Your Shadow’s Invited to the Banquet

 Last Sunday, the Gospel reading was Jesus’ parable of the rich man who invites his neighbours to a great feast.  None of the invited accept the invitation so he invites all those who wouldn’t usually be invited to a rich man’s celebration – the poor, the halt, the lame, the blind.  This is well summarized by the Medical Mission Sisters in their song, I Cannot Come to the Banquet, which we sang at the worship service. Here is the chorus:

I cannot come.
I cannot come to the banquet,
Don't trouble me now.
I have married a wife.
I have bought me a cow.
I have fields and commitments
That cost a pretty sum.
Pray, hold me excused,
I cannot come.

The meaning of this parable seems clear to us.  It is easier to understand than some of Jesus’ parables.  God offers a banquet to us.  As Christians we are people who will be invited to God’s banquet that is prepared for us in God’s kingdom.  However, many of us who are invited to God’s feast with all the wonderful food and drink that will feed our souls, will decide we have better things to do than attend the Great Feast.   

That is the usual understanding of the parable.  I believe that it is perfectly valid and true.  However, I want to look at another way of understanding the lesson that Jesus is giving us.  What if we look at this from an inner perspective?  What is God offering to us about ourselves—about who we are created by God to be?  We have those parts of ourselves which are good and upright and live a life that is acceptable to us and to society. 

What then of the guests that the master invites when we don’t partake—the poor street people, the halt, the lame, the outcasts and people we wouldn’t dream of inviting to our banquets?  What about the parts of ourselves that are the aspects of ourselves that we don’t find acceptable —the street people within us?  We can look at those people invited instead of us as aspect of ourselves that we don’t find acceptable—those parts of ourselves that we don’t like and don’t even want to acknowledge.  These unacceptable parts can raise their ugly heads when we aren’t looking. 

Those parts of ourselves that we don’t want to acknowledge are part of who we are.  Carl Jung named those parts of ourselves that are unacknowledged and denied the Shadow.  They are also invited to the Great Feast as the parable tells us.  If we are going to attend the Great Feast those parts are going to attend as well.  We have to acknowledge them to God if we are to attend.  Otherwise, we will not be included in the Great Feast that God offers us. 

Take a few moments to think an aspect of yourself that you would not want to invite to a party.   What would it be like to welcome that part of yourself to a party that Jesus is throwing?  What if Jesus welcomed that part and made them the guest of honour.  How would you feel about that?  That is the part of you that Jesus truly wants at the party.  If we will acknowledge them and offer them to God we will be invited to partake in the Great Feast that Jesus offers us—acceptable parts and unacceptable parts. 

Your Shadow is accompanying you on your journey.  Why not get to know you Shadow and see what it offers you.  That will be a true blessing. 

 

Is Joy More than Happiness?

 I have been experiencing a lot of joy this past week.  That experience is not of joy – rather, it was about joy. I have had more than a few encounters with people writing about joy.

Joy is something I have thought about and pondered in my life.  I must confess that I have had a difficult time really getting a handle on what an experience of joy actually is.  There is lots of theory and exposition about joy but if asked I would have trouble describing the direct experience of joy. I am quite able to know when I am happy but what is joy when it is experienced?

Checking out the definition of joy on-line was not very helpful.  The first source I came across defined joy in terms of happiness - simply “great happiness.”  Another was a bit more detailed, “the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.”  So, can it be that joy is just an exaggerated experience of happiness or is there a difference between joy and happiness? 

Here are excerpts of some of the expositions regarding joy that came my way this week.

Dr. Barbara Holmes’ (1943–2024) makes a direct distinction between happiness and joy:

Make no mistake about it, there’s a real difference between happiness and joy. The sources of happiness are very fleeting. Buy something new and see how fleeting it is. That new car, that new house, they lose their luster in a mere few weeks. True joy is foundational. It’s a basis of God’s love for us, sealed with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Could there be any firmer foundation? 

 

Mystic and theologian Howard Thurman (1899–1981) writes of faith as the most secure foundation for joy.  However, he does seem to conflate joy with happiness but gives us an expanded idea of joy:  

There are some who are dependent upon the mood of others for their happiness…. There are some whose joy is dependent upon circumstances…. There is a strange quality of awe in their joy, that is but a reflection of the deep calm water of the spirit out of which it comes. It is primarily a discovery of the soul, when God makes known [God’s] presence, where there are no words, no outward song, only the Divine Movement. This is the joy that the world cannot give. This is the joy that keeps watch against all the emissaries of sadness of mind and weariness of soul. This is the joy that comforts and is the companion, as we walk even through the valley of the shadow of death. 

 Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis also sees a relationship between joy and happiness:

Joy is that feeling of well-being, pleasure, and happiness that accompanies us as we move through life. It alters the way we see the world, its people, and ourselves. Joy tints our perspective with optimism and the confidence that we will go through the hard things, and though we might be bruised or battered, we’ll come out on the other side. Joy is the wellspring of resistance, the water of life. Now, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and smile from the inside out. There, there it is. Can you feel it? That’s joy!  

Considering all this, it seems to me that happiness is dependent on externalities.  You are happy if life brings you things that give you happiness.  However, joy seems to be something that comes from your inner being – from a deep source that is ironically from both the outside and inside. 

When thinking about joy this past week, I was able to identify an experience of joy when attending a funeral of someone I didn’t know personally – the mother of a colleague.  The funeral service ended with the choir singing the In Paradisum from Faure’s Requiem.  The music was external, but the experience of joy came from somewhere internal.  It was not happiness - it was joy.   I realized that I had experienced that many times before but didn’t recognize it s joy.  May you be blessed with joy on your journey.

