Carrying The Olympic Flame

There was one moment that stood out for me from the many moving moments of the opening ceremony of the Olympics. It was the lighting of the Olympic torch. It didn't go the way we thought it would. There was no one special person selected to light it. There were many vessels that received the light and passed it on to others. As each connected, a circle of light was formed. Then each light was raised, as we will someday be. As they were lifted up, each individual light came together to form one light, one Olympic cauldron as a symbol for all to see.

 Only after the flame was lit did we begin to understand the brass vessels we had seen being carried so carefully in gloved white hands as the athletes from each participating country entered the arena. They were symbols of what each country held and carried to these world games: the best of their athletes. But they seemed to also be symbols of our souls, held and carried so tenderly by God, lit with His eternal flame which we pass along to those near us, igniting a global, growing Christic consciousness that we may never be able to fully understand or see until we view it from above. "E pluribus unum,"  a Latin phrase on the currency of the United States along with In God We Trust, translates from the many, one. One light. One world. One God. Indivisible. With liberty and justice for all. We saw each carrier of an Olympic torch dial it open to keep the flame lit. May we remember to do the same with our hearts to be enflamed with the fire of God's love. As others connect with us, a circle of love will be form around the world that will pierce its darkness with divine, healing light. It is not only time for the Olympics. It is time to hold up the light of our shared divinity, the power of God's love for the world to behold. It probably won't go the way we think it will. There will be no one special person who makes it happen. All we have to do is carry the light so others can see it and connect to it. God will raise it up. It will be inspiring to watch.

The Will to Choose our Actions

"By their actions (they) have been turned into animals."     In my online contemplative community, we are reading through Cynthia Bourgeault's book, The Wisdom Jesus. The above comment referenced the crowd's sadistic cruelty against Jesus

in the mob scene on the road to Calvary. It is true that our actions lead us (and others).  I'm fairly certain we have all had the experience of joining in some kind of activity with others that carried us further than we intended to go.  What struck me with this phrase was a memory from Gerald May's Will and Spirit which we studied long ago in an earlier version of this community. Before the actions, we always have the choice of will to take such actions, or having taking action, we can exercise the will to stop such.   The power of our actions - both from our strengths and weaknesses - are mighty signs to others. This is where our praxis such as the Jesus Prayer, Guard of the Heart, or Divine Mercy chaplet can come to our aid in forming/containing/correcting our will to be that of God's.  So aligned, our actions will keep us like little lambs.... like the Lamb of God.   We know all too well the brutal bestiality of the Prince of Darkness who reigns across many lands and peoples in our world today as well as the past.  May we all hold strong to our inner responsibility. I read only this morning in St. Faustina's Diary, Divine Mercy in My Soul, of Jesus asking her to save a certain dying sinner by saying the chaplet He taught her.  She "saw the man dying in the midst of terrible torment and struggle.  His Guardian Angel was defending him, but he was, as it were, powerless against the enormity of the soul's misery. A multitude of devils was waiting for the soul.  But while I was saying the chaplet, I saw Jesus just as He is depicted in the image. The rays which issued from Jesus' Heart enveloped the sick man, and the powers of darkness fled in panic.  The sick man peacefully breathed his last.   When I came to myself, I understood how vey important the chaplet was for the dying. "

Abiding

“Abide in me as I abide in you.” Jesus speaks these words in John 15 in the well known “I am the vine, you are the branches” parable of which songs and poems have been written over the centuries. I like metaphors and I therefore always loved the rich imagery of God as the vinegrower and pruner. I never paid much attention to His command to abide.

Theologian and storyteller Dr. Meg McKenna references this abiding in her introduction to Harm Not the Earth. The verb “abide” is used eleven times in the first eleven verses of John 15. “It is a very religious and biblical word, and one that is not often used in familiar conversation. It means: to tolerate, endure, act in accordance with, remain faithful to (as in a promise). One always abides ‘in’ – it isn’t something one does alone.”

That puts a whole new spin on Jesus’ “wherever two or more are gathered in my name.” He promises His presence with certainty when two or more people pray together. He’s also present when I am alone in prayer without another person, for He is one and I am one and we are one together.

Ever since I read her words several days ago, I've been struck with Jesus' side of abiding in our relationship; what he is tolerating and enduring me the way spouses and friends tolerate and endure each other's idiosyncracies and stubbornnesses; and how He is "acting in accordance with" who I am being and how far I am allowing Him into my heart and life. If I can expand my time with Him, He can expand His work through me. If I can open more of my heart to Him, He can increase my compassionate response to all who my words, my glance, my touch, my voice can reach. In truth, they are His words, glance, touch, and voice to begin with for I am His. He will act in accordance with what I give Him.

When my children were growing up, we'd call them into the front room away from the rest of the house when we wished to speak to them privately. They were always a bit nervous when we did so, for their immediate fear was they'd done something wrong and were about to be chastised. Our response to Jesus when He says, "Come to me (all you who are weary)" is often the same. Our desired conversation with our children was certainly sometimes to correct an approach they were choosing, but more times, it was an encouragement, a suggestion of help with something that was challenging them, or a secret surprise we were planning for another family member.

"Abide in me" requires our choice to do so. He can abide in us only "in accordance with" how much we allow Him to do so. Our gift of free will is unretreivable; God will never take it away. It is eternally ours and honored by God. Our biggest challenge seems to be going to the front room without fear, in complete trust in the enormous gentleness and exquisiteness tenderness of love filled with mercy and faithfulness of the very One Who created us in the first place.