S. TERESA OF AVILA and the Love of God

'Those who really love God love all good, seek all good, help forward all good, praise all good and invariably join forces with good men and help and defend them.  They love truth and things worthy of love.  Do you think it possible that those who really and truly love God can love vanities, riches, worldly pleasures and honours?  Can he engage in strife or feel envy?  No, his only desire is to please the beloved.' (The Interior Castle.  Ch.3)

DO YOU LOVE ME MORE THAN ...

THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER

Sermon preached in the Church of S. John Baptist, Eltham

at Parish Mass on April 14^th, 2013

INTRODUCTION

"I remember that the mist hung lazily over Galilee that morning and the Lake glistened in the early sun.  I had seen many mornings like this, sometimes alone but more often with the other fishermen.  But that morning was different: different in so many ways.

John saw him first through the light of dawn as we neared the shore.  He knew it was Jesus even tho' he was but a shape sitting alone on the small sandy beach.  John always knew, in his heart, when it was him.  There was something between them that was stronger than sight, or hearing.  You understand. 

But I hadn't noticed him!  Far too preoccupied (as usual!) with what was going on at that moment.  If I remember right I was organising the others to gather in the net.  They say I've always good at organising, even if my own life can be a bit of a mess!  That's the trouble with us enthusiasts. 

Well, you know what happened after that, the incredible haul of fish and then the meal which followed.  Did you catch the resonances as you heard the story?  It wasn't just a meal.   The lakeside ... some fish ... broken bread?  They call it eucharist now: then it was - life - that we shared.  But life with a capital 'L'.  His life: the world's life.  The Bread of Life.  John, of course, wrote about it in as many ways as he could.

Jesus!  Just saying that name reminds me of the - inadequacy – of trying to communicate what we experienced!  He wasn't just the Jesus we had known, not even the Jesus John had known!  He was ... the Christ, the anointed One, the Son of Man on whom the angels of God ascended and descended!  Flowery language?  No language (not even John’s) can do justice to that man.  Maybe you've read one of my letters: he's the only one who can save the world from itself - from its blindness and selfishness.  God is so generous!  That's what I want people to understand.

After our meal was over we began talking together in small groups.  Then Jesus took me to one side.  When he asked me to go with him I somehow knew this was going to be decisive moment.  Many thought John was to be the one whom Jesus would appoint as leader after he left us.  (We knew he must do that - leave.  He'd made that clear.  It was we who must continue the work: to be the witnesses to all that had happened).  But it wasn't to be John.  Some said it was because he was too close to Jesus.  But that wasn't the reason.  No, it wasn't their relationship that was the problem. 

So why did he chose me? 

Like the others, I thought it must be John.  I often felt I was shallow.  Impetuous.   Someone who acted on the spur of the moment.  Even my wife had found me hard to live with!  (That's why you never hear much about her).  John said, afterwards, that he'd always known that I was the one Jesus wanted as leader.  'You can hold things together', he said, 'And get things done'.  But Jesus had to make me - force me - to examine my depths.  So that question, 'Do you love me?'  Three times!   Of course Jesus knew I did!  But did I?  Did I know the depth of my love? 

Jesus had to push me, force me to examine myself.  I wasn't very good at self-knowledge!  Not at that point, at least ...  Three times.  Three times before the cocks began crowing (yes, we heard them soon afterwards - a chilling moment).  And I remembered that passage from the Books of Moses: 'If you return to the Lord with all your heart - and with all your soul - and obey his voice ... you will be made prosperous and more numerous than your ancestors'. 

The word, suddenly, wasn't far away in heaven, it was there, in front of me!  And it was in my heart - and then my mouth:  ' Lord, you know everything.  You know that I love you!'  But I also knew that in asking me to face my passion he was also asking me to face my fear and the possibility of my own death.  Because once I'm passionate about something, I'll give my life to it.  All or nothing.  That's the way it is with me.  

There are plenty of leaders who are committed.  But passionate?  That's what often is lacking in leaders, or those who aspire to leadership.  And the one who are passionate are often so focussed onto what they believe that they become dictatorial.  Megalomaniacs!  No, what we need are people passionate and committed to the good of others, especially the most vulnerable; to a way which can bring life to all.  That’s what’s needed.  And Jesus had already shown us the kind of leadership he wanted us to exercise - he wanted us to be servants - slaves of God, of his message and of his people.  There's no glory in it.  No glorifying success.  The glory can only be his.  The suffering, now, ours.  That's why you've got to love him so much that people see you as that – disciples of his love – and find that love is the meaning behind all you do.

