Month: April 2014

What’s your “Wonder” quotient?

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THE SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER

Easter isn’t over yet, in fact it’s hardly begun. We Catholics celebrate it for fifty days, ten longer than Lent.  (The link for today’s readings can be found at the bottom of this page.)

Here’s an Easter homily I gave a few year’s back:

“Awesome, dude, the surfer said of the huge wave that was larger than life. “Totally awesome!” He was full of awe, full of wonder. He respected the sea; he revered it.

Something awesome’s overwhelming, impressive, venerable, stately, moving, regal. Something wonderful’s awe-inspiring, remarkable, amazing, astonishing, “unreal,” “unbelievable.”

To wonder about something is to ponder, meditate, reflect, marvel at, think about something wonderful.

What are You in awe of, my friend? What do you wonder about?

This little guy is reading the Declaration of Independence emblazoned on the wall of the Jefferson MemorialThis little guy’s reading the Declaration of Independence emblazoned on the wall of the Jefferson Memorial

 

Here are a few things to test your “Wonder Quotient.”

Ponder each one for a moment.

. . . Have you ever sat in silence on a mountaintop, gazing at the stars?

. . . Have you ever wondered how many there are? How the earth stays in orbit?

. . . Have you ever wondered how our heart can keep beating nearly a billion times in a lifetime?

. . . How the Internet can call up the page you want in an instant from millions of pages?

. . . How God can keep track of the prayers of millions ~ billions o’ people?

. . . How your dog knows what he knows?

. . . How a friend can love you as much as they do?

.  . . How Christianity has survived for two thousand years?

. . . a surgeon can repair the heart, the size of a grape, of a child in the womb?

The act of wondering is not meant so much to understand something as to be caught up in the mystery of it ~ the unknown, the unknowable ~ as the surfer is caught up in the mystery of the wave.

A person who has no sense of wonder can have no spirituality.

Wondering leads us to God ~ to the totally Other.

Have you ever wondered about the Resurrection of Jesus?

Have you ever wondered how we will rise with Jesus?

What eternal life will be like?

What the dawn of our share of eternity will be like?

Do you think it will be wonderful — awesome?

Do these things beckon you, call you?

The Risen Christ can draw us forward. We are called to ponder our future with the Lord.

This means thinking about our death as well. Looking beyond our dying to our rising to eternal life. It means putting our life in order. It requires some reflection on our part. Some yearning, some joy, some wonder.

Here are the words of the ancient Easter proclamation, the dramatic beginning of the Easter liturgy.

Rejoice, heavenly powers! Sing, choirs of angels!
Exult all creation around God’s throne!
Jesus Christ, our King is risen!
Sound the trumpets of salvation.

Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor,
Radiant in the brightness of your King!
Christ has conquered! Glory fills you!
Darkness vanishes forever!

Rejoice O Mother Church! Exult in glory!
The risen Savior shines upon you!
Let this place resound with joy,
Echoing the might song of all God’s people.
… the “Exultet” from the Easter Vigil liturgy

Easter does not begin with such exultation.

The apostles and the women disciples were crestfallen and fearful. It took them a while to take in what was happening. Fifty days later they were still bewildered. So it is not surprising that many of us take some time before we ”exult” in the Risen Christ. Even for Jesus, he forever bears the marks of his wounds. Forever risen, he is also forever slain.

The joy of Easter is powerful. It is so powerful it can penetrate suffering and sorrow and even persecution. It is the joy that lasts forever and does emerge in us from time to time to exult in exaltation. May you find that joy this Easter deep down in your heart.

The Risen Christ is the focus of our hope as Christians. In fact, no Resurrection, no Christianity. For some of us , we are filled with joy. Our lives are bright and airy and cheerful. For others of us, demonstrations of joy do not come easy. Nevertheless, believing steadfastly in risen life for Jesus and for us, gives us something powerful to hang on to. In the act of hoping is our joy!
“Hope springs eternal” is indeed a worthy and powerful statement.

Let’s take the Resurrection personally this Easter. It’s our greatest gift ~ the gift of  eternal life, the gift of our joy, our hope.

Something awesome to wonder about.

Jesus is risen!

             Indeed he is risen!

Look for the signs of new life in the midst of your difficulties.

Take time to stop and wonder at the beauty of a delicate flower, the breeze caressing your face, the little things that make life worth living.

Expand your wonder quotient today.

Now, before you go, take time for some toe’-tappin, roof-raisin’ glory-spillin’ music! Click here, turn up your speakers and be sure to enter full screen and if you don’t have a Happy Day you’re waitin’ for da darn undertaker!

Now Click here for today’s Scripture readings.

