“The earth is the only road that can lead us to heaven. There is no other. And the earth is not an idea, an argument, an abstraction, or a concept. It is not even a law. It is a thing, a gigantic thing, a great tangled swarming mass of things; it is a universe.

“And because we must be led to God by things, they have therefore within them everything that is needed for the divine fulfillment of this task. It is, strictly speaking, their main role.

“All around us, Providence has placed hosts of silent messengers who can lead us without effort by paths of love to the holy springs of peace.

“Water, wood, fishes, the morning dew, the cock crowing at dawn, should all be able to inspire our prayer. Clothes and flowers, perfumes and pearls, the wind whistling past, the bread on the table, the jug, chair and roof… all these things have been sanctified, all these things have been loaded with blessings and divine inspiration by the Word.”

Pierre Charles
The Prayer of All Things

The smiling Christ of the Castle of Saint Francis Xavier, Navarra, Spain.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. For whoever has died is freed from sin. But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

Romans 6: 3-11

What has Christ saved us from?  The fear that we are alone to figure out what life is to be about until we die.  The end of the story changes the whole story: we will rise with him.  Therefore we must take on the great work of love, the terrible and suffering work of love in the face of injustice and fear and hatred and all other manner of sin.  For Christ has conquered sin: he has shown us that there is to be life in the face of the suffering we take on because of sin.  Why act with love when all around us there is grasping, anger, competition, selfishness, corruption, and the temptations of false and skewed desires?  Why act with integrity, with justice, with fairness, with hope, instead of with self-interest, with laziness, with cynicism?  Because Christ has risen: he has shown us that the doorway of death opens to resurrection.  He has shown us that our hope is not in vain.  He accepted the consequence of living with love: he lived among us–we who kill those who do not compete to win.  He went to court, he carried his cross, and he died.  Smiling.  For at that moment (and perhaps even earlier) he knew that the next chapter was about to unfold, and it was going to be good.

Are you part of that story?

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think that I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

–Thomas Merton

Remember a time when you saw Jesus with the inner eyes of your soul, when you experienced his presence in a vivid way, when he came alive for you in your prayer. Remember the inner details and outer circumstances of the experience. Savor the richness of the experience and relive it in your memory, feeling, imagination, heart, and mind. Be attentive to God’s presence.

• What were the circumstances of the experience, that is, were you by yourself, on a retreat, at a liturgy?
• How would you describe Jesus’ presence in the experience?
• What were some of your feelings, thoughts, and desires?
• What differences did you notice within yourself as a result of this experience?
• Do you notice anything new happening in you now as you remember and relive the experience?

As you relive it, be attentive to God’s presence. Share with God any feelings that arise, and listen to God’s response. Ask God for the grace to notice Jesus more readily within yourself and within your life.

Margaret Conroy, RSM
The Discerning Heart

A listening exercise by Vinita Wright, from her book Days of Deepening Friendship.

Over the next several days, practice listening. Listen to everything—traffic sounds, nature sounds, speaking sounds, and the sounds of peace and quiet. Try to listen with great attention for five or ten minutes every day. Do this during a coffee/tea break, if that helps.

Then, gradually tune in to God’s voice. This voice will come through many of the sounds you have already been noticing. It will also emerge as you partake of the arts—books, music, paintings, dance, and so forth. You will hear God’s voice during worship or while your children are playing.

Try to spend a few moments each day quietly listening for God. Don’t say anything or ask for anything. Or if you do ask for something, may it be, “God, help me tune in to your voice.”

The feast of Epiphany today brings the Christmas season to an end.  To mark the day, here’s a litany called “Now the Work of Christmas Begins” composed by Howard Thurman, an African-American theologian, educator, and civil rights leader.

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

In the motherhouse of the Sisters of Saint Joseph, Pittsford, NY (artist unknown)

This past Sunday was the feast of the Holy Family, and it calls to our imagination that “longest sermon” of Jesus first thirty years, as Cardinal Seán O’Malley called it.

I remember, as a teenager, wondering what Jesus was like as a teenager.  (What did he do with rushing hormones, for example?)  As a father, now, I find myself wondering what Joseph was like.   I sometimes find myself thinking about their ordinary life–Joseph heading off to work, Mary making bread, Jesus helping clean up or doing lessons.  What were weekends like?  Holidays?  Dinner time?  How did they pray together?  What was it like at the Temple?  How did Joseph show affection towards Mary, or vice versa?  Did Jesus ever do anything that really irritated his parents?  Did Mary ever feel overwhelmed?  Did Joseph ever second-guess marrying Mary?  Did Jesus ever wonder what he was going to be when he grew up?

I love the sculpture in the photo–it struck me as a very human portrayal of the family.  (I took the photo when I was there last month, during a delightful visit to Nazareth College.)  During this week, perhaps we might try a little Ignatian imaginative prayer, paying a new year’s visit to this young family and learning more about them.  What does their home smell like?  What do you see?  How do they greet you, and what do you talk about?

A meditation on the Holy Family might help us recall that theirs is not the only holy family.  Family life is vocational: it is a calling from God.  Every act, every decision within the life of the family, when done with great love, is a real symbol of Christ’s love.  During this holy season, let us recall our holy families and reach out to them with ever more generous love.  Let us too reach out to those without families, recalling the words of the mature Jesus who redrew the lines of family: “those who hear and do the will of God are my mother and my brothers” (Lk 8:21).  The love we learn and practice in families is ultimately the love that ought to govern our way of relating to all people.

Fr. Jim Martin, SJ, notes something unusual in a Renaissance depiction of the Annunciation: Mary is surprised, but the angel Gabriel seems to be surprised too. That’s the beginning of a fine Advent meditation. (If you can’t see the video, click here.)

This depiction of the Nativity is a mosaic by Fr. Marko Rupnik, SJ, in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at Sacred Heart University in Connecticut.  Fr. Jim Martin has written meditations on three of the mosaics in a recent online edition of America magazine.  You can view a slideshow of Rupnik’s mosaics here.

Brother Thomas Koller, SJ, at the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, California, has been praying the rosary with Ignatian-style visualization, a method of prayer used in the Spiritual Exercises. His meditations on the mysteries help people put themselves into the gospel setting as participant-onlookers.  Fifteen of Brother Koller’s meditations can be found here.  (H/T to my friend Jim Campbell.)