OK, Friends, Here is the rest of what I wanted to write two days ago but ran out of time to do so.
First, the monkey hit again. Members of our community and workers are not careful enough to close and lock the nearby door to the dining room. The monkey has experienced remarkable "success" and will keep returning until we thwart him (or her). To be continued!
In the last three days I have received news of the deaths of three friends, one who is a Jesuit three years younger than me. He and I studied together for four years in Toronto while preparing for ordination. (1969-1973) He gave six years of his early priesthood to our mission in Uganda, the nation just to the west of us in Kenya, and then went back to Omaha to establish a school for young, pre-adolescent boys of African-American background. The school turned out to be a great success, I am told. Just last October he discovered some skin cancer. It spread rapidly and became too established for chemo to make a difference. He died a week ago last Saturday in great peace, with his family members gathered around him. He had a great, great life! Just too short!! I felt a certain vulnerability in regard to myself (being three years OLDER than him!) and a sense of needing maybe to get on with writing this second book I am feeling nudged to do and not delay much longer putting on paper my ideas! I find that once I sit to write, inspiration comes to me which I feel I don't have when I just look at my notes, stare out the window, and wonder where do I start, and will I be able to develop the idea, blah, blah, blah. I must make time for starting it.
Today as I write I am thinking of one of the greatest influences in my life, John of the Cross whose feast day is today. John wrote like no one else ever wrote. A 16th century Spanish poet, a Carmelite monk and priest who lived only 49 years (1542-1591) but with such depth, such richness and intensity, he wrote among other writings three books on the ins and outs of the spiritual journey. I took much, much from these three books for the book I wrote, which will be published very soon. My aim was to make his writings easier to read and understand for today's public. The book I took the most from is his "The Living Flame of Love," a four stanza poem about the Holy Spirit. John spends numerous pages explaining the images he uses in that poem. They are out of this world, so beautiful is his vision and way of expressing what we will all "look like" after God's Holy Spirit finishes with purifying us and opening up our divine possibilities, bringing us to a state and richness of life we can't even begin to imagine. What I try to do in my book is to make that vision more understandable and to give a sketch of the journey over which God brings us along to such a glorious destiny. Anyway, today is his day and he has been much on my mind. His life story and especially how he suffered terribly during two occasions, when he was imprisoned for about 10 months as a way to prevent him from bringing about needed renewal in the Carmelites of his time, and then at the end of his life how terribly he was treated by the religious superior in charge of the community where he spent the last weeks of his life. What emerges from the former suffering is how it opened up such great, great spiritual depths in him, reflected in his poems. The reader of his poems is so blessed to know something of these depths to which John's sufferings drove him, the depths of a human being and the depths of God.
I wanted last Friday to say something about Our Lady of Guadalupe and especially to talk about the pancho or cloak worn by the simple peasant, Juan Diego, that she appeared to in 1531. I ran out of time and could not address it with all the other things I wrote in the previous posting. Juan was an Aztec living under the humiliating control of Spanish conquerors who had just arrived in Mexico to gain greatly from the riches of that part of the world. It was a disaster for the culture of his people, a time of corporate depression. In the midst of that Juan, typical of those in his culture, has a stunning experience of the Mother of God. She appears to him dressed as an Aztec maiden pregnant with child (who later was to be understood as the Savior soon to be born through these visitations of God via Mary). She asks him to tell the local bishop to have a basilica built on the site of these apparitions. He is most afraid of this: so little is he, so exalted is the bishop. He tries to avoid her but he cannot. Eventually she strongly urges him to go to the bishop with her request and says she will make it abundantly clear to the bishop that Juan did not make up this message but is simply communicating her message at her request. What he does not realize is that when he finally consents to go to the bishop and gains a hearing, there falls out of his pancho lap in the presence of the bishop a bunch of roses --in the great cold of December, at a significant altitude that would preclude their blooming at that time of the year--that could only come from one place, the place where the basilica is to be built. And then what he does not realize is that as the roses fall out on the floor, there is seen by the bishop and all but Juan Diego an image of the Mother of God imprinted in the pancho. He is unaware of what is causing them to gasp upon seeing what is in his cloak. And with that, there begins the movement toward building the magnificent basilica that would serve as the place where God would lift up the spirits and spiritually strengthen these simple Aztecs who felt oppressed, crushed in spirit by the conquering Spaniards. With that as background I want to explain some amazing details about this pancho with the image of Jesus' mother in the form of an Aztec, pregnant maiden. Today it is mounted high up near the altar of the newer basilica at Guadalupe in Mexico City. Millions comes there every year to honor it and to bring their life with its burdens to God through her. I had the opportunity to be there two years ago last October to witness this place and learn of the story.
