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.  

Joy to the World

Last Sunday was the third Sunday in Advent, also known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is Latin for ‘rejoice’ and the third candle is the pink/rose coloured one (the other three are red).  But why pink?  One source I consulted notes, “Long ago the Pope would honor a citizen with a pink rose (or a rose rose?) Priests then would wear pink vestments as a reminder of this coming joy.”

I have, in the past, pondered the difference between joy and happiness and I don’t think I have a complete handle on the difference.  As far as I can determine, happiness is a reaction to specific events and joy is a state of being.  When we sing the carol “Joy to the World the Lord is come,” it means that we are declaring that the world is in a state of joy as the Prince of Peace is born.  However, he is not the Prince of Joy as that is the state we experience when peace reigns in the world. 

In any case. I have been, not surprisingly, encountering joy in many things I have read in the last few days.   The Advent reflection for December 17^th which I receive in my inbox notes that we have the anticipation of joy when we consider the birth of the Christ child:

As we move toward the manger, we sing with great gladness. The song is ancient, sung by the heavenly host and repeated by the shepherds as they traveled to see the Christ child. Glory to God in the highest. O come let us adore Him. The song carries the weight of the hope of believers through the ages. It is a song of expectation, of anticipation, of joy and wonder.

In another case, I was drawn to reading The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen which explores the painting by Rembrandt of the parable.  The painting came up in my session with my Spiritual Director.  Nouwen notes that the joy experienced on the return of the prodigal son was driven out by the resentment felt by the older brother:

But this shout of joy cannot be received.  Instead of relief and gratitude, the servant’s joy summons up the opposite: “He was angry then and refused to go in.”  Joy and resentment cannot coexist.  The music and dancing, instead of inviting joy, became a cause for even greater withdrawal. 

Nouwen notes that he had experienced a similar reaction as that of the older brother:

But my anger was so great at not being told about the party that I couldn’t stay.  All of my inner complaints about not being accepted, liked, and love surged up in me, and I left the room, slammed the door behind me.  I was completely incapacitated―unable to receive and participate in the joy that was there.  In an instance, the joy in that room had become a sense of resentment.

 So, other than giving up the comfortable feeling of resentment, how do we achieve joy?  One clue was in the prayers of the people on Sunday.  In the prayers we give thanks for many things; for being called to be the people of God, for the community of faith throughout the world, the privileged of ministering to others, and for the countless gifts of God we have received.  Giving thanks to God in all things. This will go a long way to experiencing joy. 

Nouwen notes that it can be a choice, “Every moment of each day I have the chance to choose between cynicism and joy.  Every thought I have can be cynical or joyful.  Every word I speak can be cynical or joyful.”  I believe that this is a great part of a joyful life.  However, in no way is it easy and should not be made to seem so.  I do not have a natural inclination to joy.  That is part of who I am.  I think many people are not naturally joyful and it does take a conscious effort to cultivate joy in one’s life.  Giving thanks to God in (not for but in) all things is the way to approach it, even if it doesn’t seem to come naturally to many of us.  Thanks be to God. 

Blessings on you journey and may your experience be one of joy. 

The Prodigal People of God

During our Lenten journey I have been introducing to our congregations various ways in which we can be more open to God’s presence in our lives. We have now explored three different methods.  The first two were the Lectio Divina and the Labyrinth.  Yesterday we explored dreams as a way in which God speaks to us.  I have attached my sermon for your consideration.

 There are positive and negative images or archetypes in dreams in Carl Jung’s theory of dream work.  This is true of most, if not all things, in life.  This is also true for doing a sermon series such as we are doing during Lent.  The positive is that we can explore one subject in more depth than is often possible following the lectionary of appointed scripture in preaching.  This is true of our theme of Spiritual renewal which we are exploring during Lent.  The negative aspect of this is that we can miss opportunities to explore the scripture passages which are provided in the lectionary.  This is particularly true of the Gospel yesterday which is the parable of the prodigal son.  This parable is one that provides many possibilities of exploration in sermons and in bible study.

