Providing Soul Space

Some years ago a woman by the name of Teresa came to talk to me about her experience of God.  She was carrying negative images of God.  For her, God was distant and demanding.  He was like a policeman watching to catch her doing something wrong.  He was also like a judge handing out sentences from on high.  Needless to say Teresa was frightened of God and because of this she was finding it difficult to pray.

After listening to Teresa I asked her if she would be willing to try a new way of praying.  I suggested that she spend ten minutes each day picturing in her mind what happened at the Baptism of Jesus. I invited her to do two things.  Firstly, to imagine what it was like for Jesus to hear God the Father say to him, “You are my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” Secondly, to imagine that God the Father is saying the very same words to her, “Teresa, you are my beloved daughter in whom I am well pleased.”  I asked her to notice what she was feeling as she heard God the Father telling her that he was pleased with her.

Three weeks later, Teresa came back to tell me how she was getting on.  She said she was beginning to experience God differently.  God was becoming easier to relate to.  Rather than feeling that God was disappointed with her, she was beginning to feel that God was in fact pleased with her. Indeed, she was starting to accept that God knew her personally and that he was involved in her life.

The baptism of Jesus took place when he was an adult and it was a very significant event in his life.  During his baptism Jesus had an overwhelming experience of unconditional love.  He knew he was God’s beloved Son.  He also knew that his Father took delight in him. 

What happened to Jesus at his baptism also happened to us at our baptism even though we were children and unaware of it.  As our parents held us over the baptismal font, God the Father said to each of us, “You are my beloved son/daughter in whom I am well pleased.”  Unfortunately, because of life’s negative experiences this is a truth many of us find difficult to accept.  Instead of believing in a loving and affirming God, we find ourselves believing in a demanding and judgemental God.  Like Teresa, we need to find a way of getting rid of our negative images of God and of taking possession of the real relationship, the loving relationship, which God has with each of us.  We need to find a way of claiming our belovedness.  Perhaps a prayer exercise like the one Teresa was willing to try can help us.

A few years ago I had a conversation with a man in his late thirties. He told me that many of his contemporaries had no real source of guidance in their lives. “They have no north star,” is the way he put it. It is certainly true that there is a breakdown of trust in our society. Many people have lost faith in the major institutions that have been the bedrock of our way of life. We are missing a moral compass and things like consumerism, individualism and the social media are filling the vacuum.

On the feast of the Epiphany, sometimes referred to as ‘little Christmas’, we meet three men known as the Magi who had the courage to follow a new star that appeared in the sky.  Their journey brought them to an unfamiliar place and to an unexpected discovery.  They found a child who had come into the world to offer its peoples guidance and hope.  So convinced were they of their discovery that their lives took a whole new direction and were given a new sense of purpose.  It is not surprising we are told that they returned home by a different route (see Matthew 2:1-12).

The truth is there is a moral compass to guide us.  We do have a ‘north star.’  This star is the person of Jesus discovered by the wise men in a stable in Bethlehem.  Jesus is the Word of God who came among us to speak the truth that sets us free. He is the Wise Man who inspires and guides us.  The teachings of Jesus provide us with meaning and give purpose and direction to our lives.    

Let’s not allow the failures of the Church and her ministers prevent us from hearing the message of Jesus.  The Church in her weakness may confuse and disappoint us, but Jesus will not.  He has words of comfort and hope, words that will change the way we see ourselves, other people and the world around us.  Peter once said to Jesus, “Lord, who else is there to go to; it is you who have the words of eternal life” (see John 6:68).  Jesus is still the only one who can offer us the message of eternal life. It is he who is our ‘north star.’

There is a story told about a child who woke up from a dream in the middle of the night frightened.  She was on her own so she cried out for protection.  Her mother who was in the bedroom next door heard her cry and immediately came to comfort her.  The mother tried to reassure her daughter that she was safe and that there was no reason for her to be frightened.  ‘Don’t you know that God is looking after you,’ she said. ‘Yes mammy I know God is looking after me,’ the child replied, ‘but tonight I need a God with skin on!’ 

Jesus was God with skin on.  People met God in the humanity of Jesus. This is what we are celebrating at Christmas; we call it the Incarnation. In Jesus, God became one of us; he became one with us. On that first Christmas night “The Word became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14). Jesus of Nazareth was the very human face of God, the person in whom God was met and known in the most concrete of ways.

Because Jesus was God with skin on, we are also God with skin on.  If God dwelt in the humanity of Jesus then God dwells in our humanity too.  What we are celebrating at Christmas is not just the extraordinary fact that God put on flesh in Jesus, but the even more extraordinary fact that we put flesh on God for each other.  This truth is poetically expressed in this little verse: “I sought my soul I could not see; I sought my God and He eluded me; I sought my neighbour and I found all three.”   In the tangible reality of our neighbour we meet God.  In the physical body of our neighbour we meet God. In the humanness of our neighbour we meet God. This is the implication of what happened on that first Christmas all those years ago.  