First, let me say that I personally know and have a special friend who lives in Farmington Hills, MI and when suffering MS she made a trip to Guadalupe in January of 1999 and asked in prayer for God's healing through the prayers of Our Lady of Guadalupe. She struggled just to get to Mexico City and get off and on the bus, on and off the plane as well. Less than 24 hours after she returned to her home in Farmington Hills, while waking from her sleep on the first morning after the return trip, she got out of bed and was shocked to find she could walk normally, that she no longer needed her walker nor any crutches. And to this day she has been free from the MS and the terrible depression or discouragement that went with it. Am I surprised by all of this? Yes, but not to the point that I do not believe these amazing events happening. I have read of some 67 similar stories of what happened to 67 people at Lourdes, France in the 1850s and later. I know the story of what happened there too well to know that what happened is nothing less than miracles of healing and they leave you stunned at the power and proximity of God. The data, confirmed by numerous doctors, some of them declared agnostics, are too overwhelming to doubt and explain away.
So let me tell you, if you are interested, something about the amazing nature of this pancho or tilma connected with the story of Guadalupe. Ophthamologists have found that when the eyes of the maiden on this tilma are exposed to the light, the retinas contract and when light is withdrawn, the retinas return to a dilated state, just as with your eyes or mine. The temperature of the tilma maintains a constant temperature of 98.6 F, the same as that of a living human body. A doctor when using a stethoscope placed below the black band at Mary's waist heard rhythmic beats at 115 pulses per minute, the same as that of a baby in the womb. No sign of paint has been discovered on the tilma. From a distance of 3-4 inches from the image, one can see only the cactus fibers of the material. In other words, the colors disappear. Studies have not been able to discover the origin of the coloration nor the way the image was produced. There are no signs of brush strokes nor any other painting technique. Scientists at NASA confirm that the paint or coloration material does not belong to any known element on earth. When the material was examined under a laser ray, it was shown that there is no coloration on the front nor the back of the cloth, and that the colors hover at a distance of .3 of a millimeter (1/100 of an inch) over the cloth, without touching it. So the colors actually float above the surface of the tilma.
Going on . . . the rough material of the tilma has a lifespan of no more than 20-30 years. Several centuries ago a replica of the image was painted on an identical piece of cactus and it disintegrated after several decades. Still, during the nearly 500 years of this amazing miracle, the cloth with the image of Mary remains as strong as it was in the first day. Science cannot explain why the material of the tilma has not disintegrated.
In 1791 muriatic acid was accidentally spilled on the upper right side of the tilma. Over the following 30 days, without any special treatment, the affected fabric re-constituted itself miraculously.
The stars that appear on the mantel of Mary reflect the exact configuration and positions of the stars that could be seen in the sky on that day (December 9) in 1531 when she came to Juan Diego and to all of us. In their total and proper places, the 46 most brilliant stars that can be seen on the horizon of the Valley of Mexico can be identified.
In 1921 someone concealed a high power bomb in a flower arrangement and placed it at the feet of the tilma. The explosion destroyed everything around it, except for the tilma which remained intact.
Scientists have discovered that the eyes of Mary have the three refractive characteristics of a human eye. In the eye of Mary (only one-third inch in size) miniscule human figures were discovered, which no artist could have drawn or painted. The same scene is repeated in each eye. Using digital technology the images in the eyes have been enlarged many times, revealing that each eye reflects the figure of the Aztec Indian Juan Diego opening his tilma in front of the bishop. The size of this scene is 1/100th of an inch.
