Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
I know the plans I have in mind for you – it is the Lord who speaks – plans for peace, not disaster, reserving a future full of hope for you. When you seek me you shall find me, when you seek me with all your heart. (from Mid-morning reading, Terce - Jeremiah 29:11,13)

Today's readings continue to bathe us in hope, or more accurately, reason to hope. The first reading from the Mass is Isaiah 29:17-24. Verse after verse declares freedom from oppression "for the tyrant shall be no more..." In these lines the blind see, the deaf hear, and "the meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord."

When most news we read today is filled with accounts of war, suffering, and injustice, Isaiah's words bring relief. I read them over and over, silently and out loud, and they were like cool water sliding down a parched throat. They allowed me to hope and to believe that hope for the poor and hurting in our world was possible. Not only possible, but sure. Not an empty promise but a reality whose time would come.
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PHOTO: Mary van Balen
"On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food...And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples...Then the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces...Let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation for the hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain." Is 25:6a,7a,8a9b.10 (from today;s Mass readings)

Both the first reading and the gospel from today's Mass present a warm and compelling picture of our God. Everything about the two accounts pulls us toward the Lord who is generous beyond anything we have experienced. I read these passages and think: "I want to be there." This God is irresistible. Read More 

Painting: The Good Samaritan by Asian Artist He Qi
"Good energy," as my sister-in-law would say, has a life of its own, and last night it kept nine members of the spirituality group laughing and talking even after we had left the dinner table. Having moved into the living room, we presented a challenge to Noreen, the one who was charged with leading the unruly bunch in prayer and reflection.

I looked around the room and silently gave thanks for each person. We have been gathering once a month for seven years, committed to companioning one another as we move through life's joys and sorrows. Years ago we christened our gathering place "Sabbath House" because it provided a safe place of rest, renewal, and prayer, things I crave these days as I scrabble through a particularly thorny patch. Read More 

MEMORIAL BRONZE SCULPTURE BY CONNIE BUTLER

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool called, in Hebrew Bethzatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many --blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thrity-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me."
Jn 5, 2-8


Jesus must have been puzzled by a man who had been lying by the water for thirty-eight years. "Do you want to be made well?" was an appropriate question. One might think the man was too lazy to hurry to the water, or maybe enjoyed his plight. Someone must have been bringing him food and water to survive for years. Perhaps he liked not having to work or care for himself.

His answer was none of the above, and it made me stop. "I have no one to put me into the pool..." He had no one to help. Jesus took care of that with a word. He had no need of the water; his word had the power to heal.

I think of so many people in our world "lying in the portico" like those suffering from the earthquakes in Haiti or from famine in those in Africa enduring famine. In our own country, many people suffer from lack of affordable or available healthcare. They have no one to help. As St. Theresa of Avila said, we must be the hands and heart of Jesus in this world.

Those suffering tell us they have no one to help.

What will we do?
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THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL SON: Rembrandt van Rijn

Out of the depths I call to you, Lord;
Lord, hear my cry!
May your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
If you, Lord, mark our sins,
Lord, who can stand?
But with you is forgiveness
and so you are revered.
For with the Lord is kindness,
with him is full redemption.
Psalm 130, 1-4; 7

Sometimes, looking back over my life, I become aware of my weaknesses, flaws, and sins. What have I done that has hurt others? How much time have I wasted? How many opportunities have I squandered? How many times have I withheld gifts, given by God for the good of all? Was I shy? Intimidated? Lazy?

I can be harder on myself than I am on others, reluctant to show myself the same compassion I extend to them. If I am aware of my failures, how many more must the Creator see?

The comfort of this Psalm lies in its image of Holy One. Though on my own, I am unable to become who I am made to be, God does not dwell on my weakness, but instead looks at me with love and forgiveness. Like the Father welcoming the prodigal son, God sees me with joy and wraps me in a loving embrace. Like a parent who looks at her child and sees deeper than appearances, knowing the heart that is momentarily shrouded in hurt and anger, God looks past my imperfect self and sees the spark of divinity that dwells in my soul, just as God intended.

Compassionate One who welcomes me, who welcomes all, help me to accept your love and to share it freely with others, seeing not their faults but their hearts which you have made.
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