Bob Traupman

contemplative writer

Arise and sing Alleluia!

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 Easter Sunday 2014

Jesus, Seed sown-down / risen-up fruit-full

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus!  Wheat-grain harvested whole / hallowed

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus! Bread-broken giving Life forever

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus!  Wrathful grape pressed into purpled joy

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus!   Dead and dread become dancing-dawn

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus! Light piercing / penetrating / ‘luminating / prism-ing

closed-minds and hearts

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus!  Centering silence become

Stillpoint for healed / whole / holy souls

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus!  Soul-thrilling / spine-tingling sound of music

trumpeting Easter triumph

for all God’s people

Arise and sing Alleluia!

Jesus! Love of my life!

Joy of my heart!

Song of my soul!

Source of my own New Life!

I never cease to thank and praise you

and Arise and sing forever

Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!!!

Now I offer you your own way to praise our Lord along with a mighty chorus singing the Halleluiah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah  ending with an even mightier Great Amen! Click Here.

Be sure to turn up your speakers and be sure to enter full screen. And click the < arrow at the top of your computer screen and then Click here for the readings for Easter Sunday Mass.

Happy Easter, Everyone!

                              Poem © Copyright Bob Traupman 2010.  All rights reserved.
                                              Permission granted for private sharing.

With lots of love,

Bob Traupman

Contemplative writer

What wondrous love is this?

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Quantcast


Jesus the Lover

Like a sapling he grew in front of us,
Like a root in arid ground…
a thing despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering ….
And yet ours were the sufferings he bore,
ours the sorrows he carried.
But we thought of him as someone punished,
struck by God, and brought low.
Yet he was pierced through for our faults,
crushed for our sins.
On him lies a punishment that brings in peace
and through his wound we were healed
– excerpted from Isaiah 53

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this, O my soul?

GOOD FRIDAY 2014

Editor’s note: I wrote this piece in 1981, one of earliest writings.  I still consider it one of my best pieces of prose. Its long, but I hope you enjoy it. You might wish to print it out and save it for bedtime.  All the best, Bob.

Jesus is the one who is our tremendous Lover.

He came to live among us to reveal to us, his sisters and brothers, that we have a Father/God who loves us with a Love that is once a passionate, unconditional love and yet gentle, always inviting, never coercing.  Jesus came among us to be our Love, to show the human race how to use the supreme power which God could give us:  the intimate, infinite Love which is ours, if only we would claim it and model our lives after Jesus, who is Love itself.

Jesus was to be for us the model of Love because he was willing to experience in his heart the depths of human emotion.  He risked time and again to embrace the sorrow, the agony, the unfreedom, the need of those who came  to him to be healed.  He risked being burdened by the needs of others.  He risked being disheartened by those who would take from him and not even say thanks.  He risked being misunderstood and rejected  by the authorities of the day and even his neighbors in his home town.  He risked the pain of realizing that even his closest disciples and friends had narrow vision and missed the main point of his message.

He risked all, and realized that, in spite of the pain and sorrow, in his heart, the soft Voice of the Father within him was asking him to keep going, to risk even more.  To go deeper into his heart and to carve out still more and more places for those he would touch and heal, until one day there would be room in his heart for the whole world.

I doubt that Jesus ever forgot a single individual that he encountered, not even those who oppressed him.  He kept them all in his great heart, remembering them, praying for them, hoping that they would open their hearts to the One who Loved them with a passionate Love — the Father/God of all.  He must have realized how important it was to see and feel the tragedy of the corruption he witnessed among the religious and political leaders of the day, to keep even these things in his heart.   As painful as it was, he hoped that by keeping them there some of the great evil he saw would be disarmed and tamed.

That’s all he could do, after all — absorb the tragedy, the struggle, the sin, the failures in Love of the human race in his great, great heart.  Yes, he healed a few sick and gave the gift of sight to some, but most of all he Loved:  He let people into his heart (that’s the definition of Love, after all:  to let someone into one’s heart)  there to be comforted, if just for a moment. For one brief moment in the heart of the Lord Jesus is enough for any of us.

He had room for young John and impetuous Peter.  And for Judas.  He had room for the outcasts of his day, Zacheus and Matthew and Mary Magdalen.  And he brought the outcasts in and seated them at his table  He had room for beggars and lepers and blind people.  And he had room for the Pharisees who broke his heart by their refusal to see and understand.

We remember that he was capable of deep emotion.  He wept profoundly when he saw in prophecy what would happen to Jerusalem because of the hardness of the people’s hearts.  And yet, even the gift of his tears and the greatness of his Love would not stop the destruction that would come because of Israel’s hardness of heart and lack of vigilance.