Finally, it is interesting to learn that in the Indian language Guadalupe means "to crush the head of the serpent," which refers to the Book of Genesis 3:15 and the Book of Revelation, chapter 12. And the image on the tilma refers to a detail in the Book of Revelation, chapter 12, which says, "And a great sign appeared in heaven. A woman clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet." Lastly, the black band around her waist symbolizes pregnancy, suggesting God wanting Jesus to be born in the three Americas (north, central, and south), in the heart of each man and woman of the Americas. So in some mysterious way we all are born or birthed in Jesus by her. John, chapter 19, implies this when Jesus gives her to us as our mother and each of us to her as her child. In Jesus' dying words He encourages us to take her into our depths, to cherish her as our mother and to let God do miraculous things in us through her. If we learn to be as Juan Diego--to be poor in spirit, we will realize the same kind of transformation, healing, and salvation in our lives. Those who have faith in Jesus and this mystery experience the abiding friendship and protection of Mary and will feel a sense of being special to her. To Juan Diego she said:
My little child, the smallest of all, let nothing afflict you. Do you not know that you are in my lap? Am I not here, I who am your mother?
So, I have shared with you something that either challenges faith or strengthens it. In any case, I wanted to tell you this. It means very much to me, not so much because of the details about the tilma but more because of this message from her to Juan Diego quoted above. To me it says we are much more cared for by God, much more safe in God's hands than we realize, and we have no need to fear or be worried about our future because God in Christ has given each of us to her and her protection. We are so blessed.
I trust I will write another posting before Christmas. Until then, goodbye and blessings on you in these concluding days of Advent.
Bernie Owens
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Friday, December 12, 2014
Hi, dear friends,
It is almost four weeks since I last wrote, and I finally have some lengthy free-time to write. I have lots to say and want to share or discuss with you. So here it begins.
Some of you know that last week, from the evening of December 1 to the morning of December 10, I was in retreat. When I do my annual 8-day retreat I do nothing with the computer, and read no newspapers, and do not listen to radio and watch TV. For me it is sacred time to be with my best friend. For me this really bears wonderful results, too meaningful to miss out on.
I suppose that most of you don't have a sense of what this kind of retreat is like. Let me describe the format of a day. For me I had access to a trained director, someone who knows how to listen well, to keep quiet while I describe at length what has happened to me since we last met. Only then will the guide/director ask questions or make a comment, an observation on the meaning and significance of what I described going on in my prayer time and between those times. Only then will the guide/director mention possibilities for focus and prayer till the next time we would meet. This is so helpful because it means that the guide/director respects their role AS AN AID in the process and is careful NOT TO TAKE THE PLACE of God who is directing the retreatant. It would be like being a waiter at a restaurant serving you and an honored guest coming in for a great meal and conversation, rather than trying to take over the place of the guest you are with. So it means being careful not to interrupt, not to jump in too soon, but being slow to give any advice and to reflect back implications in what you the retreatant are saying.
Anyway, I would pray four distinct times each day, for 45 minutes each time, and then see my guide/director once every two days. Once right after breakfast, then again just before lunch, a third time right before supper, and then finally in mid evening, about an hour before going to bed. Mass was either at 7 AM or at 5:15 PM when 50 other people on retreat here at the same time would gather. In between those four times I was reading a very helpful book on the how and challenges of doing Christian contemplative prayer ("Into the Silent Land" by Martin Laird.) I would see my guide/director at 2 PM every other day for about 45 minutes. In the middle of the afternoon I would either nap, work out for about 40 minutes in our modest gym (treadmill and stationery bike plus a machine for upper body exercise, or work for a couple hours in my flower garden. This time I had lots of amarylis bulbs to plant. The roses are getting the oohs and ahhs of many. They are stunning!)
In past retreats I would start off the 45 minutes of prayer with some bible passage and eventually come to a single point, a single focus and remain there for most or a good part of the time. This year I was not drawn to doing that but simply started right away with sitting still in my bedroom, closing my eyes, and being focused on the One who is present to me all the time. There is something very engaging about being quiet, just quiet but attentive to God who is "right there"! Clearly, it is love that draws one and it is deep love that enables one to "see" or sense God present to you in this way. To be steady with that awareness is a gift and truly delightful; it is completely fulfilling and very satisfying to the soul. It consists in simply being with your best and deepest friend, "hanging out" with God. Some periods were dry and did not feel like any results came forth, but the majority of these 45 minute times with God were rather rich. A few were very powerful and deeply sweet to the soul. Part of the challenge is to stay present whether you "feel" anything is happening or not. One learns over time to accept whatever happens, whatever is given and to trust that something much deeper than what you can sense is being given to you. So you stay present as best you can, regardless of any particular feelings, insights, images or thoughts. All of those are no longer that important. What is important is the Divine Other, the deepest friend who is present in a way deeper than all these familiar ways of experiencing. Faith and trust take one deeper than any of these experiences and open you out to this One who means everything to you. It becomes the prayer of "being" rather than the prayer of "doing". Being with your friend and not having to talk or discuss . . . just being quiet together and enjoying each other's presence. . . that is what it is. And so this is the way it was for the 8 days.
