"You are my longing, Lord."

Psalm 20 (21) "You have granted him his heart's desire; you have not refused the prayer of his lips."
"May the Lord answer in time of trial; may the Lord grant all your prayers." When we engage with God in prayer for release from whatever troubles us, be it our own or perhaps someone else's problem, what is the answer we seek? Or are we simply looking and expecting deliverance? The difficulty with this approach to prayer - expecting what we want - is the tendency to discount what God wants in the matter. Hard as it may sometimes be to accept, the temptation or trial whatever it may be is still a fact of life. Unless we can change it ourselves, can we not assume God most likely has something to do with the matter.
"Apart from sin", Augustine said, "whatever you have comes from him".
Our prayer, like everything else that is "us", comes from God: all our longing is God. Any reluctance to acknowledge this, that God does indeed have "something to do with it", evidences our basic unbelief, our lack of faith; part of the evil that exists the world is the absence of real faith stemming from the human heart. "Your will be done" simply comes to mean, "my will be done".
In another psalm "a man who trusts in the Lord" turns his prayer into a "Lament", an expression of deep-felt sorrow: "how long, O lord, will you forget me? How long must I bear grief in my soul, this sorrow in my heart day and night?" Where are you, God? he seems to be asking.
But prayer is not only about grief or sorrow. It is also about rejoicing. "May we ring out our joy at your victory and rejoice in the name of our God." Rejoicing and praising God, regardless of circumstances and despite the way he felt in his heart (often moved to bitter tears and anger), the psalmist discovered the truth that "praise is fitting for loyal hearts"; "I will thank my God", or "I will love you, Lord, my strength", are typical responses to the goodness of God. Praise is the universal balm that consoles the soul. God is good.
Our faith is continually put to the test: "tried as silver is tried" ("silver" in Scripture, incidentally, is a symbol of faith), and God does not withhold his love in any circumstance. God's goodness reaches to the humble of heart; the over-confident need not be so sure.
"Knowledge" of God is our reward for this faithfulness: in simplicity, in sharing the sufferings as well as the joys of others. Peace.
Lord, God, you are all I want.
You are with all, for all, and in all.
You are all my desiring, as well:
living, acting, praying, prompting, sustaining.
You are near me so long as I am near you.
Draw near, my soul, draw near.

OUR GOD COMES!

"Let the heavens rejoice and earth be glad . . . all the trees of the wood shout for joy at the presence of the Lord for he comes, he comes to rule the earth . . . with justice; he will judge the peoples with his truth." Psalm 95 (96)
Who is it that comes? Comes for what? And When? But first, consider why he comes, then how and the "who", the "what for" and the "when" may become clearer.
According to the scriptures, Jesus - God "made flesh" - said: "the Son of man came to seek and save the lost" (Luke 19:10); also, we read "I stand at the door and knock; if any hear my voice and opens the door, I will come into him and eat with him, and he with me." (Rev. 3:20).
We are told in the Gospels that when Jesus entered Jericho a man was there named Zacchaeus, anxious to see him. It seems Jesus was just as anxious to see him: "Zacchaeus", he called to him, "come down" (small of stature, Zacchaeus had climbed a tree to get a better view), "hurry, because I must stay at your house today". Why, if not to share a meal, sit with him and talk with him so that Zaccheaus could find out for himself "what kind of man" Jesus was?
We are also told that Zacchaeus didn't wait for a second offer but "hurried down and welcomed him joyfully". So, a meal was shared - and we can only surmise - a victory, too! (Cf. Rev. 3:21).
It may be his knocking, or his calling out to us, or simply something that stirs our curiosity, but either way when a deep desire to know more about "the Son of man" - God's Son - is born in us, he makes us an offer too good to refuse because this is what leads to faith. The "who" and the "what for?" are questions only answered after the Lord is joyfully welcomed (our goodwill evidences this); and then, taking time to sit down to "listen" and to "talk" with him (both the ingredients of prayer), to find out what kind of person Jesus is.
But another question arises: when does he come? He comes twice. He has already come in the form of the Gospel message which we have "Heard, seen and touched", a message which proclaims a "second" coming ("and then will appear the Son of man coming in the clouds"). First, he ascended in a cloud, but then he will come again in "clouds"; a mystery? That's no reason to dismiss the idea.
Saint Augustine said his first coming was the proclamation of the 'good news' that the whole earth is filled with his presence. "We must not resist his first coming, and then we shall not have cause to dread his second coming. The fact that he has not come yet (i.e., again) is no reason to think he will not come. He will come, but when it will be you do not know. If he finds you ready, it is no disadvantage that you do not know".
"Readiness" is what the Christian life of faith is all about. Because the Lord, God, comes to judge the earth with justice and the peoples with truth, we are ready when our life is predicated on justice - right living - (guided by the Lord's precepts of love and mercy), founded in truth. We have to be honest with ourselves, of course, and have a good conscious before God.
Our greatest enemy is fear. The world enslaves us, spiritually, mentally, emotionally, but as Augustine advised, we "should make use of the world and not be its slave".
Many have found a dynamic opennessto both the gospel message, which is as much about our neighbour as it is about God, and to the "comforter", the Holy Spirit whom God sends to be near us, to live within us and to guide us on our journey. 'Letting go' our preconceived ideas, our prejudices, all the barriers that prevent us from hurrying to welcome him joyfully, this may be all that is necessary to open up the world of faith to our eyes. It is freeedom. It is joy. It is peace. Let us hurry to admit Christ into our lives.