But the world (to use a phrase John loves) finds it hard to understand that.  It can cope with success; it loves progress.  But it finds love so hard, doesn't it?  We're all crying out to be loved, but to love?  That's why he had to ask me the question - three times!  'Do you love?' 

I suppose I was fairly selfish.  I wanted everything to go my way. 

I was convinced that my existence - my ideas, hopes, desires - beliefs even – was all that mattered.  So I had to learn not to be driven by what people now call their ego but be driven by him, by love for him, not by my-self.  And that's so hard.  It's still hard to really hand my life over to him.  But that morning was, in a real sense, a moment of crisis and decision for me.  My moment of real conversion as I listened to that question, ‘Do you love me?’

You might think that strange.  After all, I had been with him for so long.  Got used to him.  But that question, ‘Do you love me?’ moved me into a new relationship with him.  Funny to use the word conversion, but that’s what it was.  Usually people use that word of Paul on the road to Damascus when he saw Jesus in a blinding flash. 

He had ‘seen the light’ and had come to believe Jesus offered new life.  Now he’s really passionate about his new-found faith!  I wish other’s shared his passion …   It changed his life and I want others to know that it can change theirs.  I suppose both of us share the same passion – and we sometimes get into passionate arguments!  But that’s life. 

Maybe you won’t come to faith in a blinding flash.  Most of us don’t.  But – let me finish with that question Jesus asked me – and asks you – that question which came so suddenly after all those years and after so many mistakes I had made.  That question which still echoes in my heart and continues to probe me so deeply.  My conversion experience, if you like. 

Do you love me ... "

LATE HAVE I LOVED YOU...

SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT

Sermon preached in the Church of All Saints, New Eltham

at Parish Mass on February 24^th, 2013

Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new,

Late have I loved you! (S. Augustine)

X

INTRODUCTION

The scenes of bloody massacre are all too familiar.  Whether it’s Syria, Pakistan or America, so much death and destruction, often in the name of religion.  And still, at times, in the land we call Holy.  “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it”, yet this is the place Jesus now heads for.  Jerusalem, the centre of conflict and heart of the world’s three monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam.  The place where God chose to dwell in the Holy of Holies, yet still the focus of struggle and lament.  So this morning I want to consider just what kind of God we are called to believe in who said to Abram, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.  So shall your descendants be.’ And we are counted amongst those ancestors. 

I AM THE GOD OF ABRAHAM, ISAAC AND JACOB

Firstly, human experienced God through the universe in which we live.  Look to the heavens – and marvel at the stars.  For many, they are just that – lumps of rock in the sky flung there in consequence of primeval, yet ever flowing forces, which sometimes come to earth with terrifying force.  But for one who looks at the universe and sees beneath outward appearances, mystery embraces all things.  To the mystic or simply the contemplative, ‘the heavens declare the glory of God’ in all their wonder and power.

To the saint – whether Francis of Assisi or Seraphim of Sarov – all things co-exist and each of us is called to become ‘at one’ with creation. We are called to realise we are brothers and sisters of all things – and thus to venerate matter because God in Christ entered the material world.  All these concepts and more are shared, in one way or another, by all religions.  So why, if we agree that everything speaks of the wonder of God and our own mortality, why does religion seem to create such misery for so many?

When I see the heavens, the work of your hands,

the moon and the stars which you have arranged,

what are we that you should keep us in mind,

men and women that you care for us?

Yet you have made us little less than gods;

and crowned us with glory and honour,

gave us power over the works of your hands,

put all things under our feet.  (Ps. 8)

But that, if you like, is the problem.  We have power, the power of God, in our hands.

RELIGION AND GOD

The world, for many, speaks of a mystery that is called God and people have long desired to probe and explain something of the meaning of this word.   Soon we will say:  We believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.  No problem there, whatever our religion. 

But then we affirm some amazing things concerning God: that he became human, suffered and died (impossible, Muslims would say) but rose again and lives forever.  Whoah, Jews would exclaim!  Not so.  The seeds of conflict are already there.  And so are they within religions.  Shi’ite or Sunni, Catholic or Protestant, Zionist or Liberal; religions divided amongst themselves.   And it’s no use simply saying that conflict is all due to religion: it’s clear that non-religious division exists within societies.  Tory or Labour, Republican or Democrat, the English and the rest of Europe.  We seem to thrive on disagreement, conflict and separation.  We are far from the little girl who, looking up at the stars said, “We’ve got lots of different points of view, but God has lots of different points to view from.”

