The Presence of God in Our Ordinary Lives

Dear Friends,

Already the Christmas trees are long gone, the manger figures, Christmas decorations and albums are stored for another year. Lent looms on the horizon, coinciding this year with Valentine’s Day – a combination to touch our hearts, for sure. But here’s the very important realization that could escape us if we let it.

The Incarnation of the Word, the Son of God, continues to be with us 

today and everyday throughout the year, 

throughout our lives, in our homes and in our world, 

without exception. 

Jesus is one of us.

Sit with that thought as often as you can. Realize what it means for our daily living. We can easily miss the immensity of this act of God, because we are inclined to equate the Incarnation with Jesus, whose new-born life we celebrate at Christmas as a past event. We think of His presence as a thirty-three year experiment – a one shot incursion of God into human history. After His ascension, Jesus “retires” – is gone from this life.

The truth is that God continues to come today. We can be unaware of God’s incarnation today or we can nourish this truth. We nourish it as we pay attention, watch, listen, absorb, catch the God-presence in our ordinary lives, our homes and workplaces, our places of recreation as well as worship, in the places of our chance encounters that stir something good and holy in us.

This sort of living and thinking is not automatic. It comes only with work and practice. But the good news is that the impetus for such God – awareness is already ours – a gift of our Baptism, embedded in our beings when we became one with Christ in the Body of Christ. We were immersed in water, anointed and given the Light of Christ to launch us on our journey of faith. Our parents, godparents and older adults had to see us through, until we could be aware enough of God-with-us, and then the work was ours to carry on.

To add another depth of realization, the Dominican Herbert McCabe tells us that “God loves us personally. It is not some vague, warm feeling for the whole human race. God loves us personally and intimately, more personally and intimately than we can love ourselves. God is more personally concerned for my good and for my happiness right now than I can be for myself.”

As the year unfolds, let the love of God for you unfold. Let it find you growing and becoming all you can be.

It is an incarnational journey we are on.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Flight into Egypt

Dear Friends,

Last weekend, our Church celebrated the feast of the Epiphany, and this week, we already find the adult Jesus gathering His first disciples, who came to Him through the generosity of John the Baptist.

But the whole community, gathered for Eucharist on weekends, is not given a chance to concentrate on the Holy Family, refugees from the violence of Herod as it is told in Matthew 2.13-18. The Gospel for the Feast of Holy Innocents, December 28, does tell us of the flight into Egypt, but most of us are not at Mass that day to hear it and to reflect on its meaning for us today.

The flight into Egypt is a way of realizing that God accompanies us in our darkest moments, when we leave all things behind except what we can carry.

Some Scripture scholars trace the route of travel of the Holy Family from Bethlehem to Ascalon in Gaza, then through Rafah and the coast road down to Egypt. Sound familiar? Today, Palestinians are trapped in Gaza and can’t pass through the Rafah Border Crossing into Egypt without proper documentation. The plight of the refugees continues.

Left behind as the Holy Family flees are the families with children two years old and under, to be subjected to the cruelty of Herod. Elizabeth, Zachary, and little John lived in the targeted area. Don’t you wonder how they escaped?

But back to the Holy Family. There are many stories told in the Coptic Orthodox Church about the movements of the family as they sought safety. The tourism branch of the Egyptian Government today has recently created the Holy Family Trail, leading pilgrims and tourists to various sites that, in the Coptic tradition, are stopping off points for the Holy Family as they made their way.

One of those sites has a true historical accuracy -- the Church of Saint Sergius (Abu Serga) in Cairo. Contained within the massive church is the Cave of Refuge, where Jesus, Mary and Joseph were sheltered. (Still another cave in the story of Jesus! Go back to my Christmas Eve blog for others.)

You and I are not the only ones who see this story come alive in another day. Others have meditated on its reappearance over the centuries. In the early 1940s, Thomas Merton wrote a poem about the flight into Egypt in his time.

                Through every precinct of the wintry city
                Squadroned iron resounds upon the streets;
                Herod’s police
                Shudder the dark steps of the tenements
                At the business about to be done.

                Neither look back upon thy stary country.
                Nor hear what rumors crowd across the dark
                Where blood runs down those holy walls
                Nor from a childish blessing with Thy hand
                Toward that fiery spiral of exulting souls!

                Go, Child of God, upon the singing desert
                Where with eyes of flame,
                The roaring lion keeps Thy road from harm.
                                (Thomas Merton, 30 Poems, 1944)

In our time, or any time of war and destruction, we are never finished experiencing the flight into Egypt.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Story of the Magi

Dear Friends,

Happy Epiphany or Little Christmas, whatever you call it, but do celebrate the Feast of the Three Magi.

