Christian Life/Personal Holiness: November 2008 Archives

Morning prayer, day-in, day-out 7/365 with rarely a break. And each round of the weeks, I experience something new in the Psalter, I hear something different as the words are spoken. I experience the prayers from where I am at that time, and so they have a different savor on the tongue, in the mind, in the heart.

And today there is a certain sense of joy and frustration.

from Psalter, Wednesday Week 1 of Ordinary Time

My God, the sons of men
find refuge in the shelter of your wings.

They feast on the riches of your house;
they drink from the stream of your delight.
In you is the source of life
and in your light we see light.

Keep on loving those who know you,
doing justice for upright hearts.
Let the foot of the proud not crush me
nor the hand of the wicked cast me out.

See how the evil-doers fall!
Flung down, they shall never arise.

While I relish the mercy of the Lord, I am often aghast at how He allows the wicked to rule and retain power. Ruthless, brutal, heartless, and cruel--the leadership of the world is so often the leadership of oppression. This is true from governments down to small businesses. Wanton small acts of cruelty from the company my wife worked for that ordered her to put two staples into the application of any person of color to the Lehman Brothers and other precipitators of our present crisis. Will they suffer from it? Not at all, and yet the suffering they have caused and will cause is incalculable.

Do the evil-doers fall? Rarely. How often are those who consistently vote for the extermination of small lives cast out of office--aren't they rather celebrated and extolled? How frequently do we witness any comeuppance?

And yet, I don't really want to see comeuppance either. Rather, I want to see the evil-doers fall--fall into the arms of God and cease to do evil. I want to see the sources of the world's evils dry up--avarice, pride, ambition, lust for power. And I know that they cannot go entirely because it is these drivers that given humanity some of its greatness some of its ability to cope with almost anything. Mysteriously, love is not a tremendous motivator to exploration of new worlds. It is the Dionysian that propels us--but even as tempered, it hurls us toward the stars, untrammeled it hurls us toward Hell itself.

And so the frustration of the psalms. I read the line and at first I want to see the evil-doer cast down--in fact, like the Lord High Executioner in The Mikado, I have a little list. It's not even alphabetical, but ranked. And sometimes I think, Lord, if you saw fit to smite these people, I would not be tremendously troubled. And then I go to confession.

Nevertheless, it would be good if I could see the evil-doers fall--fall into the arms of our Lord and cease to do evil. That, in fact, would be more satisfying than to see them destroyed. And yet, it happens so infrequently--or so it seems.

But I have to call to mind the words of St. Paul who reminds us that the sower of the seed is often not privileged to see the harvest of that same crop. So, I suppose by that logic, I do my part in the fall of evil-doers when I return goodness for malice, blessings for curses. "Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head." (Rom 12:20 quoting Proverbs 25:21-22).

Oh, but how satisfying it would be to see some of the evil of the world lessen, to see some surcease of the repletion of the foul.

I discovered only this morning that I have been off by a week in my morning prayer--praying out of synch as it were. As that is the case, I'll continue being off by a week for this day because of the psalm that speaks so loudly to me right now:

from Psalm 42

Why are you cast down, my soul,
why groan within me?
Hope in God; I will praise Him still,
my savior and my God.

Around me are any number of causes for sorrow and despair. I received alarming and difficult news from a dear friend, for whom I ask your prayers. Matter at work are difficult and require much prayer and reflection. And then there are the larger things wrong--these show up in minor, but still frightening, ways such as the smaller number of advertisements in the Church Bulletin, the "for Rent" sign on the house next door.

Father in heaven, when your strength takes possession of us we no longer say: Why are you cast down, my soul? . . . Inspire us to yearn for you always, like the deer for running streams, unti lyou satisfy every longing in heaven.

Note, every longing in heaven--not all the yearning for peace and certainty that we have here on Earth--but every longing in heaven.

I truly feel the weight of the Chinese curse: "May you live in interesting times." I would that they were less interesting. And yet everything is allowed by God for the purposes of proving us and refining us and making us more capable of heaven. Refinement is always painful, burning away the dross always difficult. And yet our hope is in what is left behind once all of the excess has been done way with.

How often do I skip through Psalm 51 to arrive at this verse?

Psalm 51

A pure heart create for me, O God,
put a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence,
nor deprive me of your holy spirit.

Often to the point of forgetting the hard words that I need to internalize:

My offenses truly I know them;
my sin is always before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned;
what is evil in your sight I have done.

While the promise of the latter half of the psalm is a great balm, the pain it is supposed to ease is that of the first half of the psalm--recognition and bone-deep recognition of my constantly sinful state. Without the first, the balm will not be withheld, but its healing will feel trivial, not worth the trouble of a prayer. When I forget my sinfulness, I cannot be deeply grateful for my salvation. If I think I have done nothing wrong or that what I have done is small and trivial, then salvation will be a bandaid--not the life altering surgery it is supposed to be.

From morning prayer:

Isaiah 66: 1-2

Thus says the Lord:
The heavens are my throne,
and the earth is my footstool.
What kind of house can you build for me;
what is to be my resting place?
My hand made all these things
when all of them came to be, says the Lord.
This is the one whom I approve:
The lowly and afflicted man who trembles at my word.

What kind of house can be built for the Lord that makes for Him a suitable dwelling-place? Solomon building his temple did not accomplish it--nor for all of its finery and beauty has anything built by the Church in all its ages of existence.

What, then, is a suitable dwelling-place? There is only one expansive enough, strong enough, exalted enough to serve--the human heart. This is the only dwelling place into which God can make a suitable home. The human heart turned over to Him is refashioned to put even the most magnificent human-built tributes to shame. This is the only place that God can make His own and call home. It is the only vehicle to carry Him, the only place in which the Son of Man can rest.

If I invite Him in and talk with Him, if I serve Him and love Him, then all that is humanly possible has been accomplished. It is His presence that will accomplish all the rest.

Psalm 5

But I through the greatness of your love
have access to your house.
I bow down before your holy temple,
filled with awe.

We each have the possibility of entering the innermoet sanctum of God's home and of staying there awhile in conversation with Him. This is done through His Will and power, not through our own.

Take a moment and think of what that would mean in your life--if you could spend a few minutes away from all that presently surrounds and concerns you and you could enter into His house.