Gentile Bellini “Annunciation” The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus… Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow… ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.
Luke 1:26-38

A friend of mine, poet Kilian McDonnell OSB, wrote a poem titled “In the Kitchen.” Here are a few lines:

Bellini has it wrong.
I was not kneeling
on my satin cushion
quietly at prayer,
head slightly bent.

Painters always
skew the scene,
as though my life
were wrapped in silks,
in temple smells.

Actually I had just
come back from the well,
placing the pitcher on the table
I bumped against the edge,
spilling water on the floor.

As I bent to wipe
it up, there was a light
against the kitchen wall
as though someone had opened
the door to the sun…

Hearing the story in Luke, or reflecting on some of the many paintings made of the Annunciation, we might be tempted, like the painters, to forget that Mary was a young girl, busy with ordinary chores of life in Nazareth. Was she frightened when she saw the light and realized what was being asked of her? Was she tempted to say “no” to the invitation to become a pregnant, unmarried, betrothed maiden? Did images of implications flash through her mind?

Her faith was deep and pure. Still, saying “Yes” was a brave thing, a profound thing for the young girl to say. She was giving herself away to her God and to a future that she could not imagine. She trusted God with her life which in that moment was forever changed.

When someone called Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker, “a saint,” her reply was: “Don’t call me a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed so easily.”

We should not dismiss Mary easily either, by imagining she was so different than us. It gets us off the hook of responding courageously to God’s call to us. Just as calling someone “a saint” puts her in a category of “other,” and makes her life not some much an example to be followed as an aberration available to a select few, thinking of Mary as the serene woman in Bellini’s painting can imply that we have an excuse for not following her example: She is different than the rest of us.

Indeed, she is different: She is the mother of God. Still, she was a human being and her “yes” came with great cost. This is not a day of sentimentality, but a day of challenge. A day to commit ourselves to saying “yes” despite the cost.

PHOTOS: Mary van Balen ‘The rich man replied, “Father, I beg you then to send Lazarus to my father’s house, since I have five brothers, to give them warning so that they do not come to this place of torment too.” “They have Moses and the prophets,” said Abraham “let them listen to them..” “Ah no, father Abraham,” said the rich man “but if someone comes to them from the dead, they will repent.” Then Abraham said to him, “If they will not listen either to Moses or to the prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead.”’
Gospel: Luke 16:19-31

Sometimes I think if only God would speak more clearly, I would be able to find the path to follow, the job to take, the place to move. Luke’s gospel tells me otherwise. God is speaking. The difficulty is more on the listener’s end.

The story about a man stranded on the roof of a house during a flood comes to mind. He is sure God is going to save him, so when someone comes in a boat, a helicopter, and a raft, he declines their offer of help: “God will save me,” he says. After he drowns and goes to heave he walks up to God and complains: “You said you would save me. What happened?”

“I sent you someone in a boat, a helicopter, and a raft. What else did you want?”

The man could not see God’s hand in the offers of help missed his chances. Luke is saying the same to the rich man who begs Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers’ house to warn them not to repeat the behavior that landed the rich man in hell.Like God says to the stranded man, Abraham brushes aside the rich man’s request: “No, your brothers have Moses and the prophets. What more could they want? If they don’t heed their words, they would not believe someone, even if he were to come to them from the dead!”

We have God’s word. We have the Spirit dwelling within. We have spiritual companions who have listened longer and perhaps more deeply than we have oursleves. God has come to live among us, to show us the way.

“Mary,” I hear Luke telling me, ” listen. Learn to listen and you will no need a special sign, or God’s voice echoing in your ear.”

Listening. Lent is a good time to remind ourselves of the importance of the quiet prayer of listening. Surely, God is happy to hear our thanksgiving and praise, our needs, our pain. But we cannot learn how to follow Chirst if we do not listen.

PHOTO: Mary van Balen It is you that the Lord our God has chosen to be his very own people out of all the peoples on the earth. It was for love of you and to keep the oath he swore to your fathers that the Lord brought you out with his mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt. Know then that the Lord your God is God indeed, the faithful God who is true to his covenant and his graciousness for a thousand generations towards those who love him and keep his commandments.

