Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Bitter Words


Bitter Words


Bitter Words


29 September 2015

Boadilla del Camino

Bitter Words

Today had a brutal start only to be followed by the level and easy[RW1]  Mesata, the high plateau.  The approach to the hill was intimidating and one that I approached with both gratitude and intimidation.  I was grateful that this was the only steep breath stealer for the day and I’d have it done with right away. The very sight of how steep and how long the approach was intimidated. I was rewarded with a stunning view of the countryside below with the sunrise just breaking over the hills.  It was so beautiful.

 I walked along and reconnected with a lady and later her friend from Brazil who are work companions.  They work as independent counselors and staff development resources for companies and for individuals seeking outside advice.  In a matters of a few steps we discovered the commonalities of our work worlds.  We were counselors sharing the treasures of our education’s insights and swapping stories of how counseling theories and practices helped us to help others.  It was all shop talk.

More of the discussion centered around the dysfunction that paralyzes people due to unforgiveness.  It was a stimulating conversation because we felt the pain and dilemma in some many people we wanted to help move on with life, but were self-imprisoned by their own unwillingness or inability to forgive an offense. It is a common human tendency to hold on to grudges, hurts, and offenses. True?

During a long silence of just one foot in front of the other, I came to recall my own struggles with withholding forgiveness. For today’s walk it was over some events in my life when I was the offender. The memories brought a strong sense of regret for my part in the offense. This was most painfully true when I recalled some of the comments I’ve made that bring a great deal of embarrassment and regret. Here is a short anecdote that came alive from a childhood memory that illustrates my reflection today. Stay with me while I digress a bit.

I was a little guy playing in a vacant lot near our home on a spring day. Herds of kids ran and played. I recall this one little girl stopping me and said that they were picking dandelions, would I like to join them. I did and before long we had a mitt full of the butter-yellow beauties. Then she offered one of the “Dare ya” offers that soon escalated into one of those “Double dog dare ya” challenges. It was a powerful challenge for a weak mind. She said straight faced, “I Double dog dare ya you won’t eat a dandelion.” 

I stared at the tender beauties and thought, what could be the harm, after all, they look pretty.  I popped one in my mouth and started chewing it like Bazzoka bubble gum.  I’m not sure which was more bitter, it’s taste or that little girl’s delighted smurk. I spat the weed out and ran home for a Colgate scrub. The taste of that moment is still vivid in my memory nearly 60 years later. I learned what a bitter taste and aftertaste dandelion juice is. 

Today while walking and talking about the topic of untying the knot of unforgiveness, I came to recall, in particular, bitter words I have spoken to others.  There were a few vivid memories of words and comments I remember making that must have really hurt the person to whom I directed them.  I could try to soften the effects by salving my conscience with thoughts like, “But I was overworked that day” or “I was angry because. . .” or “They had it coming because of the attitude they were giving.” This and many other “good excuses” tried to soften truth that what I said was wrong[RW2] , they were hurtful words, they were fiercely judgmental and sometimes spoken from an overinflated ego.  Recalling the words in those incidents was like tasting that dandelion again.  They were and are bitter words.

Perhaps you may have an incident in your past that you would rather eat your words than to have uttered them.  Worse yet, the words may have been spoken to your spouse, one of your children, a sibling, or close friend. Far more painful, maybe the bitter words were spoken to one of your parents. I have a few really dumb comments I recall having spoken to my mom that, as an adult, have such a bitter aftertaste and I so wish I had the second chance to eat, even if as bitter as a dandelion.

We recall the childhood poem, “Sticks and stones can break my bones,” True. But the second verse should read, “But names, and words, CAN REALLY hurt me.” Words and name calling resurface in adult memories many years later.  I have heard many share their heartache from something as simple, yet powerful, as words spoken even decades ago. 

In James 3 he writes, “We can tame every kind of beast, but no human can tame the human tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Father in heaven and curse humans who are made in the likeness of God.”

I took particular notice of this challenge to my spiritual focus today.  How disciplined is my tongue? Are there some bitter words for which I need to seek that person’s forgiveness?  How humbling and loving that effort would be?! Going back to a person and saying, “I have a recollection of a stupid comment I made to you, and as I thought of it, I’ve come to deeply regret it. I’d like to ask your forgiveness for it.”

I have a few on my list of unfinished reconciling I need to make right. Will it be difficult? Uncomfortable? Humbling? Create some anxiety? Yes, and yes, and yes, and yes. Is it a behavior of one trying to grow in holiness. Oh yes.  Will the effort please God? Amen, amen. Is there opportunity to bring healing? More than we could ever imagine.  Bitter names, and words, do hurt and for many recalling them brings a deep sting of heartache.

We can be agents of healing injured life memories. We start by recalling some of those thoughtless comments, go in humility to the one we’ve offended, and say the words, “Please forgive me.” We must actually say the words.  For those very words, spoken genuinely and contritely, act like Listerine for the bitter words. This sets us free. The offended has the freedom to choose, but that’s their decision. We will have opened the door to reconciling.

Therein lies my “Double dog dare” for us: Watching our language more carefully and refreshing some of the foul odor of past comments.

“May our good Lord keep his arm around my shoulder and his hand over my mouth.”