On the sixth day of the retreat, in the afternoon, I had spent a lot of time sitting and reading from Laird's book. I did not feel like sitting through my late afternoon period of prayer. So I decided to take a slow walk on the trail inside our 50 acre plot. (I quote from the journal entry I wrote) "I found it to be wonderful, a time of closeness between God and myself, like old friends walking together and savoring the many wonderful things we have shared over the years and briefly recalling some of the dark times we went through but how His unconditional care and friendship were ever there. It was a golden moment in this retreat."
Last fall I had the student seminarians in my course on Teresa of Avila's "Interior Castle" read a commentary on the "Interior Castle." This book ("Distractions In Prayer: Blessing or Curse?") makes more sense to me on what is meant by our sinful tendencies and self-centered impulses than any other book I had read before on that topic. It gives lots of very good examples. This book (and Teresa) makes it very clear that as one gets further along in the journey, the more we become sensitive to anything that deviates from love of God, neighbor, and self, even in the least way. It made me want to spend some time during the retreat searching to know more explicitly what in me is like this, what in me is still separated from God and comes from self-centeredness. So I asked God, somewhat warily, that I be shown my sin during the retreat, if that should please God. Well, I really got an answer. Early in the retreat I found myself obsessing about a particular Jesuit in our community who never signs up to share in a certain ministry all of us are meant to share in. Recently we have had two priests no longer be part of our team, so the lead is heavier on everyone else. I spun in my mind my commentaries and speeches, ready to nail him and ask what makes him an exception. The resentment grew. Some of my prayer periods were spent just trying to get past these thoughts and feelings. It hardly felt like prayer; rather, there was appreciable inner turmoil and an experience of being rather powerless and caught in my own compulsive thoughts and insistence that this man carry his load. Yes, there was a certain reasonableness about my objecting and feeling like others about someone not doing their part. But there was a certain intensity and I guess self-righteousness, compulsiveness on my part in relating to this man and issue. I discussed this with my guide/director and she and I laughed in a sense about how I got from God what I had asked for. I related how I even had a dream connected to this issue. In it I dreamt I was talking with the president of Kenya and was complaining to him how the national newspaper is so negative in what it chooses to report on. In the dream the president looked flustered and unable to say anything in response to what I said. (end of dream.) After just a little thought about the dream I concluded that my deeper wisdom was confronting me and my presidential ego with an over-reacting and harboring nothing but critical thoughts toward someone (whom I actually like and have had some good conversations with!) But I will admit, it gets me that he will not sign up like the rest of us to share in the load of ministry responsibilities. My guide cautioned that maybe there is further information to be gotten, something I am not in touch with right now. So at the end of the retreat I found out that this person is doing exactly the same kind of responsibility three times a week but not with us! All of this inner turmoil got quieter as the retreat moved on, but it was embarrassing (and wearying!) to see how I got caught in a righteousness driven attitude that left me angry, frustrated, and resentful toward this man. It was like the dutiful older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son resentful toward his younger, prodigal brother who was being celebrated even though he had made a mess of his life and the family name.
One interesting dynamic that came up during the retreat was a strong inspiration to write another book. This inspiration has been coming to me at various times over the last months and now it has come home to my spirit again and rather strongly at times. I can remember while in the midst of the first book, which is coming out in March, that I "vowed" I would never do this again. After engaging in rewriting about the 10-12th time, one is so tired of doing it and almost loses interest in what you are doing. I am very glad I persevered in the first book and am somewhat surprised that God is nudging me, sometimes strongly, to write a second book. The topic is the depths of the human person reflecting the depths of God. I am initially taken by the depths of God, about what matters most to God, what moves God, what does God care about the most. I am fascinated by that topic. And instinctively I know that the depths of God are echoed in the depths of the human soul. I know that exploring that theme would make very important reading for many people who are interested in a deeper spiritual life. So I have a stack of scrap papers with short jottings on them with references to articles and books, something I know would be important matter for such a topic.
