The Patience of the Gardener

Anyone familiar with fig trees knows that the seeds of the fruit can easily germinate in the ground after being blown in the wind or being carried off by hungry birds. The seedling appears in the oddest places in one's yard but once it is rooted well in decent soil it quickly shoots up in size. From today's Gospel passage the fig tree is the focal point as a conversation between a gardener and an orchard owner assess the usefulness of tree that does not bear fruit. For me the passage provides a striking example of God's mercy and patience with sinners. As a gardener, God allow provides the fertilizer of love and patience even in our darkest hours. Each granule of fertilizer is allowed to dissolve and provide sustenance even though it is no longer visible.

As a sinner I can  recall  all too easily the times where I as the fig tree was withered, practically dead and yet in his infinite mercy, the soil of my soul was cultivated, worked, and the weeds were removed so that I could further grown. The gardener replies to the frustrated owner that time should be allowed for work around the tree and if it then does not bear fruit it can be cut down. I would like to think that God never will give up on me.  However, I see myself as the owner in many cases with my interactions with others.  My patience as with the soil is exhausted.  Perhaps God has a plan that I as the impatient owner am not aware of.  If only I had the fortitude of the gardener, willing to spend some time working the soil and providing fertilizer so the fig tree could be fruitful. As a gardener myself,  I value the time working the soil, removing the weeds and clustered seedlings so that fruit can be prolific.  I pray that I have the same compassion and love towards others.

I can hope that I could be ready as Moses and recognize that God is present in the flaming bush as well and respond, "Here I am," then readily spread the fig seed so that it may sprout on the fertile soil of others. Likewise,  if I am to take today's Scripture passages seriously as Paul warn's us, I should never assume that I stand on solid ground of my own, but realize that the fig tree of life, the risen Christ is my foundation.

The Sounds of Spring

If you live near a baseball field that is in frequent use you are familiar with the sound of a well-hit ball coming off an aluminum bat. I happen to hear this often.  It is a sweet sound as one can envision the ball shooting off the batter's well-timed swing as it travels to it's destination in the outfield. At the same time working outside I also hear the birds chirping loudly in the breeze, singing their song of the delight in the afternoon stillness.

This all comes in the silence of the midday when I retreat outside.  It is the time when as the last words of the Gospel today mentions that Peter, James and John fell silent as they found Jesus alone. The voice of God saying, "This is my beloved Son; listen to him" had disappeared with Elijah and Moses.  Silence sometimes so deafening it causes us to reach instantly for a cell phone, turn on the TV, or find something to fill the void.  Yet this is not what God wants.  Hearing the sounds of the ball connecting with bat and the birds chirping is God.  These are God's creations. Yes these are all things good. Art Garfunkel is quoted in his explanation about the song, Sounds of Silence, that the song is about people's inability to communicate (Eliot, Marc (2010).  Although this seems quite true in our society of noise, I prefer listening to God in the silence of day and say "Praise be to the Lord Jesus Christ, Son of everliving God and  creator of all that is good."

Mountain Climbing

As a child living in valley Northern California we were surrounded by mountains on the west, east and north. One year my father took my brother and myself to climb Mt. Lassen which was at 10, 641 feet of elevation. The trek from the parking area to the peak took around three hours. Some of the trail was treacherous with a narrow path and loose rocks. Nevertheless as young boys it did not seem to bother us.  The view was magnificent when we  neared the top of the summit as we could see the Sacramento Valley below it is vastness, along with Mt. Shasta to the north and the Sierra Nevada range to the south.  Glorious one might say. The struggle was worth it and the sight one that a person would want to capture and hold forever.  So it was with Peter, James, and John.  Wanting to build a booth and capture the moment with Jesus on the mountain. But as with a picture capturing the moment high on the mountain, one which any climber can identify with, life itself is not just on top of the mountain.

It is much deeper,  it is about our own humanity and the transfiguration that takes place when one unconditionally surrenders to the will of God. Today's Gospel passage prompts us to reflect on prayer, dazzling beauty, law and tradition, sleep, clouds, a voice, and finally silence.  We can only come to Jesus when we pray and even though our prayer may be fractured and distracted just like the world below the mountains, we are connected in some way.

In our humanity we may not see the beauty of the Lord as Peter, James and John, but I am sure the Lord grace radiates in many us. Connected with Moses and Elijah through our traditions we faithfully carry out our life in a Christian manner. Overcome by the burdens of our daily existence we become weary and tired.  Clouds of despair can cause us to waiver as we climb the mountain of life, but as we ascend these clouds are transfigured, radiating brightly to reveal the voice echoing "follow my Son, listen to my Son, for you also are my chosen ones." We are at the proverbial peak on the mountaintop.  Silence usually follows a life changing moment as one is caught in the moment, unsure what to say, what action to take. Thus on the top of the mountain we come back to the silence of prayer and reflection on the glory and grace of God, the sending of his Son to redeem us and the gratitude for being chosen.

