The Welcoming Core of Christianity

 

Dear Friends,

                Like many of you, I have been in and out of many hotels, inns and conference centers over the years. In every place I’ve stayed, the staff made a point of seeing to my comfort. I know this because they have told me so. Hospitality is a commodity that can be bought. We simply don’t go back to a city, hotel or restaurant that has not been hospitable. When we talk about our trips or experiences away, we often tell stories of hospitality offered to us.

                But hospitality is more than an industry or an impulsive kindness to strangers – although it is certainly that.

                Abraham and his wife Sara in today’s first reading, practiced hospitality toward whatever  strangers passed by their tent. In this instance, the strangers were messengers from God who left them with the remarkable news that Sara would bear a son, Sara was well beyond childbearing years, but it was true – and a blessing for all generations to come.

Today’s Gospel is also a story of hospitality. Martha offered Jesus traditional hospitality at the table. Mary offered hospitality to Christ’s message. Most of the interpretations you and I grew up with pitted Martha against Mary. Who did the more important thing? This divisive reading of the story tells the reader there are winners and losers with Jesus.

But Jesus does not chide Martha for her activity but for her anxiety. Anxious people cannot be open and Jesus knows this. In naming Martha’s anxiety, Jesus releases her from it. In the only other story where Martha figures strongly, it is she not Mary who goes out to meet Jesus on the road near Lazarus’ tomb. It is she – Martha – who names Jesus for who he is – the Messiah, the Son of God. Martha has embraced a new discipleship: a new way of thinking and being. We learn from Martha in this incident that hospitality means that not only is the door open. But the heart is open and the mind is open.

The late Dutch psychologist/theologian Henri Nouwen says:” Hospitality is the core of the Christian life.”

Think about the ways  neighboring countries to the north and west welcome Ukrainian refugees from the war with Russia. Hospices welcome the dying so that they may live out their days in a blessed place. Think of children adopted into households where love awaits them.

It’s true that prudence holds up a caution sign when the stranger or even a family member at the door masks the demonic. But prudence does not destroy the need to extend hospitality widely.

Once we become clear that hospitality – openness to the other – in the name of God – is core to our lives, then we can also recognize that we are guests in God’s world, bound to one another by the mystery of God’s own hospitality to us.

May the sharing of hospitality make a profound mark in our lives this summer.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Good Samaritan

 

Dear Friends,

                The story of Good Samaritan in today’s Gospel cannot be neatly covered up by Jesus’ simple but true summary statement: Love your neighbor. You and I like to think that the priest and the levite should have known better. Of course, they should have come to the aid of the man in the ditch.

                But put these passersby in the context of their own life. If either of them had stopped, they would have broken the law. Each of them was bound by temple discipline not to incur ritual impurity. To touch the bloody body of the man in the ditch would have mad them ritually impure and would have prevented them from carrying out their own official religious functions.

                On the other hand, the Samaritan found himself in a bind. In making that split-second decision to aid the battered Jewish traveler, the third man risked quite a bit. Cultural norms – profoundly gripping though unwritten – required that Samaritans had nothing to do with Jews. This Samaritan would, as a result of his action, incur the wrath of his Samaritan relatives and friends or open himself to ridicule, scorn or maybe even shunning.

                These are two separate cultures that created mindsets which hindered mercy. One man followed his intuition, his heart. The other two did not.

                What do we have to build into our life for us to be like the Good Samaritan and follow our God-sent intuition? For one thing, we need to develop a deep-seated belief that God accompanies us in the daily events of life where opportunities for kindness arise? At the same time, we need to grow in consciousness of what’s happening around us? Such awareness takes work.

Most of the time, the person who needs our help is not lying in a ditch. Our co-worker, neighbor, a stranger  or casual acquaintance could need to talk about an illness, a job difficulty, a relationship that has become complicated.

                Finally, in the Samaritan we find the readiness to act – to take a chance, even though he might be misunderstood or his efforts not appreciated, The priest and the levite were aware of the wounded man . That’s why they walked around him. It was the readiness to act that was missing.

