Sodalitas: renewing our fellowship

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers” concerns the rousing Saint Crispin’s Day Speech given by the King in Shakespeare’s Henry V. Exhorting his men to greater valour, the speech enhances the victory against the French at Agincourt. Applied, it enhances a better understanding when we speak of a shared discipleship as we realise that, despite the claims, few intend to actualise them. Crucially, this failure enhances the illusion of knowing yourself and, consequently, judging others.  

Fellowship requests an inner equilibrium capable of eliminating the fear of the other: to recognise in the other, the other half of myself, for as we are told, “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another” (Proverbs 27,17). This understanding gives way to deeper insights: “But if we walk in the light, as he is the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his son, cleanses us from all sin” (1John 1,7). 

These insights help us redefine our understanding of what binds us together as a community since evangelical fellowship envisions ‘committed love’ (Agape) as its benchmark, considering that “whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love” (1John 4,8). It is not, therefore, confined to the apparent but reminds us to consciously examine our heart: “For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what make a man unclean, but eating with unwashed hands does not make him unclean” (Matthew 15,18-20).

The ability to distinguish between the essential and the secondary enhances our maturity since it provides us with the clear-mindedness to stand firm, unafraid to be different. When we lack this ability, fear underlines much of our doings: relentless analysis consolidates it. Daydreaming about what is or is not ideal shackles the Kingdom’s mysterious workings within our hearts so that, blinded to its dynamism, we are impoverished of its joyfulness. 

Lacking this evangelical joyfulness is indicative of our heart’s disharmony: the necessity to live arrayed by the Spirit in deeds, not words. Accordingly, “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5,22-23). These qualities measure our ‘conversion’ and willingness to explore God’s Presence in our lives. This entails letting God allure us to the silence of the desert and speak tenderly to our hearts (Hosea 2,14) so that our hearts convert into ‘Cor ad cor loquitur’ (heart speaks to heart). That is why there is ‘no law against these things’ (Galatians 5,23). 

Our friendships display this understanding, which can be challenging if the thirst for God underlines them. Sometimes, despite the hurts and misunderstandings, it is best to embrace silence and move beyond until that time when God’s Presence synergises our fellowships. A shared metanoia: a rethinking of our ‘committed-love’ (Agape) underlined by ‘self-emptying’ (Kenosis) signs this happy few band of brothers.


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

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...
Read more