THE PROBLEM OF DIFFERENCE

So, perhaps we should all be the same.  Wouldn’t that make the world a better place?  No conflict, no difference, everyone the same as … me…  When I am at my best??? 

Well, maybe you as well, but I’m not sure about her…

Yes, if everyone were like us that would be OK,

though I know you have some faults so it would be better if everyone were like me…

You understand, I’m sure, the problem.  Difference is of the essence of creation.  And, as S. Paul  reminded his readers, what makes us different is that we look for ‘a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ (who) will transform (us) so that we may be conformed to … his glory’ (Phil.3:21)

GOD IN CHRIST

So this God whom men seek and in whose Name some will fight and die, the one who reveals his beauty in the mystery of creation, is to be found in Jesus.   

To proclaim that we believe in God is in Christ is not to say that we understand what that means.  Just that we believe that life is ‘more than’: more than all the boundaries we place upon it because of our limited perspective.  That we are loved with a Divine Love that desires to unite us in Love.  The mystic knows this: the purist may glimpse that might be true but such a God is too big for them.  The challenge of the embrace of Divine Love, the embrace of God in Christ, is too freeing – too dangerous.  Their need for certainty entraps them.  So they become driven to kill off those who want to make God too big.  Yet -

"… the love of God is broader

than the measure of man's mind.
And the heart of the eternal 

is most wonderfully kind."

So wrote Fr. Faber in his famous hymn,

Who can God be for me?  Well, S. John in his Letters tells us that those who live in love, live in God and God lives in them.  And that is the love that made the worlds and, like a consuming fire, will never go out.  That is the God in whom I am to believe.  The whole of creation, you and I, made for love, by Love and only truly knowable by lovers.  Science may answer ‘what’: faith seeks to understand ‘why’.    Who is the God in whom we believe?  God is love and all we need to do is abandon ourselves to that Love.

OUR DIVINE LOVER

During Lent I am reading the ‘Spiritual Letters’ of Sr. Wendy Beckett, whom many of us will know through her television appearances as the ‘art nun’.  In the opening letter she wrote:  

‘What we cannot accept is that we are the beloved, or to put it more concretely… that I am the beloved.  He longs for me, He presses on my heart with a tender, humble, hunger for me.  He wants to possess me…’   Always His love drives Him to possess – one might call this the prayer of living?  …  To be so loved and so wanted is so terrifying and so awful we can see why we shrink from believing it.’  (p.3)

CONCLUSION

In my work of Spiritual Direction I have the privilege of travelling with people who are seeking to live with a greater awareness of themselves as Beloved and to respond more freely to that Love.  It was this sense of at-one-ness with Love and the desire to be fully abandoned to God that drove Jesus on and that, finally, was the cause of his crucifixion.  And it was by Love that he was transfigured him and brought from the depths of hell.  That was the awareness of God that led S. Augustine to compose the poem whose opening verse I quoted and with which I will end.

Late have I loved you,

Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!

Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong,

I, misshapen.
You were with me but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being
were they not in you.

You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance,
I gasped, and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace

Amen.

IN THE DESERT OF THE HEART LET THE HEALING FOUNTAIN START

Just back from the London Spirituality Centre’s Network Day which was expertly led by Julie Dunstan on the theme of ‘Happy are those who mourn - Loss, Lamentation and Laughter’.  Towards the end she posed a question concerning the relationship between spirituality, psychotherapy and social action. 

Reflecting on this matter I realise the fundamental importance of our Lord’s summary of the Law in the words of the Shema – ‘“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself.” (Lk. 10:27)  These words, of course, have been understood to show that love of God, neighbour and self are inter-connected.  Whatever spiritual practices we are drawn to, this dynamic must be present for them to be authentic.  In a similar way social action must be rooted in this love.

