The Gift I Received

During teaching sessions of Living From The Heart, the participants and facilitators sat in a circle. In the centre was a low table adorned with a cross and a candle, and around it were a number of icons, two pictured here. This familiar, sacred space held many memories for us.

In our final closing, I invited each person to share a blessing, gratitude or gift they received during our time together. Many shed tears as they talked or listened; the affection we had for each other was palpable.

When I was certain everyone had had a turn, I began to speak. As I did, I felt a gentle hand on my arm. Deb, the co-facilitator sitting beside me, realized one of the participants had also begun to talk. That touch was all I needed to stop, look and listen.

Of course I felt bad for messing up. I’m quite sensitive about not leaving anyone out. But as I look back on that incident, it isn’t my remorse that stands out like it has in the past; it’s Deb’s gentle, loving gesture.

Whenever I’m in community for an extended period of time, I’m hyper-aware of my faults. I notice how often I draw attention to myself or cut someone off in conversation. All my shortcomings stack up until I’m convinced that’s all anyone sees. But each day, in one interaction after another, I heard that what I feared wasn’t true. People weren’t blind to my faults, but they weren’t blinded by them either. They could see me, and they liked what they saw.

This was how God loved me: with embodied kindness and compassion, without disapproval. This was the gift I received from Living From The Heart.

God would seem to be too occupied in being unable to take Her eyes off of us to spend any time raising an eyebrow in disapproval. Gregory J. Boyle, Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

Finland is engaging in some love mischief at school. Here is a clip from Where to Invade Next, a documentary by Michael Moore that made me wish I were growing up in Finland today.

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
Our Lady of Vladimir (12th century), the holy protectress of Russia, now in the Tretyakov Gallery public domain by Wikipedia Commons.
Icon of the Holy Trinity by Andrei Rublev (1360-1430) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Questioned by a Strawflower

JpegThis week I’ve been away at Living From The Heart. Here is a post I wrote two years ago when I was co-facilitating this course for the first time.

Five tight buds, glossy purple lollipops, greeted me as I passed them on my way to morning prayers. Many flowers that I recognized were blooming at Twin Creeks Lodge–iris, geraniums, petunias, pansies, and daisies–but I had never seen buds like these before. By mid-morning, one had opened up to the sun. “It’s a straw flower,” someone told me.

Next morning there were five buds again. Had I been seeing things? Where was the flower? Before noon the blossom reappeared: it closed at night and opened in the day!

Every time I passed the straw flowers during Living from the Heart, I looked to see what they were doing. They, in turn, looked at me and asked, “Are you open or closed?”

In the week-long intensive I co-facilitate with Deb Arndt and Jeff Imbach, we introduced ancient prayer practices and explored contemplative living. We had the privilege of watching the participants open to God and to one another. Our job was to help them recognize the Real Teacher in their lives.

It sounds easier than it is. At times, I was as tight as a bud, anxious that I might say or do something that would inhibit God’s work. The strawflower invited me to relax and open myself to the light. So did morning and evening prayers, the silent times of reflection, and the gathering of this little community as we ate, shared and laughed together. Even the rhythm of my breath–full, then empty, then full again–encouraged me to trust that God was recreating us.

By the end of our time together, spring had ended and summer arrived. The strawflower no longer needed to retreat at night. I long for the day when I will remain open to God and bask in Love’s warmth. But for now, I sense, it’s enough to listen to the flowers.

bracteantha_magenta_500px

“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me
and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

— Matthew 11:29-30 (MSG)

Love Mischief for the World

I want to honour the participants of SoulStream’s Living From The Heart course. It’s not easy to live from the core of who we are. Do we even know who we are? And can we trust that God is there, actively loving and leading us? As poet Anne Morrow Lindbergh writes, “It is a difficult lesson to learn today, to leave one’s friends and family and deliberately practise the art of solitude for an hour or a day or a week. . .” But what they’ve gained from their time away has led them into much love mischief for the world.

