Preferring Nothing to Christ

Isaiah 55:10-11
Matthew 13:1-23

I spent yesterday at our Diocesan Assembly for my diocese of Northampton. Over three hundred and fifty people gathered as Pilgrims of Hope. We shared our love for the Church and our hopes and dreams for the future. We faced the difficult topics with courage and a willingness to really listen to the Spirit.

The whole day was framed around speaking and listening. There were times of collective silence where we were encouraged to let the words we had just heard ‘sink in’. Reading today’s Gospel I hear a parallel with good soil providing the conditions for roots to grow down and the practice of silence providing the conditions for words to sink in.

In the monastic tradition there is a rhythm of word and silence. We gather fives times a day to pray services that are almost entirely composed of Scripture. It is this which provides the soil of our hearts. Periods of the day are spent in silence. Day after day, year after year, we are creating the conditions for God’s word to take root in us.

Today’s parable of the Sower and the Seed speaks to the various times in my life when the ground has been very rocky and almost nothing seemed to take root. These times have sometimes been followed by some surprising growth. Often I haven’t even realised that something has shifted. A tiny shoot has grown bigger and stronger. It is Scripture that has enabled this growth.

And the one who received the seed in rich soil is the man who hears the word and understands it; he is the one who yields a harvest and produces now a hundredfold, now sixty, now thirty.

How can you make space this week for God’s Word to take root in you?

I’m posting twice today for the Feast of St Benedict. I was reading this morning and was reminded of one of my favourite monastic stories. It’s too good not share.

Sr Aquinata Bockmann is a missionary Benedictine Sister and an expert in the Rule of St Benedict. She has told the story below many times in the course of her teaching. I found it in a talk she gave on Wisdom Leadership in the Rule of St Benedict. She begins by explaining that a monastic community is on a journey together, ‘strong and weak’ alike. This common journeying is made explicit on the novice’s profession day. The novice signs a document which contains his commitment to live the monastic life, he places it on the altar and then sings the following:

Receive me, Lord, as you have promised, and I shall live; do not disappoint me in my hope.

The community repeat this as sign that from this day forward the novice and community are bound together. So they become responsible for each other, to help each other on the way. The abbot is the guarantee that this will really be done. Every person in the community learns to be attentive to the needs of others.

‘As Novices in springtime we went to the potato fields of our farm. We began in the morning at one side, and had to be at the other side in the afternoon. Each one of us had a hoe to weed around the potato plants. As I was not so strong, after some time I was left behind, and thoughts of discouragement crept in: “The monastic life is too heavy for me, I will not make it; I better go.” But then, looking before me, I saw that the Sister from my right side had already weeded some plants in my line. I got new hope and was again together with all. But after some time once more I fell behind. “I am not strong enough for this life”, – the same thoughts! I have to say that all my doubts about my monastic vocation lie on these potato fields … Looking ahead, I discovered, that the Sister from my left side had weeded several plants for me. And again I was in line with them. I do not know how often this happened; in any case we arrived together at the other side.

When we had our jubilee together, we talked about our past experiences. I asked, looking to the surrounding potato fields: “Do you know that you saved my vocation here on these fields?” They answered: “We put always one strong Sister to your left, and another strong one to your right side.” So I had a good occasion to thank them. To me this became a deep symbol for our monastic community life. It is true, that sometimes we want to give up, or we feel left behind, – but in the deepest sense, our Sisters carry us along. And we do the same with all our Sisters. According to this model, the strong ones used their strength to help the weak; and the weak did not flee, because they were supported by the strong ones. The strong and the weak; – the Sisters are not always aware to help out. Here the leader’s task
becomes evident, to help this common journey being realized.’

Have you had a similar ‘potato field’ experience?
Thank God for it.

Proverbs 2:1-9
Matthew 19:27-29

My son, if you take my words to heart,  
if you set store by my commandments,
tuning your ear to wisdom,  
and applying your heart to truth:
yes, if your plea is for clear perception,  
if you cry out for discernment,
if you look for it as if it were silver,  
and search for it as for buried treasure,
you will then understand what the fear of the Lord is,  
and discover the knowledge of God.

This text from the Wisdom literature of Proverbs resonates immediately for followers of St Benedict. St Benedict begins his Rule is this way:

‘Listen carefully my son, to the master’s instructions and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice.’

There is a groundedness and loving measure in each text. I can’t hear one with out the other. This is one of the gifts of the monastic path that your ear, and ideally your heart too, become more finely tuned.

It’s from this place of attentive listening and desire to seek God that I hear Peter’s heartfelt question: ‘What about us? We have left everything and followed you. What are we to have, then?’ Following Jesus, following St Benedict or following any leader is a risky enterprise. I am sure that there comes a point in every monastic’s life when they could very easily voice Peter’s question. Jesus’ response to Peter tells us something of the dynamic at work here: we are to receive ‘a hundred fold’. Following Jesus involves a heart that is both open to giving up AND receiving. In many ways the giving up looks more straight forward. Learning to receive what God offers becomes the lifetime’s work of the monastic and anyone who wants to follow Christ.