In His love,

Deacon Willie, DW












Monday, September 28, 2015

Yoke 101


Yoke 101


28 September 2015

Castrojariez

Yoke 101

Today was a delightful walk. It was just 20km in cool, comfortable weather with just one stiff climb of 150m.  My knee still aches, but it was blister problems again. My second toe, “The little piggy that went home,” developed a blister and swelling that nearly doubled the size of the toe.  It was a tender bag of bright red fluid.  A kind couple from France lent me some assistance and supplies.  Lancing, ointment, and bandages should prepare me for a strenuous climb first thing in the morning.

My reflection today was a familiar one, Matthew 11:28-30. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart: and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

A common attention in this scripture is to the image of a “yoke.”  It is easy to imagine an oxen yoke, but one that is easy? I did learn at one time that a farmer will use mud to create a cast of the oxen’s shoulders so that he can cast it to fit perfectly to that oxen’s form.  The burden would be easier to manage because the burden is perfectly fitted to its shoulders.  Perhaps our burdens are fitted to our exact capacity as well?

The again, what I spent more time contemplating is a piece of Hebrew background.  The teachings of a particular Rabbi will include his added interpretations, or “yoke” of the scripture. Such as in this example, “Love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul, and with all of your being.” Rabbi Rabiniwisz’s “yoke” may add that it includes doing what he adds as his list of must do’s. Rabbi Shabac’s “yoke” might agree in part but add his list of another four must do’s.  Before long, the expectations of a single line in scripture grows and grows into such a monstrous load.

Jesus’ message is a relief. For his “yoke,” is easy.  Some scripture scholars propose that the entire bible could be distilled into just two words: love and mercy. Easy. I’ve contemplated this proposal and it rings true in my reflections of every story and message in the scripture stories from Genesis to Revelation.  Each one illustrates an essential element in God’s DNA: love and mercy. His “yoke” is easy when our relationship with Him is viewed through that lense.

This Rabbi Jesus is unlike other teachers.  There is no long list of expectations. There is no power of knowledge over you. He exudes a gentle authority born of meek and humble love.  The heavy burdened are those He wishes to teach how to be powerful in meekness and humility.  His “yoke” speaks of selling all to the poor, go and sin no more, are you not more valuable than the sparrow. Power is a silent dynamic force of surrender to a Father that knows what good things to give to his children. We become the lost lamb that the good shepherd searches and brings back on his shoulders while rejoicing over finding it.

Rabbi Jesus’ “yoke” is wrapped in the stories and images of the mighty power of meekness and humility. And the good news is that living His “yoke” brings rest to the burdened.  If I am restless, perhaps it is because I’m wrapped in matters outside of true meekness and humility.

Rest. The knowledge gained from Yoke 101 brings rest.

The imagination of this course rambled through my thoughts today.  They also played out in a recent experience on the Camino.  The night before I rejoined a few who I met at the communal albergue in Burgos, the one with the prayer service.  A delightfully friendly and deeply spiritual young lady, Winnie, had cooked food at our albergue using pots and pans from the albergue across the street where she and the others were staying.  She found our group and made a pleasant offer, almost plea, for us to follow her back where they had cooked enough food for all four of us. What a blessing to have a home cooked, yummy meal like a big Camino family. We chatted, told fun stories, unpacked new stories our lives, and did the cleanup.

I offered to help carry the pots and pans back to the kitchen of the albergue where she borrowed them. That is when a full blown drama erupted. The owners of the albergue, in mass, confronted Winne. It was a family owned operation and all of the members, husband/wife, grandparents, siblings, etc. had a piece of their mind to share, a very livid, angry piece. Winnie stood in a complete dumbfounded stupor over their fury. My hillbilly Spanish made out the source of their irritation. When people use their utensils to cook, especially for others, it removes meal orders from their little restaurant. Less orders and less sales means less income for them to care for their family. The borrowing of their utensils was seen as a threat to their way of living.

I understood more the passion behind their shouts, whereas Winnie only saw and felt their intense anger.  What of Jesus’ “Yoke” could I apply here?  This was the best I could imagine to do. I stepped between the impassioned Spanish clan and Winne and offered repeated soft and gentle comments, “Si, si, Senora. Yo comprendo.  Yo comprendo la problemas. Los siento. Muy siento.”

At first it didn’t matter. Each member felt a need to express their reason for anger. What I read of the situation is that they each needed to be understood. They needed for us to really feel the depth of reasoning why they were offended.

There is a love language of an apology, and I’ve learned that just a quick, “Sorry,” not only further angers and hurts the offended, but it ignites long lasting bitterness. The love language to the apology I used was to try to express that I understood how the act of using their utensils was wrong and the threat it was to their family’s income.  Adding all the body language and humility I could express, I turned right to the most offended, fuming-mad woman right in the eye and said in soft, humble sincerity, “Lo siento, Senora. Lo siento.”

Winnie stood just a step behind me solemn faced. Shortly thereafter, the emotions of all in the showdown vaporized bit by bit.  Thank God, I got it. These Spaniards work from before sunup to prepare simple pilgrim breakfasts.  They clean up after they leave, check a new troop in by late morning, then serve meals and drinks until late into the evening. Then they clean up and bring in new supplies into the evening. Their kids play games and run around the albergue lost in the hustle of their parents frantically trying to run the business. There is no time for family time. These pilgrim hosts were those who “labor and are heavy burdened.” Lacking this insight, it could have been a “What’s the big deal?!” reaction on our part. Gratefully this attitude did not surface.  For I witnessed the progression of a burdened soul to meekness to then to the gift of rest.  It was the courageous baby step from a lesson in Yoke 101.

