Jesus spells it out...

Our gospel this morning is mysterious and ominous. The Pharisees are still not getting Jesus and he, in a rare moment of real human frustration, lets them know that they are still in the darkness of unbelief. Twice in this sad exchange, Jesus gives them the biggest clue to his divine nature. He refers to himself using God’s name – the sacred name given to Moses before the burning bush. Jesus says,

“For if you do not believe that I AM, you will die in your sins.”

In a ministry encompassing three years of healing, teaching, story and miracle, this sentence may be the clearest self-revelation and the very reason for the Incarnation. What Jesus says to these hard-hearted Pharisees, he is saying to us.

“For if you do not believe that I AM, you will die in your sins.”

I understand the first half of the sentence, but the second has been troubling me. What does it mean to “die in your sins?” I’m fairly certain that Jesus was not cursing them or predicting eternal damnation. That’s just not how the heart that made the universe operates. Maybe, to die in our sins means, that we have lived without hope – without the reality of God’s saving love. The connection in this one sentence between faith and its power over sin cannot be denied. I think many people die this way. Many people die without having lived in faith. Jesus doesn’t want that for anyone – not even a stubborn, self-righteous Pharisee. To die in our sins means, that we carry the weight of sin throughout our lifetime – that we never enjoy the relief of God’s forgiveness here. It would seem to be the whole point of his coming in flesh and bone.

As we move this week from Mary’s “yes” to the Lord’s Passion, we have an opportunity for profound gratitude. Because we believe that Jesus is the Christ – the great I AM – we will not die in our sins. Rather, we move toward death fully alive to God’s merciful love. No sin, no crime of the heart, no failure to love will keep us from the love of God revealed to us in Christ. That love is already ours for the taking. We need only to accept the gift that comes with faith and be grateful.

Blessings and love to you…
- Sister Vicki

A Positive Spin...

I got this idea last Saturday during our monthly Oblate meeting. [I LOVE our Oblates! I love them as unique people of faith and as the ambassadors of Saint Benedict in the world.] Somewhere in our time together, I wondered how we might respond to the "10 Commandments" if they were interpreted positively. I don't think we are like children who often want to do exactly the thing that has been prohibited, rather, I think adult faith demands a stance of blessing - the acceptance that GOD's wisdom is for our good. If we want to be happy we will observe these commandments. If do not observe them there is considerable misery. It's that simple, really. One path is peace and the other is angst of being out of sorts with GOD. [The gift of Reconciliation returns the heart to the place of original blessing, but if we could embrace the goodness of these ten words from GOD, we might find ourselves in the path of peace more often than not.] So, with that goal in mind, I have taken great liberties with the Word of GOD. I hope reframing the Decalogue as gift and not some list of "thou shalt not's" will be helpful to some.

Blessings and love to you all...
- Sister Vicki

1. I am the LORD your God:
you shall not have
strange Gods before me.
1+ Make GOD first in your life. Nothing else can give you real joy.

2. You shall not take
the name of the LORD your God in vain.
2+ GOD’s name is holy. Use it only when you pray and its power will bring you peace.

3. Remember to keep holy the LORD'S Day.
3+ Choose carefully what you do on Sunday and your family will grow closer to GOD and to each other.

4. Honor your father and your mother.
4+ Take care of your aging parents, as best you can, and you will understand the burden and blessing of unconditional love.

5. You shall not kill.
5+ Choose life always – even when it is hard - and you will know its fullness in your own.

6. You shall not commit adultery.
6+ Stay with your husband or wife and you will know the peace that comes from fidelity.

7. You shall not steal.
7+ Desire for things or ideas that belong to someone else can lead to mutual suffering so be attentive when you feel envious.

8. You shall not bear false witness
against your neighbor.
8+Tell the truth and you will never feel the shame of telling a lie.

9. You shall not covet
your neighbor's wife.
9+ Delight in the desire you have for your spouse and you will not want what is sacred to another relationship.

10. You shall not covet
your neighbor's goods.
10+ Be happy with what you have and you will not long for what belongs to someone else.

For something greater...

The Lectionary continues to be a source of great awe in my spiritual life. I wish I knew them – the biblical scholars who redacted the whole of Sacred Scripture into a three-year cycle of readings [A, B & C]. There is a wisdom in their work – especially in the sacred seasons of Advent and Lent – that touches me deeply. The readings for this morning – an “ordinary” Lenten weekday – are stunning in both their unique power and in their relationship to one another. This morning we are given the juxtaposition of Joseph and Jesus – the Joseph stripped of his coat of many colors and Jesus of Nazareth the anointed of God. Both share the unfortunate status of beloved son. Joseph - born of Jacob’s favorite wife, Rachel – is the child of his old age and the fruit of his deepest love. Jesus, in today’s gospel, is the tragic hero of the parable he is telling – the vineyard owner’s son sent to bring peace and justice. “Surely, they will listen to my son,” the vineyard owner believes. Like Joseph stripped of his colors and thrown into a well of bitter envy, the son is dispatched by the workers - killed for his efforts on the Father's behalf.

How brilliant this connection of old and new! In both narratives envy is allowed to run its darkest course. And in both stories God uses the suffering of the innocent to become a blessing. Joseph is taken to Egypt where – through a series of struggles and divine interventions – he comes to power - power that will save the Hebrews from famine and death. And Jesus – stripped by human hands – lays aside his own glory and power to accept the suffering of death – the crushing isolation of being fully human. And because of his perfect obedience – because of the depth of his love for us and trust in the Father – God uses his sacrifice to bridge the divide of sin. God raises this gentle Jesus from the grave and in doing so raises us from the fear that has ruled the human condition. Death reigns no more.