I want to take this opportunity to explore briefly this parable in my reflection today.  One of the best explorations of the prodigal son teaching of Jesus is by Henri Nouwen.  His book, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, is a wonderful resource for this.  He uses the painting of this event by exploring the classic painting by Rembrandt.  Here are two quotes from the book which I hope will give you a sense of where Nouwen is going with his exploration.

“For most of my life I have struggled to find God, to know God, to love God. I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual life—pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures—and to avoid the many temptations to dissipate myself. I have failed many times but always tried again, even when I was close to despair.

Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “How am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming

Nouwen’s genius, in my view, is to get to move beyond the obvious understanding of the parable which is coming home to God the Father who is waiting to welcome us to the banquet.  He asks how are we to let God into our lives?  God is there waiting for us to return.  Can I put aside my egocentric position and allow myself to be loved by God.  This is not easy by any stretch of the imagination.  We will fail many times as Nouwen confesses he has but we can forgive ourselves as God forgives us and try and try again seventy times seven times.  God will still be waiting no matter how long it takes.   

May your Lenten journey be blessed. 

Sermon February 14, 2016 Lent 1

We are now in the season of Lent.  Last Wednesday should have marked with the imposition of ashes on our foreheads with the words, “remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.  Unfortunately Mother Nature did not cooperate and we did not observe Ash Wednesday or Ash Thursday.  Therefore today, in addition to being the First Sunday in Lent will be Ash Sunday and we will mark it with the imposition of ashes. 

Lent is a time to put into focus not only our mortality and all that that means, but also our humanity.  We are created in the image of God and are called to live in a way that will explore and fulfill that image.  Lent is especially a time in which we can focus on the renewal of our calling to answer that call from God to become more fully a reflection of God incarnate—the image of God made flesh.  It is a time of spiritual renewal. 

One of the great prophets of Spiritual Renewal is Henri Nouwen.  He had a great connection with the L’Arch Daybreak Community in Newmarket living there in the final years of his life.  In his book entitled Out of Solitude Nouwen writes:

In solitude we become aware that our worth is not the same as our usefulness. We can learn much in this respect from the old tree in the Tao story about a carpenter and his apprentice:

A carpenter and his apprentice were walking together through a large forest. And when they came across a tall, huge, gnarled, old, beautiful oak tree, the carpenter asked his apprentice:

"Do you know why this tree is so tall, so huge, so gnarled, so old and beautiful?"  The apprentice looked at his master and said: "No . . . why?"

"Well," the carpenter said, "because it is useless. If it had been useful it would have been cut long ago and made into tables and chairs, but because it is useless it could grow so tall and so beautiful that you can sit in its shade and relax."

Nouwen goes on:

In solitude we can grow old freely without being preoccupied with our usefulness and we can offer a service which we had not planned on. To the degree that we have lost our dependencies on this world, whatever world means--father, mother, children, career, success or rewards--we can form a community of faith in which there is little to defend but much to share. Because as a community of faith, we take the world seriously but never too seriously. In such a community we can adopt a little of the mentality of Pope John, who could laugh at himself. When a highly decorated official asked him, "Holy father, how many people work in the Vatican?" he paused a moment then replied, "Oh, about half of them I suppose."

Spiritual renewal is not just a personal calling; it is a special calling of the church in the world today.  It is a renewal that is not is not based on action and activity in the outer world. 

Our culture is very good at that and the church also sees the need in our society and responds by doing things to meet the needs which are there.  However, there is another kind of renewal which is unique to the church and is something that our society is very much in need of—it is Spiritual Renewal. 

One of my callings is as a Spiritual Director.  In 2014 I completed a Spiritual Direction program offered by the Haden Institute and the Mount Carmel Centre in Niagara Falls.  In the program I learned how to help people discern where God is in their lives and how to be more aware and open to where the Holy Spirit is calling them.  For the past three years I have been working particularly with theology students at Huron University College to accompany them on their journey with God. 