What we can ask of ourselves are these questions. 

Who do I know who is heavily burdened? Are they overloaded with work?

What part of their burden can I offer to carry? And not this kind of offer, “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” NO! Say, “Let me do this for you. . . . .” Be proactive and operate outside of the comfort zone.  People don’t want to impose by asking for help, but they are overwhelmed by act of generous time and sacrificial efforts.

What language of meekness and humility can I practice in my conversations? Perhaps you find yourself in one of those surprising moments when a gentle response is one you’re grabbing for. Consider a meek and humble response in advance like one would prepare a special prayer. 

Am I at rest or restless with myself?  Contemplate becoming more like a little child at rest in his momma’s gentle tuck or his daddy’s big strong arms. Rest is the gift of growing more unburdened.

His “yoke” is easy. Perhaps we make it so heavy.

In His grip,

Deacon Willie, DW

 

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Jesus' Playlist Favorites


Jesus' Playlist Favorites


27 September 2015

Hornillas del Camino

Jesus’ Playlist Favorites

I looked forward to an extra day of rest in Burgos to help with my howling knee pain. However, pilgrims cannot stay in the same albergue two nights in a row.  You store your pack and wait until noon and dash to a new line waiting to get registered.  Unfortunately, the nearby one was booked in minutes.  I was anxious and discouraged because this meant that I must follow a town map with so many streets on it that the map looked like a bowl of spaghetti, not a good match for me. In addition, my next nearest one was just under 2km outside of town.  Ugh!

I made request after request for directions using my hillbilly Spanish and arrived at might be the best albergue experience of my whole trip.  It was at a church that made the stay a communal experience of just 17 pilgrims.  We went to mass, made dinner together, shared in the cleanup, and had a group prayer service before bedtime. The young seminarian had us sit in a lounge area, light a candle, and played some reverent instrumental music as we sat in silence reflecting upon our day.  Then he had several of us read prayers, psalms, and spiritual poems in our own native tongue.  It was so moving. This was followed by an open sharing of the special insights we have received while on the Camino.  It was one “Godcidence” after another. I felt a sadness leaving there this morning.

The walk today was the start of the Camino’s famed Mesata, a high plateau of somewhat undulating flatland. Many don’t particularly like the Mesata, I especially do. I can walk without worry of sliding down a hillside of rock or the painful strain of a steep ascent. With a greater sense of safety, I so easily get lost in some imaginative head time.

Here is when my imagination drifted. If Jesus had an I Pod, what would be on his playlist? What might be His favorites?  It captivated my imagination. What might you imagine would be Jesus’ favorite songs?

Here are a few that I sang to Him in my Faith Walk today.

 

Eagle’s Wings

His Eye Is on the Sparrow, and I Know He’s Watching Me

You Raise Me Up

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

How Great Thou Are

Amazing Grace

Ave Maria

Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow

Gregorian Chants, any and all

Awesome God

Love Without End, Amen (couldn’t resist)

Sing Your Praise to the Lord

Holy God We Praise Thy Name

 

I could go on and on with this list, but it was entertaining considering music that would please Him.  Our earthly hymns attempt to give appropriate praise and express love for Him. The melody may lift us, but the lyrics move us to follow Him more nearly, serve Him more clearly, and love Him more dearly.

It was a simple yet captivating reflection today.  It was done with the utmost respect and love for our Savior. The list is inexhaustible, but in truth, entirely unnecessary. The Trinity is exhaulted by the heavenly hosts moment by moment high above the heavens.

That is a playlist I long to hear. It is there that I hope to raise my voice in love and praise of Him.

Fondly,

Deacon Willie

Friday, September 25, 2015

He Knows Our Pain


He Knows Our Pain


25 September 2015

Burgos

He Knows Our Pain

I had a choice to make. It was to take the next 24km walk up to San Juan de Ortega would involve a 450m climb, another Willis Tower height, or to taxi past it to one of Europe’s oldest archeological sites with remains dating back 900,000 years.  You guessed right. The taxi dropped me off at Atapuerca. However, the site did not open for several hours.  I learned that artifacts of the site could be viewed in Burgos, so I moved on for a 24km walk. 

All the way my rather painful knee developed into a howling pain.  I limped along, gave it rests, and stretched for some relief.  I’ve come to believe that my body is now rebelling from all the exertion.  All along this painful walk today I decided to offer up my pains especially for those who asked me to pray for a physical ailment from which they are suffering.

It is quite a thing to pray for yourself when you’re suffering. It is a far richer experience to prayerfully hold the pain of others you care deeply about who are in pain.  These are some of the challenges dear ones face that requested prayers: cancer, dementia, chronic migraines, diabetes, surgery recovery, spinal pain, infertility, depression, severe arthritis, kidney disease, heart condition, back pain, and anemia. It was a list of heavy health issues that people dear to me carry as a life burden. With each painful step and climb I held the image of the person and their pain in my mind’s eye.  “For you, Lord. For you, Lord.” 

We all have or will face health issues.  I walked with that reality today.  But it gave me some relief that I could join my pain with those who are also suffering.  Why? Because He knows our pain. 