Deuteronomy 7:6,8-9

Todays short reading from Liturgy of the Hours speaks to us of God’s loving care and faithfulness. Perhaps because sleep evades me more often at night lately, Divine watchfulness and compassion is particularly important as I turn off the house lights and crawl into bed.

I am including a beautiful prayer from Jim Cotter’s “Prayer at Night’s Approaching.” It’s simplicity and confidence in God’s presence has helped me let go of the day’s unfinished business and the future’s unknown to find rest and peace in God’s embrace.

Lord,
it is night.

The night is for stillness.
Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day.
What has been done has been done;
what has not been done has not been done;
let it be.

The night is dark;
Let our fears of the darkness of the world and our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet.
Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,
all dear to us,
and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn.
Let us look expectantly to a new day,
new joys,
new possibilities.

In your name we pray.
Amen

PHOTOS: Mary van Balen You visit the earth and water it,
make it abundantly fertile.
God’s stream is filled with water…
…Thus do you prepare the earth; you drench plowed furrows,
and level their ridges.
With showers you keep the ground soft,
blessing its young sprouts…
your paths drip with fruitful rain.
The untilled meadows also drip…

Morning Prayer Ps65,10-13

Last night, I lay in bed listening to the storm. Thunder rumbled, lightening illumined pulled window shades, and rain pummeled the roof. Storms at night comfort me as I lay in darkness, trying to put the days events to rest. Rain. Water. Ancient symbols of God’s blessings fell all round me. Springtime earth soaked it up. So did I.

A few nights ago, I visited my sky gazing friend, Melanie, to celebrate the super moon. I arrived while she was still at church, so looping a monocular around my neck and sliding a camera in my pocket, I took a slow walk around her property.

The first thing I noticed was the boggy path, covered with earth-hugging green and oozing water at every step. I shifted my weight and watched the water run from one side of my shoe to the other. Eyes closed, I was still and felt God’s own life fill my soul, like water drawn up a thirsty stalk.

I made no effort; it was all the water’s work, carrying grace to empty places. I stood long, marveling at the energy and hope that invigorated me.

Bird calls drew my attention, and I nodded to my companions: cedar waxwings, doves, bluebirds, red-winged black birds, titmice, juncos, song sparrows, house sparrows, a skittish wren, and of course, grackles.

Melanie returned. We sat on her veranda, lit a fire in the chiminea, and ate homemade soup as we waited for the moon to make its appearance. It did not disappoint, rising big and orange through the trees. As it climbed higher, the moon looked back at itself from Melanie’s pond.

Birch logs glowed orange, smoke rose to the sky, and we sat, two friends saturated with spring blessings.
©2011 Mary van Balen

Thai postage stamp honoring Goddess Guan Yin
Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.’ Gospel Luke 6:36-38

While in Thailand, I discovered a postage stamp that pictured the goddess with a thousand arms. Not knowing the story of the thousands arms and thousand eyes, I did a little research and discovered that this goddess, Guan Yin, is one who hears the sounds or cries of the world. She listens and with her thousand eyes finds those who suffer or need help. Her arms allow her to snatch them out of their suffering or to keep evil at bay. Guan Yin is a Buddhist Bodhisattva of compassion.

I was drawn to the image as an expression of Divine compassion, emphasizing the feminine face of God. Today’s reading instructs us to be instruments of compassion in the world. Today, bombarded by images and sound bites of suffering and disasters world wide, we can feel overwhelmed by the need and underwhelmed by our abilities to meet it.

When I feel like this, I remember the story of the young boy with a few loaves and fishes in the midst of thousands of hungry people. Jesus asked only for what the boy had. By itself, it would provide a meager lunch for a few, but Jesus did not expect the boy to feed the crowd by himself. Jesus took what the boy had and made it more than enough.

We are not able to fix the woes of the world, nor are we able to assist all those who need help. Still, we are called to respond, giving unselfishly of what we have, and counting on Jesus to make it more than enough. We might give to those in our families, to our community, or donate to relief efforts around the world. We give from our need, as Mother Theresa said, and God will take care of the rest. Alms giving is one of the traditional Lenten practices, and today’s gospel reading calls us to reflect on what we are doing in our lives to share the compassion of God.