In the end, he wept in the garden.  I like to believe that his agony was not focused on the trauma he personally was about to endure but because the Father permitted him, in that moment, to experience to the depths the reality of evil and tragedy in the world.  He must have experienced some of the pain and loss that many of us feel when we encounter hardness of heart and misunderstanding.

Jesus embodied the compassion of God — the mercy, the tenderness, the Hesed of God  (to use the wonderful Hebrew word).  God wanted to be known as the Merciful One.  And we, likewise, are instructed to “Be compassionate as our heavenly Father is compassionate.”

Jesus became for us the “Man of Sorrow.” familiar with suffering”  ~ the suffering Servant of Yahweh.  He bore the weight of the world’s refusal to Love and even worse its refusal to be Loved  by the God of Love.  He allowed that evil, that senseless tragedy of the human race, to be absorbed, and thereby redeemed and purified, with his own blood.  In his own bloodstream the cosmic battle between the forces of Love and Hate was waged.  And “his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood.  In him the great cosmic battle was focused.  Our great compassionate God sent his Son to bear within his soul the brunt of that cosmic storm.

We are filled with awe at such overwhelming Love.  And so we honor this evening his great, great heart.  But most importantly we should realize that he has become for us Love itself so that we will also might become Love.

The one essential ingredient of the Christian religion is to Love as Jesus has Loved us.  We are to become compassionate as Jesus is compassionate.  We, like Jesus, are called not to be afraid to embrace the suffering, the tragedy, the sin of the world, so that in Love we will join our hearts to his and, as St. Paul says, “to make up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ.”

Perhaps we can say, therefore, that there are two kinds of people in the world — those who are willing to accept their own share of suffering in the world (and a bit more for Jesus’ sake) and those who cannot or will not bear even the suffering caused by their own failures and sins.  The compassionate ones do what they do out of Love, a seemingly foolish Love.  Some Love because they have been opened up to a mystical awareness that they, like Jesus, are making their own soul and body available as an arena for the cosmic drama of interaction between the forces of light and the forces of darkness.

I do not pity those who suffer.  I rather pity those who are afraid to suffer.  Out of suffering comes understanding — a larger perspective of the world and with it a practical wisdom that tempers Law and Life with Mercy.  Out of suffering comes the ability to see the face of Christ in even a hardened criminal or a seemingly pitiful alcoholic.

The ability to see, to understand, the inner workings of people’s lives is a gift far greater than the suffering one must endure to attain it.  To-suffer-unto-understanding (a definition of compassion) is to be able to look upon the world as Jesus does and as he invites us to do in the Beatitudes.   (Of course, a person can suffer without  understanding — especially when we are angry about  and refuse to accept our lot of suffering.  But if we pray faithfully while we suffer, God will most assuredly gift us with  his own very special kind of understanding.)

Understanding is the goal of suffering for those who have eyes to see.  Understanding which sees through the eyes of Jesus.  Understanding allows us the courage to be with Jesus hanging on the Cross and to see what he saw from that perspective.  Understanding allows us the courage to go with Jesus into the bowels of the earth and descend into hell and to see what Jesus saw.  Then, too, understanding allows us to feel what Jesus felt when he was lifted from the grave.

I have always had an inner sense that the fastest, most efficient way to handle a crisis was to face it head on — not to avoid it.  And so, I invite you to “go with” the suffering.  Explore it.  Allow yourself to experience the feelings, as painful and confused and frightening as they may be.  The more you fight it, the more you will suffer.  Ask Jesus the Light to lead you through the darkness.  Then have faith and confidence that he will.  (After all, the worst you will experience is what Jesus experienced, as long as you follow the will of God.  (Other persons have suffered more cruel deaths than crucifixion.)  And if you truly want  to follow the will of God and are praying daily, then be assured that God is  leading you.  Take his hand in the darkness and follow — even if you can barely see the ground in front of you!

The easiest way through suffering is to stretch out our arms and allow ourselves to be nailed to our cross.  Don’t fight it.  Surrender to the will of God.  Jesus in his agony on Thursday night saw through the nails in his hands and the crown of thorns on his head to the Resurrection.  He didn’t ignore the Cross; he saw it and the horizon beyond it.Jesus didn’t focus on the pain.  The pain of the Cross was only a brief moment (which he knew he had the strength to endure) in the history of his lordship presiding over the business of the universe.  So you, too, should not focus on the painful aspects of our life.  Look instead for the cause of the pain.  Look for the reality — the truth!  And remember that Jesus said “the truth shall make you free!”   See as Jesus sees; that is, see and accept the truth.  And leap from your cross as a butterfly leaps from the cocoon and as Jesus leapt from the grave.