The compassion of Christ was intimate with the crippled, the lame, the deaf, the blind, the bleeding, those suffering from demon possession, the diseased, the paralyzed, and the suffering.  I came to imagine the scripture scenes where there was someone so deeply pained with one of these afflictions.  All other people in the scene may have been numb to their suffering, but not Jesus.  He was attentive to the suffering and offered what the Father gave Him to share, a divine love that spilled over into healing. 

We can believe that Jesus knows our pain as well because He embraced these pains in his ministry. Rest assured, He hears our whimpers of pain. He feels our tears of suffering. He has touched the wounds of unthinkable pain. The scriptures attest to these. 

He fully knows our pain also because He suffered a tormenting death as a love offering for us.  I have attached a photo of a sculpture that graphically illustrates Christ on the cross. It was on display at the Cathedral of Santo Domingo in the art museum there. My memory of it replayed in me in full HD color all day during my strained walk.

I share it with you.  Take a strong and long look at the image of Christ’s physical suffering. Take a close look at Jesus’ knees.  I was humbled to know full well that He knew my knee pain. And what about our pains of the past?  Present pains? And rest assured, even our future pains? He knows all our pains.

Even in our suffering we can trust in His care, because He knows.

Deacon Willie, DW

 

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Double Blindsided by Grace


Double Blindsided by Grace


24 September 2015

Belorado

Double Blindsided by Grace

It was a pleasant walk through the countryside today.  Undulating hills and flatlands alongside of farm fields tilled to raw earth in preparation for a planting hibernation.  The earthy patchwork of fields even provided interest as it stretched far off toward the mountains.  Gratefully the sun stayed hidden in the clouds making most of the walk cool and so enjoyable.  Even my barking right knee endured without the anti-inflammatory help.  The blisters are still red hot and making each step rather gingerly taken.  I need rest considering that I’ve hiked about 170 miles thus far, roughly 30% of the pilgrimage.

I am well aware that the Camino is recognized in three distinct stages of experience.  I’ve read this and can claim it was true of my first Camino.  The first third is physical, the second third is emotional, and the final third is spiritual.  I am still coping with the physical aspect. It is all too logical that an emotional element occurs after so much strenuous and fatiguing stress to the body.  My little emotional challenge came over what you might call a stupid, little, water bottle.

When I was in Medjugorie I picked up a bottle of water with a Croatian name across it.  It fits perfectly in the side pocket of my hiking pants and has accompanied me to all the holy shrines.  Because it is written in the language of the land where our Lady appears, it held a novel endearment to me. Yep, a simple water bottle became a treasured reminder of my time there.

Sometime during a short rest stop in a local village today, I forgot it on a picnic table.  It was several kilometers before I realized where I must have left it.  Yep, it’s dumb and it’s only a plastic water bottle, but I had such high hopes of carrying it to Fatima with me to fill with holy water to bring back home. This meaningless water bottle was now gone.  I was both illogically disappointed in losing it and upset with myself for not being able to dismiss such a trivial thing. But things hit pilgrims is crazy ways on the Camino. 

I dismissed the loss and trudged on now during the heat of Spain’s bright sun.  An hour later and I had more reason to miss my water bottle.  I was growing painfully parched.  Another hour of steep climbs and descents and I was concerned about being dehydrated. 

I offered the sacrifice up in prayer. “Lord, that dumb water bottle is gone. I accept it. But I have no water and I’m hurting. Please help me.”  I continued on now painfully thirsty when a surprise arrived.  Unheard of on the Camino, a small minivan rode on the narrow walking trail. In it were two men who pulled up to me and handed me a new bottle of very cold water.  They were driving along looking for pilgrims to invite to their new albergue in the town ahead. I am convinced God heard my prayer and answered it in not only a timely way, but in a shocking way: a minivan on the Camino?! That’s not supposed to happen.

This blessing invigorated me and the thirst fears subsided. Ok, I won’t have my special water bottle to fill in Fatima, but I have a new story of grace to share. This gave me a new and grateful outlook.  As I continued I arrived at another little village.  As relief from the hot sun, I took another pause at a picnic table in the village square for a final breather before the last strong push before my final destination for the day.

While resting there a man from Canada saunters up.  He approached me with these words, “I saw that you left a water bottle back there and I picked it up. I have it here for you. I thought you might like to have it back. And I refilled it for you.” Imagine the chilling Godcidence realization that coursed through me!  I thanked the man abundantly and explained some of the history of places this plastic companion has had on my pilgrimage. Then even more surprisingly he extended his water bottle to me and said, “Drink from my bottle as a token of friendship.” The offer came in humility and sincerity. I drank and in an uncanny way I felt a power of the Holy Spirit in that simple gesture of kindness.

God chose to use a silly water bottle as a vehicle to double blindside me by His grace.

God can make old things new, and He graciously did that for me today.  I/We need only to be open to receive it in unimaginable ways.

“Like a deer that thirsts for running streams, so my soul yearns for you my Lord.”

Peace, love, and joy

Deacon Willie, DW

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Voice Lessons


Voice Lessons


23 September 2015

Santo Domingo de la Calzada

Voice Lessons

Today was but a short 16km walk. Most of the walk was a gradual incline until we reached a brutal incline much like trying to climb a ski slope.  It was about a 20 degree slope for over 5km.  Many stops and breathers were needed.  My crabby right knee is managing, but my blisters are crying out on the same toes.  God be merciful.