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits:
“Strawflower buds at Twin Creeks” by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission.
“Bracteantha Magenta” by Fleming’s Nurseries. Used with permission.
SoulStream logo used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-17.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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Here Be Tigers

People in authority can make me nervous. I’m always afraid they’ll turn into a tiger, pin me in a corner, and pounce on me for doing something wrong. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. For the most part, the leaders I work with are kind, humble, and vulnerable and would never pounce on me. I’ve also had uncomfortable conversations with superiors that have ended well: I not only survived these dialogues, but I was the better for it. And yet–

I’m still nervous. I want to blame it on the other person and how they don’t handle conflict very well–and that may be true. But I have to own my own stuff: what goes on in me when I hear a certain tone of voice and feel talked down to. This has nothing to do with them.

“So what does go on in you?” my director asked.

“I feel like I’m five years old,” I said and began to weep. “I shut down and don’t hear a word they’re saying. And then they have to tell me again.”

I wept through the whole hour of spiritual direction. By the time it was over, I had a wet mound of tissue on my lap. I grieved that I couldn’t avoid people who trigger this reaction. I bemoaned whatever was done to me in the past that traumatized me. I wept with joy that Jesus would never turn on me; he always makes me feel safe.

“I know I don’t need to be afraid of anyone, but I wish Jesus would convince the little girl in me,” I said.

I listened in the silence for Jesus’ response and realized that he never stops working for my good. He helped me notice what was going on and bring it into the light.

I felt spent by the end of the session, but I also felt comforted. I knew I was not responsible for the trauma I carry in my body or how long it takes to be healed. It will be triggered again, and I will feel anxious and want to shut down. But I could see now that I have more freedom to stay present and more strength to speak up for myself when I need to.

I also knew that God was not going to get rid of the tigers that trigger my shame.

“So how do you want to be with them?” my director asked at the end of our time together.

“How do I want to be with them?” I asked, feeling cheeky. “Wearing a full suit of armour! But, how does Jesus want me to? With an openness and a willingness to feel whatever I feel and trust that God is with me.”

I Can Dance with the Tiger
–Esther Hizsa, 1989

I can dance with the tiger on my journey;
I can read his eyes; I know his steps.
I know every trick he uses to hunt,
How he looms and stalks and threatens and growls.

I can let his roar enter my bones,
Pass me through and leave me whole.
I can smell his breath and taste its steam
And stand within my fear.

Chorus:
I can dance, I can dance, I can dance with a tiger
I can move, I can breathe, I can twirl all around
All the fear in the world cannot silence Your melody
Oh my Lord, in your love, I can dance.

So we meet face to face so close I can reach out
And feel his fur and touch his wound
And with fear lying dead and trampled down
I behold his majesty and might. (Chorus)

Then he leaps high over me on his way
And I turn round to watch him go
But he doesn’t look back to see me wave
or hear me say goodbye. (Chorus)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

 

Thank you to everyone in British Columbia that got out to vote on Tuesday. Now let’s pray that our leaders engage in some love mischief for our province that includes affordable housing for all–especially my friends in the Wednesday Lunch Club.

 

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References
Tiger at top of post and in banner by Mathias Appel. Public domain.
“I Can Dance with the Tiger” by Esther Hizsa © 1989
Tiger (resting)  by Angelo Antonelli. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Childhood, Reflections, Songs, Spiritual Direction, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Aching for More

It’s Tuesday and I haven’t written Friday’s blog post yet. I’ve finished praying and have nothing scheduled for the rest of the morning; it’s an ideal setting to write.

Often the story has already come together, and I just need a chunk of time to get it down, but today I have nothing. I know from experience that I can’t make a story happen; it has to come to me like a spiritual awakening.

Last night I listened to James Finley talk about awakening to God. Finley, who wrote Merton’s Palace to Nowhere, said, “Thomas Merton, as a young man, was spiritually awakened to the presence of God in life itself.” Merton was awakened to the reality that he was in God and God had all he needed.

“For in him we live and move and have our being,” Finley quoted, and I ached to live more fully aware of God.

