“A voice calls out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord”

In our Gospel reading from this past Sunday (Mark 1: 1-8) we encounter John the Baptist in the wilderness. This is where it begins, we are told. The wilderness. A space set apart from the hustle and bustle. Just a few lines later in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus travels from Nazareth to be baptized by this wild prophet who wears camel’s hair and eats locusts and wild honey.

Before he can begin his ministry of loving the world, Jesus too goes to the wilderness. And during his time in this space set apart Jesus sorts out what his ministry will be. It is in the wilderness that Jesus comes to understand what matters most, what God is calling him to and who he is.

While listening to the readings this past weekend, I couldn’t help but be reminded words from Trappist Monk and Catholic writer Thomas Merton:

“…there is a pervasive form of contemporary violence… activism and overwork. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence. More than that, it is cooperation in violence. The frenzy of the activist neutralizes [their] work for peace. It destroys [their] own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of [their] own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.”*

Merton’s words remind me that allowing myself the time to retreat from the hubbub of the world and instead follow the voice of God into the wilderness is so important. I know that without making this space, it is so easy to get caught up in the all-consuming frenzy and violence of overwork.

It is in this space set apart where we can more fully connect with God, with ourselves and with one another. In the wilderness we listen to the voice of the still speaking God. We are then able to to reenter the world recharged, reconnected and reinvigorated in mind, body and spirit to live faithfully. We are better able to stay awake to Christ’s presence in our lives and to lend our own voices to the work of love and justice that Christ calls us to.

Post by Dana Capasso Stivers

 

*Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, Page. 81

*Photo is Dana’s

In Chaos There is Renewal

I had four weeks to prepare and yet there I was, walking downtown at the last minute on Christmas Eve day to get one last gift for my wife. A charm for her charm bracelet.

It had rained the night before. The rain mixed with the snow on the ground and created puddles of slush that I jumped over successfully until I landed in the one I wasn’t able navigate around. I had four weeks to prepare and there I was, with wet feet and soggy socks, heading downtown to buy that one last gift for my wife.

I reached the town green and for some reason it was crowded. The crowd bustled and shuffled along. Big steps then littles ones. Shoulders ran into shoulders. People buzzed along, looking more at the tasks they needed to complete than what was in front of them. In order to avoid one person I sidestepped and ended up bumping into another. I had four weeks to prepare and yet there I was, walking downtown with wet shoes and a sore shoulder saying sorry to the man I bumped into. He grumbled some guttural mumble. It seemed the joy of the Advent season on that day would be a gift left unopened until Christmas morning.

I crossed the green and made my way to the jewelry shop to buy that last minute bauble for my wife and then before I reached the door of the store, I saw them. A man and his daughter glided through the crowds, unimpeded by those around them. They walked smoothly and with grace towards a restaurant for what could have been a late lunch or appetizers before dinner. They smiled and spoke to each other. Her right arm ringed around his left arm bent at the elbow. They were alone in the world together sharing a story, perhaps a memory of some Christmas past. As I got closer to the store that sold that one last gift that I was to buy my wife, they passed me by. And quickly then, they vanished into that restaurant.

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Two people alone together unbothered by the hubbub around them. Two people in a storm of last minute madness, were perfectly calm as they shared their story and their love. And as they passed me by and as I continued on my way with my damp shoes and sore shoulder, I reflected on that instant of calm and entered into the shop to buy my wife that last minute gift, unhurried.

As this season progresses, we must remember to seek out the calm that resides within the chaos and the crowds. The calm reminds us we are loved. The calm reminds us to look away from the clutter and look instead toward God. In the calm we can make space for the holy. Amidst the rush of the season, we can pause to remember our Lord. Amidst the mayhem, we can find renewal.

Post by Matt Handi