Both Hope and Despair

Just after I finished posting my last edition of this blog on the subject of Hope and Despair, Lorna and I had a living example of just that – we had a an experience of both hope and despair.  Our cat Trixie (although she is much more Lorna’s cat) who is an indoor branch of the feline species, took the opportunity to explore the great outdoors.  Now I’m not completely convinced that this is an example of synchronicity, I think it is a candidate for this phenomenon.  Here is Lorna’s description of the event as recorded on Facebook: 

I was gardening and I didn't realize the door hadn't latched. Trixie likes to watch me out the window when I am in the yard. When she noticed the door was slightly open, she decided to explore a bit. I had just finished my work and turned to see a large orange and black cat scoot under the back porch. I was wearing my outside (baseball) hat, which scares her for some reason.

 

I thought it can't be Trixie; Trixie's not that big. Then I saw the open door.

She next ran out from under the back porch - Greg caught a glimpse-and likely went from there under the deck. Ater a few minutes of calling her then googling about indoor cats escaping outdoors, I tramped around the forsythia bush as suggested but I frightened her. She startled me by darting out from under it. She disappeared before I could see where she went

 

Anyhow, we left both doors open and put out treats and familiar smelling things like her litter box and blanket. I had an email from my daughter to distract me.

 

So, just as I got to the point in the email where I was telling her how unnerving it was, and how worried I was and what if she didn't come back, and wasn't it lucky she'd been chipped when I heard a small "meep," so I looked over my shoulder. Greg had just seen her in the bedroom, so he quietly closed the back door, and motioned me to close the front door. She must have walked right behind me without my noticing. Anyhow I tiptoed over and closed the door.

 

She came back about an hour after she got out. So, I have Joanna to thank because I decided to reply to her, and thus let Trixie come in on her own !!!

 

This is a great example of how hope and despair can be experienced in the same event.  The reaction by both Lorna and me swung between both ends of what I can describe as the hope and despair axis – despair that we will never see Trixie and again and we will never have another cat to the hope she will return if we do what Google advises. 

 I hope that any times of despair will be accompanied with hope on your journey. 

 

Hope and Despair

I recently listened to an episode of On Being with host Krista Tippett, which asked the questions: What is filling you with despair? And what is giving you hope?  These are very good questions for these times.  So, I would like to pose those questions to the readers of this blog, what is filling you with despair? And what is giving you hope?

Before you consider these questions, let me clarify what I mean by the terms hope and despair.  Generally, despair is defined as being without hope.  However, this is not all that helpful until we define hope.  I believe it is better, for our purposes, to define this as being resigned to the inevitable; to have no possibility (hope) that the current situation will not improve and will lead to the end that is in front of us and there is no possibility that something will intervene to prevent that from happening.

Turning to hope, it is often the case that hope is used synonymously with optimism.  I can be optimistic that some situation or event will turn out okay in the end regardless – regardless of what?  There is nothing that is required of you to bring about the outcome you are wanting.  Hope, on the other hand, is to my mind, the possibility that things will turn out for the best if forces are brought to bear on that issue and work to bring about the desired outcome.

That force is sometimes – perhaps even often – a divine one which will bring about the best of all possible worlds or at least the best of possible outcome in this case.  This is best expressed by the saying of Julian of Norwich, the 14th century English mystic, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."   However, in hope there is also the possibility thahopt the forces will be based here on earth comprised of people working to achieve the desired ends.  Sometimes these forces combine as in the Social Gospel movement to bring about the Kingdom of God which will encompass the ends that are hoped for.  This can be considered faith in action.

It is easy to despair these days with the wildfires raging across many parts of Western Canada, and warfare raging in Ukraine, and the slow-motion destruction of the Palestinian people in Gaza.  However, we must not give up hope and let despair win. 

So, I will leave you with the questions I began with: What is filling you with despair? And what is giving you hope?  

  

The ‘If Only’ Life

The Gospel reading for Sunday was John 5.1-9 which tells of Jesus healing the lame man by the pool of Bethzatha.  Jesus asks him, “Do you want to be made well?” 

The ill man needed to realize that he would have to approach life in a new and radically different way if and when he was healed.  For pretty much his whole life he had been dependant on others for what he was given.  Now, he would literally and figuratively have to stand on his two feet and become responsible for how he lived his life. 

He probably could not comprehend what that meant.  Therefore, Jesus was asking him if he was ready and willing to live life in a new way.  We don’t know how he fared after the healing in his new life – scripture doesn’t tell us, so we can only imagine. 

But what has it to do with us here and now today?  We are not sitting by the pool of Bethzatha waiting for someone to take us down to the pool to be healed.  But is there an equivalent to that?  We can be waiting for God to make things right in our life.  We can live in the ‘if only’ life.  I would be happy and fulfilled ‘if only’ I had more money or ‘if only’ I had more friends, or ‘if only’ I had a different job – that was a big one for me earlier in my life.  It might be some handicap or illness that someone is experiencing which is quite understandably challenging – who am I to judge the challenges others have in their lives.

But what is the ‘if only’ that is keeping us from living the full life we are intended to live?  Whatever is keeping us from living the lives that God intends us to live, Jesus is telling us that we are loved by Jesus and Jesus will be there to help us and support us just as he was for that man waiting and hoping to taken to the healing waters of Bethzatha. 

Whatever our circumstances, are we ready to live our life in the way of Jesus?  Are we ready to give up the ‘if only’ in our lives?   Jesus is calling us to do just that.  

Where’s the Holy Humour

Bruce Tallman, who is a spiritual Director, wrote recently about attending a lecture by a Michael Higgins on his new book, The Jesuit Disruptor: A Personal Portrait of Pope Francis:

According to (Michael) Higgins, Francis was first and foremost a pastor, a pope of the heart because, although an intellectual like most Jesuits, Francis believed, like Blaise Pascal, that the heart is greater than reason. The heart has reasons of its own that reason alone cannot comprehend. As Archbishop Oscar Romero wrote, “There are things that can only be understood by eyes that have cried.”