During the retreat I made some new friends, the birds who live just opposite my bedroom bay-window. There is a hedge maybe 100 feet from my window and many of them nest there. Some are beautifully plumed, with yellow and black, some with red, blue and grey, some with rust-orange, black and white, etc. I have a sill that extends a little on the outside of my window. I was putting relatively small bread pieces, sometimes cake chunks, on the sill and then sitting in my high-back chair and watching these beautiful creatures come in and take a piece. I would be only 5-6 feet away from them, on the other side of the glass window, watching them up that close. It was a treat and one of the pleasures I had during my retreat. Twice, after all the bread was taken, birds came and pecked at my window, obviously wanting more bread. They knew their source was just on the other side of that window. Really cute. Then twice, I witnessed one bird, a weaver bird with gorgeous yellow and black feathers, take a piece of bread, fly over to a nearby lemon tree, and proceed to break off small pieces and put them into the mouth of their mate. It was so wonderful to see that. He did it about 20 times. I do not know why the other bird had to be fed, but clearly the male was feeding its female mate.
Then the monkey!! On the morning I finished retreat (Wednesday, the 10th) and had said the mass, I was walking to the dining room and here, about 10 feet from me, is this monkey. It is like a medium sized dog with a very long tail and whiskers galore on its face. I said, "well, good morning!" and it ran up the side of this nearby pole and on to the roof. It got up there and stared at me. So I would give off a huff and jump one foot forward, and the monkey would jerk. I did that 5-6 times and each time it jumped, as if it was threatened. I wanted to show it who is boss. Well, once I got inside the dining room and said 'hello' to everyone after 8 days in silence, I get this story of how the damn monkey had come into our dining room the previous day, on two occasions, and stole bananas: once just one banana, the second time a BUNCH or CLUSTER of bananas! No wonder it had come back!! As I am preparing my breakfast, I see the monkey out on our veranda the other side of the sliding glass doors, too heavy for the monkey to move. The monkey was just beginning to eat the bread chunks that had been put out for the birds. So I got up from the table, went over to the window, stretched my hands high and in a threatening tone of voice made all kinds of noise--like a gorilla-- to threaten the snitch. It ran so fast over to an adjacent tree to wait for a moment when maybe we would all leave and it could make another "breaking and entering" move! Apparently, it is able to pull down the handle on the door for regular entry. We are now locking that door and making everyone come into the dining room from another entrance. What a clever and persistent rascal!! As one person at table said, "he is our cousin, you know. He has learned some of our own tricks!" So the critter is a nuisance but also a subject for conversation and humor.
I have more to say, especially regarding today's feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, but I will save that for another blog posting which I plan to write tomorrow or Sunday. It is getting late in the day here, independence day for this nation (51 years old today).
Take care!
Bernie Owens
It is almost four weeks since I last wrote, and I finally have some lengthy free-time to write. I have lots to say and want to share or discuss with you. So here it begins.
Some of you know that last week, from the evening of December 1 to the morning of December 10, I was in retreat. When I do my annual 8-day retreat I do nothing with the computer, and read no newspapers, and do not listen to radio and watch TV. For me it is sacred time to be with my best friend. For me this really bears wonderful results, too meaningful to miss out on.
I suppose that most of you don't have a sense of what this kind of retreat is like. Let me describe the format of a day. For me I had access to a trained director, someone who knows how to listen well, to keep quiet while I describe at length what has happened to me since we last met. Only then will the guide/director ask questions or make a comment, an observation on the meaning and significance of what I described going on in my prayer time and between those times. Only then will the guide/director mention possibilities for focus and prayer till the next time we would meet. This is so helpful because it means that the guide/director respects their role AS AN AID in the process and is careful NOT TO TAKE THE PLACE of God who is directing the retreatant. It would be like being a waiter at a restaurant serving you and an honored guest coming in for a great meal and conversation, rather than trying to take over the place of the guest you are with. So it means being careful not to interrupt, not to jump in too soon, but being slow to give any advice and to reflect back implications in what you the retreatant are saying.
