Today’s Feast of the Transfiguration challenges us to remember we, too, are Beloved of God. Moreover, as followers of Jesus we are called to listen to him and act accordingly.
Over a decade ago, I made this prayer video, set to the song Transfiguration by Indie singer songwrote Sufjan Stevens. As I prayed with it this morning, I was caught by his repetition of the phrase “Lost in the cloud…”
Lost in the cloud, a voice. Have no fear! We draw near! Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Turn your ear. Lost in the cloud, a voice. Lamb of God! We draw near! Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Son of God!
We can get lost in the cloud. The cloud of indifference. The cloud of division. The cloud of misinformation. The cloud of …. insert that which separates us from God’s love. And yet, we are called to LISTEN to the Beloved. We are called to Be Loved. We are called to Be Love.
As we hear in today’s reading from the second letter of Saint Peter (1:19):
“You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
Let us remember and transform the clouds of our lives into light and love and goodness, strengthened by the Source of every Good thing.
I finish my few days of retreat today, grateful for the blessing and opportunity of this time of solitude, prayer, and reflection.
In the words of our CSJP Constitutions:
“Recognizing gospel peace as both gift and task, we believe that prayer is fundamental to our life. …
In unity with the church and with all of creation we give praise and thanks to the Giver of all gifts. We open ourselves to the liberating power of God whose Spirit in us leads to peace.
Personal prayer deepens our desire to be united with God in faith, enabling us to see God’s presence and action in our lives and in the world.”
So much had happened since my annual retreat last October, good and bad, challenging and encouraging, and everything in between … in my own life, my life in community, and our wider world. There is so much to pray for and with! It is pure gift to have the ability to take time away in solitude with God’s love and mercy. Such a gift also carries responsibility, which I do not take lightly.
I have held in prayer many these days, those I promised to pray for, those I know, and many I do not. I know too I have been held in prayer. Again, such gift.
I have been so aware of God’s love these days away, love beyond measure. In the words of the song My Belovedby Eliza King (a soundtrack of sorts for this retreat), I have been “leaning on my beloved.”
Graced with time by the ocean, going on long walks and just sitting by the sea, I have been so aware of the gifts of creation given freely by the One who loved us into being, the healing power of Christ who became one of us, and the persistent presence of the Spirit nudging us into wholeness.
God is so good, and so are we. May we remember that in good times as well as the more challenging times. May we be people of peace and reflect God’s love, mercy, and care for all of God’s creation. Amen.
There is much to fear in this world of ours. War between and polarization within countries. Violence in our streets and in our homes. Poverty, disease, the list could go on and on, and those are just the big ones. We all have our own “little fears,” anxieties, worries that keep us up at night or afraid to start the day.
Today on Easter morning the church hears in the Gospel of Matthew (28) about fear and the Christian journey.
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and did him homage. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”
This Scripture passage has been very meaningful to me over the years, one that I return to again and again. Fearful yet overjoyed covers so beautifully the butterflies in my stomach feeling I felt at various stages of my vocation journey. Fearful, because, well, I’m me. Overjoyed because, well, I’m responding to the God who loves me by opening my own heart in service of God and God’s people.
We are human and might have reasons to be fearful. Yet we also find joy on the journey that compels us to be of service and about the mission of God. And it is then, we hear today, that Jesus is present, encouraging and sustaining his friend (and us), telling us to not be afraid.
“The Church relives the amazement of the women who went to the tomb at dawn on the first day of the week. The tomb of Jesus had been sealed with a great stone. Today too, great stones, heavy stones, block the hopes of humanity: the stone of war, the stone of humanitarian crises, the stone of human rights violations, the stone of human trafficking, and other stones as well. Like the women disciples of Jesus, we ask one another: “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” (cf. Mk 16:3).
This is the amazing discovery of that Easter morning: the stone, the immense stone, was rolled away. The astonishment of the women is our astonishment as well: the tomb of Jesus is open and it is empty! From this, everything begins anew! A new path leads through that empty tomb: the path that none of us, but God alone, could open: the path of life in the midst of death, the path of peace in the midst of war, the path of reconciliation in the midst of hatred, the path of fraternity in the midst of hostility.”
May we astonish one another in hope and love as we seek to roll away the stones that keep us from the goodness of God and one another
As we say in our CSJP Constitutions: “Strengthened by the Risen Christ, we go forth in peace to continue the work of love and service.”
In today’s reading from Hosea we hear: “I will heal their defection, says the Lord, / I will love them freely.”
God loves freely. We who are made in the image and likeness of God are called to do no less.
In the words of this song by Joy Ike (Wearing Love).
Slow your breathing No more scheming Quit competing Just love
Silly humans that we are though, we limit our God given ability to love, whether it is ourselves, those who annoy us, those who hurt us, those we disagree with, those we just don’t particularly like.
Jesus reiterates this central call to love in today’s Gospel (Mark 12):
One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.”
Love God. Love neighbor. Love yourself.
Freely and with our whole heart, soul, mind and strength.
As Joy Ike sings in her song: “All that works is the love that you bring.”
On this second Sunday of Lent, we hear the words of God, coming through the clouds: “This is my Beloved Son; listen to Him.”
Transfiguration (Jesus MAFA, Cameroon)
Moses and Elijah were apparently there on the mountain, and Jesus had already been Transfigured, his clothes a dazzling white. Understandable then that this freaked Peter, James, and John out just a bit. Or, as Mark writes, terrified them, so much so that Peter nervously started talking about building tents for the three. (Peter’s fumbling always makes me feel better.)
