Vivo memor leti …

To live remembering death (Vive memor leti) might sound pessimistic, but it recalls us to our senses because we easily make choices that ignore the limits imposed by death. This is one reason why we need to focus on our familiarity – the little things in life that illuminate us as light gives way to the magical: the privilege to live and let others live, to think and understand, to enjoy and appreciate, to love and be loved. Accordingly, life’s familiarity enhances our discipleship because it reminds us how God reveals Himself and challenges us to understand beyond ourselves. It should not, therefore, surprise us that God uses familiarity to attract our attention as He did with Moses: “Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There, the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within the bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire, it did not burn up. So Moses thought: ‘I will go over and see this strange sight – why the bush does not burn up” (Exodus 3, 1-3). In the familiarity of his environment, shepherding his father-in-law’s sheep (the secular), Moses encountered the unexpected (the sacred): “the flames of fire from within the bush.” 

If we are receptive to the Divine, God does the same with us: this awareness of the ‘Wholly Other’ draws us to “go over and see this strange sight”. In other words, we too are challenged to interpret our familiarity as a response to God’s presence (Gaudium et Spes). Rather than isolating us from our surroundings, our response leads to a deeper understanding of them, which reaffirms the need to interpret the signs of the times – “signa temporis” - as the basis of our renewal. This process invites us to engage the concrete space and times in which we live through the sacraments, where we encounter God in the here and now, where the Magister comes to us offering us His grace and life. 

The fear of risk can compromise our response: to let go of our certainties and embrace unknown horizons. In other words, to let Agape enhance my familiarity by embracing the truth revealed in my reasoning, talking and doing. Hence, within the limits of our familiarity, we are invited to appreciate what we have received (1 Corinthians 11, 23-26), which is far more than we give, because gratitude enriches our understanding, sharpening our awareness, considering that time stands still best in an unappreciated familiarity.

Ignoring our familiarity can blind us because we are deafened to the Magister’s warning that whoever does not receive the kingdom like a child will not enter it at all (Luke 18,15-17). We become evangelical when we explore our hearts and ensure that they do not lose their childlike qualities, so that all days are remarkable, because living the joyfulness of the resurrection is itself extraordinary. Conversely, when our hearts harden – when they are no longer childlike – weariness overwhelms us so that the familiar is burdensome. When this happens, the cross is no longer indicative of the resurrection. Ignoring this insight, overwhelmed by insecurity, we shelter in a self-created ghettoisation underlined by fear of what lies beyond: the significance of the empty tomb. And thus, we fail to embrace the proclaimed newness, and by the time we do, we no longer understand it. 

In our prayer and familiarity, we are called to fulfil ordinary life by letting the significance of the resurrection enrich our familiarity to enhance the presence of the Magister – “The Way, the Truth and the Life” (Jn. 14,6). Contemplative silence underlines this understanding because it enlightens our hearts and minds: the noise we create and sustain prevents us from listening. This is especially felt in liturgies whose purpose is to embrace unknown horizons by emphasising our voices.   

Martin


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