These three learned Masters of Studying the Stars had found a remarkably brilliant star. It’s likely other astronomers and astrologers saw it too, but only these three – for whatever holy or gainful reason – were willing to set aside everything in their daily lives to invest precious time, energy, and resources to follow it. The star gave them their bearings.

Maybe they did not know each other at the outset of their trip. Maybe they only met along the way before seeing Herod, and only knew of their common quest by talking with one another. Only in talking with our fellow travelers that we find a common quest. If that quest leads us to God, all the better.

The story of the Magi appeals to us for that very reason, because like them, we are constantly in search of our bearings. We try to discern a meaningful direction in life amid chaos, war, and absurdity.

Perhaps the Magi were single minded in their search. Perhaps they had to change their way of thinking as they travelled and unraveled next steps. They certainly had to rethink that after they consulted Herod and his advisors. Herod feared the loss of power in the face of this new-born king. Herod did what any ruthless king would do. He set out on a path of destruction that would cause families to wail because their children were lost. But the life-giving power of God would be greater than the destructive power of Herod.

The star’s faithful presence and the angels warning to go home by another route appeal to us too. Everyone of us is a fellow traveler with the wise men… in search of God, occasionally at a loss, surprised in the end by what we see.

When the Magi came to the house where the child was, Matthew says they fell on their knees and worshipped Him. They believed that this child held the key to the meaning of life. They left gifts that drew attention to His authority, divinity, and humanity. In leaving these gifts, the Magi accepted that God was not what they expected.

The worship of the Magi and our own worship at Eucharist and at other times is not just a fitting conclusion to our journey. It is the only meaningful response to the unexpected god whom we recognize. We are today’s Magi, and the gifts we leave are the precious hopes and experiences of our own lives.

From a human viewpoint, Epiphany celebrates the human search for God. From God’s viewpoint, Epiphany celebrates that God can be found.

These three things, then: the search for meaning, the struggle of conflicting powers and the need for believers to worship together – these are the indispensable ingredients of this feast. Though the feast ends, the journey continues for each of us, alone and together. We will reach the fullness of our dreams. We will get there. I know we will…get there.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

A New Year of Unity and Grace

Dear and Honored Friends,

Happy New Year’s Day tomorrow! May 2024 be sacred to you, rich in friendships with God and one another.

May we bypass the potential for disaster and embrace the possible and life-giving.

May the Holy thrive in us.

The first day of the new year, in the Catholic liturgical calendar, is the feast of the Solemnity of Mary – Mary, who is the Mother of God and our Mother as well. Mary knows the mind of God. She knows how immense, singular and undying God’s love is for each of us and all people.

Once, at Tepeyac, near Mexico City, Mary – who after that became known as Our Lady of Guadalupe –appeared to Juan Diego. She asked him, “Why are you afraid? Am I not here who am your Mother?”

In his homily on the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, December 12, 2015, Pope Francis prayed for all of us who walk the earth; “May we convert” he prayed, “and become a merciful people, and may all Christian communities be oases and sources of mercy, witnesses to a charity that does not permit exclusion.”

A charity that does not permit exclusion. That’s a reach worth making.

In theory, the People of the Book – Christians, Jews, and Muslims – honor each other’s faith as we care for one another and our common home, the earth. In practice, violence, hatred, and distrust lace our attitudes toward one another. We are anything but gracious to each other.

We accept animosity as a way of life.

What if, in this new year, we really did commit ourselves to all-inclusive charity? What if we welcomed to the table of our heart Muslims, Jews, and Christians without exception?

What follows is a prayer to keep, use and share. Promoted by Pax Christi USA/ Fellowship of Reconciliation, it offers us a fresh way to begin this new year as a time of unity and grace.

                    O God, you are the source
                    of life and peace.
                    Praised be your name forever.
                    We know it is you who turn
                    our minds to thoughts of peace
                    Hear our prayer in this time of war.

                    Your power changes hearts.
                    Muslims, Christians, and Jews remember,
                            and profoundly affirm,
                    that they are followers of the one God,
                    children of Abraham, brothers and sisters;
                    enemies who begin to speak to one another;
                    those who were estranged
                    join hands in friendship;
                    nations seek the way of peace together.

                    Strengthen our resolve to give witness
                            to these truths by which we live.

                    Give to us:
                            Understanding that puts an end to strife;
                            Mercy that quenches hatred, and
                            Forgiveness that overcomes vengeance.

                    Empower all people to live in your law of love.

                    Amen.

Blessed and ever-fresh New Year!

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Caves of Christ

Today you will know that the Lord will come,

and in the morning you will see glory.

                                                                    Entrance Antiphon Christmas Vigil Mass

Dear Friends,

The cave was shaped by the elements
over any number of centuries,
by whirling water
and stones rubbing against one another
by temperature change and
by hand-scrapings and footsteps of every size and shape.

