’s crust splits to accommodate tectonic plates’ restless jumps and dives as they shoulder one another to get comfortable.
Winds change, drive fires, and send frigid temperatures flying around the globe.

We see death as much as life when we look around. Where is this “health” God has put in every created thing? Where can a war orphan look to see it? Or those suffering from drought or driven from their homes by flood? Where is God-given “health” found in a body ravaged by cancer or a mind clouded by Alzheimers? What has happened to the mental health of a young man who walks up to a congresswoman and shoots her in the head?

So, where is this “health” unconquerable by death and hell?

I am reminded of the last stanza in Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem, “God’s Grandeur”

“And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.”

God’s own Self is the oozy sap that gives us life. The Creator’s Grace enables our spirits to survive whatever befalls us. Our bodies, as amazing as they are, eventually succumb to age, disease, or harm. But what is essential, the “dearest, freshness deep down things” will live to give glory to the One who put it there.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

SCULPTURE: Lament by Connie Butler

While I was hanging up pajamas at the store, the television above the entrance to the fitting rooms was tuned to CNN. Anchors spouted various polling percentages of disapproval of Obama’s healthcare reform. When I returned to pull robes off the rack, the talk was about who the reform was helping and how repeal would contribute to the deficit.

“We are the only nation in the West that doesn’t have healthcare for its citizens,” a co-worker lamented. “I just don’t GET these people.!”

My heart sank.

Breaking news later: a shooting in a LA high school; an earthquake in Pakistan.

Local news: a naked man, scratched and bleeding, had approached a home and begged the residents to let him in. Understandably, they were hesitant and called police. When they arrived, they could find no trace of the man. He was later found dead. Pictures of a tattoo were to be broadcast later in the hopes that someone would be able to identify him.

I ate dinner out this evening and read an alternative paper as I enjoyed Lebanese cuisine. The new governor, inheriting a financial crisis (as so many are), wants to cut services and benefits. No new taxes. I sighed. Working with poverty programs for years, I know some of those who will suffer most. Teaching for more years, I know that cutting frenzy reaches classrooms, too. How can we keep deluding ourselves that we can run a city, state, or country, without increased revenue?
Somewhere I read that Illinois governor is considering new taxes. The rest of the governors are “still in denial.”

My heart fell lower still.

Checking email at home I noticed an AP article about a letter from the Vatican to Irish bishops sent in 1997 warning them not to report all suspected child abuse cases to the police. My heart sank lower yet. When will the hierarchy admit their collusion in this horrendous scandal? When can I believe what I hear coming out of Rome? I am sickened and angered again by what feels like betrayal.

My heart is on the ground.

Oh God, how long? How long must we wait?
There is nothing I can do
to move these souls,
to bring justice,
to wash the stink from the land.

Oh God, how long?
I have no answers
and little hope,
Yet somewhere
in my heart
you have planted faith
and I am hanging on
to its solid branches
with all my resolve.

I am weak and sinful,
but I trust in your Word:
You will not abandon
the peoples of the earth.

Still, I wonder
How long?

I guess this falls under “I wish I had written that.” This morning while perusing the New York Times, I came across an op-ed written by David Brooks titled “Tree of Failure.” He lauds President Obama’s memorial speech and his call for a return to civility but points out the “Tree of Civility” has roots in recognition of our failures, sin, and weaknesses.

At the risk of cliche I will say that “It takes a village.” Everything we do well involves others in one way or another. Despite rampant individualism, the truth is, no one gets to heaven on their own. Salvation is not a “personal” accomplishment. We get there together or we don’t get there at all. As Grace would have it, the God who is calling us to Oneness has promised the success of the journey, but it won’t be one by one.

Similarly, a climate of civility will not return to this country by isolated efforts or by people, convinced of the truth of their views, working to win over the rest of us.It will come when we accept our sinfulness, our weakness and failures, and humbly join our efforts with the efforts of others. Together we can discern a path forward as we seek to find a way to provide healhcare to all. Together we can hammer out a budget that is just. Together we can find a way to reduce violence in our streets, or in front of a Tuscon grocery.

It takes humility. It takes openness to the thoughts and ideas of others. It takes recognition that none of us has a corner on the truth.

I encourage you to read Mr. Brooks column. And I pray for national resolve to engage in personal reflection and soul searching, a sort of examen to become aware of what we have to offer and what we have to learn.

PHOTO: J. Scott Applewhite/AP

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Psalm 46 (from President Obama’s speech)

President Obama delivered a powerful speech in Tuscon yesterday as he remembered those killed and wounded in Saturday’s shooting rampage and called Americans to respond to the tragedy in a way that would honor the victims. His words were eloquent and heartfelt. He spoke with the humility he recommended to all Americans.