Forty

WHAT IS UP WITH FORTY?

So what is with forty? Kickoffs at most levels of football are placed at the forty yard line because the ball typically will travel to an area near the end zone if struck properly. Speed limits are set at forty in many areas.  In our society we are faced with midlife crisis that can begin at the age of forty according to Eliot Jacques, the Canadian psychoanalyst who coined the phrase midlife crisis.  It is a time where one might face mental instability, health problems and a myriad of other issues.  This is not to say that these events do not happen before or much later than forty. Torah and Talmud scholars refer to the number 40 is as a time of change and renewal. From a biblical standpoint forty is much used benchmark from Moses residence in Egypt to his wandering in the desert. Today we first hear of Noah's forty days on the ark and God's covenant with his people and then in today's Gospel we read of Jesus forty days in the desert and the temptations he faced.

MY STRUGGLES WITH FORTY

Forty days without food! I struggle with just the idea of having to fast for a blood test. All the references aside, I find that the forty days of Lent are a time of year where I typically draw closer to God than any other time of the year.  For the most part each day is spent with extra time for prayer. Perhaps adding an extra forty minutes to reflect on Scripture passages or do more spiritual reading is in order.

More importantly I am drawn to this time as it allows me to face myself and every defect that I might be carrying.  Each of the forty days it seems that the Spirit is awakened me in some sense as I face temptations to judge, condemn, and gravitate towards the worldly callings of materialism, power, and consumption. I become more aware of my human brokenness in rationalizing what is fasting.  Why am I more aware now then the rest of the year? Do I tend to forgot the Gospel message to love and be merciful? Perhaps it is the idea that Lent was purposefully intended to no longer draw upon human strength, but to find God in everything and every temptation, to renew oneself in order to joyfully welcome the Resurrection of the Lord without the baggage of our humanity.

Drawing on the faith that Jesus had during this time is a healthy reflection. As Mark states, "He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him." (Mk 1:12) I find that I must tend my own wild beasts during this time as well as mentioned above and it active surrendering that I tame these temptations.

A BRIEF THOUGHT

In conclusion I have pondered if I tried to incorporate Lenten practices throughout the year, how much closer I would be to Jesus and the people around me. A post-Lenten progress report might be in order, but that is for another post.

Follow Me

What does it take to follow Jesus as Levi, Peter, James and John did when Jesus extended the invitation to his mission to them?  To this I have given much thought as I meditated on the readings since Ash Wednesday.  I receive daily e-mail  Lenten meditations every year and I find that these provide the little extra spiritual shot I need sometimes.  The Ash Wednesday meditation that provoked an insight that I have not considered came from Bishop Robert Barron entitled Into the Desert.  The reader in the first line is presented with the great figures of salvation history, from Abraham to David, in which each of these men had to go through a period of cleansing or trial before they could begin the work God commissioned them to implement.  After reading that, I realized that this applies to all of us, especially myself. I was not ready to carry out any type of work related to the mission until I had to surrender to  God my life. Many identify to these periods of trial and tribulation in which they come to God ready to unload the baggage they are carrying that prevents them from being the person God intended them to be.  For some that can be after years of attending church, but much like a blind person not seeing.  For others it can be a return back to the Church. Only then can one be ready.

What then follows can best be summed up in the various passages this week. In Paul's Letter to the Corinthians (5:20) we see the passage "In acceptable time I heard you,/and on the day of salvation I helped you." I look upon this and see these words as accurate in this sinner's life. I had to be ready and open to the Gospel before I could live my life as I do now.   In Thursday's Gospel passage we are asked to take up the cross daily. For me this requires to understand what my cross is which took quite a long time.  The ways of the world only brought pain, despair, and a hunger that can never be filled. On Friday we are asked to fast which is contradictory to the worldly message of consumption. It took me quite a while to understand that the emptiness of my stomach was actually a way to turn to God for sustenance.  No amount of food could ever provide what God does for me daily.

Today I find much solace in Isaiah's words, "Then the light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for like midday."  Moreover, in the recognition that I am sitting at the table with Levi, I am thankful that I have heard the call to follow. Strengthened by these passages and the beautiful readings that accompany the Lenten journey I find hope.   Today's Psalm's 86 states, "Incline you ear, O Lord, answer me for I am afflicted and poor." Words for me to always have by my side.  Blessings and may you have a joyous and rewarding Lent.