The ministry of Spiritual Direction is actual not the best name for what we do.  The Spiritual Director does not actually direct the directee.  Rather a Spiritual Director is a companion on the person’s spiritual journey.  There are actually three persons in Spiritual Direction—the Director, the Directee and the Holy Spirit.  It is the Holy Spirit who does the direction and shows both the Director and Directee the way in which God is working in their life.

During the Sunday’s in Lent, I propose being the Spiritual Companion for St. Anne’s and St. John’s.  Each week we will explore a different way in which we can learn to pay closer attention to how God is working in our lives and where The Holy Spirit is calling us to travel in this Lenten journey which lies ahead of us.  It is also my hope that you will find some of these ways to be meaningful for you and that you will chose to incorporate one or two of them into your lives on an ongoing basis.

I will close with the prayer I use to begin a Spiritual Direction meeting. 

Celtic Prayer for Spiritual Direction (Adapted)

Bless this time, in the name of the Three who are over us.

Bless this time, in the name of the One who guides us.

Open our eyes to see how our lives

Can reflect something of You.

Aid us in understanding Your will

With our hearts as well as our minds

Give us the wisdom to discern Your intention for us;

The strength to follow the path You prepare for us;

And Your comfort on the journey You offer to us.

Amen 

The Prodigal Father (4): the Ways of Compassion

Recently, I have written about the Henri Nouwen’s striving to aspire to be like the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son.  Nouwen’s book The Return of the Prodigal Son describes his exploration of the parable which was initiated by his encounter with the painting by Rembrandt based on the parable.

Nouwen saw that what it meant for him to aspire to be like God the father was to be compassionate.  Nouwen states that the most radical statement Jesus made was, “Be compassionate as your father is compassionate”.  He acknowledges that this is in no way easy for him.  To do this you must live a life that is based on cooperation rather than competition—which, of course, is truly radical in today’s culture.   However, he identifies three ways to a truly compassionate fatherhood.   These ways of compassion are; grief, forgiveness, and generosity.  Last week I explored the first way; grief.  Today I will explore the second way; forgiveness.

As Nouwen notes, “Forgiveness from the heart is very, very difficult.  It is next to impossible.  Jesus said to his disciples: ‘when your brother wrongs you seven times a day and comes back to you and says ‘I am sorry,’ you must forgive him.’”  The words are certainly easier than change in heart which is required to truly forgive.  We are trained as children to say we forgive even when we don’t feel it or believe it.  When the parents say to the child ‘say you are sorry’ the child may say it to placate the parent but he or she probably is only sorry that they were caught in the wrongdoing.

 A few years ago I read about one person’s struggle with forgiveness that illustrates how hard it is to truly forgive.  An Anglican priest in England, resigned her holy orders because she found that as hard as she tried she was unable to forgive, to truly forgive, the drunk driver who had killed her child.  She believed that as a Christian and a priest she was called to forgive that person and was unable to do it.  This shows us that true forgiveness is not cheap or easy.  It is more than just say the words.  To truly mean it is a long hard journey.

As Nouwen notes, “God’s forgiveness is unconditional; it comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself, a heart that is completely empty of self-seeking.  It is this forgiveness that I have to practice in my daily life.”  Fortunately God’s forgiveness is there for us unconditionally when we fail to do likewise.  Thanks be to God.  

The Prodigal Father (3): the Ways of Compassion

Last week I wrote of the Henri Nouwen’s striving to aspire to be like the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son.  Nouwen’s book The Return of the Prodigal Son explores his exploration of the parable which was initiated by his encounter with the painting by Rembrandt of the same name based on the parable.