I Believe that when we do just that – let our hearts do the thinking we approach what has been called Holy Humour.  I have written about Holy Humour previously.  So, what then do we make of Holy Humour?  Can there be true humor in such a serious thing as religion?  One author who explores this is Helen Luke in her collection of essays, The Laughter at the Heart of Things.  One commentary I came upon summarizes the essence of what Luke is saying very well:

What is at the heart of the matter, according to Helen Luke, is a sense of proportion.  Luke quotes T.S. Eliot and notes that, “Eliot is, expressing here (in the quote) the identity of a sense of humour with the sense of proportion and the humility that this engenders”.  What is at the heart of things the joy of seeing disproportion restored to proportion.

At bottom, the humour is getting us in touch with joy – the joy of being part of God’s creation.  After all, to quote a group of musical religious sister – the Medical Mission Sisters, joy is like the rain.  Perhaps those are raindrops on roses to bring in another song. 

May you be blessed with holy humour on your journey.  Remember joy is a serious matter not to be taken too lightly – too much of the time.  

 

That’s How the Light Gets In

As is often the case, one of the Daily Meditations from Richard Rohr gave me something to reflect on.  This one reminded me of the challenges that we are given and give ourselves to be perfect.  This apparent decree by Jesus to be perfect is something that needs to be reframed or understood differently. 

Divine perfection is precisely the ability to include what seems like imperfection. Indigenous religions largely understand this, as do the Scriptures (see Psalms 98, 104, 148, or Daniel 3:57–82 [1]). In Job 12:7–10, and most of Job 38–39, YHWH praises strange animals and elements for their inherently available wisdom—the “pent up sea,” the “wild ass,” the “ostrich’s wing”—reminding humans that we’re part of a much greater ecosystem, which offers lessons in all directions.   Richard Rohr's Daily Meditations April 30, 2025

Years ago, I discovered a small book, or I should say it found me.  It was entitled A Prayer for the Cosmos by Neil Douglas-Klotz.  This little gem is a translation of The Lord’s Prayer and other saying of Jesus from Aramaic sources.  One of the passages that the book addressed was from the Gospel of Matthew (5: 48).  This is traditionally translated as ‘Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect’.  However, the translation by this author is, ‘Be all-embracing, as you heavenly Father is all-embracing.” 

This passage and similar ones direct Christians to seek perfection and the understanding of God, as all good.  I could not reconcile them with my understanding of humanity as creatures of God, created in the image of God.  This new translation reconciled that dichotomy for me and brought my Perfection Complex into a conscious awareness.  This enables me to reconcile these passages with my understanding of the human psyche.  We are to seek wholeness not perfection.  I will continue to relate to my Perfection Complex in new consciousness and new appreciation for the drive for perfection that has been part of me – recognized or not though much of my life.  I will continue to offer my imperfect offerings to the source of my being which desires my wholeness and not my perfection.

Finally, I offer you my favourite lyrics from Leonard Cohen which encourages us to forget our attempts at perfection:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in

I invite you to reconsider your desire for perfection and let the light into your life. 

Let the Mystery Be

 This morning I am pondering the mystery of life.   I have been fascinated by the Book of Job for many years.  It is something of a mystery why the book of Job was included in the canon of the bible as it puts God in a less than favourable light.  Job becomes the pawn in a celestial wager between God and Satan with dire consequences for Job and his family.  However, the story does have a happy ending for Job – if not for his children who perish. All that Job loses is restored to him including new children to replace those who perished  - as if a child you lose can be replaced by a new child or children - and he lives happily ever after and dies at a ripe old age of biblical proportions.

In the course of the story Job demands an audience before God and demands justice.  However, God is less than sympathetic to Job’s plight and states that God and God’s works are beyond Job’s comprehension.  Job humbles himself and admits to God that it is beyond his comprehension:

Then Job answered the Lord: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ‘Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.’ I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; ⁶therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”     

It is hard for us human being to live in the mystery of life.  We can deny it as some people with a scientific bent try and believe that we will solve the mystery of creation.  Or, as religious people we can try and put God in a nice box that we define and tie up with a bright bow.  However, if we are honest and humble enough, as Job was, we can try and live in the mystery of life. On this subject I will quote Helen Luke, one of my favourite authors who is one of the great explorers of this mystery:

true mystery is the eternal paradox at the root of life itself—it is that which, instead of hiding truth, reveals the whole not the part.  So when, after having made every effort to understand, we are ready to take upon ourselves the mystery of things, then the most trivial of happenings is touched by wonder, and there may come to us by grace, a moment of unclouded vision. 

True paradox can be difficult to understand and to live with but it is in paradox that we can discover God.  I believe that we are called to let the mystery be in all its wonder and respond to God with praise and thanksgiving.  I will close with a verse from my favourite song on this mystery; Let the Mystery Be by Iris Dement:

Everybody's wonderin' what and where they all came from.
Everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go when the whole thing's done.
But no one knows for certain and so it's all the same to me.
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

May you be blessed by the mystery in your life.

 

The Stations of the Cross (2) Adapted from www.preachingpeace.org

 It seems to be human nature that we want to leap over the challenging times of life and get to the good parts.  That is understandable.  However, I believe we need to not avoid the dark nights of the soul and embrace, or at least not deny those times.  How can we begin to know something of ourselves and of God when the dark times engulf us and threaten to overwhelm us?  What can we learn from those times when everything including God seems to have abandoned us?  We desire to quickly move from the despair of Good Friday to the joys of Resurrection Sunday.  I used an adaption of the Stations of the Cross on our Good Friday service. 