I am in awe of this God who can make blessing from every suffering embraced and endured in the name of love. When we are misunderstood…when relationships end…when death claims one of our own…when failure trumps hope…when truth is lost in a sea of personal agendas…when justice is withheld by power…when violence is the currency of the nations…when we are stripped of our rainbow-colored coat…or nailed to some tree…then, if we offer that suffering – personal, communal and global – in prayer, the God of Jesus Christ will bring life from death. That is the promise made to Israel, the covenant sealed in the blood of Christ. Where there is real love, there is always sacrifice. Where there is sacrifice, there is always grace. Where there is grace, we find meaning. Where we find meaning, we know Christ's peace. Let us pray this day for all who are making some significant sacrifice for the love of God. It will be for something greater than we can see or imagine.

Blessings and love to you all...
- Sister Vicki

The Fast...

Without music
I feel overwhelmed -
like thirsty grass
yielding
to merciless August heat.
The absence of strings and voices
Reveals some empty place
inside me -
a dark, dank crawl space
where challenging questions
lie in wait.
If I could just return
to the rushing, mystical beauty
of music
I would not have to “face the music”
in my restless soul.

Vicki Ix, OSB
Lent, 2012

In the days before disappointment...

I wish I could remember my first sin – the first conscious awareness that my freedom could be misused and create blocks to the intimacy I shared with GOD. I guess it doesn’t really matter because when I made my first “confession” in second grade, I remember very clearly I had a list! Some kids were nervous about not having enough sins and asked to borrow a few as we waited on line. I had plenty to share! I was a scrupulous little kid – always sorry for something.

I believe there was a time before I disappointed God – a state of wholeness undefiled by guilt like that enjoyed by Adam and Eve before their “fall". As they hid from God in that garden, overwhelmed by shame, I know that the sight of me - utterly devoid of illusion, artifice, and rationalization -cannot be sustained for longer than it takes to do an examination of conscience. To be seen as God sees me would be too overwhelming. I might have to shift that beatific gaze with some diversionary tactics or even suggest that it’s all God’s fault anyway for making me so selfish and stubborn. I might also have to accept that I am loved so deeply that none of my tragic flaws will cause us to really part company. I might just have to embrace the God who is in this with me until we arrive back at that place we started out – that garden where we walked together in the days before disappointment, in the hour called delight.

Blessings and Lenten love,

- Sister Vicki

The gift of sleep...

When I was little I used to wonder why God created day and night. Usually, that question would rise to the surface at this time of year when the days are long, but never quite long enough. Long after supper, my brother and I would still be outside running barefoot in the grass. As the light slowly faded, we’d chase fireflies just becoming visible and hope that my mother wouldn’t look at the clock. It seemed all wrong to go to bed as the light was still fading. Days like that should never end.

As children we resist sleep. When we’re grown up, we wonder why we ever railed against the rest we needed so badly. Sleep becomes a salvation – a resting place where we lay our burdens down for the night. The days are still long now - long with work, worry and anxiety. When evening comes, sometimes it’s all we can do to keep our eyes open until our head hits the pillow. We exhaust ourselves physically, mentally and spiritually.

Some of us want to sleep but can't or our sleep is disturbed. Sleeping "aids" are prescribed more than ever for those whose thoughts feel unrelenting. We are sold the product of the "perfect night's sleep" if we buy the right mattress system. Sleep disorders - diagnosed through a "study" - reveal that an alarming number of adults have been deprived of healthy sleep for years! Many have been functioning at full tilt while inwardly battling a profound and consistent exhaustion. Little or no REM sleep has physiological consequences. Now, thanks to good diagnostic tools and portable technologies, these empty sleepers can know true rest - deep sleep that reconstitutes body and soul.

Still...we long for the sleep of childhood. We long to be so physically tired that thoughts, worries and regrets have no room to settle. We long - somewhere deep inside - for our mother's soft bedtime voice, for her arms to rock us, her lips to gently kiss forehead or face. This love - though physically distant - remains real through grace. Our last prayer at night can summon its power. "You give my heart more joy than all their grain and wine. I sleep secure at night, you keep me in your care (Psalm 4:8-9)." We need to pray for peace, for good rest, for abiding love though the darkness of night.

God knew well the burdens of our humanity long before that first sunset and longed even then to restore our weary hearts. God placed hope into the blueprint of the cosmos with that first morning. And with each morning God’s mercies are new. This God who never “sleeps nor slumbers”, cradles us in loving arms through the night, and wakes us to a new day fresh with the dew of possibility – a day in which to live and love again – another day to praise God’s holy name for the steadfast love that never ceases to renew the face of the earth.

Blessings and love to you,

- Sister Vicki

Saturday Morning Prayer,1970

It was you I heard that morning -
a bird singing early
in the days between spring rain

and summer heat.
I wanted to rise with the sun,
smell the sweetness of the morning,
walk with you

in the dew-soaked grasses.
I wanted to dig in the soil,
scatter seed,
pat the earth with the palm of my hand
and share in the mystery of your life.
But I was a child in nightclothes
kicking off the blanket,
stretching in wonder
at the gift

of a brand new day.

Vicki Ix, OSB