Nazareth: The Hidden King

Grace: an intimate knowledge of our Lord, Who has become man for me, that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely.

Text for Prayer: Luke 2:51-52

Reflection:  See the house in Nazareth where Jesus grew up. See the place where Mary and Joseph live, where they gather together and work.

Jesus Christ is the model for all of us.  Everything about Him, everything He does is a lesson for us in how we may be complete as human beings and as subjects to the Divine King.  Just as Mary kept Jesus’ words and deeds as material for a holy pondering in her heart, we too are to do the same.  While we are often mesmerized by the greatest of His deeds recounted in the four Gospels, perhaps the most instructive for our everyday lives are those everyday deeds that Jesus took upon Himself as a model of perfect humanity.  We must let this hidden life of our King impress upon our hearts deeply those lessons which we so often forget in the hustle and bustle of our lives.  Too often we are centered on something other than living as a child of God.

Take in the atmosphere of such a peaceful and holy home.  Imagine the tranquility and order of such a place during those hidden years of our Lord.  Let your eyes become fixed on the young Jesus and let your companionship with Him grow.  Let the ice that surrounds your heart melt away and let yourself become aware of God’s love for you in your humanity as you see Jesus in His humanity. Jesus has come to meet you with none of the grandeur and majesty to strike your unaccustomed eyes; all is immediate humanity on this day.  The heart that beats within Jesus’ chest fits perfectly into your own.  Allow the words of Saint Paul to apply to your own inner longings for closeness to Christ: “It is no longer I that live but Christ that lives in me.” (Gal 2:20)

Jesus is set on doing the will of His Father at all times through obedience to Joseph and Mary.  This is the trajectory of His Divine Heart. Jesus’ nobility shines through in His being more than His doing now. Far from desiring something more regal, notice how Jesus delights in the simple accommodations offered Him during His hidden life.  He takes delight in what has been designed by His Father in Heaven.  Jesus is able to see and accept Mary and Joseph as instruments the Father’s divine will.  See the promptness that the hidden King attends to their voices. See how lovingly He conforms to their will, “subject to them.” (Luke 2:51)

His hidden life is one of love for His earthly family, one of work, one of poverty, one of humble concealment, one of interior life.  And see how every heartbeat of Our Lord is a prayer as His zeal for completing His mission, begun in meekness, burns within Him.

Questions: What are the three most important changes that I would have to make to more closely resemble the Hidden King in His humble early life?  Are there things that get in the way of those changes?  Should there be things in the way?  How can I draw nearer to Jesus in His humility?

Pray: Oh Jesus my King, grant that I may look upon Your life and see the secret to living close to Your heart.  Teach me perfect obedience to those that I owe it to.  Teach me to imitate that inner prayer that You model for me as King and Lamb. Teach me to be an instrument of ministry as You came to minister rather than be ministered to.  Teach me to accept my current situation according to the will of Our Father, and if it is to His greater Glory, let me follow You more closely in every way: in work, in poverty, in concealment, in humility and, most importantly, in love.

The Finding in the Temple: The First Message of the King

Grace: an intimate knowledge of our Lord, Who has become man for me, that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely.

Text for Prayer: Lk. 2: 41-50

Reflection: Few choices in life are so obvious that even someone with the worst-formed conscience could easily make a good decision.  St. Ignatius even notes in his second set of “Rules for the Discernment of Spirits” that the Evil Spirit can trick us, presenting as good something that is actually evil. So he provides guidelines in his “Rules” to help us consider carefully the decision at hand.

But St. Ignatius did not just want people to be able to choose good over evil.  St. Ignatius recognized that a person can be presented with two good options that are not compatible with each other- the life of a husband and the life of a monk, for instance.  He is very concerned that a person chooses not just what is good, but what is best.  Ignatius shows this concern when speaking about the magis.  “Magis” is a Latin word that can translate to “the greater good”.  There is another Latin word, “satis”, that can mean “what is good enough”.   These words are the origin for “magnificent” and “satisfactory”, respectively.  So another way to think about it when St. Ignatius says to strive for the magis is to work for that which is magnificently good, instead of that which is satisfactorily good.