Last time I introduced the Stations of the Cross and looked at the first five stations.  This time I will finish our journey with Jesus to Golgotha. 

Station VI: Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem 

“Weep not for me, but for yourselves and for your children.” The women of Jerusalem want to weep for you as though your fate were unrelated to theirs, as though the violence you suffer did not own them as well. You turn their sympathy back on them; remind them that your fate is their fate, too.

How many times have we contemplated your Passion, Lord, and wanted to cry for you? How many times have we wanted to weep because of your pain, and not because we caused it? How often have we blinded ourselves to our complicity in violence by feeling sorry for the victims?

Station VII: Jesus falls Again

Jesus, you have done all that you can do. When you fall this last time, you entrust the remainder of what must be done to us. There is no more strength. You are utterly beaten, defeated, but we are not finished. Like the potter’s clay, we will now make you into what we need you to be.

How many times have we seen another’s weakness as an opportunity to shape them, to change them into what we want them to be? How many times do we take advantage of the fact that you are too weak to resist, Jesus, and fasten you to the Cross?

Station VIII: Jesus is nailed to the Cross

Hanging for hours on a cross is not cruel enough, Jesus. Watching you suffocate will not mollify our rage. Life has been so unfair to us, we have such rage that we have to use nails, instead of the traditional ropes. Rage bleeds away as nails, meant for wood, cut easily through human flesh.

How many times have we allowed our rage to drive us to cruelty? Cruel acts? Cruel speech? How many times has another borne the scars of our rage?

Station IX: Jesus dies on the Cross

We stand in stunned silence as we survey the result of our sin. The Lord of Life hangs dead from the tree. The peace we pursued as we chased you up the hill refuses to come. As we gaze upon you, Jesus, our victim, the realization dawns. Violence will never again bring peace, and we are terrified.

Mute with horror, we stumble to our homes, as though the earth were moving under our feet. The ground itself seems unsteady as we contemplate a world without violence. On what will we stand?

Station X: Jesus is taken down from the Cross.

We have all departed by the time the guards permit those who love you to bring you down from the Cross. Once the spectacle ended, we are compelled to leave. There is something horrible and fascinating about you as you hang there, and it frightens us. We leave the task of dealing with your body to those who are already unclean.

How often, O Lord, have we fled our own horror, left the care of the dead and the dying to others? How many times have we let our fear of the power of death drive us into hiding?

Station XI: Jesus is laid in the tomb 

In a tomb that you could never have afforded, those who did not abandon you, those who refused to join the mob, lay your body to rest with great tenderness. There is nothing divine in the torn flesh, nothing holy in the bloodied brow. There is only sorrow, deeper than the greatest trenches in the ocean. Sorrow.

You will breathe life once again into our deadened spirits, Jesus, but not on this day. Today we walk as those robbed of hope, shuffling from one place to another as though we belonged in the tomb with you. Perhaps, without the breath of your new life, that is precisely where we belong.

Silence

The Stations of the Cross Adapted from www.preachingpeace.org

It seems to be human nature that we want to leap over the challenging times of life and get to the good parts.  That is understandable.  However, I believe we need to not avoid the dark nights of the soul and embrace, or at least not deny hose times.  What can we begin to know something of ourselves and of God when the dark times engulf us and threaten overwhelm us?  What can we learn from those times when everything including God seems to have abandoned us?  We desire to quickly move from the despair of Good Friday to the joys of Resurrection Sunday.  I used an adaption of the Stations of the Cross on our Good Friday service.  Here are the first five stations.  I will finish the journey with Jesus to Golgotha in my next edition.

 Station I: Jesus is condemned to die

Pilate said, “I find no fault with this man,” but when the crowd grew loud, he grew silent. “I wash my hands. You deal with him.” Pilate had the knowledge and the power to stand and say no to the world as it sought to crush the Lord of Life. He didn’t use either.  How many times do I have the knowledge and the power to say no, and stay silent? How many times do I participate, by my silence, in the Passion of Jesus? Who will die because I do not say no?

 Station II: Jesus takes up his cross. 

 This cross has been thousands of years in the making. Its weight grows greater each time I look for someone to blame for the pain in my world. Each time I insist that sin must be punished, I add an ounce to the burden Jesus carries for me.  This is the cross he carries, the cross of blame, of vengeance.  When have I said, “Well, he certainly deserved that!” or “It’s only fair. Look at what she did!”  When have I failed to forgive as I have been forgiven. When have I laid more weight on your blessed shoulders?

 Station III: Jesus falls the first time

The laughter at your first fall is transformative, Jesus. The gathered “I’s” surrounding you laugh together, becoming a “we” for the first time. We laugh together; we reduce you to a joke, to something less than a man. Your first fall is the fall of my “I.” I am lost now, in the collective “I” of the mob.  How many times, Lord, have I sacrificed my “I” as I took satisfaction or pleasure in the fall of another?

Station IV: Jesus meets his mother. 

We want to make you a clown. We want to isolate you completely, but your mother will not permit it. She withstands the blows of taunt and sorrow to be present for you along the way. She alone remains to give you courage, to remind us that you are someone’s child, just like we are.

 How many times, Lord, have we watched another suffer, but from a safe distance? How many times have you looked out through the eyes of another for comfort, but were unable to find it?

 Station V:  Simon helps Jesus carry the Cross 

We need you to die, Jesus, but our rage has gone too far. You are too weak to continue on to the head of the mountain because we have beaten you so severely. When you can’t go on by yourself, we look for a solution that won’t involve us too closely. We mustn’t touch the cross ourselves, but the process must go on. Then we find our answer. A stranger, someone who obviously has no idea who you are will carry the cross. He knows nothing of your innocence. ow many others have we called on to do our violence for us? How many soldiers pulled triggers because we could not? How many executioners pushed buttons for us? 