“Impossible!” you may say, especially if you have been suffering for years.

“Not so!” says Jesus and the whole company of prophets and martyrs and confessors and virgins.

Ask for strength and you will receive strength.

Ask for guidance and you will be led through the darkness to a point you will recognize.

Ask to understand and Jesus will let you see yourself through his eyes.

But remember! Don’t focus on the pain.  All those gory pictures of Jesus in agony and bloody crucifixes of the past generation, hopefully, are, hopefully, gone for good.

The Cross is the focal point in that we realize the great Love which Jesus has for us and what he personally has done for us.  But one must not forget to look at the horizon beyond the Cross.  The sky on that first Good Friday afternoon undoubtedly was an awesome sight to behold.  The cross, the pain that is our lot in life to endure, is there only to be transformed and transcended.  The cross is but a moment.

Suffering in life is only a means to greater life.   It is not our final lot.  Resurrection is.  Glory is.  Triumph is.  Though the paradox is that we must accept our cross totally to be through with it.  We are invited to surrender to our Father in complete abandonment as Jesus did, as if we were to leap off a cliff and know that we will land in the Loving arms of our great God.

A further delusion of spirituality of the past generation is that our reward will not come until the next life.  What is delusional about that is that we fail to realize the kingdom is already inaugurated by Jesus in history by his triumph on the Cross.  Our lives are already illumined  by the light of the resurrection.  And there is no reason that we cannot triumph here and now — if we accept our cross.  And, in fact, I am convinced that it will be Christians bold enough to take up in their hand and in their minds the Cross of Jesus who will lead us in XXI and XXII Centuries, just as this has been true in every age of the Church.

And so, the question that we ponder this Good Friday, once again, is:

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this, O my soul?

And the answer is:

The great, great Love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,

who Loved us so much that he stretched out his arms in the most loving,

indeed, the most-nonviolent act, the world has ever seen. 

He stretched out his arms in the face of his enemies and said from his Cross: 

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Come, then adore the Lord who wants to be for us all our Beloved.

Come, then, adore the Lord, the tremendous Lover.

Renew your Love for him and know even more than ever before.

It is by the holy Cross that we have been redeemed.

What wondrous love is this, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this?

And now, before you go, you’ve just HAVE to listen to this  awesome orchestral arrangement of this beautiful hymn sung by Steve Green.    Be sure to turn up your speakers and enter full screen.  (Click on the underlined word.)

With love,

Bob Traupman

Contemplative Writer

The sorrowful mothers of the world

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pieta-a1
The Sorrowful Mother (The Pieta) – Michaelangelo – in the millenial year of 1500 when he was 24 years old

While I was on my retreat during Lent 2009,  one of my prayer assignments was to sit before a statue of the sorrowful mother.  I have always had a devotion to Mary, the mother of the Lord,  and on that balmy afternoon against the background of the cypress swamp I reflected on all the mothers I have tried to console throughout the forty years of my priesthood.  I record for you now  the prayer that was my journal entry for Father Don the next day.  Several of those women mentioned in the prayer are still in my life today.  I dedicate this blog to all sorrowful mothers as I remember them with love.

Be sure to read the commentary about the 24 year old Michelangelo and his first sculpture which follows.  He chiseled his understanding of human grief, tap by tap,  for two years.  It is a magnificent meditation.  Ponder it yourself.  And unite your own prayer to our Lady to his this Holy Week.  There is also a very different image of grief below that I photographed from a book.

Dearest Lady,
mother of Jesus, whose tender love
brought Love Itself into our world,
may those who have never known
the tender embrace
of their own mother’s love
receive the same tender care and  love you wish for each of them. . .
for each of us . . .
as you offered the stern, yet tender love of a Jewish mother upon
Jesus, the Son of God
who was nourished at your tender breasts,
cradled in your arms,
bounced upon your knee;
whose booboo was kissed by your lovely mouth,
whose dead body you received come down from the Cross:
You were the one from whom
Jesus learned the joys of human love.

Dearest Lady,
Simeon said ~ holding your little Child in his arms ~
that a sword would pierce your soul.

Did you have any idea what he meant?
Did you follow Jesus throughout his ministry?
Where you among the women who took care of him
and the others?
If so, where did you stay?
Or did you stay at home in Nazareth?
Did you go out to visit him when you could?
To listen to him preach?

Where you in the midst of the crowds
who pressed around him?
Did you have a chance to be alone with him for a while?
Did you give him any motherly advice?
Did you wash his clothes,
fix his favorite meal when he was on the road?