More on Fishing

It is amazing what the morning air and silence provokes.  As avid endurance cyclist on a long ride I was reflecting on my post about fishing this morning. I realized that the readings today are full of symbolism beyond my initial thoughts.   As a young child my father would take us out fishing and right away we were taught the difference between which hook to use, where to place the shot on the line and how to bait the hook.  For those unfamiliar with fishing, you have to use certain hooks for certain types of fish.  Regardless the fish hooks are full of barbs that can easily pierce the skin and bring out a small spot of blood. Thus the symbolism.

As we are asked to be fishers of men, we are faced with our own sin.  Do we have the courage like Isaiah and Peter to say yes? Moreover, fishing for men brings pain as we are faced with those that may hurt us with their own actions.  Blood flows sometimes in large amounts, sometimes it is a quick spurt and the pain is gone.

 On fishing trips with my father and brother I always wanted to catch the most fish.  Usually we had a competition  on who would catch the most and the largest fish.  Do we catch the big fish? Most likely not. However, if we reflect on the span of our lives there are times when we have been able to help others casting the net or line if you will, the impact of our goodness through the grace of God has filled the net. It is easy to dwell on the empty net, but remembering that it is God that ultimately guides the fish to the net, we are used as instruments,  the line, the hook, the bait, to fulfill the catch.

The Fishing Trip

"Woe is me, I am doomed! We have caught nothing" From these two phrases, the first from Isaiah and the second from Gospel of Luke, I find despair in the immediate moment of both events.  Life's tests and situations bring out the some of our worst emotional moments. I find myself looking back and  using the word doomed to apply on what might be considered a dismal, hopeless event.  Nothing is a word used loosely in society.  "What is wrong," one might ask another, only to hear the reply, "nothing." The reality there is something wrong.  Fishing can be  full of doom and nothing. What have I been fishing for in my life? Financial security, prestige, the best clothes and electronics? Peter's reply to Jesus resonates with me as I harken back to my childhood days when fishing on the local river or creek and an approaching fisherman would ask, "Have you caught anything?" The immediate curt response would be "nothing."

However, we are caught in the moment and many times do not see the chance to cast our lines elsewhere to the more rewarding catch.  Doomed I am when confronted with a stressful situation and perhaps more disturbing is how attitude is projected on others around me. Later upon reflection I see how the event has evolved to a rewarding experience much like that of Isaiah who in the state of despair and brokenness is cleansed.  More importantly is his response to the subsequent calling to serve the Lord.  Throughout my life I have felt unworthy of serving the Lord.  My sinfulness and human brokenness cause inner turmoil and yes, like Peter I wish the Lord would depart from me so that I can wallow in pain. Blinded by this I do not see the greater catch or opportunities that lie ahead, but instead am caught in the whirlpool of emotions that seem all consuming. Can something good come from the situation, the depths of turmoil? It is not for me to decide.

Taking both Isaiah's response and Jesus reply to Peter, my answer should be "Here I am. I am ready to leave behind the past, the fear, and go on the fishing trip." Knowing this I need to keep in mind that when my line becomes slack, the doom and nothingness that are obscured in the depths,  in many instances will become a greater catch by God's grace.

Escape

Living in our busy world in a challenge of great proportions. Bombarded by the buzz of social media and the demands of work, family and other obligations can sometimes be overwhelming. Reflecting on today's Gospel reading I find the solution in Jesus' words "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest for a while." Oh how would I like to find that place. No e-mail, phone calls, work demands and so on. But upon deeper study I realize that the place can be found in the solitude of prayer.  I do not have the ability to escape the world's beckoning by rowing a boat beyond the crowds, but with discipline and the desire to meet God where I am every day in prayer and meditation I find solitude.

Having attended Mass at Trappist monastery for many years as a youth I learned about the discipline of rising early for prayer.  I found this quite interesting that men would rise around three in the morning for prayer and the morning liturgy.  What was the draw?  Fast forward a few decades in which I also rise not quite as early, but with the same intent to meet God and to reflect in silence on daily scripture.  There is something about this time that attracts me.  There are a few sounds of birds chirping and once in a while of a neighbor leaving early to work, but this is the deserted place that I think Jesus was talking about.  Yes, I am at rest. Elisabeth Leseur in today's Magnificat reflection states that "To pray is to live in constant, calm, strong, and lasting union with God." (pg 91) It is here where on my couch I feel that unity with my Creator. although the worldly concerns sometimes attempt to overwhelm me in the silence, I have found that place away from the crowds. It is here that after many years of filling myself with noise and emptiness that I am home.