Ninety Years Without Slumbering

 A week ago, I had trouble sleeping as sometimes happens now that I am in my maturity.  I got up around midnight and took in a rerun of a Twilight Zone episode.  This one was entitled Ninety Years Without Slumbering.  Each episode begins with a narration.  Here’s the narration for this episode:

Each man measures his time; some with hope, some with joy, some with fear. But Sam Forstmann measures his allotted time by a grandfather's clock, a unique mechanism whose pendulum swings between life and death, a very special clock that keeps a special kind of time—in the Twilight Zone.

This episode was based, as you might surmise, on the old song, The Grandfather Clock.  To summarize the song, it has the old man, who is in a close relationship with the grandfather clock, dies when the clock stops shirt, never to go again.

 It was a pretty good episode – not one of the best in my opinion – but enjoyable as almost all the episodes of this classic series are.  It was a clever idea which had a twist at the end as all Twilight Zone episodes must.  The old man in the episode was played by venerable character actor Ed Wynn, who fit the part of the old man perfectly. All well and good.  However, there was a suprize ending for me personally.  I was watching this on the eve of my seventy-sixth birthday on April 1, 2025.  And as I have been saying, at this stage in my life, there’s no fools like an old fool.

The surprise for this fool was that the Sam Forstmann character played by Ed Wynn was – you guessed it – seventy- six years old.  Now you have to appreciate that Ed Wynn appeared in my eyes to be exactly what he was portraying - an old man.  There was no way, in my mind’s eye, that I was an old man – even if I was about to turn 76.  I am able to rationalize the dissonance of this by saying that 76 today is not what it was in 1963 when it was aired.  In those ancient days 76 was old – wasn’t it?  Well, I can consol myself that 76 today is the new fifty or perhaps 60 – if I want to kid myself.  Some days I don’t feel that old.  However, some days I do – especially after a less than good night’s sleep.

In any case, I must admit that I don’t look 50 or even 60 if I look closely at my reflection – if the lighting is good.  My days are dwindling down to a precious few- or hopefully, perhaps more than a few.  It matters more than even what I do with the time I have left – however long that is.

Thoughts for the journey.

 

ordo amoris

Time seems to be taking on a life of its own in Trump-time and things might have happened yesterday or a few weeks ago – perhaps that is a result of Trump ‘flooding the zone’ in every possible way in the United States and beyond its borders.  A while ago? – United States Vice-president J.D. Vance used a theological term, ordo amoris, to justify the Trumpian approach the United States government is using in its actions to eliminate foreign aid. 

Here’s the statement by Vance on this:

But there’s this old-school concept—and I think a very Christian concept, by the way—that you love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.

Basically, Vance is using this principle to justify the approach by the Trumpian government to say charity begins and ends at home.  I guess he might grudgingly agree that if the needs of all Americans are met, they might give the few crumbs under the Trumpian table to non-Americans.  Putting aside the conclusion that the Trump government is doing everything they can to not share the wealth with people at home, this understanding of ordo amoris seems to be off base to say the least.

I must admit that I was unfamiliar with ordo amoris before it was used by Vance.  One definition on-line defines it this way:

"Ordo amoris," meaning "order of loves" or "ordered loves," is a theological concept explored by St. Augustine in his "City of God," emphasizing the importance of loving God above all else and arranging our affections in a way that reflects God's goodness.

I believe that Vance, who recently converted to the Roman Catholic faith, should perhaps review what Jesus Christ said about all this.  He stated, when asked which are the greatest commandment, replied:  

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  There is no commandment greater than these.

The account in the Gospel of Luke has a smart-ass lawyer asking Jesus in response, “who is my neighbour.”  Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan.  The lawyer was probably the J.D. Vance of Jesus' time, but he seemed to get the point that charity Is not restricted to the home-front.  Jesus chose the Samaritan to be the example to live up to because they were not who that lawyer or other Jews thought of as their neighbours.  They were, in effect, the black sheep of the Semite family. 

So, does odor amoris mean that we should give to foreigners in needs above those close to us – starting with our family and working outward and eventually getting to some person or persons we don’t know in a far away land – if there is anything left to give? 

Here is a good response I found on The Catholic World Report https://www.catholicworldreport.com/2025/02/10/vice-president-vance-the-good-samaritan-and-the-order-of-love/

The principle of the ordo amoris, however, is a counsel of prudence; it is not an absolute moral maxim; it presupposes that all other things are equal. But if all other things are not equal, our evaluation of whom to prioritize may change. A greater need in a more distantly related neighbor, which I can alleviate here and now, should often be given preference over a lesser need in a more closely related neighbor.

The principle in all this is Love.  This is the message of Jesus Christ.  The challenge of Christians is, how do we show the love of Jesus to our neighbours.  Something to contemplate and respond to on your journey.

  

The Parable of the Stones

 I was rereading chapter 4 of the Prodigal God, by Timothy Keller, in preparation for our book study tomorrow.  Keller recounts the apocryphal parable i.e. not in the bible, of Peter and the stones.  It is recounted below:

One day Jesus said to his disciples: “I’d like you to carry a stone for me.”  He didn’t give any explanation. So the disciples looked around for a stone to carry, and Peter (bless his heart), being the practical sort, sought out the smallest stone he could possibly find.  After all, Jesus didn’t give any regulation for weight and size! So, he put it in his pocket.

Jesus then said: “Follow Me.” He led them on a journey.
About noontime Jesus had everyone sit down. He waved his hands, and all the stones turned to bread. He said, “Now it’s time for lunch.”  In a few seconds, Peter’s lunch was over.  When lunch was done Jesus told them to stand up.