Even before the Innkeeper claimed the cave
to shelter his domestic animals,
others had probably sought shelter there from storms
or just because night was quickly falling
and it was dangerous to sleep outdoors.

Caves were treasures in the wilderness.

A grown man could stand erect in this cave.
And the way it opened to the outdoors seemed
to impede cold air from rushing in
to dissipate the warmth of the cave.

A good place to shelter for people and beasts alike.

This well used cave,
hollowed out of the earth
became a hallowed place
late one evening
when a man and his very pregnant wife
were turned away from the inn.
“No room,”
the Innkeeper repeated several times
to the travelers at the door.
“No room. No room. No room.”

But the weariness on her face
and the desperation in his eyes
caused the innkeeper
to think again.

The stable. It would have to do.
Carved out of the earth, it was warm and dry and snug.

The cave waited breathlessly.
Would they want it to be
the first House of God this night?

Within the heart of the earth,
surrounded by creatures large and small,
the Holy One was born.
Joseph and all the animals there
knew about birthing.

Mary brought forth Jesus.

He cried out.
Was it “Hello? I am here.”

Many years he would cry out again.
“It is finished.”
And then he would be laid in a cave again –
a borrowed tomb.

And then there would be more,
believable to all who opened themselves
to that more.

In the arc of His life,
when He was helpless
to do for Himself,
Jesus was cared for.

To find Him,
we need to go to the cave,
and then,
there will be more.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Experiencing Joy Amidst Difficult Times

Dear Friends,

On this Third Sunday of Advent, even though our world seems violently out of control, believers are called to joy because our God continues to come to us. We are invited to stir up the embers of joy in us – joy that recognizes and celebrates God everywhere and in everything.

Among the realities we hold close today are two babies born in the Holy Land about 2000 years ago. Both survived the rigors of being born, John, son of Elizabeth and Zachariah, and Jesus, son of Mary, son of God, beloved by His foster father Joseph. Two babies were born in the Holy Land about 2000 years ago. Both survived.

Recently, with an unholy war raging, 31 babies were born prematurely in Gaza, on the sea edge of the Holy Land. Not all survived. Those that have and will grow to adulthood will be told how it was that they survived and others did not. They will be told the story of their beginnings, and they will wonder at what God has called them to. They will know the joy of God, even as they know human sorrow.

Our biblical ancestors – these wondrous babies, John and Jesus, their parents and families lived in times like ours – hard times in which to live out right relationships, support families and communities and be faithful to the Lord. Even in hard times, they experienced a joy that no one could take from them. Each in his own way, was united with God. From them we learn the joy that recognizes God everywhere and in everything.

Joy grows in us over a lifetime. The person who has learned joy gazes at and walks in the world and sees God’s imprint everywhere.

True joy is not giddy or silly or trite. It is a strong luminous thread of connectedness that runs through our life, uniting us with God. We don’t think our way into joy. And let’s not make it a project or think we can pre-program it. Don’t be afraid of joy in these difficult times, as though being joyful is not appropriate right now.

Be still. Take an inward glance. The experience of joy is within us, waiting to be recognized. Look around. See it blossom and give thanks. Rejoice with the Palestinian babies that survived their premature birth not long ago. Let glimmers of God’s own mercy and human compassion touch them and their homeland. Rejoice as our own lives unfold.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Carrying the Light

Dear Friends,

In the early morning when I pray, I like to have a candle lit. Its dancing light is a sign to me of God who dances with joy because of us.

Here in the north, Advent begins in a month of deep darkness. Only at the very end of Advent, does the daylight begin to increase in tiny fragments. It behooves us to light our candles during Advent, for our personal morning or evening prayer, especially with the unspeakable destructiveness of war and animosity raging in our world.

                Blessed are you
                Who bear the light
                In unbearable times,
                Who testify
                To its endurance
                Amid the unendurable,
                Who bear witness
                To its persistence
                When everything seems
                In shadow
                And grief.                                (Jan Richardson)

John the Baptist, whose vitality we experience in today’s Gospel, was one who carried the light into the wilderness in unbearable times, when people did not know what to make of their lives. They did not recognize God’s presence within them and around them. But John brought them the light that moved them to see, to welcome God.

As his story evolves in the Gospel, John also suffered the ravages of an interior wilderness, but he was faithful to God and to his cousin, Jesus the Word Made Flesh. He died because he would not back away from what he knew to be true.

When we find family life stretched almost beyond recognition, when the integrity of our soul is tried by experiencing or witnessing tragedy, the voice of the Lord speaks to us and through us to others.

Light the candle. See God dancing with joy because of you. Be the light others can see by and be moved.

~Sister Joan Sobala