One contemplation that Ignatius proposes to help us understand this more clearly is that of the finding in the Temple.  At the age of twelve, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple.  After they left with the caravan, Jesus stayed behind.  Even if they never outright said to Jesus that He was to go back with them, there could not have been any doubt in Jesus’ mind that this was the will of His mother and foster-father.  There isn’t any question of Jesus choosing between good and evil.  He is choosing between two good things- to obey the will of His parents, borne out of a love and concern for His well-being on the one hand; and to be about His Father’s business on the other.  “Both” is not an option. Jesus must decide which good thing is the magis.

And when Mary and Joseph arrive, and Mary scolds Jesus for worrying them, He asks “Why were you looking for me?  Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?”  For Jesus, it is clear that He must seek to do the Father’s will in every situation.  It is so clear to Him that He does not understand why Mary and Joseph would have had any doubt where to look for Him.  His attitude of “where else would I be?” is an example of Jesus’ single-minded drive to do the Father’s will, a drive seen so often throughout the Gospels.  This is true all the way to Gethsemane and the Cross- where even there He says “not my will but yours be done” (Lk. 22:42).

Even for Jesus, to leave His parents at the age of twelve is a dangerous proposition.  In choosing to do the Father’s will, Jesus is giving up a home, security, the care of family, and everything He has grown up with. He is the embodiment of the First Principle and Foundation.  His overriding concern is not for comfort or safety, but for the magis and the Father’s will.  Again, we see the Call of the King being played out here.  Jesus is choosing to endure any hardships necessary out of a love for the Father and a desire to constantly be doing the Father’s will.   He is fulfilling His promise in the Call that he would also toil and live without comforts in order to complete the Father’s mission.  Like Jesus, we must constantly ask ourselves what we are willing to do for the sake of the love of God.

Questions: Think of the love for Jesus that Mary and Joseph show as they are looking for Him.  How could Jesus choose something besides this?  What are times in your own life that you have had to choose between two good things?  What motivated your choice?  How does that motivation compare with Jesus’ motivation for staying in the Temple?

The Flight Into Egypt

Grace: an intimate knowledge of our Lord, Who has become man for me, that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely.

Text for Prayer: Mt. 2:13-23

Reflection: We were visited by our king, but did we know him?

Today we pray with Mt 2:13-23, the flight into Egypt.  Upon first encountering the story, we mark the obvious connections to Exodus.  In the background of our memory is the story of Moses and the Israelites, exiled in a foreign land under the oppressive hand of Pharoah.  Israel was God’s helpless child, weakest among all the nations of the world.  Yet God chose it and called it out of its place of humiliation in order that it might be a light to the nations.  The oppression of outsiders could not thwart the power of God.

Yet how much more poignant is the Flight into Egypt because here Jesus is hounded, not by Egyptians, but by his own people, by the king who is supposed to be his earthly ruler.  Wailing and lamentation sound from Israel at the depth of the cruelty.  And that is how it has been throughout history to the present day.  We, Christ’s own people, exile him anew everyday because he lives in each person who suffers at our hands.

God eventually calls His Son out of Egypt.  Before advancing to the resolution, however, we should allow ourselves to linger with the Holy Family on the road to Egypt.  The prospect before them seemed little less dire than the certain death which awaited them at home: would they meet the end of their days in an Egyptian wilderness?  Would there be nobody to remember them and carry on their memory?  Unlike Rachel, whose grave near Bethlehem preserved her life in the memory of her descendents, would the Holy Family sink into anonymous demise like so many through history?  It is only when we look squarely into the prospect of this destiny that we understand the true poverty of Christ our King.  And it is only then that we begin to understand the radical nature of the trust that God asks us to place in Him.