                Each of us finds ourself in the Good Samaritan story. We may help or we may be the person in the ditch who finds ourselves the recipient of a great kindness given by one who did not walk away but who could have.

                Whoever we are in this story, God is the companion of our experience.

                It’s clear that our times are fraught with people needing help. Will we have the readiness to give or receive even though it may be costly or poorly regarded? 

                Big-heartedness isn’t easy, but it is God’s call to us.

~Sister Joan Sobala

Contributing to the Movements of Non-Violence

Dear Friends,

Nowhere in the Gospel does Jesus ever advocate violence. In the Garden of Gethsemane, where Peter cuts off the ear of Malchus, Jesus says, “no more” and heals Malchus.

Jesus is a non-violent teacher of non-violence. In the Sermon on the Mount, for example, Jesus offers two imaginative non-violent responses to violence.

“When someone strikes you on one cheek,” He says, “turn the other cheek.” The theologian Walter Wink offers insight into the meaning of that call. When people in the military would strike their inferiors, it would be with a backhanded slap to the left cheek. To turn the other cheek was, in effect, to say to the violent person: if you hit me on my right cheek, it means you acknowledge I am your equal. This would give the violent person pause.

The second admonition of Jesus was equally clever. “When someone asks you to go a mile with them, go two.” Again, from Walter Wink we learn that the someone in that admonition was actually a Roman soldier. By Roman law, the soldier could press a civilian to carry his ninety pounds of gear for one mile, but not more. For the civilian to carry it more than a mile might sound generous. In fact, the soldier could be found disobedient to the law. The civilian undermined the military in a non-violent way.

A unique characteristic of the 20^th Century was the international rise of non-violence to solve problems. Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr., the Mennonites and Quakers were prime proponents of non-violence. Their protegees included the American Trappist monk Thomas Merton, who told us, “The way to silence error is by truth and not by violence.”

This decade of the 21^st century has found Americans descending deeper into violence on our streets, with guns, killing multiple people who are strangers for ideological reasons or out of rage. Abortion, domestic abuse, senseless aggression all arise from and lead to violence.

Are we helpless? Not really, but we do have to exert and discipline ourselves for action.

Training in non-violent ways of problem – solving is necessary at a personal level. So too are learning empathetic listening and assertive, non-judgmental, non-destructive speech. These require a discipline, which we might need to do in tandem with others. If you have a computer, go to several sites to see where groups of people are learning and sharing the practice of non-violence. Braver Angels is a citizens organization uniting red and blue Americans in a working alliance to depolarize America. (The term Braver Angels comes from Abraham Lincoln’s inaugural speech in 1861.) Go to the Center for Non-Violence Communication or Global Citizens. On the Global Citizens website, you can read how 100,000 Estonians in 1988 gathered for five nights of group singing to protest Soviet rule. It worked.

As Americans, we can be creators of and joiners in movements of non-violence. The time to do this work is now. Let the peace of Christ which binds us together be the source of our strength as we learn to live in love and peace with one another.

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Pain of Healing

Dear Friends,

Our bodies are a gift of God, full of remarkable abilities. We see, hear, run, dance, think, sing, find ourselves surprised. We bleed through a variety of causes. All these functions and many more are contained in our one remarkable body, in companionship with other bodies multiplied in our world.

We don’t know life apart from our bodies which grow to adulthood, robust and capable, until they begin to diminish as we move deeper into elderhood and old age. We either treasure our bodies, such as they are, or we are less than pleased with how they look and feel.

Body-li-ness is inescapable.

In Genesis, God created our earliest ancestors with bodies. One remarkable thing about Jesus and Mary, His mother, is that both are within their bodies in heaven, a prelude and a hope for our future when the end-times come.

It is worthwhile beyond imagining to keep our bodies as safe, free of illness and whole as we can. But we know this doesn’t happen. Thank God for our medical communities with all their competencies made stronger through research and development of resources and methodologies.  