While we are at it, we should also remember to be compassionate to ourselves. One can give so much of self away that little is left. Some of us are quick to give to others, to forgive, to sacrifice, but do not extend the same loving care to ourselves. Taking time to refresh, to do things that rejuvenate body and spirit is not selfish. God treasures each of us and wants what is good for us. Taking time to reconnect with God in our lives through prayer and reflection bears fruit in our lives.

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.
‘I will bless those who bless you:
I will curse those who slight you.
All the tribes of the earth
shall bless themselves by you.’
So Abram went as the Lord told him.

Genesis 12:1-4

The first reading today tells the story of Abram’s call from God to leave his home and follow God to some unnamed place. Abram does as he is instructed, even with scanty information.

As Jaques Guillet points out in his article on “Blessings” in “Dictionary of Biblical Theology,” this blessing marked a turning point, it was a “new kind of blessing.” After many chapters of curses after sin made its entrance into the world, God addresses Abram with a blessing not only for himself or his family, but for all peoples on the earth. This is the beginning of the unfolding of salvation history.

Why Abram? Scriptures do not tell us, but they do record his (and Sara’s) response; obedience. What did it mean for he and Sara to leave family, friends, homeland for an unknown destination? Did the ones behind think the couple was crazy or odd? How did they explain their move to people who worshiped many gods?

While no history of Abram and his wife are given, we know they were people of faith. That alone is enough to answer “Why them?” People with faith strong enough to enable them to trust their lives and their future to an unknown God.

When unknowns fill our lives, we might remember Abram and Sara, their trust that led through difficult times, but eventually to great blessings. God did not abandon them, nor will we be left alone. God walks with us.

PHOTO: NASA Bless the Lord, all his works,
praise and exalt him for ever.
Bless the Lord, you heavens;
all his angels, bless the Lord.
Bless the Lord, you waters above the heavens;
all his powers, bless the Lord.
Bless the Lord, sun and moon;
all stars of the sky, bless the Lord.

Dn 3, 57-63

This evening, if you are able to look east as the moon hangs over the horizon, you will be treated to a sight that occurs only once every eighteen years: A super moon. It occurs when the full moon phase coincides with the moon’s closest pass by the earth, the perigee. For unexplainable reasons, the moon appears huge when it hovers at the horizon and shines through trees, houses, or other objects in the foreground. Tonight’s view will be stunning for those in locations free of clouds.

Such a sight can make one’s heart beat a faster; one’s breath come quicker. Accustomed to the majesty of the universe, not giving a thought to the fact that we are spinning through space, a smallish planet circling a medium sized star, we can take a moment to be still, and standing beneath the sky, remember that we are also standing in the midst of a universe beyond our understanding. We can drink in the glory of the night sky and sing the praises of the One who set these wonders in motion.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Pay attention, come to me; listen, and your soul will live.

Mid Morning Prayer (Terce) Isaiah 55:3

Isaiah’s words from today’s Liturgy of the Hours are short and to the point. Why does something as simple as “pay attention” need said, especially when the result is vitality of spirit? Many times my columns, articles, and blogs include references to being present to the moment. Writer, Don Murray, says writers have a few “themes” that provide a core for their works.

Being present to God in the moment is one of mine. Why write about it, coming at it from different directions over and over again? It resurfaces because as much as I know its importance, being faithful to its practice is difficult.

Attentiveness needs time to bear fruit, like planting a seed and watering it. The sprout does not appear immediately, but without water, it will not appear at all.

Lent calls us to attentiveness. God’s Spirit may lie quiet and unnoticed in our souls, like plants resting out of sight all winter long. Taking time to be with the Holy One in the stillness of our hearts, in quiet moments snatched from a busy day, nurtures God’s life in each of us and promises to bring it to bloom.
© 2011 Mary van Balen

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

If you attended a Catholic School, today is a day you may remember as one that required wearing some bit of green. No matter that you had not a drop of Irish blood in your veins. Being of Dutch descent, I once rebelled and wore orange instead. Only once.

Patrick left two documents that are believed to be authentic and from them we gather most of what we know about him, “The Confession of Saint Patrick”detailing much of his life. What remains with me is not the hagiography, the ridding the Emerald Isle of snakes (Some say it never had snakes, and the legend grew from Patrick’s battles with the Druids.), or even using the shamrock to illustrate the mystery of the Trinity.