Upon reaching the top of the climb I was rewarded with a rare sight. There on a rolling plateau was a large green pasture. Surprisingly there was a shepherd herding his sheep. He calmly and deliberately plodded along with his sheep following. I spent some time just observing the whole process of shepherding.  There were several hundred sheep up on the short rise grazing. Their heads were fixed on the grass below while chomping ravenously and oblivious to the entire world around them.  The shepherd started walking toward the other end of the field toward the road and whole scene unfolded.

There were some sheep who were attentive to the shepherd’s movement, looked up intently and sheep galloped to keep up with him.  They stared up at the shepherd’s face as if to seek for any new clue of the shepherd’s direction.  As he walked, they followed in step with his.  There were some who missed the first clue and were looking around, and if I was to guess by their behavior, they were saying, “Hey, where did he go?”  Seeing that he shepherd and others had moved on, they scampered to get rejoined. What was particularly interesting is that the late arrivals maneuvered their way deep into the flock nearer and nearer to the shepherd.  Then there were those sheep who missed all the clues. They were far back and were lost in a self-indulgent gorging of themselves on one luscious green patch after another.  Their heads and eyes were fixated down at filling themselves with their own pleasure of filling themselves. 

I saw myself in the behaviors of all of these sheep at some time in my life. How about you?

The behavior of the shepherd was fascinating as well.  I recall that he moved in a deliberate and confident manner.  His every step matched the speed of the sheep, or was is the other way around? Nonetheless, they walked… together. He was at the head of the flock, but the sheep were not far behind. When he stopped, they immediately went back to grazing.   A quick glance around and the shepherd noticed some starting to trail behind. 

As he started to plod ahead he made a simple sound that alerted all the sheep. It was not a word as so much a sound he made, “Che Che!” a short, staccato sound like the word “cheek” but without the “k” sound.  For however weird that might mean to humans, it had a remarkable effect on the sheep. They all reacted like we would to the sound of a fire alarm.  Heads popped up, eyes searching for the shepherd, and an instantaneous obedience to follow.  A few more steps and a “Che Che Che!” and the entire flock moved along with their shepherd guiding them.  Every so often a few sheep would start to stray from alongside of him. He used his staff with a gentle tap and they returned to walk in obedient progression with him once again. There was an undeniable and loving relationship between the sheep and the shepherd.

I watched before my very eyes Jesus’ message in John’s gospel, “I know my sheep and my sheep know my voice.” Yes, it was an observation of Jesus’ “Voice Lesson.” It may never be a “Che Che!” sound He makes, but his voice will call us back to walk with him. And like those sheep today, his voice is distinct, it is confident, it is protective of us. My/Our challenge is to take a “Voice Lesson.”  That is, be attentive to his gentle voice calling out to us. 

Our challenge is to discriminate his voice from the voice of the world’s screaming for attention to worthless things. The world screams for frantic activity; his voice calls us to peace. The world screams for frenzied attention to what popular culture thinks: his voice calls us to scriptural truth. The world offers temporary stress relief in many forms, his voice calls us to hope in his promises.  The world allures us to temporary infatuations; his voice call us to a love beyond understanding.

“I know my sheep and my sheep know my voice.”  It was endearing message of the beauty of His voice, for me, for you.

Listen. Just listen, for His voice. It is near, I promise.

Fondly,

Deacon Willie, DW

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

From When to Then


From When to Then


22 September 2015

Azofra, just west of Najera

From “When” to “Then”

It’s a challenge of Wi-fi addicts on the Camino that there are villages with anemic signals. Such has been the case these past two days for me. I am still nursing a painful right knee and a brilliant red bulbous blister on the right toe, “This little piggy went home.” Both have some treatment and I’m managing. It was a first for me to leave Navarette before the sunrise. It was difficult walking in predawn light, but encouraging because it meant I was ahead of the hot afternoon sun. 

Forgive the old school teacher coming out of me today. What I share today is a long trail of personal reflection regarding two short lines in scripture.  It formed as a bit of a scripture contemplation focused upon 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. “I willing boast of my weaknesses that the power of Christ might be upon me. So I am content with weakness, insults, persecutions, distress, hardships, and troubles for the sake of Christ. For when I am weak it is then that I am strong.”

I began with a simple but difficult question. What are my weaknesses? So many came to mind but I made sense out of it by filtering my experiences through the 8 deadly sins. They are temptations born of being human. 

S              Sloth, how many times have I denied prayer time for my very important day’s schedule

L              Lust, it comes in many forms but it is also known as “Every man’s struggle.”

A             Anger, the psychology of which is a feeling come from loss. Loss of self-image, finances, prestige, power, position, near danger, etc.  How much energy have I wasted by imagined loss vs. real loss?

P             Pride. After all, it’s all about me. Right? Related as an 8th temptation-False Pride. That is a behavior represented in the gospel with the Pharisee’s comment in the temple, “Thank God I am not like this sinner. I tithe, pray” etc. A pride disguised in a holy outward appearance.

E              Envy, the unhealthy desire to be, look, have what another has.

G             Greed, the sin of more and more and more.

G             Gluttony, the sin of never being satisfied.

I learned the acronym, SLAPEGG, as an easy way to remember all of them.  The 8th one is attributed to St. Theresa of Avilla, I believe.  With a full breath of time to filter my life experiences through these 8 spiritually deadly human activities, I came to admit that they are present in my life. I came to recall how easily I get sidetracked into these tendencies.  Even wholesome pleasures can be exaggerated into something outside of the right proportions. Yes, even favorite foods or the treat that could bring about World Peace, a yummy bowl of ice cream, can be taken to extremes.  Any pleasure, gift, or good gift can be exaggerated into an unholy over attraction.  This I saw in myself today.