Anyway, I would pray four distinct times each day, for 45 minutes each time, and then see my guide/director once every two days. Once right after breakfast, then again just before lunch, a third time right before supper, and then finally in mid evening, about an hour before going to bed. Mass was either at 7 AM or at 5:15 PM when 50 other people on retreat here at the same time would gather. In between those four times I was reading a very helpful book on the how and challenges of doing Christian contemplative prayer ("Into the Silent Land" by Martin Laird.) I would see my guide/director at 2 PM every other day for about 45 minutes. In the middle of the afternoon I would either nap, work out for about 40 minutes in our modest gym (treadmill and stationery bike plus a machine for upper body exercise, or work for a couple hours in my flower garden. This time I had lots of amarylis bulbs to plant. The roses are getting the oohs and ahhs of many. They are stunning!)
In past retreats I would start off the 45 minutes of prayer with some bible passage and eventually come to a single point, a single focus and remain there for most or a good part of the time. This year I was not drawn to doing that but simply started right away with sitting still in my bedroom, closing my eyes, and being focused on the One who is present to me all the time. There is something very engaging about being quiet, just quiet but attentive to God who is "right there"! Clearly, it is love that draws one and it is deep love that enables one to "see" or sense God present to you in this way. To be steady with that awareness is a gift and truly delightful; it is completely fulfilling and very satisfying to the soul. It consists in simply being with your best and deepest friend, "hanging out" with God. Some periods were dry and did not feel like any results came forth, but the majority of these 45 minute times with God were rather rich. A few were very powerful and deeply sweet to the soul. Part of the challenge is to stay present whether you "feel" anything is happening or not. One learns over time to accept whatever happens, whatever is given and to trust that something much deeper than what you can sense is being given to you. So you stay present as best you can, regardless of any particular feelings, insights, images or thoughts. All of those are no longer that important. What is important is the Divine Other, the deepest friend who is present in a way deeper than all these familiar ways of experiencing. Faith and trust take one deeper than any of these experiences and open you out to this One who means everything to you. It becomes the prayer of "being" rather than the prayer of "doing". Being with your friend and not having to talk or discuss . . . just being quiet together and enjoying each other's presence. . . that is what it is. And so this is the way it was for the 8 days.
On the sixth day of the retreat, in the afternoon, I had spent a lot of time sitting and reading from Laird's book. I did not feel like sitting through my late afternoon period of prayer. So I decided to take a slow walk on the trail inside our 50 acre plot. (I quote from the journal entry I wrote) "I found it to be wonderful, a time of closeness between God and myself, like old friends walking together and savoring the many wonderful things we have shared over the years and briefly recalling some of the dark times we went through but how His unconditional care and friendship were ever there. It was a golden moment in this retreat."
Last fall I had the student seminarians in my course on Teresa of Avila's "Interior Castle" read a commentary on the "Interior Castle." This book ("Distractions In Prayer: Blessing or Curse?") makes more sense to me on what is meant by our sinful tendencies and self-centered impulses than any other book I had read before on that topic. It gives lots of very good examples. This book (and Teresa) makes it very clear that as one gets further along in the journey, the more we become sensitive to anything that deviates from love of God, neighbor, and self, even in the least way. It made me want to spend some time during the retreat searching to know more explicitly what in me is like this, what in me is still separated from God and comes from self-centeredness. So I asked God, somewhat warily, that I be shown my sin during the retreat, if that should please God. Well, I really got an answer. Early in the retreat I found myself obsessing about a particular Jesuit in our community who never signs up to share in a certain ministry all of us are meant to share in. Recently we have had two priests no longer be part of our team, so the lead is heavier on everyone else. I spun in my mind my commentaries and speeches, ready to nail him and ask what makes him an exception. The resentment grew. Some of my prayer periods were spent just trying to get past these thoughts and feelings. It hardly felt like prayer; rather, there was appreciable inner turmoil and an experience of being rather powerless and caught in my own compulsive thoughts and insistence that this man carry his load. Yes, there was a certain reasonableness about my objecting and feeling like others about someone not doing their part. But there was a certain intensity and I guess self-righteousness, compulsiveness on my part in relating to this man and issue. I discussed this with my guide/director and she and I laughed in a sense about how I got from God what I had asked for. I related how I even had a dream connected to this issue. In it I dreamt I was talking with the president of Kenya and was complaining to him how the national newspaper is so negative in what it chooses to report on. In the dream the president looked flustered and unable to say anything in response to what I said. (end of dream.) After just a little thought about the dream I concluded that my deeper wisdom was confronting me and my presidential ego with an over-reacting and harboring nothing but critical thoughts toward someone (whom I actually like and have had some good conversations with!) But I will admit, it gets me that he will not sign up like the rest of us to share in the load of ministry responsibilities. My guide cautioned that maybe there is further information to be gotten, something I am not in touch with right now. So at the end of the retreat I found out that this person is doing exactly the same kind of responsibility three times a week but not with us! All of this inner turmoil got quieter as the retreat moved on, but it was embarrassing (and wearying!) to see how I got caught in a righteousness driven attitude that left me angry, frustrated, and resentful toward this man. It was like the dutiful older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son resentful toward his younger, prodigal brother who was being celebrated even though he had made a mess of his life and the family name.
