Surrender

“Surrender to God and he will do everything for you.”

Today’s text is an antiphon from the office of readings which caught my spirit very early this morning.  Because of the power outage in Connecticut, we are operating with one generator that allows our refrigerator to work, and one light in the middle of the dining room table.  The light is connected to a power strip which also allows the friars to recharge their cell phones. 

Honestly, we don’t need much more than what we have. We are fine.  No lights or internet access in our rooms or offices. No phones. No big coffee pot going. But we do have a gas stove that allows us to cook.  Again. We have enough, but like everyone else in most of the world, we have become dependent on electricity for so much of what we do, that we walk around a bit frazzled and anxious, scanning the local paper in the morning to see if our neighborhood will soon be back on line.

“Surrender to God and he will do everything for you.”  Really.  Everything?  What can “surrender” mean in this case?  It is a difficult enough word in ordinary times, not something we are inclined to do on a daily basis in a society so committed to individual rights. We have become, I fear, an entitled society.  We pay our taxes and bills and expect perfect service from the government and our utility companies. Sometimes we wonder out loud: Why can’t the power company tell us exactly when our electricity will be turned on again?

Furthermore, I cannot imagine what it must be like for the people answering the phones at the utility companies in the aftermath of a hurricane. No doubt they put up with large amounts of verbal abuse simply because they are the bearers of bad news. Can you hear the stock and slightly disingenuous answer they've learned? “You will have your power as soon as possible. Hospitals and fire departments are receiving priority….”, a sentence or two that says does not answer your question, but which they hope will satisfy a few people.

Sometimes I feel this way when people ask me why their mother is suffering, why their marriage is failing, why they can’t find a job. The answer of course, though obvious, is difficult to offer, more difficult to hear.  “I don’t know, but I can promise you this.  God is with us. God will help us, but we have to surrender and it is never easy.” Surrendering as a spiritual discipline is a powerful challenge that demands we accept life on God’s terms.  Believing that God is always with us, even when we don't feel God's presence, and that God will protect and direct us offers us incalculable results. Peace of mind and heart, freedom from useless anxiety and hope in eternal life.

 

Try today to surrender to God in all things.  If this is a very new exercise for you, ask for the grace to do it today and see what happens.  Tomorrow will take of itself.

You are an obstacle to me

Forgive me for being late with this post.  Hurricanes stop everything in their path and without electricity for the last couple of days there was little I could do. Right now I am  sitting in a McDonald's, using their free WiFi.

"Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."

Peter is one of my favorite gospel figures.  Anxious to help, sure of himself and committed to following the Lord, his impulsiveness often gets the best of him.  In last Sunday’s gospel, he quickly answers Jesus' inquiry: Who do you say that  am?  The Christ, Peter says, the Messiah.  Unfortunately, while Peter's answer is correct, his understanding is lacking.  He wants Jesus to be a kind of military leader who drives the Romans out of Jerusalem and reclaims the Holy City for the chosen people.  More, if Jesus is an earthly king, he probably thinks that his own position as a disciple will afford him enhanced status among his peers.  

In today's gospel, Peter stands up again for the Lord as a defender and protector, but this time the Lord’s response is harsh.  “Get behind me, Satan. You are an obstacle to me.”  Although I have often prayed not to be an obstacle for others, especially to their faith life and journey,  I know that my quick tongue and harsh judgments have often hurt others.

That is why I think it is so very important to develop simple practices to accept our faults and address our  anxieties. Rather than strike out verbally, we need to work for reconciliation and healing.  My parents suggested a way to do this when  they told me never to make important decisions quickly, to sleep on them and if possible to wait a week or more before acting. Later, a 12 step friend told me: Things that are are urgent are rarely important, and things that are important are rarely urgent. Had I listened more closely to my parents and friend, I might have saved myself and others unnecessary hurt.

In the light of Peter’s foolishness in wanting to defend Jesus (and perhaps your own), try developing the practice of counting to five when you are startled or upset before saying anything.  A friar I admire a great deal used this technique to overcame a lifelong habit of reacting angrily whenever he was upset.  He knew that if he could pause even for a few seconds he would catch himself before he said things he would soon regret.  And it worked.  Today you would think of him as the mildest of people, but he knows his own history of angry retorts. You might also want to consider a second practice. Offer a prayer of gratitude each time the practice of counting to five saves you embarrassment and your companions hurt.

There is always something in the gospel that can change our life. Today, try reading the scriptures not for insight but for transformation.  The Lord wants to change our lives, but we have to open ourselves to his power and love.

Forgiveness -- Feast of St Clare

Although the Franciscan lectionary offers different readings for the feast of St Clare, I want to comment on the readings most of you will encounter either at mass or in your personal study.

Today, we remember Joshua and his Jewish sisters and brothers as they enter the promised land.  Once again God stops the flow of water, this time in the Jordan river, so that the community of believers can cross safely not only into a new land, but a new life.  Having wandered for forty years, they are finally "home". The joy they shared must have been overwhelming.

But I wonder how the friends of Moses felt? Were they angry, confused, hurt?  After all, it was Moses who led them out of Egypt, but he would die before entering the promised land.  Somehow it all seems unfair. In Numbers 20, Moses is upset with God. He and his people, having wandered in the desert for forty years,  are thirsty again. God hears Moses' cry and tells him to speak to the rock when he and the people are thirsty, but Moses strikes the rock twice.  Is Moses being punished for striking the rock rather than speaking to it as God told him?  Or is his fault deeper than this? Prophets like Moses are charged to speak and do exactly what God commands. No more and no less.  Moses fails God and his people by acting out of his anger and dismay.  Though Moses' punishment seems harsh, the text can be the occasion for a good question or two.

Do we lash out at one another or speak behind others backs when we are hurt or confused? Or do we pray for the grace to seek God's path for us and a just solution through open and honest conversation?  Can we share our feelings and opinions without blaming others? Are we committed to ask God for clear direction in life and then to act upon that guidance? 
 
Perhaps today we might ask for the grace to let go of some hurt, some resentment we might be carrying against a friend, a family member or even an enemy, especially if it is getting in the way of listening to God. Offering others forgiveness frees them and us.