Perhaps to form your memory and direct your emotions, listen to a recording of the Coventry Carol, one of the most mournful songs we hear at Christmastide.  It is based upon the Flight into Egypt.  Journey along the path with the Holy Family and feel the uncertainty which follows them.  Doesn’t this uncertainty make their trust stand out all the more forcefully?  Compare the plight of the Holy Family in comparison to all the other innocent men, women, and children who have been driven from their homes throughout history.  Finally, allow yourself to be confronted by the Providence of God, which leads us through death into life.

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Questions:  Where am I experienceing difficulty trusting God’s Providence?  Where have I experienced Providence in the past?  Where has God brought good out of difficulties in my life?  How does Christ get exiled in my world today?

The Presentation in the Temple: Oblation of the Divine King

Grace: To share in the gratitude of Mary for the Gift given her by the Father.

Text for Prayer: Lk. 2:21-38

Reflection: Mary knew from the very beginning that God acts.  That God takes the initiative.  She knew that better than anyone ever has.  And she trusts His divine action.  She said yes at the Annunciation, even though there was reason to fear.  She rejoiced and glorified the Lord at what He had done at the Visitation.  She stayed focused and confident in the Father’s care throughout the Nativity and the fleeing into Egypt.  And that same spirit of humility and trust is operating again in Mary at the Presentation of “her” child at the Temple.

She has known from the beginning this child belongs to God, as every child does.  But in a special way she knew that to be the case now.  Her focus remains on the goodness and the generosity of the Father and she acknowledges that in offering the child Jesus into the hands of the Father as soon as He was born.  She would be there again, later on, at the foot of the cross, when Jesus would freely offer his own life into the hands of his Eternal Father.

The fulfillment of the long awaited promise to Israel is initiated here.  Simeon and Anna give beautiful testimonies to this fact.  A plan that has its roots deep in history, is coming to fruition here.  What is anticipated, what has been hoped for, longed for, is made present now, in the flesh.

Questions: In what way might I be being asked to “present” what is precious in my life to the Lord who has given it to me in the first place?  When I have I abandoned myself to the Father’s care in the past?  Do I remember the freedom that came with it, even if it felt scary?  Do I have enough trust in my heart to present to the Father what I most love and put it all at His service?  How can Mary guide me and be model for me in this trust?

The Nativity: The First Appearance of the Divine King

Grace: light to know the Divine King who has become a newborn child for me; to love Him and follow Him in His poverty, humility, docility and patience; to serve Christ’s people who find themselves at the mercy of others, outcast and without security

Text for Prayer: Lk. 2:1-20

Reflection: Children everywhere love Christmas, for obvious reasons. They get a break from school, they are on the receiving end of gift exchanges, and everything seems alive with decorations of angels blasting trumpets over the heads of Mary, Joseph and a host of barn animals encircling the infant Jesus. What could be more fun?  But from Nazareth to Bethlehem is about 80 miles of hard road. Imagine the troubled mind of Mary, certainly familiar with the prophet Micah’s inspired words: “And thou, Bethlehem (meaning, the House of Bread) Ephrata, art a little one among the thousands of Judah: out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel: and his going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity.” (Micah 5:2) Can Mary be confident that, under the edict of Caesar, this virgin-birth will fulfill the prophet’s words when she and Joseph face no fanfare in Bethlehem? There isn’t so much as a place to sleep apart from one fit for animals. Can Joseph feel pride in his responsibility towards Mary and his adopted child when he, the carpenter, can procure only a shabby roof and a manger to lie in? Can their kinfolk not provide anything better for the arrival of the King of Kings? How frustrated and humiliated the couple must feel, able to cling to nothing save their trust in God and His mysterious ways.

