Bible and Bible Study: January 2005 Archives

Last night as part of a Bible study I've committed to I read the assigned reading. Psalm 118:24: "This is the day the Lord has made, let us be glad and rejoice in it."

Honestly, it wasn't a day for much rejoicing. At work I heard things I found discordant and disconcerting and upon arriving home discovered that Samuel had had a difficult day at school as well.

As I sat down to spend my ten minutes with this reading, (I know, not much of a commitment, but still, try spending ten minutes sometime with a single verse of scripture that speaks to you--you'll be amazed at the results) I thought, "About what do I have to rejoice? What was good about this day?"

And as I thought about it I realized how very wrong my perspective on the matter was. All of these challenges are opportunities to let go of myself and my wants and my needs and to focus with pinpoint laser accuracy on what God wants from me. That was my first revelation. The second was that even were the first not true, I had the wrong focus.

Why am I to rejoice in the day? Not for the things that happen in it, not for the events or nonevents, not for my own good or the good that accrues to others. Rather I am to rejoice in it because "This is the day the Lord has made."

Getting back to the theme that God is gently leading me to--I rejoice in this moment that I have been allowed to share. I rejoice because God has sustained all that is until this moment, this day, the only day that I have, All other days are memories (past) or worries and fears (future). It is today, it is now, that has been given to me for this moment and for that very reality I should rejoice. I rejoice because God loves me enough to pay attention. I rejoice because I am His child and He does care--He cares enough to remind me every day in innumerable ways.

Surprisingly, these thoughts did help me rejoice in the day. When I turned my focus away from how bad it was for me personally to the marvel that it exists at all, that a loving God cared enough to fashion a day for all of us, I could not long remain in my determinedly sullen state.

Unfortunately for the rest of the world around me, I did not take on the study until late in the evening, and so, as a result, was not able to share the better sense of things that I had late in the evening. For this lapse, I need to seek forgiveness. But from it I have learned to start my study earlier and let it mellow the entire evening, if not the entire day.

from Ascent to Love
Ruth Burrows

The whole aim of John's asceticism is to release us from the tyranny of the ego. Influenced by his scholastic framework he seems to write as if the senses had a life of their own and must control their actions; that the appetites, passions and emotions must likewise curb themselves. But of course, this is not so. It is really the will, the faculty of choosing, that is involved. True, the eye sees, the ear hears automatically; passions are aroused automatically, but it is the will that must choose to turn away the eyes, refuse to listen, control the instincts. Everything therefore will depend on what I really want, what I prize, what I hold to be my true good. Meditation, as we have said, keeps us looking at the values of Jesus so that we may choose to make these our own. Jesus is always summoning us beyond ourselves to the Father, bidding us deny the powerful tendency to seek fulfilment within ourselves and the limits of the created, making the aggrandisement of the ego the implicit motivation of our thinking and acting.

Throughout life at different times each of us faces the trials experienced by Jesus in Luke 4.

Luke 4:1-14

And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit [2] for forty days in the wilderness, tempted by the devil. And he ate nothing in those days; and when they were ended, he was hungry. [3] The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread." [4] And Jesus answered him, "It is written, `Man shall not live by bread alone.'" [5] And the devil took him up, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, [6] and said to him, "To you I will give all this authority and their glory; for it has been delivered to me, and I give it to whom I will. [7] If you, then, will worship me, it shall all be yours." [8] And Jesus answered him, "It is written, `You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.'"
[9] And he took him to Jerusalem, and set him on the pinnacle of the temple, and said to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here; [10] for it is written, `He will give his angels charge of you, to guard you,' [11] and `On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.'" [12] And Jesus answered him, "It is said, `You shall not tempt the Lord your God.'" [13] And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time. [14]And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee, and a report concerning him went out through all the surrounding country.

Unfortunately, more often than not, we do not respond as Jesus does. For a variety of reasons, different reasons at different times, we succumb to the temptations offered. The reason for meditating on the Scriptures and for practicing a certain level of self denial is to prepare us for the time when these temptations present themselves. Jesus "practiced" self-control and self-denial in a marathon 40 day fast in the desert. He withdrew from all of the wonderful things of God's creation--food, wine, people, comfortable lodging, everything that we see as the necessary minimum in life. This prepared Him for answering Satan when the temptation was offered.