Nouwen saw that what it meant for him to aspire to be like God the father was to be compassionate.  Nouwen states that the most radical statement Jesus made was, “Be compassionate as your father is compassionate”.  He acknowledges that this is in no way easy for him.  To do this you must live a life that is based on cooperation rather than competition—which, of course, is truly radical in today’s culture.   However, he identifies three ways to a truly compassionate fatherhood.   These ways of compassion are; grief, forgiveness, and generosity.

I will look at each of these ways this week and subsequent weeks beginning with grief.  Nouwen notes that there is no grief without tears; either tears that flow from our eyes or tears that flow from our hearts.  He notes that there is no shortage of things to grieve over in this world, “When I consider the immense waywardness of God’s children, our lust, our greed, our violence, our anger, our resentment, and when I look at them through the eyes of God’s heart, I cannot but weep and cry out in grief.” 

For there to be tears of grief I believe that there must be an open heart.  As one who has not always had the gift of tears of compassion that came to me often or easily, I am aware that it is because my heart has not been open to much of the waywardness in the world.  I have had a protective wall around my heart that requires breaching.  To enable this to happen, we must be open to being hurt by the world. 

Nouwen proposes that much of grieving is prayer.  A good prayer for the grief that comes from compassion is to prayer that the walls around our hearts will come tumbling down like the walls of Jericho.  Blessings.  

The Prodigal Father (2)

In my last installment I reflected on The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henry Nouwen.  Nouwen noted that he saw himself in both the elder son and the younger prodigal son.  Nouwen sees how his have been reflected in the prodigal, “In a spiritual sense, I found myself squandering all I had been given by my father to keep the friendship alive.  I couldn’t pray and longer.  I had lost interest in my work and found it increasingly hard to pay attention to other people’s concern.”

Nouwen also finds the elder son in himself.  As he describes it, “ The obedient and dutiful life of which I am proud or for which I am praised feels, sometimes, like a burden that was laid on my shoulders and continues to oppress me, even when I have accepted it to such a degree that I cannot throw it off”.    

Nouwen discovered that he not only identified with both sons but it also dawned on him that he could aspire to be like the father.  He realized as a beloved son of God the Father he was called to aspire to be like the father.  Now this could be thought of as trying to be God like.  People certainly have been guilty of that and will continue to do that.  However, he saw what it meant for him to aspire to be like God the father was to be compassionate.  Nouwen states that the most radical statement Jesus made was, “Be compassionate as your father is compassionate”.

Nouwen’s vision of living that aspect of God is a vision of love.  This is the core message of the Gospel.  We are called to show our mercy, our compassion for others and for the world as God shows compassion; God’s all-embracing love for God’s creation.  For Nouwen, this means that to live a life of compassion it cannot be one that is based on competition.  Rather it must be one of cooperation.  Nouwen freely admits that this is far from easy.  He confesses, “Against my own best intentions, I find myself continually striving to acquire power.  When I give advice, I want to know whether it will be followed; when I offer help, I want to be thanked; when I give money, I want it to be used my way; when I do something good I want to be remembered”. 

I can in no way claim that I do not want—no deeply desire— all those things that Nouwen confesses to.  That is the problem.  They are natural for people to want these things.  That is why the message of Jesus— to be merciful as your Father is also merciful; to love one another as he loves us—is so radical.  That is why—at least in large part, why Jesus was crucified by the powers of this world—by the civil powers of the Roman Empire and the religious powers that controlled the life centered on the temple.  We know that when we try to live as Jesus commands us we are going to fail.  However, we are called to try.  We need to try to give without expecting to receive.  Try to imagine what it would like to do that—giving joyfully without any expectation of receiving anything. ..  We are called to do good without being motivated to have that act acknowledged in the world.  We know that we are going to fail, to fall into sin—do those things that separate us from God.  However, we also have the assurance that our sins will be forgiven.  We have the assurance that God’s love for us is not conditional on living a perfect life without sin.  Otherwise none of us would be loved and we know that God does love us.  Thanks be to God. 