The birth of Jesus raised the dignity of our humanity to a whole new realm.  Whether we are aware of it or not, God is living and loving in each of us. This makes us sacred vessels and channels of the Divine Presence.  To accept this is to accept that our humanity is the primary means through which God is involved in our world.  To quote the words attributed to St Teresa of Avila:

“Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion is to look out to the earth. Yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good and yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now.”

How do we prepare well for Christmas?  Perhaps John the Baptist, one of the great Advent personalities, can provide us with the answer. John was a prophet and he has some helpful things to teach us about our preparation for Christmas.  Let me mention three all beginning with the letter S.

John was single-minded. The focus of his life was Jesus.  He had come to prepare the way for Jesus and to point Jesus out when he came.  John let nothing distract him from centring his life on Jesus.  At this time of year there is a danger we would forget that Jesus is the reason for the season.  We need to try to keep Jesus at the centre of our Christmas preparations and celebrations.  If we don’t, Christmas will leave us with a sense of disappointment and perhaps even emptiness.

We are told that John the Baptist lived out in the desert.  He sought silence.  Silence helped John not only to reflect but, more importantly, to listen to his heart. In listening to his heart John knew he was listening to God.  Silence enabled John to experience solitude.  Solitude is finding the Presence of God within.  It is prayer experienced as friendship.  Like John we too need times of silence in our lives, especially in the weeks leading up to Christmas.  How else can we glimpse the great wonder of God becoming human in a helpless, vulnerable child?  Without silence Christmas can be a superficial experience.

John also lived a simple life.  The scriptures tell us that he wore a camel skin and ate locusts and wild honey.  There was no excess baggage, no clutter or waste in John’s life. His life was focused on the essentials.  John’s example is an important one for us who live in a consumerist culture that is in overdrive for months before Christmas.  It often feels as if the real religion at Christmas is shopping. Of course it is a good thing at Christmas to give presents.  Gifts are an expression of our love and appreciation of others.  But there is so much needless spending and unnecessary waste at Christmas.  Waste is offensive to the poor.  It also distracts us from the things that really matter – our relationships.  The investment we make in building relationships is much more important than our investment in material possessions. 

In the weeks leading up to Christmas John the Baptist’s message to us is clear. Don’t forget that Jesus is the reason for the season, create a little time for silence and put relationships before possessions.

I once heard God compared to a mother who took her three young children to the seaside on a summer’s day.  The children spent most of their time on the beach playing in the sand.  Each of them built a sandcastle, according to his or her ability.  When they had finished their work, their mother came to look at what they had done.  She praised each of them individually for their achievements.  On returning home the mother fed her children, washed them and put them to bed.  Then she sat down to relax.  She was happy with the day at the seaside; pleased that her children enjoyed themselves on the beach and that they were safe.  And in the meantime the tide came in and washed away the sandcastles her children had built.

It is November.  It is the month when we remember the dead and when we think about our own death.  For all of us life is passing; it is transient.  Death is inevitable.  We have here no lasting city.  The thought of our mortality at this wintertime gives us an opportunity to get things in perspective.

To get things in perspective it is helpful to ask ourselves some questions. One question we could do to ask ourselves during November is this: What will we have to leave behind us when our earthly life is over?  Among the things we will definitely leave behind are the sandcastles we have built.  Our sandcastles are more than the buildings we own.  They are our projects, our investments, our businesses, our wealth, even our achievements.  All these things may have preoccupied us in life, but they will be of little benefit to us in death.

Another question November brings is one that gets to the heart of the meaning of life.  What will we take with us when our time in this world is over?  The poet William Blake provides the answer: “We are put on earth a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.” What will endure are the relationships we have built, including our relationship with God.  Relationships are the most important thing in life.  It is the investment we make in relationships that we will take with us into God’s other world beyond the grave.  It is love and only love that will last.  When we meet the Lord face to face in death the thing he will look for is the love in our hearts.

So, “if you tend to get overly serious about your work and your responsibilities remind yourself that the most common deathbed regrets have to do with neglected relationships, not unfinished business” (The Little Book of Calm).

A religious reformer, writer, mystic, Doctor of the Church, founder of seventeen monasteries and, perhaps most importantly of all, a charming and wholesome human being.  Who can I be referring to?  The sixteen century Carmelite called Teresa of Avila.  Here is a little taste of her life and spirituality.