 But could I take the leap St. Paul suggests," I willingly ‘BOAST’ of my weaknesses. I/We boast of many good fortunes in life, in our successes, in our accomplishments, in those close to us who make us proud. But to boast of weaknesses? This does not come easily, nor naturally. When weakness is admitted for the sake of Christ, the admittance of it honors Him.  Otherwise, these 8 temptations are merely “the way things are, the way they always will be, they are the life-long plight of being human.”

Fighting them for the sake of Christ, makes them a battleground for growing in Him, in growing in His holiness, in falling more in love with Him. The battle is for the sake of Christ, indeed.

Then I came to the perplexing inspiration within the message: “So I am content with my weaknesses.” Really? Content with weaknesses? This almost sounds Un American. Yet it is what St. Paul is directing of us.  Nothing is more important than living in righteousness with a dependence of God’s love and mercy throughout every moment of life.  These troubling deadly 8 will plague us throughout the day. And we may fool ourselves as to believe that we are doomed to fall with each one. After all, “I’m just human.” True, be we can be and should strive to grow in holiness. Each temptation overcome brings a greater capacity for Christ’s presence to grow within us.

Just when I was putting this path to greater holiness in my thinking, the idea of a God bargain enlightened my thinking.  In the last line of this particular scripture has two phrases. The first part reads, “It is WHEN I am weak. So “when” am I weak? My examination of this within my life came with the answer, “Always.” I am always weak. I am always vulnerable for falling for these traps. The difference lies in me that I do not always admit my weakness to them.  I am weak only when I admit to God and call out to Him that I am weak. Outside of that, I move through my day confident, maybe over confident, in my independence.

And here is where the bargain presented itself. The last phrase in this scripture line reads, “It is ‘THEN’ that I am strong. Not God strong until I admit my weakness and dependence. Not God strong until I call upon His strength throughout my day. It is only then do I experience strength, His strength, living, loving, forgiving, wisely guiding my life.

This is our opportunity: To go from “WHEN” to “THEN.”  To go from humility to strength, human power to God power, from fear of being discovered for who I am to the power of knowing “whose” I am. All for the ‘sake of Christ.’

I’ll take the deal. How about you?

In His grip,

Deacon Willie, DW

 

From When to Then


22 September 2015

Azofra, just west of Najera

From “When” to “Then”

It’s a challenge of Wi-fi addicts on the Camino that there are villages with anemic signals. Such has been the case these past two days for me. I am still nursing a painful right knee and a brilliant red bulbous blister on the right toe, “This little piggy went home.” Both have some treatment and I’m managing. It was a first for me to leave Navarette before the sunrise. It was difficult walking in predawn light, but encouraging because it meant I was ahead of the hot afternoon sun. 

Forgive the old school teacher coming out of me today. What I share today is a long trail of personal reflection regarding two short lines in scripture.  It formed as a bit of a scripture contemplation focused upon 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. “I willing boast of my weaknesses that the power of Christ might be upon me. So I am content with weakness, insults, persecutions, distress, hardships, and troubles for the sake of Christ. For when I am weak it is then that I am strong.”

I began with a simple but difficult question. What are my weaknesses? So many came to mind but I made sense out of it by filtering my experiences through the 8 deadly sins. They are temptations born of being human. 

S              Sloth, how many times have I denied prayer time for my very important day’s schedule

L              Lust, it comes in many forms but it is also known as “Every man’s struggle.”

A             Anger, the psychology of which is a feeling come from loss. Loss of self-image, finances, prestige, power, position, near danger, etc.  How much energy have I wasted by imagined loss vs. real loss?

P             Pride. After all, it’s all about me. Right? Related as an 8th temptation-False Pride. That is a behavior represented in the gospel with the Pharisee’s comment in the temple, “Thank God I am not like this sinner. I tithe, pray” etc. A pride disguised in a holy outward appearance.

E              Envy, the unhealthy desire to be, look, have what another has.

G             Greed, the sin of more and more and more.

G             Gluttony, the sin of never being satisfied.

I learned the acronym, SLAPEGG, as an easy way to remember all of them.  The 8th one is attributed to St. Theresa of Avilla, I believe.  With a full breath of time to filter my life experiences through these 8 spiritually deadly human activities, I came to admit that they are present in my life. I came to recall how easily I get sidetracked into these tendencies.  Even wholesome pleasures can be exaggerated into something outside of the right proportions. Yes, even favorite foods or the treat that could bring about World Peace, a yummy bowl of ice cream, can be taken to extremes.  Any pleasure, gift, or good gift can be exaggerated into an unholy over attraction.  This I saw in myself today.

 But could I take the leap St. Paul suggests," I willingly ‘BOAST’ of my weaknesses. I/We boast of many good fortunes in life, in our successes, in our accomplishments, in those close to us who make us proud. But to boast of weaknesses? This does not come easily, nor naturally. When weakness is admitted for the sake of Christ, the admittance of it honors Him.  Otherwise, these 8 temptations are merely “the way things are, the way they always will be, they are the life-long plight of being human.”

Fighting them for the sake of Christ, makes them a battleground for growing in Him, in growing in His holiness, in falling more in love with Him. The battle is for the sake of Christ, indeed.

