Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 29, 2024
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Franciscan
Would that all the people of the LORD were prophets. Would that the LORD might bestow his spirit on them all!
In his 50 plus years of teaching and preaching, Kansas-born Franciscan friar and ecumenical teacher Richard Rohr has balanced an active and contemplative life. But although he often appreciates and credits other writers and theologians, he rarely speaks much about himself. Here is a bit of confessional autobiography which I appreciate very much.
I am just like you. My immediate response to most situations is with reactions of attachment, defensiveness, judgment, control, and analysis. I am better at calculating than contemplating. Let’s admit that most of us start there. The false self seems to have the “first gaze” at almost everything.
The decree of the Lord is trustworthy, giving wisdom to the simple.
On my better days, when I am open, undefended, and immediately present, I can sometimes begin with a contemplative mind and heart. Often I can get there later and even end there, but it is usually a second gaze. It is an hour-by-hour battle, at least for me. I can see why so many spiritual traditions insist on daily prayer, in fact, morning, midday, evening, and before we go to bed prayer too! Otherwise, I can assume that I am back in the cruise control of small and personal self-interest, the pitiable and fragile “richard” self.
Though your servant is careful of them, very diligent in keeping them, yet who can detect failings? Cleanse me from my unknown faults!
My Franciscan tradition and superiors have allowed me in these later years to live alone, in a little “hermitage” behind the friary and parish. When I am home, I am able to protect long hours of silence and solitude each day, which I fill with specific times of prayer, study, journaling and writing, spiritual reading, gardening, walking, and just gazing. It is a luxury that most folks probably do not have. My time on the road, which is often as much as 50% of the time, is much harder to balance, and probably more like your life.
On a practical level, my at-home day is two extremes: both very busy (visitors and calls, counselees, work at the CAC, mail, writing, and some work at Holy Family parish) yet on the opposite side, my life is very quiet and alone. I avoid most social gatherings, frankly because I know my soul has other questions to ask and answer as I get older. Small talk and “busyness about many things” will not get me there.
Our practice, whatever it is, must somehow include the problem. Contemplation is not the avoidance of the problem, but a daily merging with the problem, and finding some resolution. We quickly and humbly learn this lesson in contemplation: How we do anything is probably how we do everything.
Whoever is not against us is for us. Anyone who gives you a cup of water to drink because you belong to Christ will surely not lose his reward.
It’s taken me much of my life to begin to get to the second gaze. By nature, I have a critical mind and a demanding heart, and I am impatient. These are both my gifts and my curses. Yet I can’t have one without the other, it seems. I can’t risk losing touch with either my angels or my demons. They are both good teachers. A life of solitude and silence allows them both, and invariably leads me to the second gaze. The gaze of compassion, looking out at life from the place of Divine Intimacy is really all I have, and all I have to give, even though I don’t always do it.
Your word, O Lord, is truth; consecrate us in the truth.
(Numbers 11, Psalm 19, James 5, John 17, Mark 9)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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