The Prodigal Father Reconsidered

I am currently reading The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henry Nouwen.  It is a wonderful exposition on the painting by Rembrandt which is based on the parable of the Prodigal Son.  The interpretation of the parable by Nouwen considers the father of the story to be a representation of God the Father.  This is not unexpected.  He also explores the impact of the painting on him and his developing realization that he was both the elder son who is dutiful and stays home and the younger, prodigal son who demands his inheritance, lives the life of a wastrel, and them repents and returns home to the father in a chastened state. 

Nouwen’s understanding and theology of the parable is that father (as God) is all good.  As he notes, “This is not a story that separates the two brothers into the good and the evil one.  The father is only good.  He loves both sons”.  The elder son is depicted by Jesus, and is understood by Nouwen in the parable as the one who is resentful of having to be the dutiful one.   He is likened to the scribes and Pharisees, groups that Jesus was critical of.  The elder son did his duty—all the law required—and ended up resentful of the loved showered on the prodigal son when he returned.  The parable expresses this very vividly:

He was angry and reused to go in, and his father came out and e retorted began to urge him to come in; but he retorted to his father, “All these years, I have slaved for you and never once disobeyed any orders of yours, yet you never offered me as much as a kid for me to celebrate with my friends.  But, for this son of yours, when he comes back after swallowing up your property—he and his loose women—you kill the fatted calf”. 

In reading Nouwen’s declaration that “The father is all good”, the question arose in my mind, “is the father actually all good?”; is there perhaps some fault in the father that contributed to the reaction by the elder son?  If we consider the characters in the parable not be archetypal or universal representations of God’s kingdom; the father as an earthly father and the sons earthly children of that father, is then father entirely good?  Put it another way, does the elder son have a valid complaint about the way he was treated?  The father, as story presents him, shows unconditional love.  He welcomes the prodigal son back with open arms literally and celebrates his return not expecting or wanting the prepared mea culpa of the younger son.  He also goes to the elder son and asks, no begs him to come into the feast and celebrate the return with him. He assures the resentful son that, “all I have is yours”. 

However, I believe we are left wondering if the father took the elder son for granted.  Here he was dutiful and obedient and did all that was asked of him.  But as the elder son says that the father never gave him so much as a kid for him to celebrate with his friends.  This leaves me with the impression that the father did not express the love he obviously had for the elder son in concrete ways.  Perhaps if he had the resentment would not have been there.  Perhaps the brother would have been more well-disposed to celebrate the prodigal brother’s return.  I believe that Jesus, in telling the story, was concerned with putting the brother in the role of the Pharisees and scribes that were lurking around wanting to find a gotcha to use against Jesus.  Jesus directed the lesson of the parable specifically to those who he was especially critical of.

However, if we take the father as a representation of our Heavenly Father, I believe that Nouwen’s understanding of the father as all good is valid.  I believe that God does offer us affirmation and the great feast.  I believe that that God’s love is offered to us freely and unconditionally.    It is for us to hear know and to respond to that love.  Often we are unable or unwilling to do that.  However, with God all things are possible.  

The Return of the Prodigal Son (Rembrandt)

Sermon March 2, 2014 Usefulness in Uselessness

Matthew 17:1-9

Can you think of a wonderful experience in your life?  It could be the first time you fell in love.  It could be your wedding day – although that is often such a whirl-wind of activity that it is hard to remember.  It could be crossing the threshold of your first house.  It could be the first day on your first job.  It could be the first day of retirement.  It could be eating a meal or other activity with people who you know truly love you and who you.  It could be the first experience of feeling completely safe after living in an abusive relationship.  It can be such a wonderful experience that you wish deep down that you could hold on to that experience forever.  Later we often hope that we can recapture that wonderful feeling and there is a sense of loss when we realize that it is just not possible to relive that particular experience again.

