Some wildflowers my daughter and I picked today at the choir picnic.
Way back 500,000 years ago (that is, in February) I wrote a post about my experience of joining my parish choir (here she goes again) in which I stated that whatever it was that God was doing in me through this following Jesus thing that involved joining the choir was sprouted about 10% worth. And, quoting myself (how lame is that), I then said "stay tuned for the other 90%".
Since that time I have been meditating on the many facets of this experience to such a degree that I myself am a bit shocked with it. To a large extent all I have been able to do is, as we say in CL, stand in silence before the Mystery. But doing so lately has reminded me of Rich Mullins' song where he sings "It's so hot inside my soul, I swear there must be blisters on my heart." I need to struggle through putting this thing into words. "His word is in my heart like a burning fire, shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in, indeed, I cannot" (Jer. 20:9).
Yet I sense I am still very much in-the-midst-of, so no final words just yet.
Our director, Joe, leads not only my parish choir but a Presbyterian church choir as well, and today we all got together for a picnic at that church. Before we ate, each choir sang a couple of songs. As our choir arranged ourselves to sing, one of our dear members (who shall remain anonymous) made a lengthy public comment... I'm not sure exactly what the point of it was, but it was hilarious and very much in fitting personal style. I laughed until I was nearly in tears, and we went on to do our thing. Business as usual.
Much later, on the way home, I made a comment to my husband about this exchange. He was adamant and serious that said person had made a complete fool of said person's self. In the moment I just assured hubby, oh no, this is normal. But as I thought about it as the afternoon went on, I realized that the joy of this is much deeper for me. This hilarious comment was embraced by everyone because our choir is a place of freedom for people to be themselves.
Now I don't know about you, but I keep coming back to this reality and being completely and utterly amazed. How many parish functions or church groups or religious meetings have you been a part of where you felt like you needed a certain face, a certain stance, the acceptable way of talking, the acceptable plastic persona, the appropriate degree of religious fervor, the right way of being pious (etc.) before you feel acceptable to the others around you. It's an act! And no one wants to let on that they are "less" in the expected category. C'mon, am I the only one who has ever experienced this dynamic in the circles of Christendom? And what kind of real, living service ever comes out of groups where everyone is just posturing in front of each other? Nothing. Because no one is looking at Christ.
This kind of liberty comes only from Jesus. I keep realizing anew -- and being surprised each time -- that when I answered this quest to find where Jesus is present right in my own life, that is exactly what I found: Jesus present! This absolutely, positively changes everything! No wonder I can't stop thinking about it.
And on the theme of the richness of the liturgy, again. Today as our pastor began his homily on the Holy Trinity by saying that theologically, this is the central mystery of the Christian faith, it hit me like a ton of bricks: Relationship. God in his essence is not a solitude but a family, as John Paul II said. God IS relationship, and we are made in His image. I have focused so heavily, with Fr. Giussani and just with my life, on the mystery of the Incarnation that this reality of Trinitarian relationship just snuck up on me and said "boo!" today. But, of course! God used the Incarnation to come to us because of Who God is as Trinity: relationship. Instead of dry, flat theological ponderings these things are like the most vibrant and challenging realities imaginable to me right now.
Like I said, meeting Jesus in this way changes everything. How it happens, how it works, well this is what gives me blisters. The how of following Jesus in this way can only be discovered by doing it. Risking verification. Risking figuring out how to relate to my fellow sojourners. I mean, I have a certain repertoire when it comes to relating to others. But I need to take into account all this new information, like the fact that in Christ I have freedom to be who I am without apology, and that others have the same freedom, and that the relationships we have with each other in the body of Christ really do touch into realms of God's own authority and the obedience we owe Him, because we belong to Him and to each other... I've got to take in all this new information, make it mine, and then act with it to verify that indeed this is God's way, and it gets proven in my experience. Like Elijah putting the sacrifice on the altar and God sending the fire to burn it all up.