But that trust is enough, fitting even, for the God who has taken the form of us sinners. Perhaps Mary and Joseph manage a smile and recall, as the infant Jesus is placed in a food trough for beasts of burden, the old proverb: “Where there are no oxen, the crib is empty: but where there is much corn, there the strength of the ox is manifest.” (Proverbs 14:4) And now the baby Jesus lies there, still and quiet. Christ is there in the manger out of love for me! How can my cold heart not be drawn to His? How can my world not shrink to nothing more than this crib? How can my eyes not become fixed on this tiniest of heroes? Notice the Great Teacher’s first sermon: He lies in the manger, completely at the mercy of those around him, completely accepting of the humble surroundings, completely one of us. This is preaching! He elected poverty over riches, pain over comfort, and contempt over honors… This is also what he asks of his closest companions.

Christ’s long march to the Cross begins here, in the manger. This is His Kingdom. He shows us His throne, His Kingdom’s flag, the weapons his soldiers must use. He calls us to follow and demands that we also be converted and become like children (Matt 18:3).  Bethlehem, this House of Bread, is always with us. Christ, as food for the world lying in a manger, can be found in our Churches where we celebrate the Mass. Just as His infant tears say more than words ever could, He speaks to our hearts from the altar and the tabernacle. And we respond as the angels did with “Gloria in Excelsis Deo, Glory to God in the highest.” (Luke 2:14) Then we set out, nourished and renewed once more, side by side with Christ, to minister to the least of God’s people.

Pray: Oh my Jesus, You are infinitely lovable. In heaven You are God’s Eternal Son and adored upon a throne fit for a Divine King. On earth, You are Mary’s Humble Son, surrounded by scarcity, humiliation, helplessness and confusion. Make me like You while I am in this life so that I might know You and love You and serve You and join You in the next life where
Your Kingdom reigns. Amen.

Entering Contemplation

            Perhaps as you have prayed with the meditations of the past two and a half weeks (the “first week” of the Spiritual Exercises), you have begun to feel a desire to go deeper in your prayer.  If so, you are probably experiencing exactly what St. Ignatius thought would happen.  You are starting to experience a desire for contemplation.

            St. Ignatius largely recommends what he calls ‘meditations’ during the beginning of the exercises.  This is a more labor intensive form of prayer that focuses upon the memory, intellect, and will.  In meditation, we reflect upon certain basic truths and first principles of the Christian life and try to grow in our desire to incorporate them into our lives.  But as you have probably begun to experience, Christian life is more than a program for behavior.  At the center of the Christian life is the person of Jesus.  During the first week, we experience the love of Jesus that searches us out and saves us through love, despite the fact that we are sinners.  From here, it is the person of Jesus who leads us into contemplation.

            Ignatian contemplation begins with the revelation of Holy Scripture.  Starting with the concrete stories of the Bible (especially the Gospels), Ignatius asks us to enter into the narrative by using all our faculties, including the senses.  The narrative takes on a deeper richness through the application of our senses of sight, hearing, touch, smell and even taste.  We see the characters involved; listen to their conversation; observe and reflect upon their actions.  We go so far as to insert ourselves in to the very narrative, becoming a character in the scene, interacting with the other characters and entering into “colloquy” (conversation) with them.  Ignatian contemplation, far from being devoid of sound or image, is replete with the sensible material made available to us by the fact that God entered into our physical world through the person of Jesus Christ.

            Last Friday’s prayer with the Incarnation was the first contemplation of the retreat.  The coming weeks will introduce many more.  Perhaps you might want to do a repetition of the Incarnation and allow Jesus to lead you more deeply into the heart of prayer.

Discovering Jesus Again

            We are now entering into what is called the “second week” of the Spiritual Exercises.  During the first week, we focus our attention upon how the dynamics of creation, fall, and redemption apply to our own lives.  We experience how the love of Christ can overcome our human rebellion.  True repentance and contrition awakens in our heart as we come to know Jesus, wounded for our sins.  Contrary to our customary way of thinking, Jesus does not hold our sin against us, but forgives us, heals us, and even calls us into service at his side.  The Call of Christ the King sounds in our ears and demands a response. 