How is God calling you to give and receive today?

John 20:24-29
I have heard this quotation from writer, Anne Lammot, many times:

‘I have a lot of faith. But I am also afraid a lot, and have no real certainty about anything. I remembered something Father Tom had told me–that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns.’

First my thoughts turn to Thomas in today’s Gospel and then to myself. Thomas’ freedom to voice his uncertainty gives me freedom too. Jesus meets Thomas where he is. He honours his heartfelt request. From this place of acceptance Thomas makes one of the strongest faith statements in the Gospels: ‘My Lord and my God.’

My own spiritual journey has all the outer trappings of certainty. The regularity of the rhythm of a monastic day shapes and a contains many things. However, within that there have certainly been times when difficulties have loomed large. I have often stood with Thomas and felt that I was the only one that ‘wasn’t getting it.’ Many times it has been a question of waiting until the light returns. I’ll always be glad of Thomas.

Have you ever stood with Thomas?
Which question would you ask of Jesus?

Romans 6:3-4,8-11

Matthew 10:37-42
Every so often we are presented with a text from the Gospels where no matter how we turn it around, we are left with an image or a concept that is just plain difficult.

‘Anyone who prefers father or mother to me is not worthy of me. Anyone who prefers son or daughter to me is not worthy of me. Anyone who does not take his cross and follow in my footsteps is not worthy of me. Anyone who finds his life will lose it; anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.’

The radical commitment to discipleship that Jesus asks of each one of us is presented today in the starkest of terms. We can’t wriggle out of it. Perhaps the key to understanding just how this might work in our lives is found in today’s text from Romans.

‘When we were baptised in Christ Jesus we were baptised in his death; in other words, when we were baptised we went into the tomb with him and joined him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life.’

This is one of my favourite texts from Paul. Here we see that at baptism we were incorporated into the Paschal mystery. This was God’s free gift to us. It means that we carry within in us the life, death and resurrection of Christ. It’s this divine life which is our pattern and our hope that we have all we need in order to be able to follow Christ.

Choosing Christ above all else is worked out in the ordinariness of our lives. Family and community bonds will aways be part of this. This text cant be asking us to turn away from our family or community. While the specifics of radical discipleship which Christ asks of each one of us can’t be planned for or predicted, we can commit to walking daily in the grace of our baptism and trust that God will do the rest.

In what small way can you follow Christ more closely today?

John 21:15-19

That Peter and Paul share a feast day has always struck me as a testament to the fact that from the beginning the Christian community had to navigate different styles of leadership and different opinions. Peter had first hand knowledge of Jesus and Paul did not. It is almost inevitable that they wouldn’t see eye to eye.

In John 21 Jesus asks one of the most poignant questions in all of the Gospels: ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?

Peter will spend the rest of his life living out his response: ‘Yes, Lord, you know I love you.’ From his Damascus experience to his missionary journeys, Paul too spends the rest of his life living out his response to this fundamental question.

I’ve often imagined myself being in Peter’s position and wondered what my own reply would be.

How would you respond to Jesus?

Luke 1:57-66,80

What will this child turn out to be?

I have always loved this line from Luke’s account of the Birth of John the Baptist. The reader knows just who he will turn out to be. And yet, I am always caught up in a feeling of expectancy and possibilities. An earlier line in the account kindles a similar feeling of expectancy for me:

The time came for Elizabeth to have her child, and she gave birth to a son; and when her neighbours and relations heard that the Lord had shown her so great a kindness, they shared her joy.

This longed-for child is already surrounded by a network of love and joy. I’d like to think that it is from this implicit place of security that John was able to make his radical choices and follow a path that would eventually lead to martyrdom. No parent would wish this for their child, and yet, there Elizabeth and Zechariah stand as models of righteousness and faith. Their trust in the power of God’s promises was truly tested.

I have to confess to being a little unnerved by many of the portrayals of John the Baptist that I have seen on films etc. There is always an element of the ‘wild man’ about him. And the puzzling detail of surviving on locusts and wild honey can make it very hard to identify with him on a human level. (Now the leather belt and sandals are a different matter, as they are part of my everyday wardrobe!) I can however identify with the clarity of his preaching. That one word, REPENT, change of heart, is the essence of the Benedictine vow of Conversio Morum. It’s a daily call to reorientation and to making space for God. It’s through this vow that I have the opportunity to grow a little more each day. In truth, we never stop growing and never stop asking of ourselves: ‘What will this child turn out to be?’ And, thankfully, what’s not always clear to us, is always clear to God.

How has the Lord shown you great kindness? How can you share your joy?

Matthew 24:4-13

In the Collect for today’s feast we hear these words;

‘graciously grant that, strengthened through the intercession of Saints John Fisher and Thomas More, we may confirm by the witness of our life the faith we profess with our lips.’