It is, then, the ‘heart’ that is fundamental and what is contained in the heart – how it ‘inclines’ and on what it is fixed.  Yet the heart is full of contradictions, of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ and it has always been the realm of religion to remind us of the need to ‘Know thyself’ and that all true spirituality is rooted in this quest which must not be separated from the desire for the Other through whose empathetic gaze we are redeemed and made whole.  All this is also rooted in true humility which, as the ‘Principles’ of the First Order of the Society of St. Francis state:

Humility is the recognition of the truth about God and ourselves, the recognition of our own insufficiency and dependence, seeing that we have nothing which we have not received. It is the mother of all Christian virtues. As Saint Bernard of Clairvaux has said, No spiritual house can stand for a moment save on the foundation of humility. (Day 25)

As the First Epistle of St. John points out: ‘If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.’  To understand the value of an-other (in whatever way one wants to understand that term) one need only reflect on the fact that it is the Other who helps me understand myself, my desires, impulses, sins, failings, desires and so on and how these draw or drive me and how they can help in my redemption.  I need my brother (sister/an-other) if I am to be whole.

For me, therefore, the desire to develop a spiritual life is intimately connected with my own wholeness which, in turn, can only be realised in communion with an-other.  And all this is focussed in the ‘heart-space’.  Indeed, the ‘work’ of spirituality is as simple as desiring for it to be emptied of everything apart from that love for an-other, to be a desert place of encounter, my solitary cell which welcomes the other for it is being swept clean to make space to welcome that Divine guest in whose loving, empathetic gaze I am made whole.

IN THE DESERT OF THE HEART LET THE HEALING FOUNTAIN START

Just back from the London Spirituality Centre’s Network Day which was expertly led by Julie Dunstan on the theme of ‘Happy are those who mourn - Loss, Lamentation and Laughter’.  Towards the end she posed a question concerning the relationship between spirituality, psychotherapy and social action. 

Reflecting on this matter I realise the fundamental importance of our Lord’s summary of the Law in the words of the Shema – ‘“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself.” (Lk. 10:27)  These words, of course, have been understood to show that love of God, neighbour and self are inter-connected.  Whatever spiritual practices we are drawn to, this dynamic must be present for them to be authentic.  In a similar way social action must be rooted in this love.

It is, then, the ‘heart’ that is fundamental and what is contained in the heart – how it ‘inclines’ and on what it is fixed.  Yet the heart is full of contradictions, of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ and it has always been the realm of religion to remind us of the need to ‘Know thyself’.  All true spiritualty is rooted in this quest which must not be separated from the desire for the Other through whose empathetic gaze we are redeemed and made whole.  This requires humility which, as the ‘Principles’ of the First Order of the Society of St. Francis state: Humility is the recognition of the truth about God and ourselves, the recognition of our own insufficiency and dependence, seeing that we have nothing which we have not received. It is the mother of all Christian virtues. As Saint Bernard of Clairvaux has said, No spiritual house can stand for a moment save on the foundation of humility. (Day 25)

The First Epistle of St. John points out: ‘If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.’  To understand the value of an-other (in whatever way one wants to understand that term) one need only reflect on the fact that it is the Other who helps me understand myself, my desires, impulses, sins, failings, desires and so on and how these draw or drive me and how they can help in my redemption.  I need my brother (sister/an-other) if I am to be whole.

For me, therefore, the desire to develop a spiritual life is intimately connected with my own wholeness which, in turn, can only be realised in communion with an-other.  And all this is focussed in the ‘heart-space’.  Indeed, the ‘work’ of spirituality is as simple as desiring for it to be emptied of everything apart from that love for an-other, to be a desert place of encounter, my solitary cell which welcomes the other for it is being swept clean to make space to welcome that Divine guest in whose loving, empathetic gaze I am made whole.

RIOTS and a change of heart

Last week, in light of the events that were taking place on some of our streets in some of our cities I posed the question ‘Why?’ on ‘Facebook’. Why did a significant minority of young (and, it seems, not always so young) people take to the streets in a frenzy of violence and looting.

Why did the police, at times, seem almost powerless to stop them? Why did parts of our cities become something akin to war zones with gangs seemingly in control? In the face of such outrageous behaviour we are left with that simple question: why? And, from the responses I received to that question it is clear these events have generated strong reactions – reactions which I find myself sharing. I am aware that I have responded vigorously to scenes of looting, burning and terror on the streets: ‘Why can’t the police use more force?’ ‘Let’s bring the army in!’ ‘Punish not just the children (for that, it would seem, is what many are) but the parents!’ ‘Have we ‘spared the rod and spoilt the child’?’

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth!

And then I have wondered at the wider picture. We live in a society that has become detached from faith in God and become obsessed by materialism. We are swamped by advertising that appeals to our envy, that makes us want more things that many can’t (and might never) afford. The very wealthy get richer whilst others suffer or are faced by deep cuts and a lack of prospects. And violence, whether to persons or property, seems increasingly accepted as part of our TV, music, computer and internet-fed culture. Like many, I am left confused and uncertain as to how all this might be changed, and whether we even have the desire to change it.

