A Mystical Image for Service - Ron Rolheiser

2009-11-08

When the young French mystic, Therese of Lisieux, was trying to explain her vocation, she referred to a soul-searing insight that was once given her:

One Sunday, looking at a picture of Our Lord on the Cross, I was struck by the blood flowing from one of his divine hands. I felt a pang of great sorrow when thinking this blood was falling on the ground without anyone's hastening to gather it up. I was resolved to remain in spirit at the foot of the Cross and to receive its dew. ... I don't want this precious blood to be lost. I shall spend my life gathering it up for the good of souls. ... To live from love is to dry Your Face.

At one level, this can be seen as an image of simple excess piety, an over-pious young nun sitting in a chapel, admiring a crucifix and getting emotionally over-wrought in an imaginative scene of Jesus being abused and crucified. But this is a metaphor, a mystical image, and a very challenging one.

When Therese of Lisieux speaks of Christ here she is referring not just, nor even primarily, to the body of the historical Jesus, but to the body of Christ in this world. Christ is still suffering and blood is still flowing from his face and his hands in many parts of our world. One of our tasks as Christians, and simply as human beings, is to, metaphorically, notice that blood, gather it up, and properly honour it. The Christian task, always, is to stand at the foot of the cross and gather up its dew so that this preciousness is not lost.

How do we do that?

• When Amnesty International, or any group or individual dedicated to justice, goes to war-torn and violent parts of our world, documents the violence there, and lists publicly the names of all those who have been made to disappear, they are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• When a nun leaves the safety and security of her own country and community and travels to Sudan to be with women who are being raped and documents their stories, she is standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• When a friend on a playground rushes in after an incident to console the vulnerable young person who has just been humiliated by the school bully, she is standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• When a man, like Greg Mortenson, steps out of a life of privilege and comfort to risk everything, including life itself, to build schools in the most rural parts of Pakistan so that young Muslims, especially young Muslim women, can receive an education, he is standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• When men and women dedicate their lives to working with the mentally disabled so as to help enable the lives and dignity of those whose talents are different, they are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• When an idealistic young person joins the peace-corps, or becomes a missionary, in the sincere desire to help someone who is less privileged, he or she is standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

And ...

• Whenever any of us takes time at our place of work or in our home to listen to that wounded soul who has worn out everyone's patience with complaints and whining reminiscences, we are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• Whenever any of us makes the effort to listen with empathy to that frustrated friend, colleague, or sibling, who is wrapped-up in jealous frustration because his or her life has not turned out as he or she had dreamed, we are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• Whenever any of us notices another's achievement and sincerely congratulates and blesses him or her on that success, we are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

• Whenever any of us, empathically, pray for all those people in this world whose dreams are being crushed and who are suffering the martyrdom of obscurity and anonymity, we are standing at the foot of the cross, receiving its dew, and hastening to gather it up.

Blood still flows from both the hands and the face of the one being crucified. Mostly it goes unnoticed, with no one hastening to gather it up.

Our task, like that of Therese of Lisieux, is to notice, and the make sure that this preciousness does not go unnoticed, unmarked, without its proper honour.

"Happy Are Those Who Thirst for Justice" by Richard Rohr

from Sermon on the Mount by Richard Rohr

and

The Saints Who Live Short Lives - Henri Nouwen

As we see so many people die at a young age, through wars, starvation, AIDS, street violence, and physical and emotional neglect, we often wonder what the value of their short lives is. It seems that their journeys have been cut off before they could reach any of their goals, realise any of their dreams, or accomplish any of their tasks. But, short as their lives may have been, they belong to that immense communion of saints, from all times and all places, who stand around the throne of the Lamb dressed in white robes proclaiming the victory of the crucified Christ (see Revelation 7:9).

The story of the innocent children murdered by King Herod in his attempt to destroy Jesus (see Matthew 2:13-18), reminds us that saintliness is not just for those who lived long and hardworking lives. These children, and many who died young, are as much witnesses to Jesus as those who accomplished heroic deeds.

The Significance of Each Life - Jean Vanier

It is always good for individuals, communities and indeed nations, to remember that their present situation is a result of the thousands of gestures of love or hate that came before. This obliges us to remember that the community of tomorrow is being born of our fidelity to the present. We discover that we are at the same time very insignificant and very important because each of our actions is preparing the humanity of tomorrow; it is a tiny contribution to the huge and glorious final humanity.

- Jean Vanier, Community and Growth, p.152

 Tonight, I help Srey Boul, new house help, finish up her bag... making the strap and putting in the zipper... I feel "grandmotherly" affection for each project... this one is so like it's mother maker!

From Another Secret Garden style - Srey Boul

"A Negative Sacrament?"- Richard Rohr

from Letting Go:  A Spirituality of Subtraction