All the great experiences of life –freedom, encounter, love, death –are worked out in the silent turbulence of an impoverished Spirit . . . A gentleness comes over us when we confront such decisive moments. We are quietly but deeply moved by a mature encounter; we become suddenly humble when we are overtaken by love.
Johannes Baptist Metz, Poverty of Spirit, p. 49
When Luc sent me the readings for this service I was taken by their disquieting nature. At least in parts:
If you wish to be perfect, go sell your possessions’, give the money to the poor and come follow me. (Matthew)
I want to know Christ in the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings . . .(Philippians)
For gold is tested in the fire, and those found acceptable, in the furnace of humiliation. (Sirach)
So, I wrote to Luc in South Africa and asked him why he had chosen them.
He wrote back:
The first reading from Sirach helps me face the reality that monastic life or the service of God is not a bed of roses. It requires perseverance. It assures me I will be tested but upheld by God. If I fall, it suggests I fall in the Lord's hands because his mercy is similar to his majesty.
The second reading and the Gospel remind me that discipline and sacrifice are required in the life I have chosen, but there is a prize or a reward in this present life and in the next.
Please let me know if I need to say more …
That was helpful and it led me to the initial quote from a small 52 page book by Johannes Metz called Poverty of Spirit.
I first read that little gem of a book during my college years and it had a profound impact on me and my life choices. Please let me read one more passage – this one a bit longer.
We cannot rest content in ourselves. In the elements and experience of our life, to which we give meaning, we do not find satisfying light and protective security. We only find these things in the intangible mystery that overshadow our heart from the first day of our life, awakening questions and wonderment and luring us beyond ourselves. We surrender ourselves to this mystery, as a person in love surrenders to the mystery of the beloved and there finds rest. (p.27)
Reminds me of Augustine’s famous line: Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.
Poverty of spirit isn’t mentioned in the three fold Benedictine vow but I think it might suggest the heart of it.
Let’s take a look at today's gospel passage and then compare it to another. It’s a familiar story as all three synoptic gospels tell it.
The rich man – he may have been young, wants to qualify early for the life to come.
Jesus rattles off some of the commandments, the young man has obeyed them all but there is just a bit more to do: sell all you have, give the proceeds to the poor and come follow me.
The man walks away sad. He wasn’t ready to surrender himself as a person in love surrenders to the mystery of the beloved and there finds rest. We never hear about him again.
As I read it I knew something was missing. As an aside you might like to know that Brother Luc’s nickname for me is “old woman.” Okay, I’ll own it. Sometimes my memory isn’t as sharp as it once was.
But I knew that something was missing from this story.
I went to Luke . . . no, something was missing in that version as well.
I went to Mark and I found what I was looking for.
The rich young ruler boasts that he has kept all the commandments since he was little.
And here it comes. The line that’s been missing:
Jesus looking on him, loved him.
Matthew and Luke omit this crucial line. Their accounts were written after Mark’s. Had the fledgling church already begun to close the circle to the ones they thought were beyond salvation? I
don’t know.
All the great experiences of life –freedom, encounter, love, death –are worked out in the silent turbulence of an impoverished Spirit . . . A gentleness comes over us when we confront such decisive moments. We are quietly but deeply moved by a mature encounter; we become suddenly humble when we are overtaken by love.
He had not yet acknowledged his poverty of spirit. He wasn’t sufficiently open to go beyond the rules of religion – that sometimes shield the heart from conversion – at least not in that moment.
Another gospel story but this time it’s told through art. It’s another mystery of encounter.
Sometimes we have to see (visualize) what we are hearing or reading. I do.
The renaissance painter, Raphael drew a series of cartoons depicting gospel stories. The cartoons were used to make tapestries that were to adorn the Sistine chapel.
The one I’m thinking of is: The miraculous catch of fish found early in Luke’s gospel.
Jesus has been preaching by the sea of Galilee and when the crowds get too large he asks a fisherman, Simon who had been out all night and caught nothing and who just wanted to clean his nets and go home, if he could use his boat to go out a ways from the shore in order to address the crowds. Peter isn’t alone. He’s
with the sons of Zebedee: James and John.
Both boats go out and Jesus commands them to cast their nets – again. Peter mutters something about there being no fish to catch but hey, whatever.
Great catch of fish. Even with the taxes that will have to be paid they have caught enough fish to feed their families and maybe set something aside for another day. It’s a good thing that has happened. They have every right to rejoice in their good luck and the miraculous gifts they’ve been given. Peter’s response is to turn from the fish to Jesus – he does a 180 (conversion) and kneeling pleads that he is a sinful man and that Jesus should depart.
Depiction:
The renaissance painter, Raphael created a series of cartoons that were to be turned into tapestries and to be hung in the Sistine Chapel. One of those cartoons depicted the miraculous catch of fish. Here is some of what he depicts:
Fish overflowing the boat . . . flopping everywhere . . .boats in danger of capsizing . . .signal for help to get this great catch ashore . . . James and John are staring down at the water and they see two things: the fish and their own images.
Peter (and Andrew) have turned away from the fish and their own reflections.
Peter kneels in front of Jesus and urges Jesus to go away from him because he is a sinful man. Maybe he was (as we all are) but maybe here he is confusing sin for something else.
In turning away from the gift (fish) and turning to the giver (Jesus)
Peter is overcome by his own inner poverty. That gnawing poverty when we acknowledge that we really don’t have control in life. We don’t know the number of hairs on our head or what the future will bring.
Peter looks at Jesus and sees his new image – his true self. It’s the beginning of seeing that his life in IN CHRIST – that great mystery we hear so much about in the Christian scriptures.
All the great experiences of life –freedom, encounter, love, death –are worked out in the silent turbulence of an impoverished Spirit . . .*** We are quietly but deeply moved by a mature encounter; we become
suddenly humble when we are overtaken by love.
We are here today because at some point along the way Luc was quietly or perhaps not so quietly moved by a deep and mature encounter.
Your community has helped you to weigh the maturity of your experience with your desire to open your heart, more and more, to the giver.
This monastic life; this fellowship of prayer and hospitality is only possible when you are overtaken by love.
The gifts of life have pointed you to the giver (despair of life as well?).
I think that qualifies as conversion to the monastic way of life.
I know that you understand how slippery the way can be. In todays gospel you decided to add some verses.
Peter, after his call to leave everything and follow Jesus has demonstrated that even the great experience can fade some.
He and the other eleven are watching the encounter with the rich young man and then listening to Jesus say how hard it will be for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of heaven.
Wait one minute! What will we get?
Jesus: You’ll get me.
Jesus rattles off a nice list of Job like rewards – when the reign of God is fulfilled.
He gives Peter a break here. Usually he slips in the word persecutions with everything else.
Luc, what do you get now?
Look around: Each of your brothers is Christ in your midst. And you are Christ for them.
Alan Jones preached at my ordination to the priesthood 39 years ago. I don’t remember most of what he said but I do remember the two last bits.
Quoting some long dead French cardinal he said: The church is ordaining you because it can’t trust you to be a lay person.
I’m still not sure what that meant. And then he said:
. . . We are here tonight because we are acknowledging that you are already a priest. (I am aware that I’m still living into that
statement and reality.)
Luc, you have been becoming what you vow today. You’ve come from Kenya to West Park, of all places in the world, and now back and forth from South Africa.
More conversion lies ahead as you surrender yourself as a person in love surrenders to the mystery of the beloved and there finds love –
The love that points all of our eyes to the beloved.
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