On May 2, I had left knee replacement – a long time in coming. Arthritis had done its worst, and for quite some time before surgery, I had experienced the pain of deterioration. I walked strangely, felt tired, and found the daily events of life challenging. Since the day of surgery, I have found myself experiencing the pain of healing, and now, seven weeks out, even that is gradually fading away.

But the reason I am telling you this is because there can be faith lessons in an event like surgery and the process of healing. Here are a few. You may have others to add to the list.

Healing sometimes requires the excision of a faulty part by another person working in a team of people. Five hours after surgery, two staff members escorted me down the hall as I walked tentatively, somewhat untrusting of my new knee. More “on my feet” time came often after that. Physical therapists worked with me several times a week on stretching and balance, and in between times, I was told to increase my “numbers” for each exercise. That took work. Then God asked me, “Can these bones come to life?” “Lord God,” I answered, “you alone know that” (Ezekiel 37.3). I was not alone in the night with the pain of healing, and I was not alone in the day.

Since my surgery, I have met a, continuing to grow, number of people who have had joint replacements. They walk straighter, stand taller, move with ease. They give me courage to walk the talk. I have found myself accepting the open door strangers have offered as they taught me well.

In all of this the Lord has been present. “I will put my spirit in you that you may live,” says the Lord (Ezekiel 37.14).

So, if you are pondering whether to trade in the pain of disintegration for the pain of healing, take heart. The future may find you dancing the dance of the Holy Spirit again.

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Gift of Blood

Dear Friends, 

Shortly after the human carnage in Uvalde, TX, national news outlets reported a surge in blood donors. Fifteen hundred in Texas alone. In some places, people had to be turned away because they could not be accommodated. When tragedy strikes, people give blood, which they associate with the gift of life. We may have not thought through the connection between tragedy and the gift of blood, but there it is. The recipients become what they receive.

Blood sustains the flow of life.

The Blood of Christ sustains the flow of life in the church and in the world.

A few weeks ago, a nurse practitioner from my insurance carrier came to do a home visit. After a series of routine tests, she wondered if I would allow her to take a test which measured whether there were differences in the blood flow in each of my arms and legs. I was curious, to say the least. Much to my delight, the graphs were identical for each appendage. The blood flowed consistently throughout my body. 

Does the Blood of Christ flow consistently throughout the church and the world? No. We know it doesn’t, because in some instances Christ is ignored, unwanted, misunderstood, rejected when understood. The whole church and the whole world are inconsistent hosts for Christ who gives us His blood to sustain us and His Body to nourish us.

How do we come to value and cooperate with the truth of Christ’s Body and Blood as lifegiving for us? Certainly, and as often as possible, by coming to the Table of the Lord. But there’s more. As we plunge into our lives, day after day, we can work politically, economically, and socially to stanch the loss of lifeblood in the many clear and hidden ways that happens. We can work locally, nationally, and globally to enhance the flow of blood to all those people and places where the need is greatest. In this way, we become Christ for others. We bring Christ to others.

The Body and Blood of Christ are always given together and received together. Wherever people move in the world, Christ is there, offering His very self that we might live. We give Him to others when we act generously, speak lovingly, look upon others with love, treat them with reverence. 

Today, may we accept the call to receive Christ, become Christ, and give Him to others without holding back. Christ says to us: “You share my life and my love when you do these things in memory of me.”

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Many Guises of God

Dear Friends,

On a day like today – Trinity Sunday – when we celebrate the Life of Our God, think of stories you have heard or experiences you have had in which the touch of God has become evident. I can give you an example of such a story.

A few years ago, 4-year-old Katie was disconsolate because her dog Scottie had died. One afternoon, as Katie’s mother, Mary, was getting supper, she thought she heard Katie talking with someone upstairs. Mary found Katie on the phone, earnestly telling someone about Scottie. When Katie became aware of Mary, Katie whispered: “I’m talking with God to make sure Scottie is in heaven and that God knows Scottie is there.”