Please say a prayer for me that I get the fullness of what God is doing with me, in His time. There are several real-life tendrils growing from this experience and each one feels like one of the coals the seraph went after Isaiah with.
Yet I sense I am still very much in-the-midst-of, so no final words just yet.
Our director, Joe, leads not only my parish choir but a Presbyterian church choir as well, and today we all got together for a picnic at that church. Before we ate, each choir sang a couple of songs. As our choir arranged ourselves to sing, one of our dear members (who shall remain anonymous) made a lengthy public comment... I'm not sure exactly what the point of it was, but it was hilarious and very much in fitting personal style. I laughed until I was nearly in tears, and we went on to do our thing. Business as usual.
Much later, on the way home, I made a comment to my husband about this exchange. He was adamant and serious that said person had made a complete fool of said person's self. In the moment I just assured hubby, oh no, this is normal. But as I thought about it as the afternoon went on, I realized that the joy of this is much deeper for me. This hilarious comment was embraced by everyone because our choir is a place of freedom for people to be themselves.
Now I don't know about you, but I keep coming back to this reality and being completely and utterly amazed. How many parish functions or church groups or religious meetings have you been a part of where you felt like you needed a certain face, a certain stance, the acceptable way of talking, the acceptable plastic persona, the appropriate degree of religious fervor, the right way of being pious (etc.) before you feel acceptable to the others around you. It's an act! And no one wants to let on that they are "less" in the expected category. C'mon, am I the only one who has ever experienced this dynamic in the circles of Christendom? And what kind of real, living service ever comes out of groups where everyone is just posturing in front of each other? Nothing. Because no one is looking at Christ.
This kind of liberty comes only from Jesus. I keep realizing anew -- and being surprised each time -- that when I answered this quest to find where Jesus is present right in my own life, that is exactly what I found: Jesus present! This absolutely, positively changes everything! No wonder I can't stop thinking about it.
And on the theme of the richness of the liturgy, again. Today as our pastor began his homily on the Holy Trinity by saying that theologically, this is the central mystery of the Christian faith, it hit me like a ton of bricks: Relationship. God in his essence is not a solitude but a family, as John Paul II said. God IS relationship, and we are made in His image. I have focused so heavily, with Fr. Giussani and just with my life, on the mystery of the Incarnation that this reality of Trinitarian relationship just snuck up on me and said "boo!" today. But, of course! God used the Incarnation to come to us because of Who God is as Trinity: relationship. Instead of dry, flat theological ponderings these things are like the most vibrant and challenging realities imaginable to me right now.
Like I said, meeting Jesus in this way changes everything. How it happens, how it works, well this is what gives me blisters. The how of following Jesus in this way can only be discovered by doing it. Risking verification. Risking figuring out how to relate to my fellow sojourners. I mean, I have a certain repertoire when it comes to relating to others. But I need to take into account all this new information, like the fact that in Christ I have freedom to be who I am without apology, and that others have the same freedom, and that the relationships we have with each other in the body of Christ really do touch into realms of God's own authority and the obedience we owe Him, because we belong to Him and to each other... I've got to take in all this new information, make it mine, and then act with it to verify that indeed this is God's way, and it gets proven in my experience. Like Elijah putting the sacrifice on the altar and God sending the fire to burn it all up.
Please say a prayer for me that I get the fullness of what God is doing with me, in His time. There are several real-life tendrils growing from this experience and each one feels like one of the coals the seraph went after Isaiah with.
2 comments:
Oh, Marie! I have had this experience in other contexts! Yes, indeed, everything you said is so right. I saw you today after Mass talking to the organist and other person, and I could see on your face what you describe as happening inside your soul. So relaxed, laughing, genuinely happy. And how contagious!
well written and I understand completely-you really put down in words what I feel. As for the lengthy comment and the laughter-I have experience that Joy of humor that bubbles up from-the Holy Spirit perhaps-a place deep inside. That is what is wonderful about being in a place where people respect others and share a common love (or two). Thanks! :)
Post a Comment