Teresa of Avila was a woman who was down to earth and full of practical common sense.  She was a mystic who had her feet firmly planted on the ground.  When one of her more pious Carmelite sisters criticised her for enjoying a well-cooked bird, she immediately replied, “Sister, there is a time for penance and a time for partridge!”  Teresa believed that the Lord can be found among the pots and pans.  Her spirituality was not detached from everyday things and everyday living.  It was an integral part of everyday things and everyday living.  Her God was a God who was personally involved in the business of her life.  She believed that the God, who revealed himself in and through the humanity of Jesus, was revealing himself in and through her humanity too.

Teresa had a great sense of humour.  For her religion should make us cheerful. She once exclaimed, “May the Lord protect us from sour-faced saints!”  As she travelled throughout Spain founding new Carmelite monasteries Teresa had to put up with plenty of inconvenience and hardship.  On one occasion when all of this was obviously getting her down she complained to the Lord, “If this is the way you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them!”  Towards the end of her life Teresa agreed to have her portrait painted by a Carmelite brother by the name of John. When she saw the finished product she turned to Brother John and said, “God forgive you Brother John for you have made me fat and bleary-eyed!”  It is refreshing to meet a saint who did not take herself too seriously.

Without doubt Teresa of Avila’s most important contribution to the Christian tradition has to do with prayer.  She is the great teacher in the art of prayer.  Teresa is clear and adamant: If we want a relationship with the Lord then we must spend time in personal prayer and do this regularly.  Her teaching on prayer is perhaps best summed up in these words, “In my opinion, prayer is an intimate sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with the one whom we know loves us.”  For Teresa, prayer is about the experience of friendship, a friendship that satisfies the longing in our hearts for unconditional love. Teresa knew the Lord as an intimate friend and she wants us to experience his intimacy too.

“What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.”  Many of us are familiar with this verse from the poem by William Henry Davies.  Many of us too are familiar with the experience the poet is describing.  There are perhaps a number of things that prevent us from taking time to stand and stare.  One in particular is rife in our culture today.  It is called busyness.

Why are we so busy?  The practical reason might be because we seem to have a lot of things to do.  But there may be a deeper reason.  Perhaps we are busy because we need to feel productive.  Perhaps we keep ourselves busy because we do not feel good about ourselves when we are doing nothing.  Perhaps we need to be busy because our value comes from what we do, not from who we are.  Measuring ourselves by our usefulness is called utilitarianism, a philosophy that originated back at the beginning of the 19^th century and has penetrated into the very core of our being.  The Anglo Saxon work ethic dominates our Western culture and has a huge impact not only on the way we see ourselves, but, more importantly, on the way we feel about ourselves.

Perhaps another reason we keep ourselves busy is because we believe that we need to earn the acceptance and approval of Jesus.  “Look busy! Jesus is coming!” is a voice that has influenced our religious experience. It creates a double whammy that leaves us struggling.  Not only is busyness something we expect of ourselves; it is also something we think Jesus expects of us.  This is bad religion and a terrible misunderstanding of the good news of the Gospel.  Jesus’ love does not have to be earned. It is GIFT, not achievement.  Who we are is much more important to Jesus than what we do. He allows us to be and to rejoice in our ways of being.  This is what it means to be loved unconditionally by him.  Jesus is happy for us to take time to stand and stare.   Our culture may make us feel guilty doing it, but Jesus doesn’t!

Jesus was a visitor to the home of two sisters and a brother, Martha, Mary and Lazarus.  In that home we learn about two types of hospitality.  One is a hospitality of the table; the other is a hospitality of the heart (see Luke 10:38-42).

Hospitality of the table is about sharing our food with people.  It is about responding to the material needs of others, what used to be referred to as the corporal works of mercy.  Hospitality of the table is symbolised by the gesture of breaking bread.  It is an act of Christian service.  It was the hospitality that Martha offered Jesus and his companions.

Hospitality of the heart is about making time for people.  It is about listening to people and allowing them to tell their stories.  It is about creating and building relationships.  Hospitality of the heart is the very essence of Christianity.  It was the hospitality that Mary offered Jesus.

These two types of hospitality, hospitality of the table and hospitality of the heart, are both necessary.  We have material needs and we have relationship needs.  From the very beginning the followers of Jesus recognised this and sought to respond to both.  The Christian community needs Marthas, people who serve others in practical ways.  The Christian community also needs Marys, people who sit and listen, who allow others to share what is in their hearts, who help to build relationships. Some people are more naturally like Martha.  They are happier doing practical things for others.  Other people are more naturally like Mary.  They are content spending time with others listening to the story of their lives.  The truth is, while one may come more naturally to us than the other, we need to be both.  If we put all our energy into doing practical things, we end up neglecting our relationship needs.  If we spend all our time listening and talking, the necessary practical things will never get done.