He said again, “I’d like you to carry a stone for me.”
This time Peter said, “Aha! Now I get it!” So, he looked around and saw a small boulder. He hoisted it on his back, and it was painful, it made him stagger.  But he said, “I can’t wait for supper.”  Jesus then said: “Follow Me.” He led them on a journey, with Peter barely being able to keep up. Around supper time Jesus led them to the side of a river. He said, “Now everyone throw your stones into the water.”

They did. Then he said, “Follow Me,” and began to walk.
Peter and the others looked at him dumbfounded.
Jesus sighed and said, “Don’t you remember what I asked you to do?  Who were you carrying the stone for?”

In this season on Lent, it may be helpful to consider what stones you are carrying and for whom you are carrying them.

Being Truly Humble

I am currently leading a Lenten book study at my church, St. John the Evangelist, Strathroy, Ontario.  We are studying The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller.  The book is an analysis of Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son. 

One of the points the author makes is that the Father in the parable puts aside his station and acts in a way that the patriarch in his time would not.  He accedes to the demand of the younger, prodigal son to give him his share of his inheritance.  Keller notes that this is like the son saying to the father, you are dead to me as the inheritance would not be given until the father was dead.  If this happened in that time, the father would normally have disowned and driven out the son in disgrace.  Further, when the prodigal younger son comes to his senses and returns in defeat, the father sees him in a distance and runs to greet him.  Keller notes that in those times, a patriarch would never run as it was undignified.

In effect, the father in the parable is portrayed by Jesus as putting aside his pride and humbling himself because of his love for his son.  I would like to explore what it means to be humble.  I believe that the key to true humility is to see yourself clearly. 

Cole Arthur Riley declares, “I linger in the mirror, and I don’t look away.”  To see yourself and not look away is, I believe, key to self-knowledge which, in turn, is necessary for true humility.  It can be a challenge to see yourself clearly.  I remember reading a definition of humility that really grabbed hold of me.  To be truly humble is to see yourself clearly.  This was a bit of a puzzle initially, but on reflection, I realized that if you see yourself clearly you will realize that you are not the self-image that you have constructed for yourself – this is sometimes called the persona.  To look in the mirror and not look away is to see yourself clearly with all the wrinkles and spots - age spots and a hairline which seems to be receding each day.  Of course, that is the physical part of myself.  It is also true for the soul and spirit as well as the body.  The impulse is to look away or at least not look too closely at any of these parts.

Author Judy Cannato speaks of an alternative way of looking at yourself in all your imperfections.  It is to take a long loving look at the real:

She speaks of the approach to contemplation by “Dorothee Sölle [1929–2003] who maintains that radical amazement is the starting point for contemplation. Often, we think of contemplation as a practice that belongs in the realm of the religious, some esoteric advanced stage of prayer that only the spiritually gifted possess. This is not the case…. The nature of contemplation as I describe it here is one that lies well within the capacity of each of us. To use a familiar phrase, contemplation amounts to “taking a long loving look at the real.”

God knows – literally and figuratively – that there are aspects of myself which I wish I didn’t have.  They are the ghosts that visit me at 4:00 in the morning – things I have done I wished I had not done or had done differently and the things I had not done I wish I had done – it is tempting to complete this with the line form the prayer in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, ‘and there is no health in me’.  But no matter in what way my reality of myself does not live up to my self-image, I know that there is health in me because I am created by a loving God. 

However, what I have learned over the years is that I am loved despite, or perhaps even because, of who I am.  I can love myself because this is the way that I was made with my strengths and weaknesses.  I can love myself because God created me this way and God loves all that God created.  I have not learned this easily and am still learning it.

I will close with another saying about humility, ‘being truly humble means that you cannot be humiliated.’  As someone who has been humiliated at times in my life, I know that I have not achieved true humility despite my best efforts.  That is something I can seek this season of Lent.

May you be blessed to greet the person you see each morning in the mirror with humility and also acceptance and understanding.

 

Lent for All of Us

 Sunday was the first Sunday of Lent.  Lent is not something that you will find in the bible.  There is no Lenten observance in the bible.  It was not and is not part of the Jewish religion, so it was not something that Jesus observed or even the first Christians who were all Jews. It is one of the seasons in the church year like Advent or Pentecost or Christmas or Easter.  Advent and Lent are similar in that they are times of preparation.  Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas and in the same way Lent is preparation for Easter. 

Lent began last Wednesday, and we marked it with the Ash Wednesday observances.  If you were at the Ash Wednesday service here or other places you would have received a cross in ashes on your forehead.  The ashes were produced by burning the palm crosses from last Easter. 

When the priest marks you with the cross, he or she states, ‘remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.’  It is a reminder that we are mortal and our time on earth is limited.  We must consider how we use that time.  We know that we do not always live the life God intends for us.  That is one way of looking at sin.  We sin when we separate ourselves from God and do not live God intends us to live. 

So, we are now in a time of preparation for Easter.   We have forty days in total to reflect on our lives, to repent those things that keep us from being in relationship with God.  We do this in two ways.  First we acknowledge that we have done things we should not have done and commit to not do them.  Second, we acknowledge those things we have not done that we should have done and commit to doing them.  We know that being human and imperfect we will not succeed all the time but we have the intention of making the effort to do just that.  Often in Lent we focus on giving up something as a sacrifice.  We will forego something that we desire as a way of following God.  We can give up a favourite food or some activity we enjoy as a symbol of our need to change our lives.  You could call this the way of negation.  You can also take the way of affirmation by doing something that you have not been doing previously.  This could be contributing time, energy, and financial resources assist those in need. 