Once we’ve had a moment of spiritual awakening, Finley says,

We begin to ask ourselves: “Why do I spend so much of my life trapped like this, on the outer circumference of the inner richness of my own life? Why do I spend so much time unaware of that which alone can fulfill my heart?” This aching or longing is our teacher.

My throat throbs. I long for the inner richness of God, but I’m trapped by the inability to waken myself to it. How do I get free?

Here’s Finley’s response. We can “assume an inner stance that offers the least resistance to being overtaken by the oneness we cannot make happen.”

So I wait in this spacious morning with the One who holds all my stories.

In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice;
    in the morning I lay my requests before you
    and wait expectantly.
–Psalm 5:3 (NIV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

Thomas Merton (1915-1968) was a writer and Trappist monk at Our Lady of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. His writings include The Seven Storey Mountain and New Seeds of Contemplation. Merton is the author of more than seventy books that include poetry, personal journals, collections of letters, social criticism, and writings on peace, justice, and ecumenism. I love this quote from Essential Writings, “Life is this simple: we are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and the divine is shining through it all the time. This is not just a nice story or a fable, it is true.”

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Blank page, new day” by Rick Stilwell. Used with permission
James Finley quotes taken from “Interview with James Finley” and Stories of Thomas Merton.
Acts 17:28
“Eurasian blue tit” by Benjamin Balázs. Public domain.
Photo of Thomas Merton by cistercaminante. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Christ Behind Me and Before Me

Recently I received a new awareness that was liberating. Like a pilgrim summiting a mountain pass, I beheld a fresh landscape. Rolling green hills with clusters of trees and fields of wildflowers sprawled out before me.

I savoured this new way of being for ten full seconds before regret caught up to me. I looked back at the road I’d travelled and thought how much better it would have been if I’d only woken up sooner. Blame was on the heels of regret.

Now, instead of strolling leisurely into green pastures, I was weighed down with the disappointment that I had let locusts ravage my life.

Picture us, this motley band of pilgrims: Regret, Blame, Disappointment and me all pressing forward preoccupied–hardly feeling the soft grass, barely noticing the still waters–while Wonder trails behind.

We didn’t travel long before we came upon a stranger sitting on a rock. We invited him to join us. The nearest refugio would be hours away, and he seemed interested, so I told him about my new discovery and the mixed feelings that accompanied it.

The stranger listened intently. Then beginning with the prophets, he explained what the scripture said concerning this. “Isaiah says,

‘From now on I will tell you of new things,
    of hidden things unknown to you.
They are created now, and not long ago;
    you have not heard of them before today.
So you cannot say,
    “Yes, I knew of them.”‘”

Then he added, “Didn’t you say this new awareness was something given to you? How can you blame yourself for not having what had not yet been given?”

He went on to quote the prophet Joel. “And didn’t God say, ‘I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten’? Nothing behind you has been wasted. God will redeem every bit of it.”

Wonder slipped in close and put her arm around me. My eyes were opened: I knew this man.

“Then you’re not disappointed in me, that I didn’t get here sooner?” I asked the Christ.

He laughed and shook his head.

I stood there for ten full seconds before Wonder found words for the lightness I felt: I can enjoy the person I’m becoming and still be kind to the person I was.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
–St.Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

Citizen Advocacy Ottawa’s Fetal Alcohol Resource Program held their First Annual Invisible Disabilities Symposium in March 2017. My friend Tanya Eichler (left), along with other Symposium Committee members from in and around Ottawa, joined together to help educate, connect and encourage individuals with invisible disabilities and those who support them and the unique challenges they experience.  Their keynote speaker was, Kim Barthel, a leading expert in sensory processing, trauma, attachment and neuroscience. See that smile? That’s how Tanya looked when she told me all about it. The event was a huge success.

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References
“Green Valley” by Pisut Konepun. Used with permission.
Isaiah 48:6,7; Joel 2:25; Psalm 23; Luke 24:13-35.
“Resting by Visitor’s Center” by Bill Ward. Used with permission.
Banner photo: 
Vulcan Stream” by Reza. Used with permission.
Photo of Tanya Eichler used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Connected

I tried to lie back and relax in the underground saltwater pool but whenever I did, I began to drift toward people I didn’t know. I was afraid I’d bump against them and disturb their solace.

