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Loneliness

Loneliness is a painful condition affecting many people today. Even before the social distancing caused by Covid 19, the loneliness people were experiencing in Britain was so dreadful and widespread that the Government there created a new ministerial post, Minister for Loneliness.

Loneliness is caused by isolation, the breakdown in relationships and the lack of real communication. It is true that the mobile phone and the internet are serving our need for connection, but the kind of connection they create is limited and often superficial. They lack a mutual physical presence and depth of engagement which the human person is made for. A contemporary phenomenon is the growth of the urban population. But urbanisation is leaving those who are left in rural areas feeling more and more isolated and those who have moved into cities feeling lost in a vast sea of impersonal restless activity. It is a fact that many people who live in cities do not know their neighbours. Some even admit to the television being their main source of company. Isolation and loneliness have the capacity to create darkness in the human heart which in turn leads to depression. This is understandable since we are made for relationships. To be human is to be in relationship. To quote the well-known words of John Donne, “No man is an island unto himself.”

Those who feel isolated and lonely can find sources of company. One source is the local parish. A parish is a Christian community and it offers people opportunities to spend time together. All parishes have a Sunday Eucharist and many have a daily one. Some parishes have regular prayer meetings including faith sharing inspired by scripture. Parishes also tend to have a variety of regular social events. These activities and more offer us ways to experience a sense of belonging and to become involved in the lives of others.

Another thing that can help us deal with the loneliness we feel is prayer. Prayer has been described as company-keeping with the Lord. There is a constant Presence in our lives waiting to be discovered. This Presence, though invisible, is real and personal and it offers us love and friendship. All we need do is find a way, our own way, of being aware of God’s presence. If we are willing to turn to God in the silence of our hearts we will find a source of companionship that comforts us in our loneliness. Through the experience of prayer it is possible to be alone but not feel lonely. This is because prayer turns silence into solitude. To experience solitude is to know that we are never alone.

A Healing Process

Low self-esteem is all pervasive in our culture. Within most of us there are powerful negative voices telling us that we are not good enough. It is absolutely essential that shame does not become the only experience we have of ourselves. We need to find a way that will allow us to experience ourselves differently.

One way can be summed up in the three rhyming words – name, claim, tame. We begin by naming our unfulfilled longing. There is deep longing in every human heart. It is difficult to know what this longing is about. Not only can it take time for us to acknowledge our longing. It also takes time to discover what it is for. Eventually we come to realise that our unfulfilled longing is a longing for unconditional love. Each and every one of us needs to know that we are loved and lovable as we are.

The good news of Jesus is that unconditional love is available to us. Unconditional love is available to us in the relationship that God has with each of us. God who is love, loves us as we are, without conditions, without expectations, without requirements. This is the core truth of the Christian Gospel, the one thing we can say with certainty. But it remains academic unless we claim it. Sooner or later we need to claim our belovedness.

Claiming our belovedness is one thing. We also need to tame what we call the false self. The false self is built around conditional love. It keeps us in the bondage of accumulation, achievement and approval. Because of it we tend to find our value in what we have, in what we do and in what other people think of us. Taming the false self is a process of awareness and surrender. First we recognise the many subtle and manipulative ways the false self is at work in ourselves and in the world around us. Then we invite the Holy Spirit to tame the power of our false self. Only the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that unites Jesus and his Father, can break the control that the false self has over us.

A Powerful Agenda

Those who have attended a conference or a workshop will know the value of a good introduction. It is helpful to be told by the presenter at the beginning what he or she intends to speak about and what he or she hopes to achieve.

Early in St Luke’s Gospel we have the account of Jesus’ first public engagement. Significantly, he went back to his own home village of Nazareth to launch his ministry. In the local synagogue on the Sabbath day surrounded by family and neighbours Jesus set out his stall, he told his listeners what he was going to do:

“The Spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he has anointed me. He sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free to proclaim the Lord’s year of favour.” (Luke 4: 18-19)

From the very beginning Jesus made it clear that his work was about liberation. He had come to free people from the things in their lives that were imprisoning them, burdening them, weighing them down, preventing them from living life to the full. What concerned Jesus was:

Negative and narrow thinking that cloud the mind
Selfishness and resentment that hold the heart captive
Rejection and fear that create hurt and isolation
Oppression and exploitation that cause conflict and poverty

These were the things that Jesus fought against. These were the things that he sought to heal and to change. These were the things that caused him great suffering and in the end led to his death. The purpose of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus was to liberate humanity from evil in all its forms and expressions.

Claiming our Belovedness

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 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.

Prayer for the New Year

Jesus,
You became one of us and one with us.
You know what it means to be fully human.
Be my companion on my journey through life.
Walk with me at all times,
in days that are happy and in days that are sad.
Support me when I feel lonely.
Strengthen me when I feel fear.
Comfort me when I feel anxious.
Help me to let go of the things that do not matter.
Give me the generosity to live like you
and the courage to die like you,
trusting always in the care and protection of your Father.
Amen.

A God With Skin On

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 concrete reality of our neighbour we meet God. In the earthiness 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 and 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.”

