A SANCTUARY IN TIME

    We readily limit the significance of the cross to an emblem to consolidate a religious or cultural identity or as an excuse to enhance our misery, forgetful that “misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows” (William Shakespeare, The Tempest II.2).

    The significance of the cross highlights our baptism because, as pointed out by Saint Augustine, all those who belong to Jesus Christ are fastened with him to the cross, which sets the setting for Bonhoeffer’s assertion that the cross is not the terrible end to an otherwise happy life: it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ.    

    Scrutinising these insights, we need to focus on Shabbat’s stillness where the cross becomes a sanctuary in time, challenging our trustworthiness: it expresses a lived-out silentium underlined by the Magister’s reassuring presence: ‘Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest’ (Matthew 11,26). 

   Our weariness expresses our effort to be loyal to Christ Jesus. Living our baptism hurts because enkindled by the warmth of Christ’s presence, we mirror his self-emptying’ (Kenosis) by being loyal to our baptismal promises. 

    This is the reason we seek our restfulness in the Father through His Son, which offers us an equilibrium underlined by serenity strengthened by the Holy Spirit:  an insight that encourages us not to be afraid to plunge into the darkness of troubled hearts who lack the Magister’s restfulness, witnessing His compassion.

    Witnessing God’s ‘loving-kindness’ (Hesed) initiates an adventure best defined by St. Ignatius as ‘Contemplatio ad Amorem’. However, adventures can prove misleading when mistaken for escapades. Hence, the need to identify with the Magister strengthens, because “For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1,21). 

    The Shabbat’s stillness, envisaged as a “Sanctuary in time” (Abraham Herschel, The Shabbat) initiates this identification: it requires us to explore a deeper understanding of the cross as a maturing and enriching experience focused on serving others.

    Pureness of heart allows us to encounter God in others (Matthew 5,8); lacking it, abuse is ensured. Focusing solely on ourselves is easily mistaken for God’s will and the temptation to use others to satisfy personal needs or interests. Neither can we limit it to things sexual, which sometimes is interpreted as an excuse to detach from others in an attempt not to get hurt. 

    We are tempted to speak rather than to listen; to teach rather than learn; to do rather than to be, but this does not suffice when speaking of a discipleship underlined by prayer focused on the cross. 

    Contemplating the Crucifix, we learn not to rush: to embrace Shabbat’s stillness, now encountered on Golgotha, as a path to better insights and more profound exploits, which identify with the empty tomb. 

    Revitalised by this stillness, contemplating His body upon the cross, we are invited to live for righteousness because our wounds have been healed (1Peter 2,24): to be “still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46,10). This stillness initiates prayer because we learn to listen to our hearts: a response to God’s search for me, which, as indicated by Bonhoeffer, requires us to be interrupted in our doings by exposing our hearts to His Word.    

    This exposure reminds us, following Saint Theodore the Studite, that in the cross there is no mingling of good and evil, as in the tree of paradise: it is wholly beautiful to behold and good to taste. The fruit of this tree is not death but life, not darkness but light, but we understand this not by words, but by living this insight.

Martin 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

INTRODUCTION

 The saints did not all begin well, but they all ended well  – Saint Jean Marie Vianney      As stories are told and retold, living them, it is not unusual that they are embellished. This should not surprise us: Gandalf observes that all good stories deserve embellishment (JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit ). Indeed, historical episodes that bedeck national identity are magnified and even altered as they cache the complexities underlying these narratives, now simplified to serve their purpose.       My intention here is diverse: what is intended is a personal undressing associated with an experienced ‘self-emptying’ (Kenosis, Philippians 2,7) as I seek to understand my discipleship: a participation of gained experiences rather than pedagogies.      Following in the footsteps of John of the Cross, ‘ Kenosis ’ relates to a maturing process transforming the disciple into an icon that evokes likeness to the Magister (St. John of the Cross,...
Read more

SILENTIUM EST AUREM

       Growing older and perhaps less tolerant, the old Latin saying   - Silentium est aurem (Silence is golden) enhances its value because it protects me from futile noises, and clarity unfolds. In an environment infiltrated by noise, silence is elusive and yet, in its stillness, my true self emerges from noise’s haziness.             Painful experience has taught me that silence’s aptitude shatters doubt’s commotion. Its stillness enlightens my faith - the confidence in what we hope for and the assurance about what we do not see (Hebrews 11,1). Augustine’s advice thus enlightens: ‘ Enter into your heart, and if you have faith, you will find Him there ’ ( Confessions Bk 10), because in silence, we attune our hearts to the Divine Presence.             Through silence’s stillness, our heart finds its voice: our readiness to dialogu...
Read more