That is when the cloud appears and God’s voice can be heard. Seeing the light emanating from Jesus was not enough. So God made it clear for them (us). Jesus is his beloved. Listen to him. And then they saw him. Just him. Alone. With them. Their friend and rabbi who was also the beloved Son of God. They still didn’t quite get it, but they stayed with what it might mean.
“Here is the message: never divert your eyes from the light of Jesus. … This is what we Christians are called to do in the journey of life, always keep before our eyes the radiant face of Christ.”
What keeps us from seeing the light of Christ, ever present in our midst? What keeps us unable to BE the light of Christ for others? Can we echo Gos’s voice, reminding ourselves and others that we too are beloved children of God?
Pope Francis offered a tip for us all during these times, where shadows of darkness are also present and our woundedness, anxiety, and fear can prevent us from seeing the good also and always present in our midst if we but look for it:
“Here is a good resolution for Lent: cultivate open gazes, become ‘seekers of light,’ seekers of the light of Jesus, in prayer and in people.”
As I was praying with this Gospel and the Pope’s words this morning, I was reminded of a video prayer I made over a decade ago set to The Transfiguration by Sufjan Stevens.
Let us not be lost in the cloud, distracted by our fears. May we look out for the light and be the light for others.
The story of the Holy Family is alive and well today and will continue long into the future. For Christians, the Holy Family is our family. Pope Leo XIII asserts that this divine household “contained within its limits the scarce-born Church.” Mary, mother of Jesus, is the mother of all Christians. Jesus Christ is our brother. And Joseph, our foster father, “the Blessed Patriarch looks upon the multitude of Christians who make up the Church as confided specially to his trust, this limitless family spread over the earth … It is, then, natural and worthy that as the Blessed Joseph ministered to all the needs of the family at Nazareth and girt it about with his protection, he should now cover the cloak of his heavenly patronage and defend the Church of Jesus Christ.”
We are part of a limitless family. No matter our own experiences of family—nuclear, extended, or chosen—as Christians we are part of the family of God, a limitless family spread over the earth. And Joseph, who first was called to his role by the message of an angel, is there for us when we need him, ready to spread his cloak of mighty love around us, guiding us, comforting us, and protecting us as members of this limitless family of love.
Prayer for Families
St. Joseph, pray for us, your limitless family, bound together in love. Be with all families in good times and bad. Take special care of families separated for whatever reason. Defend us from ourselves, from our growing pains and insecurities, our hurts and complex family dynamics. Share our joy at new life and the promise of tomorrow. Be our comfort in times of trouble, and our guide always. Teach us your way of mighty love for our human family and daily care for Earth, our common home. St. Joseph, husband of Mary and father of Jesus, pray for us. Amen
This week on retreat, I spent a lot of time walking in the nearby woods and meandering on the grounds at St. Raphaela Retreat Center.
This week I also discovered a new hauntingly beautiful song called In Everything by Paper Horses, a singer songwriter supergroup made up of Jess Ray, Sandra McCracken, Taylor Leonhart, and Leslie Jordan. These four artists, individually, are often the soundtrack for my prayer. Together, well, just take a listen in this video prayer I made matching some of my photos and videos from my walks to their song.
Yesterday I had the opportunity to watch the opera Dead Man Walking performed at the Meteopolitan Opera House in New York.
The story and witness of Sister Helen Prejean is familiar to me. I have read her memoir and of course saw the movie. On a personal note, when I was sharing my surprising news of becoming a Catholic Sister, she was a helpful reference point. More than once I found myself saying, “Think more Susan Sarandon in Dead Man Walking than Sally Field in Flying Nun,” especially to my non-Catholic friends.
I have also met Sister Helen, several years ago, when she spoke at an event for one of our CSJP sponsored ministries and I have heard her talk several times. I was delighted to discover that the Opera does justice to her sense of humor. I have long thought that her sense of humor must be part of what keeps her going in her ministry as an advocate to stop the death penalty.
Yesterday afternoon, absorbed in the Opera, I also saw depicted what I also suspect is part of what keeps her going … being part of a community.
From the very beginning of the Opera, she is supported and challenged by her religious sisters, from her decision to visit an inmate on death row she has been writing all the way through the heartache of accompanying him to his final breath. There is one scene at the beginning of Act II, pictured above, where one of her sisters hears Helen cry out in a nightmare and comes to check on her. Their duet is lovely and real and grounded in the charism of the Sisters of St Joseph of Medaille to serve the dear neighbor. Sister Rose neighbors her friend Helen. More than that, she shares the journey with her sister and friend in a very real way.
You can feel as Sister Helen takes the next heart breaking steps of the journey with Joseph, the man on death row, that she brings the strength from her community with her. She builds a relationship with Joe, as she calls him. She neighbors him.
We have a saying in our community, where one of us ministers, we are all there. This depiction of Sister Helen’s story, the combination of the beautiful music and the creative if stark staging and incredible performances somehow made this clear. Even when it was only Sister Helen on stage with the warden or the priest or Joe, or with the victims’ parents, I could sense her sense that she was not alone. God was with her, and so were her sisters.
To be honest, despite the costume choice (all the sisters were wearing the same drab gray dress rather than the clothes of the day Sister Helen and the CSJs actually wear), the opera was one of the best expressions of apostolic religious life lived in community I have ever seen in art.
At the Corner of Susan and St. Joseph 