10th August September Trinity 2016, Spirit Can Summon (Redux)

10th Trinity August- September

Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th Trinity August- September

September 25, 2016

Luke 7, 11-17

When someone close to us dies, we grieve. Part of the difficulty we have is that, for our perception, the loved one seems swallowed up by an abyss. A darkness engulfs us, separates us from them. They are lost to us, and we weep for what is now missing in our own lives – their words, their touch, their love.

Christ approaches the grieving widow, now a grieving mother. He speaks to her kindly, tenderly. Like an approaching dawn, he comforts her – weep no more.

And then, like the glory of the sun rising above the horizon, he says to the dead one, ‘Arise!’ The darkness of separation is flooded with light and with life. Loves are reunited.

In our own lives, we too grieve our losses, be they loved ones, lost possessions, or unfulfilled dreams. These are the moment when Christ approaches. He bids us weep no more. He shows us that no matter how great the loss, no matter how deep the hopelessness, there is always a future, a new day. It may take time for the sun to rise, but, in the words of John O’Donohue:

As twilight makes a rainbow robe

From the concealed colors of day

In order for time to stay alive

Within the dark weight of night,

May we lose no one we love

From the shelter of our hearts.

When we love another heart

…We journey deep below time

Into that eternal weave

Where nothing unravels.

May we have the grace to see

…That whoever we have loved,

Such love can never quench.

Though a door may have closed,

Closed between us,

May we be able to view

Our lost friends with eyes

Wise with calming grace;

….

Bring warmth again to

Where the heart has frozen

In order that beyond the walls

…We may be able to

Celebrate the gifts they brought,

Learn and grow from the pain,

…Where spirit can summon

Beauty from wounded space.*

*John O'Donohue , “For Lost Friends” in To Bless the Space Between Us

10th August September Trinity 2008, Ripen Death

10^th Trinity August September

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Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10^th August Trinity

September 28, 2008

Luke 7: 11 -17

During the course of the year, some fruits drop early, while they are still green. Others go on to ripen and mature.

The only place in the universe where a living being can experience death is here on the earth. We carry this death inside us. As the poet Rilke says:

We are only the rind and the leaf.

The great death that each of us carries inside is the fruit.

Everything enfolds it.[1]

The angels in heaven cannot die. Christ had to come to earth as a human being in order to be the only heavenly being to go through death, to ripen it and harvest it. He went through death as a human so that humans could live through death and rise.

In today’s reading, Christ encounters a young man, a sort of green fruit, who had dropped early. This young man had died before really finishing his life’s task. Christ appeared at the crucial moment and infuses him with new life – “Young man, I say to you, arise!”  He helps him maintain and complete what he himself could not do out of his own forces. He helps him maintain and complete his life. The young man was given another opportunity to mature and ripen. The poet:

We stand in your garden year after year.

We are trees for yielding a sweet death.

But, fearful, we wither before the harvest.

Dying is strange and hard

If it is not our death, but a death

That takes us by storm, when we’ve ripened none within us.[2]

We all carry death within us— like a fruit waiting to ripen. Inside the fruit is the seed of ongoing life, eternal life. Eventually the old useless husk of our egotism cracks and must be cast off. We must die to our own selfishness. Paradoxical as it sounds, we are meant to ripen the fruit of dying, so that we can live. And so the poet says:

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[1] Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours, Love Poems to God, transl. by Barrows and Macy, p. 132.

[2] Ibid. pg. 133.

10th August/September Trinity 2009, Last Fruits

10^th Trinity August September

Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10^th August-September Trinity

Sept. 27, 2009

Luke 7: 11-17

Fruits of the vine are ripe. They enclose the seeds for new life. In nature, the fruit falls and dies away, releasing the seeds to begin a new cycle of life. But they can also be tended and harvested to another purpose—to be made into wine.

Today we hear of the young man, the fruit of whose life had fallen green. Christ catches his soul; He finds the soul’s seed of the new, and plants it again on the earth. This is Christ as the great Gardener. He is tending a harvest for his Wine. But no matter whether the soul’s fruit falls early or late, He is concerned with ongoing life, with the seeds within; He preserves them, carrying them and planting them where they next need to go.

In one lifetime, we may ripen soul fruits of many kinds. When ripe, the fruits must separate from the vine on which they grew, for their current cycle is finished. Things end, sometimes painfully. But what is valuable in our soul, the ripened sweetness, we can offer for the wine harvest. Our soul’s purest thoughts, our most noble feelings, the dedication of our will, form the sweetness of the soul’s fruit. These we can offer for the wine. What is viable in our soul fruit, seeds for the future, are gathered up by our angel, under the direction of the Master Gardener. They will be preserved, to be planted, to grow and develop. It may be in another place and time. It may be for an entirely new and different purpose. But even in all of life’s apparent endings, the living seeds are not lost. Knowing this, we can keep trying, keep working to ripen our inner fruit, developing the sweetness, even late in whatever cycle we find ourselves.

So now, in all the layers of our autumns, we can say with Rilke:

Lord: it is time. The summer was great.

Lay your shadows onto the sundials….

Command the last fruits to be full,

give them yet two more southern days,

urge them to perfection, and chase

the last sweetness into the heavy wine.[1]

Visit our Website!

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[1] Rilke, “Autumn Day”, translated by J. Mullen

10 August/September Trinity 2014, Young One, Arise!

10^th Trinity August September

Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions

10^th August/September Trinity

Franz Dvorak

September 28, 2014

Luke 7: 11 – 17

Every night we go to sleep. We meet with our guardian angel, our higher self and guide. We are cleansed of our fatigue and together we and our angel look at the events of the previous day. We plan for the coming day, what we need to do, how we will need to act. The next day, we rise to our tasks and inspirations.

When we die, we meet with Christ. We are cleansed of our weariness and ills. With him we look at our previous lifetime. We plan for what we need to do and be, how we shall conduct our next life. After a rest, we will hear his voice, “Young one, I say to you, arise!” And we will be given to our mother.

Our fear of dying is sometimes a fear of not having lived the life that we intended before we were born. For we have all come with a unique mission. We would do well to pay attention to those glimmerings of inspiration, those subtle intentions, the angelic promptings that we bring back with us from sleep. For they are our day by day guide for living the life we truly intended. 

The poet’s words express the hopes of our angel:

May the beauty of your life become more visible to you, that you may glimpse your wild divinity.

…May the light of dawn anoint your eyes that you may behold what a miracle a day is.

May the liturgy of twilight shelter all your fears and darkness within the circle of ease.

 …May you find enough stillness and silence to savor the kiss of God on your soul and delight in the eternity that shaped you, that holds you and calls you.[1]

www.thechristiancommunity.org

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[1] John O’Donohue, “A Blessing for Beauty”, from Beauty – The Invisible Embrace