Did you gain a sense of foreboding as you listened
to the murmurings of hostility beginning to grow toward him?
What did you do with that concern?

I think perhaps you knew.

You could see where this was going to end,
because you kept all those forebodings Simeon told you
in your heart.
Sorrow and sadness must have entered your heart
long before that fateful Friday.
But probably not much worry or anxiety because
I think you must have said over and over:
Be it done unto me according to Your word.
Be it done.
Thy will be done.

A mother can never be prepared to lose her son.

Dearest Lady, I think of mothers I have known
who’ve watched their children die.

My cousin, Lynda, whose beautiful child Robbie
who bore her father’s and my name
died in a fire at age three.
I don’t think his mother ever got over that sadness.

I think of Marie whose paralyzed son was in prison
who couldn’t find a priest to console her after his wrongful death.

I think, dear Lady, that you unite yourself with other mothers
who suffer at the bedside of a sick child.

With all those mothers in Haiti or Chile whose children died in tragedy.

I think of Monica whose son Andrew died of AIDS;
Rosemarie, whose very popular high school senior John
died heroically of a brain tumor;

Fran, whose son Jimmy died at the hands of a drunk driver;
Chris who loved two children within her belly
and wrote a book to work out her grief;
Florence, the mother of my best priest-buddy Phil
who died suddenly at age 47.
“What a dirty trick!” she wailed at God.

The woman whose name I have long forgot
whose surfer-son drowned in a storm
in my first week of priestly ministry;                                                                                                           mothers I know whose sons who cannot escape from addiction;                                               Monique whose son despaired and ended his life, leaving his children.

And I think of all the mothers of the world who are condemned to watch their children die of malnutrition.

How can any of us really know what a mother must feel
who must outlive her child?

Dearest Lady,

I have loved you since my boyhood.
I brought you flowers in springtime
to express my devotion.  Still do.
Today, I contemplated the sorrowful image
a sculptor captured in white marble.
When I gazed into the eyes of that chiseled image
for just a moment, I knew what you must have felt,
what my friends must have felt.
And that moment was gift.
A gift I will always remember.

Dearest Lady,
as you yourself shared in Jesus’ passion,
I ask you to be with all those whose hearts are
broken in sorrow.

Receive today all of Jesus’ brothers and sisters                                                                                  on this planet,

born and unborn.
Draw us all into that one great mystery of divine/human love
which is the glory of our Christian faith:
the birth, suffering, death and resurrection
of the son of a young beautiful woman,
Son of God,
our Brother,
our Redeemer.
Our Friend,
Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

+ + + + + + +
From: ‘Guide to Saint Peter’s Basilica ‘
This is probably the world’s most famous sculpture of a religious subject. Michelangelo carved it when he was 24 years old, and it is the only one he ever signed. The beauty of its lines and expression leaves a lasting impression on everyone.

With this magnificent statue Michelangelo has given us a highly spiritual and Christian view of human suffering. Artists before and after Michelangelo always depicted the Virgin with the dead Christ in her arms as grief stricken, almost on the verge of desperation. Michelangelo, on the other hand, created a highly supernatural feeling.

As she holds Jesus’ lifeless body on her lap, the Virgin’s face emanates sweetness, serenity and a majestic acceptance of this immense sorrow, combined with her faith in the Redeemer. It seems almost as if Jesus is about to reawaken from a tranquil sleep and that after so much suffering and thorns, the rose of resurrection is about to bloom. As we contemplate the Pieta which conveys peace and tranquility, we can feel that the great sufferings of life and its pain can be mitigated.

Here, many Christians recall the price of their redemption and pray in silence. The words may be those of the “Salve Regina” or “Sub tuum presidium” or another prayer. After Peter’s Tomb, the Pieta Chapel is the most frequently visited and silent place in the entire basilica.

It is said that Michelangelo had been criticized for having portrayed the Virgin Mary as too young since she actually must have been around 45-50 years old when Jesus died. He answered that he did so deliberately because the effects of time could not mar the virginal features of this, the most blessed of women. He also said that he was thinking of his own mother’s face, he was only five when she died: the mother’s face is a symbol of eternal youth.

Before you go, here’s the Stabat Mater,  the traditional mourning song to Our Lady. Click here. Be sure to enter full screen and turn up your speakers. The translation of some of the verses follows.

At the Cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
close to her Son to the last.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
all His bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword has passed.

O how sad and sore distressed
was that Mother, highly blest,
of the sole-begotten One.

Christ above in torment hangs,
she beneath beholds the pangs
of her dying glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

Can the human heart refrain
from partaking in her pain,
in that Mother’s pain untold?