Given our reaction to want to hold on and claim wonderful experiences we can certainly understand Peter’s reaction to the wonderful vision before him: “3Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 

Peter’s reaction is to do something – build dwellings so that they could hold on to what he was seeing.  To understand this amazing, wonderful vision we have to realize the significance of these two figures to the Jews in Jesus’ time.  Moses and Elijah were central - you could say iconic figures in Judaism.  They were the personification of the two central components of their religion – the law and the prophets.  Moses was the law Giver who had received the Law from God – the Tablets of the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai.  Elijah was the quintessential Prophet.  In an epic battle Elijah defeated the priest of the foreign god Baal who had been introduced to Israel by King Ahab.  His end on this earth is also magnificent as we are told that when he was walking with Elisha, his successor:

11As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. 12Elisha kept watching and crying out, ‘Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!’ But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces. (2 Kings 2: 7-8)

Both are unique in Judaism.  Moses is the law giver and Elijah does not die on earth but is the taken up to heaven in heavenly chariots.  Is there any wonder that having these two people with Jesus affected Peter so strongly?  Would we not want to do just what Peter wants – to hold on to that wonderful scene for as long as he could?  He must do something – he must act on this impulse – he must build three dwellings to contain them.

Peter’s reaction to do something resonates strongly with our culture.  We are very much a world in which we are told and taught that we must act if we are to be successful and if we are to make our mark in the world.  Even the church falls into this belief.  We are told we must act to build up God’s kingdom.  We are told that we must “Renew” our Diocese if we are to survive and thrive in this world. We need to have a mission statement to have a ministry. St. Stephen’s is a Bishop Luxton Church.  Bishop Luxton responded to his times by a significant church planting in the midst of where people were – in subdivisions where the church would be part of the community.  I suspect that is why there is no parking lot with St. Stephen’s – people would walk to church.  Today we are given a new response to our situation – we are to paint the church doors a bright colour.  Churches are to be planted on busy intersection. 

There is nothing wrong with all this.  And I am not suggesting that the church doesn’t need to be in the world and respond to the perceived needs of the culture.  However the church also has a tradition of a different kind of response to where we are and where God is calling us.  It is a different kind of renewal that is very foreign to our culture today – a spiritual renewal. 

One of the great prophets of Spiritual Renewal is Henri Nouwen.  In the last part of his life he had a great connection with the L’Arch Daybreak Community in Newmarket living there in the final years of his life.  In his book entitled Out of Solitude Nouwen writes:

In solitude we become aware that our worth is not the same as our usefulness. We can learn much in this respect from the old tree in the Tao story about a carpenter and his apprentice:

A carpenter and his apprentice were walking together through a large forest. And when they came across a tall, huge, gnarled, old, beautiful oak tree, the carpenter asked his apprentice: "Do you know why this tree is so tall, so huge, so gnarled, so old and beautiful?"

The apprentice looked at his master and said: "No . . . why?"

"Well," the carpenter said, "because it is useless. If it had been useful it would have been cut long ago and made into tables and chairs, but because it is useless it could grow so tall and so beautiful that you can sit in its shade and relax."

Nouwen goes on:

In solitude we can grow old freely without being preoccupied with our usefulness and we can offer a service which we had not planned on. To the degree that we have lost our dependencies on this world, whatever world means--father, mother, children, career, success or rewards--we can form a community of faith in which there is little to defend but much to share. Because as a community of faith, we take the world seriously but never too seriously. In such a community we can adopt a little of the mentality of Pope John, who could laugh at himself. When a highly decorated official asked him, "Holy father, how many people work in the Vatican?" he paused a moment then replied, "Oh, about half of them I suppose."

 We are on the cusp of the season of Lent which begins this Wednesday with our Ash Wednesday service. It is the perfect time to renew our lives in that way which is a special calling of the church in this world – spiritual renewal.  Our Gospel lesson closes with a commandment of Jesus as they descended from the mountain top experience, “Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead’.”  There is a time for action and a time for reflection and renewal.  Let take time this lent for reflection and spiritual renewal.  Amen.