A SEASON OF ADVENT

Such Gracious Words

"All wondered at the gracious words that proceeded from his mouth" Luke 4: 22.

What was it about our Lord's words that made them so "gracious"; that made people "wonder" at them? Look anywhere in the Scriptures, better still, search the Scriptures, and the reason becomes readily apparent. Consider the words of the psalmist (Psalm 17 [18]): "You, O Lord, are my lamp, my God who lightens my darkness". Are these not the most gracious of words?

However, such a kind and friendly tone is not generally reflected in this psalm: a quality of implied mercy is not so apparent when we read: that the Lord thunders in the heavens to let his voice be heard - he's shouting! - and not so appealing "the waves of death", "torrents of destruction", "snares of the grave" and "traps of death". Worse is to come when we read that "the foundations of the world" are to be left naked "at the thunder of your threat, at the blast of . . . your anger". Violence beyond imagination!

How appropriate is all this violent imagery to reflect the voice of a kind and loving God? We might want to exonerate God from such designs on his creation by transferring responsibility to a disturbed mind simply getting it all off his chest in a classic rage. We might also risk missing the point, or rather ignoring a spiritual truth that involves a truthful assessment of the state of our own mind, an examination of our heart in our relationship with God. There are far more reassuring words to follow in this psalm, ones that I can ill afford to miss: "He brought me forth into freedom, he saved me because he loved me". Ah, the calm after the storm?

The note of urgency that characterises the strong words, the call to be ready for the worst that is to come, seems more appropriate to an approaching tropical cyclone, earthquake or calamitous flood than any mere spiritual exercise. It satisfies me to think about "spiritual readiness" or quiet preparation for "listening" to the sacred texts because there is at the very least a hint here of the psalmist's discovery - his secret - that "the Lord is worthy of all praise". Disposed to listening, I believe he (or she) is showing me the way I too can be guided in my understanding of how God acts in my life.

A Season of Advent

Advent I: "Let us adore the Lord, the king who is to come"

Preamble:

These are private meditations with the Advent Season in mind. It has long been my practice to make notes whilst reading the Scriptures, a habit that helps crystallize the thoughts suggested by the text, making the words part of my own prayer. The word of the Lord thereby comes alive, perhaps as it lived for the author of the Song of Soloman when he wrote: "when he spoke my heart melted"; or for St John of the Cross: "God's speech is the effect he produces in the soul". Reading Psalmody through the course of a month provides a frame-work for meditation and, mostly, my rough jottings have only occasionally been re-written as a formal essay such as those that follow here. The psalms and other references are from the Divine Office for Advent, through to the celebration of Epiphany.

There is no conscious attempt here to produce a theology of Advent. These are personal reflections, simply that which helps me enter deeper into the wonder and inspiration of the Advent Season. As a believer, of course, my thinking is always informed by the theologies absorbed over the coarse of a life-time. Psalm quotations are from The Grail*, a Singing Version "arranged to the psalmody of Joseph Gelineau", and the psalm numbering follows the Greek Septuagint numeration which generally differs from the Hebrew as in the Authorized Version, shown (where applicable) in brackets.

*A translation from the original Hebrew text which "allows the translator to stay close this unique literary form, with its repetition of words, its own peculiar images, its stylistic peculiarities and its poetic rhythm". From "A new Translation Singing Version" - Collins Liturgical Australia, 1990).