And if I dig a bit deeper I find myself wondering with concern if, as someone wrote: ‘Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural. It is a whim of circumstance. And barbarism must always ultimately triumph.’ (Robert E. Howard, ‘Beyond the Black River’). But one thing is clear. We all have opinions as to the causes of these events and the solutions. And, as far as opinions are concerned, I take note of a quote from Abraham Lincoln: ‘Public opinion, though often formed upon a wrong basis, yet generally has a strong underlying sense of justice’

So I try to take a step back from the welter of opinions I am subject to and remember that, if I want to understand how best (and we can only do our best, whatever our response, it will never be perfect) to respond I need, as a person of faith, to stand in the desire of God.

Now it’s clear that societies have always struggled with lawlessness. In Matthew's gospel he reflected on the situation his community faced in the mid-1st cent. and wrote: ‘because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved. And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations; and then the end will come.’ (Matt. 24:12-14)

The maintenance of law and order was (and, of course, still is) the mark of a secure society. Whether that society was civilised is another matter – I am sure there was law and order in Nazi Germany – and the breakdown of law and order was seen as heralding the end-times. That’s a theme we find both in the Old and New Testaments and is the stuff of fundamentalists – and to be avoided! So I find myself reflecting on the question – apart from the law, what holds us together? What are the essential elements of a civilised society? Well, clearly they are multifarious. At present we might be aware of the importance of law and order but think further and one might recognise that justice, rather than vengeance, is essential. For Christians and Jews the ‘Ten Commandments’ might seem basic, for they cover respect for persons and property. But we might also recall that these are dependent on the lynchpin of belief in, and respect for, the ultimate authority of God.

But we also know that once you introduce Laws people will find a way to break them. So I also recall that when Jesus was asked his opinion as to what Law was most important, he observed that “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ (Matt. 22: 37-40)  Just before that Jesus had reflected on the causes of some of the problems in his society and said this: “out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person…” (Matt. 15: 19/20)

The crisis that erupted in our midst last week is, I believe, one that comes from the heart. That is my opinion and I am ready for it to be challenged!  But what I have learnt over the years is that we are governed by what the heart is set upon, both individually and as a society.  Each of us is filled with a mixture of emotions, desires, feelings, passions which are the most powerful forces we experience inside of us. And under the power of these we can perform the most heroic acts or do the most violent things. So each of us needs to ask the question, on what is my heart set?  The acquisition of more and more ‘stuff’; the desire to satisfy our base cravings; the lure of riches or celebrity: none of these will, in the end, satisfy our deepest desires for these can only be satisfied by God, the source of all good. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.”

That’s why this is the first and greatest commandment and its dependent on the belief of God as the greatest good. That which will fulfil the deepest desires of our heat. So I might ask myself – what, in my life, does that for me? What to I seek to fulfil my deepest needs? The latest computer game, holiday in Florida or acquisition of an i-phone might satisfy us to an extent but do they satisfy our deeper hunger?  On what is the heart set? To seek the good of others; to value ourselves and delight in our inner beauty and fundamental goodness: to be open to love and be loved – these are the means whereby we will satisfy our deepest needs.

But, so often, these are not what we are told we need. Satisfying the self comes before the needs of others; beauty is to be found at a price and we are lured by the temptation to condemn the other. The enemy of the good is always present, whether we call that the devil or evil or Satan, the ancient name for that which opposes and obstructs the call to goodness. To God.

The lawlessness which erupted on the streets of our towns and cities last week is always present and no revision of our laws or increase in the number of police on our streets, no longer prison sentences or re-introduction of the death penalty will, in the end, prevent it erupting again. Only a change of heart for us as individuals and as a society will do that. That’s called conversion and its something basic to our faith and something that needs to happen every day. On what is my heart set? To what does it incline? To the goodness of God or self-satisfaction? There is no doubt that when the heart is set on its own gratification then it can easily be led astray. But a heart inclined to God will always find itself recalled to seek fulfilment in reaching out to the Other with that same mercy, love and justice it seeks.

There is a restlessness in society. There will always be. But that restlessness, as St. Augustine reminded us, is because God has made us to live in union with Him and the restlessness in us is, in the end, wont be satisfied by ‘stuff’ or status, by power or achievement, but by at-one-ness with Him.