For the sins of His own nation,
She saw Jesus wracked with torment,
All with scourges rent:

She beheld her tender Child,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.

O thou Mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above,
make my heart with thine accord:

Make me feel as thou hast felt;
make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ my Lord.   

With Love, 

Bob Traupman 

contemplative writer

 

Mary, Jesus and some expensive oil

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MONDAY OF HOLY WEEK

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. ~ John 12:1-3

Yesterday we found Jesus mobbed but probably exhilarated by the crowds as he made his entry into the great city to the shouts of “Hosanna to the Son of David!”

This day, Monday, weary from all the excitement and eager once again to be welcomed by his beloved friends Martha, Mary and Lazarus, he makes the short trip to Bethany with his disciples.

Apparently he was expected; a dinner party had been arranged and Jesus was to have quite an intimate surprise ~ right there in front of God and everybody. Mary loved Jesus in a special way; Martha seemed to be jealous of her. She got down, washed Jesus dusty, tired, weary bare feet and massaged, soothed, and caressed them.

Suddenly she got up, went to a nearby shelf and got a beautiful alabaster bottle filled with the finest aromatic spikenard.   She broke it open! and the whole house was instantly transformed by its wonderful aroma.

She poured it liberally over the Master’s feet. (And as we know Judas objected strenuously ~ but let’s not bother with that.)

(Permit me this Ignatian-style reflection ~ a bit R-rated.)

3482180199_d2fc3fe367_sA sensual woman caresses a 33-year old man with perfumed oil. The oil squishes down between his toes; it soothes his weary feet. She rubs it in circular motions around the ankles.

Then Mary teases him dripping some, drop / drop on his shins, watching the glistening oil slither down his feet.

She leans back on her haunches and waits to get his reaction.

He grins, and raises his eyeballs toward the ceiling.

Then she pounces on him and rubs his feet firmly and furiously and backs away again, then just looks at him and smiles.

He returns the gaze, obviously, very pleased, very delighted, very relaxed.

Then she leans forward and begins to dry his feet with her hair!

This process takes a long time.

Oil takes a long to come out, just being dried by hair, as lovely as Mary’s is.

Now, dear friends, you can’t get more sensuous than that!

I wonder.

I wonder what the Lord of the universe’s thoughts and feelings were during this most intimate of male / female encounters. Perhaps this most unusual, very creative experience might be even as intimate, as soul-connecting as intercourse it self.

I wouldn’t even dare to imagine. I would simply let him have his own thoughts and feelings

The sacred text doesn’t say, but we can intimate from what we already know that Jesus is already very comfortable with Mary who used to sit gaga-eyed at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:38-42.)

Was it sexual? No. But it sure as h- was sensual!

Did he enjoy the experience?

I’m quite sure he did.

Jesus was a whole, integrated man.

Was he embarrassed to have that happen in front of the others? Quite sure not.

He was with people he could “let this hair down” with, although Mary probably got a good talkin’ to by her sister in the bedroom later! Jesus, unlike many of us, was not afraid to be himself, no matter what.

That Monday of that of Holy Week two Millennia ago was a day of relaxation for our Lord. He seemed to have the ability to be able to make the present moment a sacrament as he put aside concern about the events that lie ahead.

Lord Jesus,

help us, too, to make our present moments a sacrament.  

Help us to fully give ourselves to the moment we are in,

embracing it, with eyes and ears wide open to it,

putting all other concerns aside.  

For that moment is where life happens;

we may not get another.

And now before you go, here’s the beautiful hymn, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” Click here.   

With love, 

Bob Traupman

Contemplative Writer

 

 

 

 

 

 

Palm Sunday ~ The Last Days of Jesus

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Palm Sunday / April 13, 2014

Dear Friends,

All is ready now for the final days of our Lenten journey with Jesus.   The drama of the Paschal Mystery will  be re-enacted  once again in  parishes throughout the world.  I have loved the liturgy of Holy Week since I was a boy and in this blog I hope I can share that love with you.    We’ll go deep here.  Please take time to reflect.  Come  with me now, won’t you?

Jesus entered the holy city Jerusalem on a humble beast of burden ~ himself burdened with the sins of the world.  Here’s the gospel story . . . .

When they drew near Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of

Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village opposite

you, and immediately you will find an ass tethered, and a colt with her.

Untie them and bring them here to me. And if anyone should say anything to

you, reply, ‘The master has need of them.’ Then he will send them at once.”