            Who is this person calling to us?  Have you experienced a desire to know Jesus at a deeper level?  The purpose of the second week of the Spiritual Exercises is to answer this desire.  Yesterday’s reflection upon the Incarnation set forward the grace which will direct us during the second week: an intimate knowledge of our Lord, Who has become man for me, that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely.  Knowledge, love, discipleship: these are the graces we seek.  Our eyes are turned toward Jesus, not toward self, in order that in knowing Him, we might be inwardly transformed.

            During the second week, we will pray directly with the stories of the Gospels.  In one sense, these stories seem very familiar to us.  We have heard some of them too many times to count.  But it is one thing to hear these stories and quite another to stop and inwardly savor them, contemplating them and allowing them to shine forth with greater brilliance.

            St. Ignatius recommends that we supplement our prayer of the second week by reading the Gospels.  The experience of reading an entire Gospel from beginning to end can be exhilarating.  We are used to hearing the story in short pieces spaced throughout the liturgical year.  In doing this, we might miss the force of Jesus person and His mission.  We might fail to grasp what made him such an attractive figure.  The Exercises are a means of reconnecting to the newness of Christ which is available in every age for those who love Him.  Now is the time to discover Jesus again.

            There is plenty of time remaining in Lent.  Pick up a Gospel and start reading from the beginning.  In reading, ask for the grace to know Christ more intimately.  Open your heart to Him, and you will discover His heart open for you.

The Incarnation: The Coming of the Divine King

Grace: an intimate knowledge of our Lord, Who has become man for me, that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely.

Text for Prayer: Contemplation on the Incarnation, Spiritual Exercises no.101-109

Reflection: There’s an old saying that “truth is stranger than fiction”.  Some things are just so unbelievable that we wouldn’t even imagine them if they didn’t actually happen. An infinite, omnipotent God becoming a finite, weak human being would have to fall into that category.

The ancient Greeks had a story about the creation of humans where there were five races, one after the other, each one worse than the one before it.  The first four ended in different ways: some died out, some destroyed themselves violently, one was destroyed by Zeus for its impiety.  The Greeks thought that eventually, things would get so bad that Zeus would have to destroy us, too.  This goes to show what C.S. Lewis said about Christianity being a religion no one could have guessed up.  The Greeks, for all their poetry, philosophy, and learning, never even imagined the possibility of the Incarnation.  Zeus never took on human nature, just the appearance to disguise himself in order to seduce some maiden he found attractive.  What we expected to happen was not even close to what actually occurred.  The contrast between how we imagined the gods to respond to our actions vs. how the Trinity views us could not be sharper.  We thought that the gods would destroy us for being so evil, but the Trinity thought us worth saving.

The Trinity looks down on us and sees our worst behavior, but still loves us and desires to save us.  Gabriel and Mary likewise act out of love in their generous response to the Trinity.  The Trinity looks at the world, literally going to Hell in a handbasket.  Their response to put an end to the sin and evil in the world is not to send thunderbolts down to destroy us, but to send the Second Person of the Trinity among us to draw us closer to Themselves.  And the Second Person will hold nothing back or keep anything from us, but give Himself totally to us, giving even His life.

However, it is never simply an issue of the Trinity acting alone.  Just as Christ the King invited us to follow Him to conquer His Father’s enemies in the previous contemplation, so the Trinity invites Gabriel and Mary to co-operate in bringing about our salvation.  The occurrence of the Incarnation was never a question of the love of the Trinity.  It was a question of whether Gabriel and Mary would choose to participate in the saving work of the Trinity and give themselves fully to this work, even after Mary is promised that her heart would be “pierced by a sword” (Lk. 2:35).

The situation with us is much the same.  The Trinity’s saving work both in us personally and through us for others is never a question of the Trinity’s love.  The question is whether we have the love and generosity of Gabriel and Mary to co-operate in the Trinity’s project of salvation.  Are we willing to accept Jesus into our lives as Mary did, and follow our King wherever He leads us?  Even if, like Mary, we have to suffer numerous anguishes?