The Nordik spa in Gatineau, Quebec has pools, saunas, steam rooms, teepees with fire pits and hammocks with thick, cozy sleeping bags. The luxurious spa is separated into two areas. In one you’re asked to whisper; in the other–where the saltwater pool is–silence is requested.

I didn’t say a word, but when my niece heard me thrashing about, she came and stood beside me. She held onto me until I lie still, then floated me over to my sister. She put my hand in my sister’s, and there I rested peacefully in the warm water.

Anchored and released from conversation, my body let go of every care. My breath began to pray, reaching out to another “sister” thousands of miles away who was in anguish. I inhaled her sorrow and exhaled peace. Christ, at the core of my being received her pain; Christ connecting us all gave her comfort.

When I returned home, I met with the sister I’d prayed for. She told me that during one of her prayers, Jesus showed her what it meant to abide in him.

“He took me to an underground tank,” she said. “In the water, all the parts of myself that had been spinning out and away came to repose. The turmoil and pain settled, and I felt calmed around a still, central point that quieted me into optimism and light. Then and only then could I sense Christ’s presence gently pulling me along.”

I listened, fascinated by the similarities between her prayer and mine. We were indeed connected.

Abide in me as I abide in you.–John 15:4 (NRSV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

My sister, Sylvia, and niece, Pascale (with me above) surprised me with a trip to the Nordik Spa in Gatineau, Quebec. What a great gift after spending the day travelling. Sylvia and her husband Claude’s love mischief didn’t stop there. I had a cappuccino every morning, great meals (including linguine carbonara), and long walks. We even fit in two games of Scrabble. How good is that?

What love mischief are you and God doing to care for the earth?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References
“Candles” by Pixabay. Used with permission.
“Two Hands” by SETShots. Used with permission.
Photo of my niece and me at the Nordik by Sylvia Frehner. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Awake

 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” -Matthew 28:9

Suddenly you meet us–on our way from the empty tomb, in the garden, on the road to Emmaus, in a locked room, by the sea, and in the dawn of our darkest night. Your gentle voice, your delicate touch tears through the veil of our grief with sweet encounter.

How we hoped beyond reason for your lifeless body to awaken and tell us, you were only sleeping. And now you have awakened and each good and glorious breath swells our hearts with love.

Living Flame of Love

O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest centre! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! if it be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!

O sweet cautery,
O delightful wound!
O gentle hand! O delicate touch
that tastes of eternal life
and pays every debt!
In killing you changed death to life.

O lamps of fire!
in whose splendours
the deep caverns of feeling,
once obscure and blind,
now give forth, so rarely, so exquisitely,
both warmth and light to their Beloved.

How gently and lovingly
you wake in my heart,
where in secret you dwell alone;
and in your sweet breathing,
filled with good and glory,
how tenderly you swell my heart with love.

— St. John of the Cross

 
Credits and references:
“Transcendence” by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“Living Flame of Love” is in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Banner “The Glory of Dawn” by Chris Ballard. Used with permission.
Text originally published April 4, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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Good and Glory

Jesus-down-from-Cross-lowf

It is finished. Jesus has died. His body is lowered down from the cross and taken to the tomb.

On Easter Saturday we hold vigil with everyone who is grieving the loss of Christ’s presence. Those bright days of miracles and laughter, of full bellies and awakened hearts are gone. Now, there is only darkness.

Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.

We think: if we had just prayed right, lived right, believed hard enough, we could have raised Jesus from the dead and felt his presence once more. But this dark night dispels that illusion.

Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.

Before he died, Jesus told his friends he would be back. Remember what John said:

The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.

Remember when Jesus said that if our children asked us for a fish, we wouldn’t give them a snake. Or if they asked for an egg, we wouldn’t give them a scorpion. He knew we would never do that and neither would his Father. God only gives good gifts. So this dark night must be a good gift, a glorious gift.