Then I came to the perplexing inspiration within the message: “So I am content with my weaknesses.” Really? Content with weaknesses? This almost sounds Un American. Yet it is what St. Paul is directing of us.  Nothing is more important than living in righteousness with a dependence of God’s love and mercy throughout every moment of life.  These troubling deadly 8 will plague us throughout the day. And we may fool ourselves as to believe that we are doomed to fall with each one. After all, “I’m just human.” True, be we can be and should strive to grow in holiness. Each temptation overcome brings a greater capacity for Christ’s presence to grow within us.

Just when I was putting this path to greater holiness in my thinking, the idea of a God bargain enlightened my thinking.  In the last line of this particular scripture has two phrases. The first part reads, “It is WHEN I am weak. So “when” am I weak? My examination of this within my life came with the answer, “Always.” I am always weak. I am always vulnerable for falling for these traps. The difference lies in me that I do not always admit my weakness to them.  I am weak only when I admit to God and call out to Him that I am weak. Outside of that, I move through my day confident, maybe over confident, in my independence.

And here is where the bargain presented itself. The last phrase in this scripture line reads, “It is ‘THEN’ that I am strong. Not God strong until I admit my weakness and dependence. Not God strong until I call upon His strength throughout my day. It is only then do I experience strength, His strength, living, loving, forgiving, wisely guiding my life.

This is our opportunity: To go from “WHEN” to “THEN.”  To go from humility to strength, human power to God power, from fear of being discovered for who I am to the power of knowing “whose” I am. All for the ‘sake of Christ.’

I’ll take the deal. How about you?

In His grip,

Deacon Willie, DW

 

Monday, September 21, 2015

Stitched-Strong Faith


Stitched-Strong Faith


Stitched-Strong Faith


20 September 2015

Vianna

Stitched-Strong Faith

Today was a beautiful walk in the country.  It started with a long 5km walk on level farm roads through vineyards and more olive trees. Breathtaking! Far in the distance was the small village, the medieval church towering about the rest of the village, and quaint cobblestoned narrow streets, barely enough for a car to pass.

My treatment of my new crabby knee has been insufficient.  It swells and stings painfully some times. The late morning through afternoon terrain did not help. It was a veritable roller coaster. It was 100m steeply up then down and so on for 18km. It has been a delightfully shorter day.

I chose to stay here in Vianna largely because, Cheryl Laurie, a close family friend of Bishop Eric Pike, with whom I walked the last Camino, is volunteering at this one particular albergue.  I could not resist staying a night to catch up on stories about the “good bishop” and his wonderful wife. Better yet, I was surprised to learn that she was a nurse and gave me treatment for my painful knee. What a Godcident!

Along today’s walk I had the imagination of that common analogy of our life being a tapestry.  The threads and colors weave in and out. To see a tapestry in process, for the inexperienced weaver, it appears a maddening confusion of threads of many colors tied bobbing and dangling beneath the scene in process.  Following this analogy, our life at times seems a confusion of many loose ends and disconnected life directions. Only when we look back upon the work do we see what the master weaver has artfully woven together in the beautiful picture of our life up to where the work is in process. There’s hope and anticipation because there’s more to the picture yet to be crafted! 

A beautiful imagery and comforting thought to consider God as our master weaver. True? It is relieving to think that He has a beautiful image of our life already in process. The whole Jeremiah 29 message comes alive, “I alone know the plans I have for you.”

What grew strong in my contemplation today is what the weaver must do when a strand of thread reaches its end? How does the rest of the tapestry continue at those broken, interrupted treads?

The answer is that He must stitch together a new thread.  One old thread stitched together in a tight knot with a new one. The tapestry of our life continues, but more importantly it becomes stronger with each precisely drawn and remarkably strong stitch. Numerous stitches are embedded in a tapestry all at different locations and times in the big picture. One might think that the stitches are the weak links in the work. The opposite is true. The stitches become the strongest points in the thread, and the sum of all of the stitches make the tapestry as a whole, stronger.

Within all that imagery, came this connection.  My life, our life, has a beautiful tapestry weaving together moment by moment.  A thread of our story comes to an end. Sometimes a thread is weak and breaks. Sometimes the color of the thread must change to create the continuing color scheme of the evolving story. A new stitch is needed.

I tend NOT to adjust well or enjoy the new stitching.  Something in life is going well.  I sense I can finally understand the general story the tapestry appears to be taking and then a dead STOP. Something minor to major has changed in my life. Serious illness, age related limitations begin to occur, personal challenge, family struggle, death, new life, work stress or work loss, finances collapse are just some of the threads of life that run empty or the thread just breaks. Time to be stitched again occurs.

Perhaps you’re like me in the fact that I have great confusion during long periods of stitching, or is it just my impatience with the process?  In another way, I just don’t particularly like the new color that is now part of the big picture. And yet another, I don’t see it as fair or even within my expectations, do I dare say, demand for it to be within my plans.

However, it is His stitching throughout our life that is the blessing. But more importantly, it is precisely the stitches that bring strength.  Good and bad health happen. Death happens. Careers are lost and incomes collapse. Friends and family move away to far off cities only rarely to be visited. People and events break our heart. This and many more snap the threads and the master weaver stitched us with new thread.

It’s all part of making our story of life one with “Stitched-Strong Faith.”

Jeremiah 29 contains the truth, “God alone knows the plans He has for us.”