HOW GREAT YOU ARE!

Psalm 102 (103)"The Lord is compassion and love, slow to anger and rich in mercy. His wrath will come to an end; he will not be angry forever. He does not treat us according to our sins nor repay us according to our faults.

"But the love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who hold him in fear; his justice reaches out to children's children when they keep his covenant in truth, when they keep his will in mind."

In these few words I can recognize a call to emulate our Lord in his life of goodness and virtue, practicing those things which lead us deeper into the love and knowledge of God. It means, among other things, refusing to let myself become caught up in the world's madness, it's contempt for spiritual values and ignorance of the things of God who is the beginning and end of all things.

Motivated by fear, how easy it would be to turn myself into his/her enemy; to silence that gnawing doubt by concentrating on my own needs and desires to the exclusion of all others.

Ignoring God as inner presence, driving the thought of him from my mind in search of material satisfactions, would amount to contempt for spiritual things; to abandon myself to the mindless futility of it all. I know the path God has chosen for me is never going to be easy, the only certainty being the knowledge it is the only path I can take if I am to know anything of the peace God only gives. Spiritual instability, even distress, is simply part of "the way" before the Lord shows me his face. Spiritual readiness, a disposition towards listening, seems to be the secret of the psalmist's conclusion that "the Lord is worthy of all praise".

Following in his footsteps, I too must be guided to this understanding of the way God acts, and will continue to act, in my life. By reflecting on the words meditated, contrasting the more negative or darker thoughts of the psalm as they come with the psalmist's more positive ideas and images; letting harsh-sounding words heighten the impact of Scripture's more gracious words (literal meanings aside), my soul is nourished with "food for the road".

It seems clear that the psalmist's first efforts were to listen and to search his heart; to discover the truth about himself, facing up to his inner, spiritual situation which often left much to be desired. Like me, he was not always thinking nice, constructive thoughts! The psalmist's self-honesty can be startling, but then, perhaps God was not so distant from his spirit as I often feel he is from me. Remote as he probably seemed at times, his God was within, and very near: "close beside you, with you, within you" is an ancient, universal principle, restated by Jesus when he said "the kingdom of God is within you".

A personal commitment to the Christian life of faith, to keeping a good conscience and a desire that in all things God's will might "be done", as also a willingness to forgive as I am forgiven, all these things point in the same direction: with the psalmist, to say "With you I can break through any barrier, with my God I can scale any wall".

The Milanese Rose Garden

I'm thinking
Now
Just thinking, how clever you were,
So young
To relish the music of a word in your own way.
Well, nothing really.
Yet all that needed to be said, was said
As a silent prayer.
Roses freshly dewed and a child's insistent voice
Answered indecision:
A burning love and pure resolve
Was born
In a walled garden.

(The story of Augustine of Hippo's conversion to Christianity when hearing a child chanting scripture in a rose garden in Milan, is part of Augustine's book, "Confessions"). 

Somewhere

Remember all the disarray

Of cobweb years,

Time too heavy with discontent?

Try rather think

Of those whose prayers,
Fragile fragments

Swept aloft,

Feathers caught in upward currents

Time and place unbound.

Not surprising

That a million memories,
Still survive

Although none worthy
To represent the years

With dignity.

Perhaps, or not at all,
Mere monuments to struggle

Suspended between between fence and tree

I saw again this morning

Dew-laden gossamer
A million jewels;

How fragile, how pure!

By evening, blown away.

All those yesterdays are no more?
I beg to differ!

Time past coalesces with time future

At a still point

Between thought and no thought, action and inaction.

All deeds are now.

Voices from another room have little impact here:

Bees swarm instinctively, obediently,

Mists soon evaporate and they are driven home.

I longed for you so long ago,

Before intervening years silenced your voice

And poverty of memory veiled your face.

Fast memories, yours and mine,

Appear again but not the same.

I wonder.

Time does not heal the wounds you left behind,

But that's irrelevant.

Except now, as then,

I see the wood, the sacred wood called trust.

Somewhere:

I know somewhere,

Or, perhaps not all; yet in some lonely place,

A bottom drawer

Or on a rubbish heap,

Could there be thngs left behind

Sacred to you and me?

I wonder.

Somewhere, insistent and too beautiful to fear,

Your face will tell it all,

And having seen that Resurrection Morn,

Only dimly now, but then, face to face . . .

Just you and me.