September 2008

Stories Seldom Heard Archive

Stories Seldom Heard

109th Edition

Matthew 5: 14-16

 Over the last couple of months we have been reflecting on parables.  Some parables are longer and more involved than others.  Other parables are succinct, more like wise sayings, pithy statements that remind us how we are to live our lives.  These parables are easy to remember and we often hear them alluded to in everyday parlance.  The parable, “You are the light of the world” on which we will be reflecting this month is that kind of a wise saying.  Even though it is often linked with “You are the salt of the earth” because of their close proximity in Matthew’s Gospel and the fact that they are images of discipleship, we will only be reflecting on what it means to be lights in this world.

Early in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus uses this image of light, but it is not the only time.  Later we are called to be children of light doing deeds that bring life and light into our world.  Also we are reminded “What we hear in the dark we are to speak in the daylight.” (Mt 10:27)  We, however, are not the originators of this light, but are the reflection of the One we follow who is the Light of the world.    If we want to know more specifically how to be people of light, followers of Jesus, Matthew helps us by preceding this saying, with the beatitudes.  As we read Chapter 5 from the beginning we can see more clearly how the placement of Matthew 5:14 is connected to the preceding verses.  Too often we separate the beatitudes from the rest of the gospel and because of that being light of the world loses some of its fullness and luster.   But when we read the whole chapter we can see more how those who live the beatitudes well are lights to those around them: those with whom they go to school, work, companion.

Many of the images that Jesus uses have caught the artist’s eye, the poet’s heart, the preacher’s imagination, and the author’s curiosity, as well as our own minds and hearts.  In the personal lives of people in every culture and in the arts the contrast and the nuances between light and darkness have been at play for centuries.  Darkness does not always evoke negative thoughts and feelings because sometimes darkness brings with it a sharpened awareness, a deeper insight and a spiritual renewal.

In Rainer Maria Rilke’s Book of Hours, one of his prayer/poems nuances some of the qualities of darkness.  His feelings about darkness might not only surprise us, but also might help us appreciate the times when we have found life struggles overwhelming, unexplainable and even incomprehensible.

You, darkness, of whom I was born -

I love you more than the flame/ That limits the world

To the circle it illumines/ And excludes all the rest.

But the dark embraces everything:/ Shapes and shadows, creatures and me,

People, nations - just as they are.

It lets me imagine/ A great presence stirring beside me./ I believe in the night.

Along this same line of thinking, Gerald May who is a doctor and a psychologist, wrote a well-known book entitled The Dark Night of the Soul.  Some of us might associate this title with Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross which would certainly go along with May’s purpose.  Much of the book discusses Teresa’s and John’s theology of suffering and helps us understand what they and Rilke are proposing.  We all acknowledge we have difficult experiences throughout our lives that come upon us often without notice and from our point of view without cause. No one is so sheltered from life’s struggles that she/he, at some time in her/his life, will not have to start over.  But the important insight that this book gives, as well as the other writers to whom I have referred, is that hard times and difficult situations do not necessarily have to lead to dead ends.  There are situations that are brutal, but with attention, care and grace we not only get through them, but also find in them unexpected blessings.

Gerald May gives a very personal and poignant example from his own life.  He says as he has gotten older he finds it harder to distinguish between good things and bad things—because sometimes things start out looking good – even great – but they turn out to be extremely disappointing.  And there are other things that seem bad at the beginning, but turn out to be a blessing.   Seven years before he wrote the book he was diagnosed with cancer – clearly bad.  But the experience brought him closer to God and the people he loved the most.  He knew this would never have happened had he had not been so sick.  Also, there was the chemotherapy – terrible.  He got very sick.  He felt awful.  He lost his hair, became totally dependent on others and was very frail, but it resulted in a temporary cure.  It was an extremely difficult period in his life, but he counted the insights he gained about himself as a blessing and a great gift because he began to realize that life is a mystery. 

He realized in a profound way that the most important things of life aren’t in our control which is not an easy lesson for most of us – especially for those of us who think we should be in control.  He also realized another truth.  We don’t have to look for spiritual lessons with every struggle that comes our way.  There are spiritual lessons to be learned, but they usually come to us in brief insights in the course of our lives.  I wonder if any of this resonates with you?  It does with me.  Yet, we know that not everyone who suffers from a serious illness as Gerald May describes or who has experienced set backs in her/his life comes to life affirming insights.

As believers we see life through different eyes because we know we don’t have to rely on our own strength alone to get through difficult situations.  We’re not on our own.  The Divine dwells within us.  As believers we have a light that guides us and illuminates our choices and decisions helping us come to life-giving insights.

In the gospel today Jesus says to his disciples and us.  “You are the light of the world.”  In other words, we who are reading this right now, we are lights of the world.  Now that’s a scary thought isn’t it?  We are lights for the world:  we, who sometimes find it hard to forgive ourselves, let alone another person:  we, who don’t always make good decisions and wise choices for our own lives:  we, who would never claim to be the light of our household, rectory or convent, let alone presume to be light for the world.  Jesus calls us to be lights of the world.

As we listen to Jesus’ words we don’t only hear an expectation or obligation.  We also hear in his words a blessing and a promise: a promise that this light within us doesn’t have to burn on its own.  God has placed a Spirit within us who dwells in us, enlightens us and will never leave us.  This Spirit blesses us: encourages us to do God’s work here on earth as it is in heaven; blesses us with a light that takes away our blindness and indifference to the suffering and pain of others; blesses us and enables us to see ourselves and others as good and holy – made in God’s image.   This Spirit of God blesses us: opens our eyes and enlightens our vision so that we can find ways to become lovers of God and one another.

Catherine of Siena the great Dominican saint and one of the three women doctors of the church says, God could have given us everything we needed both spiritually and materially, but instead God made us incomplete so that we would be dependent on one another, so that we would use our gifts to grace another person’s life.  What does Catherine mean by this?  What does the grace look like?

Well, in the gospel Jesus compares this grace to a city of lights or a community of people who use their gifts to brighten the darkness that clouds this world: the darkness of isolation and fear, the darkness of injustice, suffering and pain. This grace comes in a thousand different shapes and sizes.  The face of grace is always changing and surprising us.

So what does this grace look like?  It’s the face of a neighbor who goes out of his way to welcome us into our new home.  It’s the face of a stranger who takes time and walks us to our destination when we’re traveling in a foreign city.  It’s the face of a woman or man who greets us at the door of the church and sits with us while we’re having coffee and donuts so that we are not alone.  Grace meets us at every stage of our lives.  Grace helps us get through our first day at a new high school and the first few weeks of a new career.  Grace meets us in the doctor’s office with kindness and compassion, as well as attentive listening and wise counsel.

Grace wears a thousand disguises not just in other people’s lives, but in our own also.  So perhaps this month or at least this week before we go to sleep at night we might want to take note of the times during the day when we have been the face of grace to another person.  Imagine that!  In comfort and joy, suffering and strength, forgiveness and mercy, we grace another person and brighten this world.

Special thanks to Sharon Grant, Mary Ellen Green and Maria Hetherton who have helped in editing this article.

"Stories Seldom Heard" is a monthly article written by Sister Patricia Bruno, O.P.  Sister is a Dominican Sister of San Rafael, California.  This service is offered to the Christian community to enrich one's personal and spiritual life.  The articles can be used for individual or group reflection.  If you would like "Stories Seldom Heard" sent to a friend, please send a note to "purple115@juno.com".  If you would like to support this ministry, please send tax deductible contributions to Dominican Sisters of San Rafael, c/o Sister Patricia Bruno, O.P., 1520 Grand Avenue, San Rafael, CA,   94901     Thank you.