One interesting dynamic that came up during the retreat was a strong inspiration to write another book. This inspiration has been coming to me at various times over the last months and now it has come home to my spirit again and rather strongly at times. I can remember while in the midst of the first book, which is coming out in March, that I "vowed" I would never do this again. After engaging in rewriting about the 10-12th time, one is so tired of doing it and almost loses interest in what you are doing. I am very glad I persevered in the first book and am somewhat surprised that God is nudging me, sometimes strongly, to write a second book. The topic is the depths of the human person reflecting the depths of God. I am initially taken by the depths of God, about what matters most to God, what moves God, what does God care about the most. I am fascinated by that topic. And instinctively I know that the depths of God are echoed in the depths of the human soul. I know that exploring that theme would make very important reading for many people who are interested in a deeper spiritual life. So I have a stack of scrap papers with short jottings on them with references to articles and books, something I know would be important matter for such a topic.
During the retreat I made some new friends, the birds who live just opposite my bedroom bay-window. There is a hedge maybe 100 feet from my window and many of them nest there. Some are beautifully plumed, with yellow and black, some with red, blue and grey, some with rust-orange, black and white, etc. I have a sill that extends a little on the outside of my window. I was putting relatively small bread pieces, sometimes cake chunks, on the sill and then sitting in my high-back chair and watching these beautiful creatures come in and take a piece. I would be only 5-6 feet away from them, on the other side of the glass window, watching them up that close. It was a treat and one of the pleasures I had during my retreat. Twice, after all the bread was taken, birds came and pecked at my window, obviously wanting more bread. They knew their source was just on the other side of that window. Really cute. Then twice, I witnessed one bird, a weaver bird with gorgeous yellow and black feathers, take a piece of bread, fly over to a nearby lemon tree, and proceed to break off small pieces and put them into the mouth of their mate. It was so wonderful to see that. He did it about 20 times. I do not know why the other bird had to be fed, but clearly the male was feeding its female mate.
Then the monkey!! On the morning I finished retreat (Wednesday, the 10th) and had said the mass, I was walking to the dining room and here, about 10 feet from me, is this monkey. It is like a medium sized dog with a very long tail and whiskers galore on its face. I said, "well, good morning!" and it ran up the side of this nearby pole and on to the roof. It got up there and stared at me. So I would give off a huff and jump one foot forward, and the monkey would jerk. I did that 5-6 times and each time it jumped, as if it was threatened. I wanted to show it who is boss. Well, once I got inside the dining room and said 'hello' to everyone after 8 days in silence, I get this story of how the damn monkey had come into our dining room the previous day, on two occasions, and stole bananas: once just one banana, the second time a BUNCH or CLUSTER of bananas! No wonder it had come back!! As I am preparing my breakfast, I see the monkey out on our veranda the other side of the sliding glass doors, too heavy for the monkey to move. The monkey was just beginning to eat the bread chunks that had been put out for the birds. So I got up from the table, went over to the window, stretched my hands high and in a threatening tone of voice made all kinds of noise--like a gorilla-- to threaten the snitch. It ran so fast over to an adjacent tree to wait for a moment when maybe we would all leave and it could make another "breaking and entering" move! Apparently, it is able to pull down the handle on the door for regular entry. We are now locking that door and making everyone come into the dining room from another entrance. What a clever and persistent rascal!! As one person at table said, "he is our cousin, you know. He has learned some of our own tricks!" So the critter is a nuisance but also a subject for conversation and humor.
I have more to say, especially regarding today's feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, but I will save that for another blog posting which I plan to write tomorrow or Sunday. It is getting late in the day here, independence day for this nation (51 years old today).
Take care!
Bernie Owens
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)