This happened so that what had been spoken through the prophet might be

fulfilled: “Say to daughter Zion, ‘Behold, your king comes to you, meek and

riding on an ass, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.'” The disciples

went and did as Jesus had ordered them. They brought the ass and the colt

and laid their cloaks over them, and he sat upon them. The very large crowd

spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and

strewed them on the road. The crowds preceding him and those following

kept crying out and saying: “Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he who

comes in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest.” And when he entered

Jerusalem the whole city was shaken and asked, “Who is this?” And the crowds

replied, “This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”   

Thus, what Jesus was about to do was a deliberate, planned action on his part, the last act in the drama of the life of Jesus, as William Barclay the great Presbyterian scripture scholar that I quoted in last week notes. The whole city of Jerusalem was awash with lambtopvisitors in preparation for the Passover.  Barclay notes that thirty years later a Roman governor had taken a census of the number of lambs slain for Passover and noted it to be about a quarter of a million. Now, Passover regulation stated that a party of a minimum of ten are required for each lamb which meant that there were about two and a half million people in Jerusalem at the time Jesus entered the holy city!  

The crowd receives Jesus like a king.  They spread their cloaks in front of him.  They cut down and waved palm branches (and that is why we bless and distribute palms and this day is known universally as Palm Sunday.)

They greeted him as they would a pilgrim, Barclay notes: “Blessed be he who enters in the name of the Lord.” 

They  shouted,  “Hosanna!”  The word means, “Save now!”  and that was a cry that a people addressed to their king or their god.   (Interesting ~ I didn’t know that!)

So, we see that Jesus action here was planned and deliberate, similar to those of the prophets of old who would put their message into a dramatic act  that people could not fail  to see or understand.  Jesus action here was clearly a Messianic claim, or at least, the cleanser of the Temple, an even more dramatic act in which he was to rid the Temple of the abuses that defiled it and its worship a few days later.  

To conclude, then, Barclay had made three points about this story . . .

+  It shows Jesus’ courage.  He knew he was entering a hostile city.  All through his last days, there is in his every action a “magnificent and sublime defiance”~”a flinging down the gauntlet .” (Barclay)  

+  It shows us his claim to be God’s Messiah, God’s Anointed One. And the cleanser of the temple.  

+  It shows us his appeal ~ not a kingship of the throne, but a kingship of the heart.

Lord Jesus, here we are at the beginning of Holy Week once again.

We raise our palms,

singing Hosannas!

we listen to the story of your sacred passion and death.

And now we learn that You really meant it!  

You weren’t just pretending to be human;

You immersed Yourself in our misery,

You got down int the muck with us

~ accepting it all, even death on a cross.  

Jesus, help us to embrace our humility,

our poverty, our brokenness, our share in Your cross.  

May this Holy Week truly be holy for us

so that we too will rise again with You to new life

and receive anew the gift of the Spirit.  

To You, Lord Jesus, be glory and honor forever! Amen.

Here are the todays’s Mass readings. Click here.  To get back to this page, go to the top left corner of your computer screen, click on  the  < back arrow, and you’ll be right back here.

Before you go, dear friends, here is a beautiful song performed by some very devout young people ~ “Behold the Lamb of God”. Be sure to enter full screen.  Have a fruitful Holy Week.  I will publish again throughout the week. 

Bob Traupman

contemplative writer

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William Barclay / The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 2 ~ Revised Edition                                                               \ The Westminster Press ~ Philadelphia 1975

Unbind us, Lord! Let us go free!

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The Fifth Sunday of Lent

In today’s gospel, John the Evangelist has still another incredible story that the church uses to show us how Jesus wants to be for us: He is the One who unbinds our shackles / calls us forth from the tombs of our lives and offers us new and risen life!

When? For all eternity – Yes!  But also right here, right now.  (Also you can see the two previous posts for the first two stories in this trilogy by looking in the righthand column  “A thirsty man meets a thirsty woman (John, Chapter 4)  and “You light up my life” John, Chapter 9).  There are marvelous lessons for believers and unbelievers alike in this trilogy.)  

The pictures  I use here are of a statue interpreting the unbinding of Lazarus that rests on the grounds of the Diocese of Lake Charles Retreat Center in Lake Charles, Louisiana.  My spiritual director had me meditate on it while I was on retreat there in 2010.   I titled it: “Addictions.”

As you read this story, try to see it through your own eyes and experience the story for yourself  Get into it.  It’s filled with emotion.  I’ve added a few reflections of my own along the way and use substantial excerpts from the NRSV version to carry the story along.  If you’d like to read the complete text first, here’s the link: John 11: 1-45.  When you’re done, go to the top left corner of you computer screen and find the  < back arrow; click on it and it will return you to this page.