After remembering each victim and recognizing those who assisted at the shooting scene and the medical staff who ministered to the wounded, Mr. Obama turned to inward reflection as well as the need to move forward.

Such a tragedy, similar to the sudden loss of a family member, moves us to reflection on our lives, how we treat others, and how we can change for the better in our public and private lives. Indeed, Mr. Obama’s words and presence created a feeling of intmacy and “family” among those listening to his words.

His speech helped me believe that change in political discourse is possible. Perhaps civility and respect in debate is not a lost cause. He sounded a call to work together for the common good, and as a good leader, helped us believe that we can do it.

Looking at the good qualities of our nation, government, and people in general through the eyes of the child, Christina Taylor Green, helped us see again the good in the world. He exhorted us not to look for an easy explanation or to point fingers at those who think differently than we do, but to search for answers in a way that in a way worthy of Christina.

Mr. Obama asked us to react in a way that lives up to the expectations of all our children. Using Scripture again, he referred to Job looking for light but finding only darkness. We cannot understand the presence of evil in the world, but we are responsible for how we live our lives combating the darkness in our own corner of the world.

I hope his words inspire us all, particularly those in Congress, to go forward willing to listen and to tackle the challenges we face without demonizing those with whom we disagree.
© Mary van Balen 2011

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
“Getting ready for the snow storm?” I asked as I handed the customer her bag of Cuddle Duds long johns.

“Yes, and I’m going home and making a big pot of chili for dinner.”

“I’ll be over,” I joked. She laughed as she walked away, but I couldn’t get a big pot of chili out of my mind. Actually, it sounded so good I decided right then that I was going to stop at the grocery after work, buy the ingredients, and make myself a big pot of chili.

Funny how something as simple as that can lift one’s spirits. I smiled for the rest of the afternoon and enjoyed every moment of browning meat, onions, and green pepper before adding tomatoes and beans. The chili needed to simmer and I treated myself to a cup of tea and time to read some of “The Week.”

My sister unexpectedly stopped by and we visited while spicy smells filled the house. At nine o’clock I ladled out a steamy bowl of chili, topped it with extra sharp cheddar, and crumbled saltines over it all.

Ahh. I uncharacteristically took small bites and savored each one. How often do I eat without even noticing the flavors, textures, and aromas? Too often. I closed my eyes and gave thanks for a place to live, to cook, and for the wonders of chili on a cold winter night.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

IMAGE: The Baptism of Jesus by He Qi

As soon as Jesus was baptised he came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And a voice spoke from heaven, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.’ Mt 3, 16-17

In his book, “The Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan,” Kilian McDonnell OSB calls Jesus’ baptism a boundary event. It was a “…bridge-burning event – the boundary cannot be recrossed- representing a radically new orientation in the life of Jesus.” p4-5.

In the gospels, Jesus came to the Jordan an unknown, or as McDonnell says, “an anonymous face in the crowd.” After the baptism, he is singled out as “the one who is to come,” “My beloved Son,” “the servant of Yahweh.” Some scholars hold that his baptism was the moment when Jesus came to understand who he was. Others say he came to his baptism already knowing his identity and mission.

Either way, the direction of his life changed from that moment. No longer a carpenter from Nazareth, he was a prophet, teacher, healer, preacher. His path was set before the water dripping from his body had dried.

As I pondered this feast and Jesus’ message of repentance with forgiveness already manifest in his being, I considered my own life. What have been my boundary events? What has given new direction to my journey? What has been an occasion of increase in faith and self knowledge? What has profoundly affected how I live faithful to my knowing of God and my ministry?

The decision to marry? The choice of my lifelong partner? Surely anyone who is a parent knows that the moment of your child’s birth is a boundary event. Nothing is the same again. Accepting the opportunity to live and work for two semesters at the Collegeville Institute. The recognition that a marriage has ended and the decision to legally declare it so is also a life changing event.

The new year is an appropriate time to reflect on these questions and to think about Jesus’ response to his baptism. He went away to pray and face the temptations that could lure him away from his new path. He sought strength and understanding by spending time with the One who sent him and emerged from the desert a man committed to his vision.

Nothing deterred him. He went forward, not always knowing where he would sleep or what he would eat. Not knowing the “how” but sure of the “why” of his life.

Today’s feast encourages us to deepen our relationship with God and to respond to the Spirit moving in our deepest center. She will give us strength and courage to accept the place our boundary events have taken us and to walk our path with heart.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

“Have a good evening,” Kim said as I left work last night.