What I remember is that he was kidnapped from Britain as a teenager, taken as a slave to Ireland where he tended sheep for six years, retuned to his homeland and chose to return to the place of his captivity to bring the Good News. Would that we all could be so forgiving of slights and hurts in our lives. Patrick saw the need for someone to share faith in Jesus Christ to the people of Ireland, but it did not have to be him.

Forgiving someone who hurts you is difficult enough, but to go beyond that and to do good for that person, takes heart. Patrick must have had a big one. One that was filled not only with compassion, but also with the desire to share what he believed passionately

I have included a link to what is probably the most well-known prayer attributed to him, The Breastplate of St. Patrick. It is most often quoted in an abridged form. Here you can read it in its entirety. It is also called “Lorica of Saint Patrick.” In Christian monastic tradition, a Lorica was an incantation or prayer of protection, and the word can be translated “breastplate.”

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!
© 2011 Mary van Balen

(U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Matthew M. Bradley/Released)
When in Creation

When in creation life is lost, the powers of God seem weak.
When young and old are swept away by rivers in the streets,
We seek the wisdom that ordained the sun to rule the day,
and pray to God that lives be saved and hope will find a way.

Where is the goodness of our God when seas force life to die?
Where is the powerful love of God when people hurt and cry?
Lord, how your wonders are displayed, wher e’er I turn my eye,
O God, our help in ages past, be with the world today.

from: © Tommy Shephard (26 December 2004) published by the United Methodist Church, Board of Discipleship

Some images coming out of Japan are too painful to look at for long. Unimaginable suffering. In the face of such tragedy, prayer seems inadequate.

Thinking of Psalms of Lament, I spoke with Kathryn Rickert, a friend who is an adjunct professor at Seattle University who has made a study of the Biblical prayer of lament and asked about our faith response in such times.

“Part of the problem…. from where we are safe and sound in the USA, is that we can’ t actually lament
unless we see ourselves in the disaster with the people of Japan. From this distance, we are praying for them. To pray for is not the same as to lament with.”

Those of us not in the midst of the unfolding catastrophe in Japan still have lamenting to do. Such events call into question faith in a good God. We struggle to accept the randomness of such a natural disaster. It reveals our vulnerability as well as that of the Japanese people.

Kathryn suggested a song, written as a response to the tsunami and earthquake of December 26, 2004, in memory of the thousands of people who lost their lives.

“…We are actually lamenting our own questions about the disaster,rather than crying out in the first person, near to the destruction,” she said.

I offer the song as a way of giving voice to questions that disturb our sense of fairness and shake our faith. We cry out to God, “Where were you?” “How can this happen?” “What will come next?” “What can happen to me?”
Nothing seems sure when nature itself seems to turn against us.

As in the Psalms of lament, this song ends with an expression of faith that despite feeling abandoned, God is with us and will give us strength and refuge as we face our own “darkest hour,” whenever and wherever that is.

Let us join our prayer with the prayers of the world for those suffering in Japan. Let us face our fears, and pray, too, for all people on this planet who watch what is happening and realize that we are one people on a common journey fraught with pain and struggle that we cannot understand. May we find comfort and hope in the Pascal mystery we are preparing to celebrate.

Jesus, hanging on the cross, gave voice to his anguish: Why have you abandoned me? Jesus rose in glory.

©2011 Mary van Balen

When in Creation

When in creation life is lost, the powers of God seem weak.
When young and old are swept away by rivers in the streets,
We seek the wisdom that ordained the sun to rule the day,
and pray to God that lives be saved and hope will find a way.

Where is the goodness of our God when seas force life to die?
Where is the powerful love of God when people hurt and cry?
Lord, how your wonders are displayed, wher e’er I turn my eye,
O God, our help in ages past, be with the world today.

How can the glory of our God be known through tragedy
When water, rock and sand be made to kill humanity?
While all that borrows life from you is ever in your care,
O God where were you on that day when darkness shook our sphere?

When in creation life is lost, we turn to God for peace,
And seek the one who came to serve the greatest and the least,
O Christ whose presence comes to us in the Spirit’s flowing power,
Abide with us and give us strength to face life’s darkest hour.
© Tommy Shephard

(The text incorporates lines from Isaac Watts’ 1715 text “I Sing the Mighty Power of God”)