Now few of us are up to a complete fast for even a single day. The thought of a pang of hunger is enough to send us running to our pantries to check out our famine supplies. But neither God nor St. John of the Cross is telling us that it is a really good idea to fast for forty days. In fact, for some of us that presents a temptation all its own--the temptation to being "holier than thou." A kind of spiritual "extreme sports." 'I can fast longer than you can AND I can sit on a taller pole in a higher wind.' "Well I'll take your fast and raise you a 10 cord discipline twice a day.' It sounds silly, but people being what they are seem to be able to take pride in just about anything.

What we learn from St. John of the Cross is that we do well to deprive ourselves of small luxuries, things that in the normal course of life no one will notice except God. Then we are neither likely to take pride in them--so long as we do not deliberately bring them to the notice of others--nor are they likely to derail us by their sheer heroism. In fact, the are more likely to reinforce humility when we realize the tremendous effort we must take to momentarily deprive ourselves of something we don't really need anyway.

And all of this is about conforming the will to what God would have us do. We must make the choices, we must take action--but our action must conform to God's plan for us for it to mean anything. And this is the purpose of any self-denial or any discipline we impose. If our goal is anything less than total-self-giving to God, our actions will not have their intended consequences. As Sister Ruth points out, we must make the choice for our own greatest good. And the difficulty there is that we must wake up and come to realize what our own greatest good entails. Meditating on the scriptures will help us to open our eyes and to see what is right there in front of us, rather than what is six years (six years we don't have) down the line either direction.

from "The Spirituality of the Psalms" Roland E. Murphy
in Carmelite Prayer: A Tradition for the 21st Century ed. Fr. Keith J. Egan

It would be foolhardy to claim that the spirituality of the Psalms can be appropriated by the saint, but not the sinner. These prayers are clearly the aspirations of a people that readily admitted its sinfulness, and hence are appropriate for the modern reader. However, Christian tradition emphasizes another aspect to praying the Psalms. From the time of John Cassian (fifth century) to the late Jesuit theologian, Bernard Lonergan, there is an emphasis on the subjective attitude of the reader of Scripture. Lonergan called for a "conversion" opf the interpreter in pursuing theology, inciuding the interpretation of the Word. John Cassian insisted on spiritual preparation. While his Conferences were primarily geared to the monastic life, and were the fruit of his living with the anicent monks of the desert, his views have a taste of the modern in that they reach out to experience. Abbot Nesteros urges him to read the Scriputres with the same diligence with which he pursued secular studies; then the secular will yield to the spiritual (XIV: 13). At the end of XIV:14 the abbot insists on purity of heart: "It is impossible that anyone whose soul is not pure can acquire spiritual knowledge, no matter how diligently he appplies himself in study." . . . The situation of those who read the Bible is somewhat paradoxical. On one hand, spiritual discipline is needed to prepare for the reading; on the other hand, spiritual experience accompanies and is the fruit of such reading.

Two points. This is the second time in two weeks that I have encountered the name of Lonergan in an extended nonfiction work. Were I inclined to read theology, I would think that I should pick up Lonergan at this point. However, momentary perusal of a website dedicated to a study of his philosophy reveals that I haven't the intellectual wherewithal to do so. So once again invincible ignorance triumphs.

The seond point--reading Scripture should convert the reader. I liken this to Harold Bloom's notion that a great text should read the reader as much as it is read. When Scripture "reads" me, I should stand before it convicted and converted. The reading should begin the formulation of a change. It is all a work of grace--both the reading and the change. Nevertheless, the abbot above says to apply yourself as diligently to your Biblical reading as you do to your secular. That in itself should provoke deep thought for a great many of us. How often do I read the Bible for the same or greater a length of time as I do all the many wonderful works of secular literature? Is reading Scripture a priority or is it an afterthought?

Here, in miniature is an example of what Bloom talks about. Though we're not talking a great work of literature in this small essay, the essay has "read" me and found my attitudes and ideas wanting. God delivers to an unworthy servant yet another work of grace--He leads me to such rich reading and then opens my eyes to what is being said. May He also open my heart to the change that is required.