Mary took the phone from Katie, fully expecting no one to be there. On the other end was an elderly woman’s voice. For a few moments, Mary and the woman talked. Mary thanked her for her compassion toward Katie.

When the phone bill came a few weeks later, Mary found that Katie had called a remote part of Nebraska. On impulse, Mary punched in the numbers again. This time, a young voice answered – a man who told Mary that the woman whom Katie called was his mother. She had lived alone and was quite ill at the time of Katie’s call. One of her great sustaining moments in those last months had been their conversation, and she had since died.

The question is: who was God in this situation? Was God the woman who consoled Katie? Was Katie the embodiment of God for the fragile woman? Both, I think. Each of these people needed tangible contact with God. Neither was disappointed.

God, who is creator, redeemer, sanctifier, Mother-Father, Word Made Flesh, Spirit On Fire – God who is the fullness of relationship – is our appreciator, rescuer, our confidant in moments of crisis, our assurance that, over the horizon of death, we will survive. God is the surprise who comes to us in may guises.

Today’s feast reminds us that our stories are interwoven with the very life of God. Our relationships mirror God’s very life.

At times like this, when we see relationships between individuals, groups and nations strained and broken, it’s good to remind ourselves that there is one who is the fullness of relationship. Just as Katie lost her dog and the Nebraska woman died, the people of Ukraine will suffer great losses. Like Katie and the senior woman, the suffering people of Ukraine, are gifted with the presence of God. God comes to them in every act of kindness, every gesture of healing or support. God is on the other end of the phone, the driver of the bus, the kind gravedigger who gently buries those killed in the war.

So too with the people of Buffalo and Uvalde. Those who died by violence in these last weeks were not alone in their dying. God shielded them, held them close and now holds close the grieving families.

Trinity Sunday makes us pause over and look lovingly on God and hold God close. 

~Sister Joan Sobala

The Imprint of the Holy Spirit

Dear Friends,

Father Joe Brennan (1929-2008), Hebrew scholar, educator, priest and friend to many in the Jewish Community and the Diocese of Rochester, had a way of recognizing the movement of the Holy Spirit in places and stories where others would miss it. He was able to see the imprint of the Holy Spirit on our unfinished parts.

Once, in a homily at St. Mary’s Church, Joe told the story of a famous tunnel built in the time of King Hezekiah (721BC) to bring water into Jerusalem from the pool of Siloam. The inscription found in the entrance of the tunnel describes how the workmen started from opposite ends and dug toward each other until at last they could hear one another’s voices through the rock. Their way was arduous and as they dug, they almost missed each other more than once. They had to keep talking to each other through the walls that separated them in order to achieve their goal. In the end, they did break through to each other. And the water began to flow.

Father Brennan went on: “Let us pray that however impenetrable the barriers may seem that separate us, however many detours and zigzags we may find ourselves making, that we will not abandon the effort to reach out to each other. May we listen to each other through the separating wall and call out to each other words of encouragement and hope.”

I can’t think of a finer Pentecost story. What the Holy Spirit prompts us to do is to turn our contemporary clashes and conflicts into healing, revelatory encounters through whatever walls separate us from one another. We are called to put aside our own adamant convictions and inclinations and embrace the mission that the Spirit bestowed on Pentecost to all the disciples of Christ – to open themselves to God and one another in love.

If the world has ever needed the Pentecost presence of the Holy Spirit, it is now. As Mary Oliver put it, “It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in a broken world.”

Today, let us conspire (breathe together), inspire others, and sometime perspire with sheer effort, that the works of the Spirit of Fire transpire to humanize the world we live in.

With confidence on this Pentecost Sunday, we pray:
        Spirit of truth,
        Whom the world can never grasp,
        Touch our hearts with the shock of your coming, and your disturbing peace
        Fire us up with longing to speak your uncontainable word.
        We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

~Sister Joan Sobala