“I will. I’m going to a Christmas dinner with some friends.”

“CHRISTMAS? Girlfriend, Christmas is over. We are getting ready for Valentine’s Day!” she said, smiling.

“When I was growing up, the tree went up on Christmas Eve and came down after the Epiphany. That’s January 6th. I like to savor the holiday.”

Savoring it I am. A kindred spirit, Ann still had decorations up. The living room was glowing with a Christmas tree; candles and poinsettias brightened the room where we gathered, but the most delightful adornment was the people around the table sharing good food, conversation, and coffee. As Emerson said, “The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.”

We moved from dinner to prayer, reflecting on winter and the graces is brings: Accepting the gift of “being” rather than “doing;” trusting in hope that rests in tired souls like seeds buried in the cold earth; learning how to wait for change with anticipation of possibilities rather than fear; crying tears for lost dreams of our own and of others; giving thanks for friends and their loving support; learning when to let go.

After sharing blessings with one another and swapping small gifts, we stood around the baby grand piano and sang Christmas carols. Ann’s small but powerful hands drew rich music from the instrument and we all sang with our hearts as well as our voices. Bass, alto, and soprano mingled and lifted spirits. I don’t know how many people besides choirs still come together to sing Christmas songs, but I am thankful to call some of them friends, and a most precious gift of the season that still has two days to go.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

IMAGE: Theotokos “Eleusa-Kiska” by Simon Ushakov 1668

The shepherds hurried away to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds went back glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen; it was exactly as they had been told. Lk 2, 16-20

On this feast of Mary, Mother of God, I imagine Mary pondering not only the birth of Jesus and what immediately followed, but also the countless mysteries of her life. This icon conveys closeness and warmth between Mary and her son. Both appear to look beyond what is immediately visible to some deeper reality. Perhaps what they see is Love, God’s desire for intimacy with us. The ability to perceive such grace comes from their relationship.

Jesus, safe in his mother’s arms, learns love and trust and openness to the One who sent him. Mary, whose faith enabled her to recognize the human face of God, continues to grow in faith as her son and his life lead her through experiences she cannot understand. She accepts them, and holds them in her heart that swells with pride and breaks with anguish.

Mary’s “yes” gave the Most Holy One a human body, a heart, a face we can look upon and recognize as one of us. Through her, we have been given a glimpse of God-With-Us in an astoundingly personal way. We, too, are invited to say “yes” to God’s desire to be one with us. Through our relationship with Jesus we too are graced to expereince intimacy with God. We are invited to ponder our lives and to see through them the Love that is the Source of all.

As the New Year begins, may we be graced with Mary’s vision, with her openness to receive God, and with her patience when we, like her, wonder at God’s mystery unfolding from our “yes.” May we trust as she did, even when life holds pain and hurt we cannot understand, that life can bring us to Good that is God. May we be a sign of that hope to others.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: The Living End
I weep and my eyes dissolve in tears, since the comforter who could revive me is far away. My sons are in despair, the enemy has proved too strong. Mid-morning reading Lamentations 1:16

This feast was always difficult for me, offended as I was by the injustice of these senseless deaths: countless young boys killed because they were born at the wrong time and place.

The birth of Jesus, Love incarnate, occasioned this slaughter, which is both foreshadowing of fear-induced violence engendered in some by his message, and a metaphor for those throughout history who suffer because of circumstance rather than consequence.

Who are today’s Holy Innocents? If they do not die from bombing raids, hostile fire, or explosives, children born in war-ravaged countries may die of starvation and disease. Those who survive carry mental and/or physical scars for the rest of their lives. Countless number of children born in countries overwhelmed with AIDS and other diseases die before they have a chance to live. And what of the effects of poverty on the most vulnerable among us?

When thinking of “poverty,” images of children in other, poor countries may come to mind. However, poverty engulfs an increasing number of people including children in our country. According the US Census Bureau, the poverty rate for children under 18 increased from 19% to 20.7% between 2008 and 2009. Approximately 15.5 million children in the US live in poverty, and that does not include the 460,000 who are not included in the count because they do not reside with relatives.

Perhaps my discomfort with this feast has more to do with my unintentional complicity in the poverty cycle in my own country than with the plight of young boys 2,000 years ago. What can I change? How can I live in a way that does not contribute to the suffering of Holy Innocents in my own time and place? What can I do to contribute to the solution?

I will ponder these questions of following the teaching and example of Jesus as time for “New Year’s Resolutions” approach.
© 2010 Mary van Balen