This encapsulates the basic truth that the faith into which we were baptised is something which permeates every aspect of our lives. Our baptism into Christ’s death and resurrection will mean that suffering will never be far away. But by the same token, joy and new life will be within our grasp too.

When Matthew writes his Gospel and warns of persecution and danger, his hearers have already experienced the fragility of belonging to a minority group. They face hostility on all sides. Every story where Jesus meets opposition is a paradigm for the resolve that they will need as the Christian community grows. Matthew’s urges them not to be ‘alarmed’. To be followers of the Way necessarily involves suffering.

When we celebrate Sts John Fisher and Thomas More we celebrate the potential of every human being to be single-hearted and to choose what is noble and true.

Where in your life is Christ calling you to be single hearted?

Deuteronomy 7:6-11
1 John 4:7-16
Matthew 11:25-30

If the Lord set his HEART on you and chose you, it was not because you outnumbered other peoples: you were the least of all peoples. It was for LOVE of you and to keep the oath he swore to your fathers that the Lord brought you out with his mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt.

The Book of Deuteronomy is a favourite of mine. Commentators have drawn my attention to the fact that ‘heart’ is mentioned forty-one times. For the biblical writers the heart signifies the interior mystery of each person. It is here that love, trust and faithfulness have their roots. The heart of God is the place of deep mystery and of love. When God sets his heart on the people of Israel it was from a place of pure love. There is risk involved in this covenantal love.

In the First letter of John we hear echoes of the covenantal love outlined in the text from Deuteronomy. God’s choice of Israel calls a new community into being. For the writer of the First Letter of John the imperative to love has its roots in God’s initiative:

My dear people,
let us love one another
since love comes from God
and everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.

In the Gospel text from Matthew we hear some of the most consoling words in Scripture:

‘Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.’

The imagery of the yoke prompts several different avenues of interpretation. Yokes were traditionally fitted to enable two oxen to work together. Some suggest that a younger ox was paired with an older ox so that the younger could learn from the older. This image has much potential. When we yoke ourselves to Christ we will learn gentleness and humbleness of Christ. Whatever our burden, Christ doesn’t say that he will take it away, but rather he will show us how to carry it. The yoke relied on two oxen being able to work together. In time the younger ox would be paired with another ox and so pass on the learning.

As I have worked with each of these texts I have heard resonances with the Rule of St Benedict. In his touchstone chapter on Good Zeal (Ch 72) St Benedict speaks in three different ways about love. To each other the monks are to show ‘the pure love of brothers’, to God ‘loving fear’ and to their abbot ‘unfeigned and humble love’. We can find each of these modes of love in the readings today.

Wherever we find ourselves today, whatever our circumstances, the invitation is the same: love one another.

How can you be a channel of God’s love today?

Deut 8:2-3, 14b-16a
1 Corinthians 10:16-17
John 6:51-58

For many years anthropologists told us that the sharing of food was something unique to humans. More recent studies suggest that some species of primate will share food, but not tools or toys. Some species will not fight back if their food is taken. This is of course, is a little different to voluntary sharing. For humans the emergence and development of voluntary sharing may well have played a significant role in human evolution. It helped ensure that essential needs were reliably met, and this food helped feed ever-larger brains.

On a simple level our ability to share strengthens the bonds of community. And by the same token our inability to share weakens the bonds of community and damages the roots from which love can grow.

In the first reading from Deuteronomy we are reminded of the wilderness wanderings of the people of Israel and their lament and grumbling over the lack of food. God’s provision of manna is a sign to the Israelites that they are to rely directly on providence. Jewish scholars say that the manna was thought to taste like whatever food a person most craved. I like this detail. It speaks to me of a God who knows us and provides for our individual needs. They are to gather only what they need for each day. There is to be no hoarding. God is teaching them that life according to Torah involves a trust that individual needs will be met and the whole community strengthened.

In the text from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians he is reminding the community that the ‘one loaf’ and ‘one cup’ are active symbols of the unity he longs for them to live. From the beginning of the letter he urges against factions:

I urge you, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, not to have factions among yourselves but all to be in agreement in what you profess; so that you are perfectly united in your beliefs and judgements.

When he speaks about the Eucharist he is a speaking of an action that at its very heart holds the seeds of unity.

The Gospel text from John 6 echoes the thought worlds of the other two texts. Chapter 6 begins with the Feeding of the 5,000. This miraculous sign of multiplying and sharing provides the backdrop for Jesus to speak of himself as the Bread of Life. This teaching is set firmly in the context of a vast group of people who through this miraculous sign are now bound together as a community. What they witnessed that day will have changed them forever.

Today when we gather to celebrate the Eucharist we make a statement about who we are as individuals and who we are as community. We receive Christ’s broken body as a pledge of love and hope of healing for the world. Christ lives in and among us. At the end of the Eucharistic celebration you may hear these words: Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life. As we leave the church we are commissioned TO BE the Body of Christ.

How can you be the Body of Christ this coming week?