There is of course an important message in this gospel story that Jesus is keen to get across to us.  It is the difference between Martha and Mary which he was quick to spot.  Martha gets her value from her work, from what she does.  She only feels good about herself when she is useful and productive.  Mary, on the other hand, gets her value from her belovedness, from the fact that she belongs to God and that God takes delight in her.  Mary knows that she is loved unconditionally.  She does not have to be busy in order to feel worthy of love.  In short, Martha thinks that love needs to be earned, whereas Mary knows that it is gift.  Jesus is adamant.  Mary has got it right! The Father’s love is gift, not achievement.  To Martha and indeed to us, Jesus says: ‘You have no need to keep yourself busy. Learn to relax.  Let yourself be loved as you are. Be still and know that I am God.’

There are two sides to every story.  There are also two sides to every person; the good side and the not so good side.  Unfortunately, often the not so good side tends to dominate.  We have a tendency only to see the bad and the good becomes blurred, indeed neglected.

In the Gospel we meet a little man called Zacchaeus who was a victim of the tendency in human nature to see the bad (see Luke 19:1-10).  His fellow Jews saw him as a tax collector and therefore as a traitor and a thief.   For them he was a bad person, someone to be shunned, isolated and rejected.  We can have no doubt that Zacchaeus was hurting inside.

When Jesus met Zacchaeus he too saw a tax collector.  But he also saw something more, something better, something good.  He saw the capacity for generosity and care in Zacchaeus’ heart.  Instead of rejecting Zacchaeus, Jesus accepted him.  He chose to dine in Zacchaeus’ house.  Jesus’ attitude to Zacchaeus changed his life.  He became a different person.  His potential for good was awakened and he put his wealth at the service of the poor.

So what about us?  When we look at other people what do we see?  Do we see the good or the bad, the positive or the negative?  If we see the good in others we open up a world of opportunity for them, we bring out the best in them.  If we see the bad in others we limit them, imprison them, confine them to a black hole.

And when we look at ourselves what do we see?  When I look at myself do I see the good or the bad, the strengths or the weaknesses, the successes or failures?  Is my picture of myself a positive one or a negative one?  It is a fact that many people carry within themselves a poor self-image and low self-worth.  There are obviously reasons why some people do not feel loved and lovable. But the objective truth is that everyone is made in the image of God, everyone is loved unconditionally by God and everyone is offered the same friendship of Jesus that Zacchaeus was offered.  Each one of us is a good but weak human being.  While we have a tendency to focus on the negative, Jesus always focuses on the positive. 

The challenge for each of us is not to allow the imperfections, the flaws, the weaknesses to dominate the way we see ourselves, others and indeed the world around us.  Human nature may be full of imperfection and failure, but it is essentially good and, in the end, the good will prove victorious.

It is a fact that table fellowship was very important in the life and ministry of Jesus.  Jesus dined out a lot.  He was once described as a glutton and a drunkard.  And when he spoke about the Kingdom of God he often described it in terms of a banquet or a wedding feast.

Jesus obviously enjoyed good food and a glass of wine.  But for Jesus, the quality of the relationships between the people who sat at his table was more important than the quality of food and wine placed on his table. Jesus’ dinner guests were a collection of all sorts of people: tax collectors, prostitutes, Pharisees, the poor, the wealthy, the sick and the sad. At Jesus’ table these very diverse groups of people had to accept one another and be genuinely interested in each other’s lives.

In Jesus’ dining room there are only round tables.  Why? There is no top or bottom at a round table; there are no seats of honour.  You can sit anywhere at a round table and not feel out of place.  Round tables are inclusive.  At a round table you can see everyone and engage with everyone.  Round tables are more conducive to communication and to the experience of companionship.

So what does Jesus want us to bring to his round tables?  Humility.  Humility comes from the word humus which means ‘of the earth.’  We are all of the earth.  We are all creatures.    No one of us is more important than anyone else. We are all totally dependent on God.

In the northwest of Ireland there is a well-known centre of pilgrimage, prayer and penance called Lough Derg. It is a challenging place. The first thing you do when you get to the island for the three day retreat is take off your shoes and socks. You spend all your time there with nothing on your feet.  There is something powerful and significant in the fact that everyone is walking around in their bare feet.  Everyone is connected directly to the earth; everyone is on the same level.  The truth is we all share a common humanity and a common need.  We are all equal. What’s more, we are all vulnerable.

Those who gather around Jesus’ dining table must first take off their shoes. The community Jesus wishes to create in the world is a community of equals.  It is a community founded on our common humanity and built by our compassion. It is a community that gives concrete expression to what it means to belong to the Kingdom of God.