Now take a moment to prepare yourself for this meditation.  Go to a quiet place and clear your mind from distractions.   Close your eyes for a while and focus on your breathing.  When you’re ready, begin reading . . . .

NOW a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, the one whom you love is ill.”

I can muse that  You, Jesus, often went to the home of Martha and Mary and Lazarus.  You probably went there to  “let your hair down.”  To get away from the crowds; even Your chosen  and sometimes unruly band of  Twelve  didn’t  ”get” what You were about.  I muse that You sometimes felt quite alone even among your friends.   But You really seem to enjoy the three siblings’ company.  You could be who You were, without pressure, without demand.  You could simply “be.”   And Your three friends were very comfortable with You as well.  . . . . .(Remember the story in Luke 10:38-42 when he came for dinner with them?)

Lord, help us to find friends who accept us as we are — warts and all — with whom we don’t have to pretend to be someone ~ something we’re not.  Where we can  bind our wounds and  be encouraged to become whole.  I thank you for the people in my life who are “there” for me when I need them.

But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory.

Lord, You have enabled me  to realize, that illness and difficult times can end in glory for those who persevere / who trust /  who are willing to understand what such crosses will teach us.  . . . . . (Bethany is often used as a symbol of a place of retreat, of refreshment and renewal.)

Lord, help us to see the glory hiding in the dark places of our lives. . . .

Though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.

Lord, help us to grow into patience — to wait for God’s time for things.

Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?”  [ . . . . ] “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.”

How many of  us have fallen asleep to the reality of our lives?  Jesus, help me to WAKE UP! and really see and accept the reality of my life — both the good and the bad.

[. . . .] When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days.

Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home.

Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Lord Jesus, I hear you saying this to ME.  As a priest I have consoled many who wept at the death of their own loved ones.  And throughout my own long years of illness, these words consoled me.  Somehow, I realized that, even on this side of the grave, You would grant me new and risen life.  And You are doing that RIGHT NOW!

She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

Yes, Lord, You are the One who is my Friend / my Beloved / my Redeemer / my Shepherd and Companion on my life’s journey!

When Martha had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him.

Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there.

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

In those few words I feel her grief, Lord  . . . and a bit of a reprimand: “Why weren’t You here?”

How often as a priest have I heard people say that!  “Why weren’t you here, Father?”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.

Jesus, as I (we) reflect on this story, help us to feel / to sense / to realize that it is your humanness / Your humanity that saves us:  You are one like us!

He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.”

Jesus began to weep.

Lord, You always weep with and for Your friends . . . and the folks who do not know You are a friend waiting for them.

You cry — even now — over the state of our world.  I know.  I often cry with you!

So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

Jesus, I praise You that You were not afraid to express Your love to other men, especially to the young beloved disciple who leaned on Your breast at the Last Supper (John 21:20).

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Jesus, You always worked in an atmosphere of hostility.  There were always people around who hated You because you loved. And You taught others to follow You in heroic love.  

In these later days of Lent as we approach the celebration of Your passion, death and resurrection — this year — may we be soberly aware that it was the religious leaders who had you killed. Something for us to ponder even today.  

Are we for You or against You?  Are we on the side of Love or Hate?

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it.

Jesus, I know many who have heavy stones laying across devastated lives.  Particularly my friends  who lie in the tomb of addiction.  I know families who weep and worry over the death of the spirits of their loved ones.

Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”

Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.”

There are always consequences to devastated lives.  They’re always hard to repair.

Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

. . . . but Jesus reminds us  to always  have hope in the ones we love — even when matters seem hopeless.

So they took away the stone. And Jesus [. . . . .] cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth.

Jesus said to them,

UNBIND HIM AND LET HIM GO FREE.”

I have come to realize, Lord, that coming out of our tombs is only the beginning of recovery.  Resurrection takes a long time. We need others to unbind us.  And I thank you for the people who have helped to unbind me — especially You, Lord!

Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.

May we come to deepen OUR faith in You, Lord, and realize that as we stay close to You, You will unbind us and let us go free to new and risen life and love!

The Gospel of the Lord.

Praise to You, Lord Jesus Christ!

Now here is the song “He will raise you up on eagle’s wings” by Michael Joncas   sung at my parents’ funeral and so many others at which I had the honor of presiding.  We Catholics truly believe that we will live forever!  And for our young people, here is Queen singing Who wants to live forever?   Be sure to turn up your speakers and enter full screen.

With love,

Bob Traupman

contemplative writer


This post is dedicated to the young men for whom I’ve  prayed and their parents: May they be unbound from the shackles of their addictions and have new and risen life.

The New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America.All rights reserved.  From the oremus Bible Browser http://bible.oremus.org v2.2.5 2 March 2008.