Lent is, in its essence, a Christian practice.  However, it can be helpful for non-Christians.  Here is a quote from a Christian source, Anne Germond, the acting Primate of the Anglican Church of Canada, which can be applied to everyone’s life in this time:

But what if we thought of Lent as a God-given time of disruption the normal flow of our lives, inviting us to re-examine them, laying bare and shining the spotlight on all that is wrong – the pathological unease or “disease” in our world?  In the context of global warming, greed, violence abroad and at home, and of our inability to seek peace with our neighbours…

 

I found the following on the internet which addresses both ways – giving up things i.e. fasting and doing something new i.e. feasting or feeding our souls:

Fast from fear; Feast on Faith
Fast from despair; Feed on hope.
Fast from depressing news; Feed on prayer.
Fast from discontent; Feast on gratitude.
Fast from anger and worry; Feed on patience.
Fast from negative thinking; Feast on positive thinking.
Fast from bitterness; Feed on love and forgiveness.
Fast from words that wound; Feast on words that heal.
Fast from gravity; Feast on joy and humour.

May we all find ways to fast and feast in this season of Lent. 

It’s a Good Life – Perhaps Not

The ambush that took place in the White House Oval Office last week on the President of the Ukraine by U.S. President Trump and Vice-President Vance, brought to mind one of the classic episodes of the classic T.V. 1960’s series the Twilight Zone.  The episode was, It’s a Good Life, which first aired on November 3, 1961.

Here is a partial plot summary from Wikipedia which give a good summary of why this episode was dredged up from the depths of my memory:

Six-year-old Anthony Fremont has godlike mental powers, including mind-reading. He has isolated his town of Peaksville, Ohio, from the rest of the universe. The people must grow their own food, and supplies of common household items, such as bar soap, have been dwindling. He has blocked television signals and caused cars not to work. He creates grotesque creatures, such as three-headed gophers, which he then kills. Everybody is under his rule, even his parents.

The people live in fear of Anthony, constantly telling him how everything he does is "good", since he banishes anyone thinking unhappy thoughts forever to a place that he calls "the cornfield." Having never experienced any form of discipline, he does not understand that his actions are harmful. He is confused when his father tells him that the neighbors are reluctant to let their children play with him after he sent several of his playmates to the cornfield.

This does seem to be prescient warning about what can happen when someone who has no moral compass and has not been taught no constraints about wanting everything and being given absolute – or almost absolute power.  The havoc that can be wreaked is almost beyond our imagination – but not completely - as shown in the Twilight Zone episode. 

The dangers and challenges of great/absolute power has been recognized since time immemorial.  The famous saying, with great power comes great responsibility, originated with French philosopher Voltaire and spilled into the culture by Uncle Ben's cautionary warning to a young Spider-Man’s altar ego Peter Parker. 

The danger of unchecked power even arose in the apocryphal stories about the life of a divine child i.e. Jesus the future Christ, with the potential for divine abilities.  One example shows him using his divine abilities to less than harmless results:

IV. 1 After that again he went through the village and a child ran and dashed against his shoulder. And Jesus was provoked and said unto him: Thou shalt not finish thy course (lit. go all thy way). And immediately he fell down and died. But certain when they saw what was done said: Whence was this young child born, for that every word of his is an accomplished work? And the parents of him that was dead came unto Joseph, and blamed him, saying: Thou that hast such a child canst not dwell with us in the village: or do thou teach him to bless and not to curse: for he slayeth our children.

So, you can see that great power does not necessarily lead to great irresponsibility and chaos, as in the case of the mature Jesus.  However, it can, as it seems to be manifesting in the current U.S. President.  It led to wonderful things in this case, but it seems less to have good results in the case of President Trump.  However, miracles do happen.

I hope your encounters with power may be a blessing for you on your journey. 

True Forgiveness

 I have just finished rereading, The Return of the Prodigal Son, by Henri Nouwen.  This is a wonderful exploration of Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son which recounts Nouwen’s engagement with Rembrandt’s masterpiece which depicts the homecoming of the Prodigal son.

I will reflect on the book in total another time.  Right now, I want to consider the concept of forgiveness which Nouwen explores in the book.  Nouwen recounts his journey which was initiated by the encounter with the painting. On that journey, Nouwen identified with each of the three principal characters in the parable – the prodigal son, the elder brother, and the father.   In his identification with the father in the parable, Nouwen explores the idea of spiritual fatherhood.  For Nouwen, the key to this is forgiveness.  However, he acknowledges that “Forgiveness from the heart is very, very difficult.  It is next to impossible.”  However, as he states this is one of the commandments that Jesus gives to his followers, “When your brother wrongs you seven times a day and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I am sorry, you must forgive him.”

Nouwen does unpack just how difficult true forgiveness:

I have often said, “I forgive you”, but even as I said these words, my heart remained angry or resentful.  I still wanted to hear the story that tells me that I was right after all; I still wanted to hear apologies and excuses; I still wanted the satisfaction of receiving some praise in return – if only the praise of being so forgiving.

Unfortunately, these words ring true in my ears.  I have found that true forgiveness is not a matter of saying the words.  It is a matter of the heart.  Unfortunately, I believe that, in my experience, the church has not done justice to what true forgiveness is.  It encourages forgiveness in Christian; however, it does not acknowledge how difficult true forgiveness is.  It doesn’t acknowledge that talk is cheap.  True forgiveness does not come easily or without cost – at least for most of us.  True forgiveness is a journey which will require an exploration of the heart, as well as the mind, soul, emotions and the body. 

You are able to tell if you have been blessed with the gift of true forgiveness if you no longer wake up in the middle of the night filled with the thought of how badly someone has treated you; how unfairly you have been treated by that person; and yes, how deep in your heart – or elsewhere – you truly want revenge for what that person has done.  If you no longer are haunted by that ghost visitor, it is likely that you have been blessed by true forgiveness. 