Stitches and all. We need only have faith in His skillful hands.

In great love,

Deacon Willie, DW

Saturday, September 19, 2015

C.A.D


C.A.D


C.A.D



19 September 2015

Los Arcos

C.A.D

Today was a delightful day’s walk.  It had a nasty 200m climb first thing in the morning and a steep descent right afterward.  Just when I was feeling really good about the walk, a second injury occurred. I have been nursing a crabby left knee and picked up an elastic sleeve for it. It was during a long step down that I hyperextended my right knee. At first it felt like someone had stabbed me in the knee with a pen knife. It was so painful, and at the beginning of a 24km day! I hobbled along for 3km until reaching a little cafĂ© and treated it as best I could. Prayers are appreciated.

For miles today there was the site of an ancient city perched far above the countryside in the city of Monjardin.  It is there that this medieval city dominated the view of vast rolling farm fields, vineyards, and olive trees. Far, far in the background you could see the steep, off-white rock wall of northern Spain’s mountainous escarpment, a sheer wall of rock separating the Camino from the sea to the north.

Still, amongst all this natural beauty, there was Monjardin.  It was mind-boggling to consider how in the world all the stone and material was transported up that vertical, rocky perch.  However, what consumed my every thought today while gawking at this ancient marvel were the words from scripture, “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” The structure was so conspicuous and impressive all I could contemplate was Jesus’ words in Matthew 5, “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.”

Maybe it’s just the crazy way I’m hardwired, but I got to imagining this question, “So what could be hidden up on that hill?” Certainly not a city like Monjardin. I imagined a village up that high could be hidden. Certainly a small hamlet of small structures could be hidden. A single structure would also very easily be hidden. The smaller that area of structures for fewer and fewer people the less visible it could be “set on a hill.”

Yet the scripture clearly states that it is a “city.” I thought, so what’s the difference? It is this. A city is a large community. It can be made up many people living, working, sharing joys and struggling together.  As I considered the alternatives of village, hamlet and small single homes, there are fewer people in which to make community.  What I came to embrace is the idea that perhaps Jesus was speaking also about how elevated in importance it is for people to grow as clusters of small communities into a strong and mighty site for all to see.

Then there is the next line, “Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a bushel basket.” Here’s how it all fit together in my thinking.  God has struck a light of His love and unique gifts in each of us. When that light is brought together with the light of others, the light grows and grows for all to see. What a brilliant city of light becomes of a communities bringing their light together as one city!

Yes, a city of light set on a hill cannot be hidden! It cannot be that magnificent city without those communities of accumulated light.

Here is the dilemma. Community involvement furthermore, community building becomes the casualty of the breakneck speed of today’s living and bulging “to-do lists.” I’m not referring to kids’ sports  team communities or dance/tumbling team nights. Those communities have no issues with commitment.  In contrast, so many find it inconceivable to commit to faith-based community activities. What I contemplated was how the downward spiral away from community pulls one person’s involvement, then another, then another.  It played in my mind like removing one candle light, then another, then another. With each withdrawl of candle light, the city up on that hill does become hidden in darkness.

Again, my imagination, but perhaps what is confronting many of us is C.A.D. That is, Community. Avoidance. Disorder. So many don’t or won’t get involved in faith-based community activities because, in truth, they’re avoiding them.  Some might think that another commitment seems ludicrous when life is already like surviving as a one armed wallpaper hanger with the hives. Whatever good excuses there are, the ugly truth faces all of us. We have a tendency for C.A.D. when it comes to faith-based community.

What a loss it is to our growth as good, faithful, and loving people without a small faith-based community that meets regularly to share the joys and struggles of life! For most of us, C.A.D. is the direct opposite direction to what would make life richer, more understandable, more confidently directed, less lonely, and blessedly more supported on life’s journey.  My contemplation today convinced me that what might seem to be a necessary sacrifice by avoiding a faith-based community life, is, in truth, the very necessary lighthouse to guide our days, our week, and maintain a faith-filled life direction.

Take a pause in your thinking and consider the degree of C.A.D. going on in your life.  What drives your avoidances? How insurmountable are these avoidances? Really, are they really insurmountable or are the reasons motivated by seat time in the Lazy Boy in front of mindless television? Let’s be real. Is there not one night every week that could not a few hours of community fit a rearranged schedule? Be honest. If joining a small, faith-based community seems like a life sentence commitment, consider offering the community a season of weekly meetings over one study or discussion topic. 

And if you are already involved in a small base community, blessed are you. You understand the benefits. Stay firm and committed in your attendance and support. Share the good news of what your community has done to enrich your life. Encourage others to start one.

Yes, combating C.A.D. requires a shuffle of time and life/family schedules. Yes, you won’t be able to imagine finding the energy for community night.  Kids in the equation will make it seem impossible, but creative thinking can overcome these avoidances. New disciplines in life practices have some growing pains. All of these situations are true. Everything in life with value comes with some degree of sacrifice.

Consider the other end of the spectrum by withdrawing and/or avoiding community. Our single light slides under that bushel basket, which denies the world around us to grow from your unique light. Sadly, all live a dimmer and dimmer life without the light of others.

Recall these lyrics to this hymn, “WE are the light of the world, a light that shines before men, that all may see the good that we do and give glory to God.”

Hmmmm. What new small, faith-based community will God arrange upon my return? I anticipate it with great joy.

Peace, love, and joy,

Deacon Willie, DW