O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!

On this holy night, let us light a candle in the deep caverns of our feelings and welcome the darkness that is filled with good and glory.

candle shawn carpenter

O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.
“Dark Night of the Soul,” St. John of the Cross

Credits and references:
Jesus down from the cross by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Gone is the Light by Gord Johnson on Steve Bell’s album Devotion.
John 1:5, John 14:28, Luke 11:11-13.
The phrases “deep caverns of feeling” and “filled with good and glory” from “Living Flame of Love,” This poem andDark Night of the Soul  are in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Candle by Shawn Carpenter. Used with permission.
Originally published April 3, 2015.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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O Sacred Friend Now Wounded

Crucifixion 2 Michael O Brien

Now you are lifted up and alone, O Sacred Friend. You are every person who has ever been condemned, battered, betrayed, or abandoned. You bear all our suffering and every consequence for the suffering we caused.

“Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.”

Forgive us, you say. Me too, you mean. Even now you see the spark of the kingdom in my intentions without justifying the outcome.

You know full well what I have done, yet when I reach my hand across time and space to touch your face, you do not flinch. I caress your hair, your cheek, your beard as you slip into death. I lay my open palm over your heart.

And all that is you flows into me, into us, into every living thing on earth.

Jesus-down-from-Cross cropped-lowf

What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
t
hy pity without end?
— “O Sacred Head Now Wounded”

Credits and references:
Crucifixion 2 by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Luke 23:34 (Msg)
Jesus down from Cross (cropped) by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” anonymous.
Banner: The Dark Night of the Soul (cropped) by Rene. Used with permission.
Originally published April 2, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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A Smelly, Sweet Encounter

Perhaps it wasn’t until Jesus and his disciples sat down to eat their evening meal that they noticed the unpleasant aroma of street and feet. I can imagine them all, tired from the day, edgy and irritated with each other, avoiding eye contact with Jesus. Let someone else do it. And someone else did.

Jesus got up, and desiring to show them the depth of his love, took off his outer garment and got a basin of water. I’d always pictured a hush coming over the room at that point and each disciple quietly waiting their turn, but seventeenth century painter Dirck van Baburen didn’t see it that way.

In his scene, a cacophony erupts that sounds worse than their feet smell. An older disciple accuses a younger one of shirking his duty. A couple of the men lament, “How did we let this happen?” Peter argues with Jesus while Andrew interferes; Jesus argues back.

And who was going to wash their master’s feet? They likely debated about that, too.

Finally they settled down and returned to their cold dinner. Then Jesus unsettled them again. “I have set an example for you that you should do as I have done for you,” he told them.

And how did they respond? Canadians know about using their inside voice in situations like this. But not one of the disciples was Canadian.

“I’m not washing John’s feet; he already thinks he’s so special.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Me either.”

“I’ll do it, and then I’ll wash my own.”

“You can’t wash your own, Doofus. Didn’t you hear what Jesus said? We need to take turns. I’ll draw up a roster.”

Maybe it didn’t happen like that. Maybe after they all got their feet washed and experienced Christ’s sacramental display of love, their hearts were humbled and transformed.

Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe not completely.

Jesus, I am just like them. You washed my feet and that very night I argued with my brother, fell asleep when you asked me not to, betrayed and deserted you.

You knew that would happen, yet you washed our feet anyway.

Flames by Tassoman

O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest center! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! if it be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!
— “Living Flame of Love” by St. John of the Cross

 Questions for your journey into Holy Week:

  • How do you feel when you’ve had a sweet encounter with Jesus and then fall back into old patterns of behaviour?
  • What would it be like to believe that love broke through the veil and left a sweetness in your heart?
Credits and references:
“Dirty Feet” by rbairdpccam. Used with permission.
Christ Washing the Apostles’ Feet Dirck van Baburen (circa 1594/1595–1624) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
John 13:1-17
“Flames” by Tassoman. Used with permission.
“Living Flame of Love” is in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Originally published April 1, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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