I believe that true forgiveness is a gift from God, and we are blessed if we have received it.  However, even though it is freely given, it is not without cost.  It is the cost of exploring who you truly are and the revelation of some truths about yourself that may not be welcome.  However, as with all that God blesses you with, it is truly a blessing.

May be blessed to find true forgiveness on your journey.  

But Darkness Did Not Overcome It

Recently, the feed in my YouTube channel brought up a podcast on the revelations regarding the actions of Jean Vanier who founded the L’Arche communities for developmentally challenged people.  A report released in 2020 into allegations of sexual abuse by Vanier and Thomas Philippe, a Catholic priest who was Vanier’s spiritual mentor concluded:

The key finding in the report: That Vanier’s founding story about the creation of L’Arche was false. Vanier often said he started L’Arche in response to hearing a “cry” from God and seeing the inhumane conditions prevalent in mental institutions. In reality, the creation of L’Arche provided a means for Vanier to reconstitute a sect Philippe had led earlier but that had been broken up by the Catholic Church.

This news sent shockwaves through the religious and spiritual world and shocked the countless number of people who held Vanier to be a modern saint.  Vanier’s impact has been and continues to be almost immeasurable on those who have been positively impacted by the many L’Arche communities in so many countries and by the writing in the prolific books by Vanier.  Fortunately, one positive aspect of the terrible situation was that the report concluded that the abuse by Vanier and Philippe, “did not involve any of the members or residents that the organization served there or elsewhere.”  They involved vulnerable adults who came under the influence of the specter of holiness enabled by the L’Arche communities. 

I was introduced to the work of L’Arche communities during my theological studies at Huron University College.  I was blessed with the opportunity to experience the wonderful work that is done there when I was able one reading week to live with the L’Arche Daybreak community in Richmond Hill, Ontario.  The life of that community and their wonderful acceptance and upholding of all the members of the community as well as the respect and support for each member has left a lasting impression on me.  In revisiting the exploration of the tragedy, I wanted to see if I could better understand how someone who seemed to be so saintly could be what can only be described as evil at his essence.

I decided to reread one of the books by Jean Vanier which I had on the shelf in my office - Becoming Human.  I reread the book with the awareness of the revelations of the actions of Vanier and the realization he had founded L’Arche as a means to carry out his perverted theology which, “Vanier and Phillipe were fully committed to a spiritual deviance that they fully believed in themselves.” 

I have very mixed emotions rereading Becoming Human.  I found Vanier to be very insightful in understanding the need for love, need for community, and the need for security that is at the heart of human existence.  Vanier shows this in statements such as, “We do not discover who we are, we do not reach true humanness, in a solitary state; we discover it through mutual dependency, in weakness, in learning through belonging.”  Statements confirm that Vanier had a deep understanding of the human condition, “To be human is to be bonded together, each with our weaknesses and strengths, because we need each other.”

Vanier was able to use this knowledge and insight to prey on that very weakness to accomplish his wicked and perverted goals.  The paradox of Vanier is that, in founding L’Arche he has been the source of great goodness for so many and at the same time, he caused great suffering to the victims of Vanier and Phillip’s evil actions. 

All this is a huge red flag warning about placing individuals on saintly pedestals that can cloud the need for discernment and safeguards by institutions and individuals in how and who we place our trust.  The L’Arche organization set an example for how such revelations should be handled once they come to light.  L’Arche funded the investigation in the actions of Vanier and Phillippe and were open and transparent about the findings. 

One small but significant question that is raised for me is what should I do with the book in my possession and what should become of the many copies of the works Vanier has authored?  Should they be destroyed?  Book burning is not a great idea under any circumstance that I can imagine.  There is great truth and even wisdom in what Vanier has written.  Unfortunately, it was not reflected in who Vanier was.  Perhaps there should be a warning label pasted in every copy.  I will include a copy of this edition of my blog within the covers of my book. 

Let this be a cautionary tail for us on our journey.  

More Synchronicity and You: Exploring Your Experience

 

 

 Dreamwork Canada presents

 an opportunity via Zoom to explore

our dreams as a means of deepening                  

and expanding our spirituality.

 

 More Synchronicity and You: Exploring Your Experience 

 led by Greg Little

Join us:
     Tuesday, March 11, 2025 from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. EST  (two hours) 
     On Zoom
     Cost: $40, or pay what you can

 In his essay, On Synchronicity, Carl Jung declares, “I have therefore directed my attention to certain observations and experiences which, I can fairly say, have forced themselves upon me during the course of my long medical practice. They have to do with spontaneous, meaningful coincidences of so high a degree of improbability as to appear flatly unbelievable.” Jung named these “meaningful coincidences” synchronicity. 

In our last workshop in January, Jung’s concept of synchronicity was introduced and explored using examples that were offered by Jung and by the workshop leader.  In this follow up workshop we will delve more deeply into how to identify synchronicity from mere coincidence and provide opportunity for participants to explore the concept more fully and explore personal experiences of synchronicity.  In small groups, participants will have an opportunity to discuss their experiences of synchronicity and explore the impact on their lives. 

Since Dreamwork Canada believes that exploring our dreams is essential to our psychological health, participants will also have an opportunity to examine dreams in a group experience. We invite participants to bring one of their dreams to share in the small group. 

Led by Greg Little, an Anglican Priest and Honourary assistant at St. John the Evangelist Anglican Church in Strathroy, Ontario. He is a Certified Dream Group Leader and spiritual director from the Haden Institute.

Registration deadline: March 10, 2025 

To register: 
Step 1  Send your name and e-mail address to dreamworkcanada104@gmail.com so we can forward the Zoom link to you.
Step 2  Send your payment by e-transfer to dreamworkcanada104@gmail.com or request an alternative method of payment.  E-transfers are automatically deposited, no passcode required.
 
Questions?  Contact the registrar at dreamworkcanada104@gmail.com