Waiting

During the season of Advent we are reminded that the Jewish people had to wait for the coming of the Messiah. Indeed during the season of Advent we are drawn into the experience of their long years of waiting. God makes his chosen people wait for the fulfilment of their longings.

Waiting is a holy thing, but it may not be an easy thing, or a popular thing. Our contemporary culture has no time for waiting! It is an instant culture; instant food, instant coffee, instant communication. We want everything now, immediately. This puts our contemporary culture at variance with the spiritual life. The spiritual life is a process of waiting. Spiritual growth does not happen overnight. There are no microwave mystics; no instant saints. Spiritual growth is a gradual process. It takes time, a lot of time. It involves patience and it involves perseverance.

We say that God’s ways are not our ways. It is also true to say that God’s time is not our time! In Advent we are being invited, like the Jewish people, to wait patiently on God to fulfil his plan for us, in us; for me, in me. We see this spirit of waiting in John the Baptist, one of the great Advent figures. John sent messengers to Jesus to ask if he needs to continue to wait: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (Luke 7:19). Jesus assures John that he has to wait no longer. The Kingdom of God is at hand. John’s waiting is over and it has been rewarded.

Why God makes us wait for what is good for us is not easy to understand. Perhaps it is one of those mysteries that we may just need to accept. What is clear is that waiting increases our desire and kindles our longing. It makes us grateful and helps us to appreciate what has been given to us. It also deepens our trust in God and the deeper our trust in God the freer God is to work in us and through us.

The Season of Hope

We all need some hope in our lives. People look for hope in different places. One place to look is the Gospel. During the few weeks into Christmas we celebrate the season of Advent. The season of Advent is often called the season of hope. So what kind of hope does Advent offer us?

Advent is clear that no matter what we are going through, no matter what difficulties and problems we are dealing with, things will eventually get better. Sooner or later things will improve. There is a brighter future. According to Advent, God will see to it that the good will win out, that light will dispel the darkness, that rough ground will become smooth. The reason for this hope is the utter fidelity of God. God is faithful to his creation, especially to his people. God is not going to abandon what God has created and redeemed. The coming of Jesus into the world is proof of that.

Advent also reminds us that we do in fact already possess a treasure. This treasure is not a treasure made of silver and gold. It is the treasure of love and it is to be found inside us. Inside us there is a Presence living and loving. This Presence is the Presence of Unconditional Love. Because of it we do not need to look for happiness in things outside ourselves, in things like accumulation and achievement and approval. Because of it we can love ourselves as we are and grow in self-esteem. The greatest love of all is to be found inside. Advent invites us to look for it there without fear.

According to Advent another source of hope is in fact our neediness. We must be willing to seek and accept the help of others, including the help of Jesus. Going it alone and attempting to sort out our problems by ourselves does not work. This is called self-sufficiency and it is a form of pride. We need others and they need us. We also need Jesus. There is something liberating about our willingness to acknowledge that we are helpless and powerless. This is the foundation of the AA recovery programme. It is also the basis for creating real community between people. And perhaps this is what we need more than anything else as we face the future – a recovery of the sense of community. We are here to look after each other, not just to look after ourselves. When our lives are built around genuine care and concern for one another then there is always hope.

Practical Love

For the majority of people the days of being governed by a king are long gone. In most parts of the world kingships and kingdoms have given way to governments and democracies. For this reason we are no longer familiar and perhaps even comfortable with what it means to be ruled by a king. For this reason too Christians may find it difficult to relate to the idea that Jesus is our King. If we are able to move beyond any initial reaction we may have we can come to see that the kingship of Jesus is a powerful and beautiful reality in the life of the Christian community.

To have Jesus as our King means that we have someone to look up to, someone who can inspire and guide us. It means too that we have someone who is in control of our lives, someone with power. To know that there is a powerful person in control of our lives makes us feel safe and secure; it also gives us confidence.

Of course there is a particular aspect to the kingship of Jesus that we need to keep in mind. The Gospel tells us that Jesus is the person to whom we must give an account of ourselves when we die. In other words, Jesus and Jesus only is the one who will judge us. But what will Jesus our King base his judgement on? Practical love. Did we care for those in need? Did we feed the hungry? Did we visit the sick and the lonely? Did we clothe the naked? Did we practise what used to be called the corporal works of mercy? St John of the Cross, the Carmelite poet and mystic puts it well. He says, “In the evening of life we will be examined in love.”

It is inspiring and encouraging for us to know that Jesus, our King, leads by example. He does not ask us to do something that he did not do himself. Jesus fed the hungry, he cured the sick, he befriended lepers and social outcasts, he comforted those who felt lost. Jesus was a servant king. In fact, Jesus still is a servant king. Jesus continues to identify himself with the poor, the weak, the unloved. Indeed, in some mysterious way Jesus is actually present in them. “As long as you did this to the least of these brothers and sisters of mine you did it to me” (Matt 25:40). We meet Jesus in our neighbour and we serve Jesus in our neighbour. This is why Jesus, our King, will judge us on how we treat others, especially those who are most vulnerable.

November

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 winter time 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).