Mary van Balen

"...Soul, self, come, poor Jackself, I do advise/
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile/
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size/
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile/
's not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather - as skies/
Betweenpie mountains - lights a lovely mile."
from Gerard Manley Hopkins - poem 46


This morning a line from Psalm 3 found a place in me. A simple line, "I lie down, I sleep and I wake, for the Lord upholds me."

Surely nothing special. In the midst of danger and trial, the psalmist goes on, knowing the Holy One sustains him. The ordinariness of the line is what stayed with me. Not only through achievement or great effort, but also through the quotidian routines of life, God is Emanuel: With Us. And not begrudgingly, but offering Grace.

A friend mentioned Hopkins' poem 46 to me the other day, and I came home, took out my "Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poems and Prose" Seleted and edited by W.H. Gardner," and read it a few times, letting the words linger. Hopkins' brilliant juxtaposition of words and created words delight and reach deep.

In my January 13 column, The World Is Great With God, I mention the human tendency to be hardest on ourselves, missing the Divine Presence in and around us, focusing instead on self and shortcomings. Hopkins poem was written at a dark time in his life and reflects his recognition of the need for self compassion.

Poem 46 begins, "My own heart let me more have pity of; let/ Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,/Charitable; not live this tormented mind/With this tormented mind tormenting yet..."

Letting our thoughts go elsewhere refreshes and enspirits. A daughter working on her PhD dissertation takes time out to spend an evening with a friend going to exercise classes and eat tacos at their favorite local Mexican restaurant. This morning, before tackling other chores and attempting a nap before two overnight shifts at the department store taking inventory, I allowed myself time to play with poetry and paint. Read More 

PHOTO: unknown
Death was not God’s doing, he takes no pleasure in the extinction of the living. To be – for this he created all; the world’s created things have health in them, in them no fatal poison can be found, and Hades holds no power on earth; for virtue is undying. Wisdom 1:13-15

Taken from today's afternoon reading (None)

Yesterday, I shoveled the driveway twice. After working from one end to the other, I looked toward the garage where I had started and saw already another inch had accumulated there. Snow stopped sometime during the night and this morning the white stuff is sparkling under bright sunlight. Even the streets are white, an indication of temperatures too cold for salt to do its work.

Perhaps this verse from Wisdom was more striking being read in the midst of winter. The words made me think of lush spring and early summer when blooms stand atop thick green stems that snap and ooze sappy juice if they are broken. Creation is "juicy" with what sustains it flowing through xylem and phloem, arteries and veins.

And spirit. Or soul. Or whatever we name that which holds the Divine spark that animates us and feeds our deepest selves. Read More 

I love teaching, even a late class after a night of no sleep. I drag myself out of bed in the morning and wonder how I will ever teach a three and a half hour evening class, but teaching energizes me, and teaching the first of eight classes on "Sacraments" to thirty-some students was exhilarating. I have written a column for over twenty years sharing my experiences in the hope of encouraging others to experience the Sacred in the midst of and through life's quotidian activities. Tonight's class allowed me to share my wonder at the reality of God's Loving Presence constantly poured out on all that is and my conviction of the importance of taking time to be mindful of it.

In many of my classes, I use videos by Fr. Michael Himes, theology professor at Boston College, to add variety to a long evening and to give my students the opportunity to hear the material from another point of view. I am never disappointed and tonight was no different.

After we explored the idea of sacrament in its broadest sense and discussed the fact that everything can be a sacrament, an opportunity of encountering God, I popped in the video on "Grace." Students listened, took notes, and nodded as something Fr. Himes said connected with something in their lives.

When the lights were back on students offered their comments. One felt affirmed in her conviction that quiet times by herself could be times of encountering the Sacred. Someone else was struck by Fr. Himes' statement that Catholic Tradition "could be called a training in becoming sacramental beholders."

"What was the Principle of Sacramentality that he talked about?" a student asked.

"That which is always and everywhere true must be noticed, accepted and celebrated somewhere, sometime," Father Himes had said. "If God is everywhere, somewhere we have to stop and notice...If God is with us at all times...we set aside sometime to notice."

"We don't meet God in the past," I said. "We don't meet God in the future. We encounter God in the present, but being present to the moment can be difficult."

"Yes," said another student. She mentioned Fr. Himes' reference to Gerard Manley Hopkins who had been walking home one evening in Wales, worried about the coming winter and grieving the end of summer. He was so preoccupied with the past and future that he was unable to appreciate the wonder of the moment. The experience gave rise to one of his most quoted lines of poetry from "Hurrahing in Harvest": "These things, these things were here and but the beholder/Wanting;"

We are called to be "beholders," to slow down and recognize Divine Presence that is everywhere and always; to "take off our shoes" because "...Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God..." as another poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, wrote in her poem, "Aurora Leigh."

Thorton Wilder got it right in his play, "Our Town" when the character Emily, returned from the dead to relive one day of her life, could no longer bear the exquisite beauty of every moment. She was distraught by the living who seemed to have no appreciation of the glory of life:

"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it--every,every minute?
Stage Manager: No. (pause) The saints and poets, maybe they do some."

I read that line for the first time when I was a sophomore in high school, and resolved at that moment to become either a saint or a poet so I would not pass through life unaware of the Grace that enveloped us all.

Well, I have not become either, yet...But I try. and tonight, filled to overflowing with God's gift of self in the students, the conversation, the warmth and wisdom of Fr. Himes, the poets and people who had become part of the evening, I decided to celebrate: I stopped by the pizza shop at the end of my street, bought the best pizza in town, and shared it with my brother when I got home. It was the Sacramental Principle, after all. Read More