Questions: Do I look at the world as the Trinity does?  When God asks something of me, do I respond with the same generosity as Mary?  What is the reason that Mary is so completely generous in her response to the Trinity?

The Kingdom of Christ

Grace: not to be deaf to the Lord’s call, but prompt and diligent to accomplish His most holy will.

Text for Prayer: Spiritual Exercises 91-98

Reflection: One of the hallmarks of Ignatian spirituality is the virtue of magnanimity, greatness of heart.  Ignatius, being a former soldier and member of a royal court, transformed the ideals of that system and directed them toward Christian ends.  In the royal court, the magnanimous man was one who devoted himself to great ventures and high ideals in the service of a king or queen.  For Ignatius, Christian magnanimity also strives after high ideals and great ventures, but all oriented toward Christ and His Kingdom.

In today’s meditation upon the Kingdom of Christ, we want to keep in mind, first of all, that the desire within our heart is brought to fruition, not by ourselves, but by our relationship to Jesus.  We begin our meditation asking our Lord for the grace “not to be deaf to His call, but prompt and diligent to accomplish His most holy will.”

We take the attitude of the lowly page, waiting in anguish for that moment when the King looks our way and finally calls us to action.  Imagine that page who has spent his life preparing for the day when he might be of some small service.  Then consider the moment when the good and noble king arrives to announce to his subjects that he has a glorious campaign in mind, how he seeks to go throughout the world in order to vanquish barbarism and lift up lands to a noble order.  The campaign would be difficult.  There would be evenings of cold and hunger.  There would be moments where one would doubt his ability to accomplish the task before him.  But those who share in the sufferings will share all the more in the glory.  Consider the burning heart of the magnanimous page who devotes himself to a good and generous king.  Consider also the pusillanimous (small-hearted) page who sluggardly returns to his home to enjoy his private comfort.  Who would you rather be?

Having prepared your mind with this or some other analogy of an earthly ruler, then shift your attention to Christ who has also gone out into the world and called subjects to himself.  He also has a campaign in mind to establish God’s Kingdom in the hearts of all.  Being faithful to the call He received from His Father, Jesus suffered trial and temptation, cold and hunger, rejection and death.  But the Father raised His Son to glory, and from the Father’s right hand Jesus still calls us into his service.  We will suffer the same trials as He, but we will also share in the glory of the Father.  What is our response?  Ignatius composes a prayer to help us formulate how we might answer:

Eternal Lord of all things, in the presence of Thy infinite goodness, and of Thy glorious mother, and of all the saints of Thy heavenly court, this is the offering of myself which I make with Thy favor and help.  I protest that it is my earnest desire and my deliberate choice, provided only it is for Thy greater service and praise, to imitate Thee in bearing all wrongs and all abuse and all poverty, both actual and spiritual, should Thy most holy majesty deign to choose and admit me to such a state and way of life.

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Questions:  How does Jesus appear to you in this mediation?  What is your reaction when you hear Jesus call you?  In what way does the Call of Christ set your heart ablaze?  How does your experience of praying through your own sin affect how you pray with this meditation?

The Prodigal Son: Discovering Mercy

Grace: To know the Mercy of the Father and His unconditional love for me even in the midst of my sinfulness.

Text for prayer: Lk. 15:11-32

Reflection: Jesus’ story of the prodigal son provides a uniquely comprehensive vision of the nature of our own sinfulness, the mercy of our heavenly Father even in light of that sinfulness and the beauty of the encounter when finally we come home to that mercy.

To start with, it is good to note that for the son to go unsolicited and ask for his inheritance while his father was still alive, he is effectively proclaiming to the father that he might as well be dead as far as he is concerned.  The radical selfishness that has taken over the son’s desires has no room for the thoughts, feelings and concerns of anyone else, including the one who gave him life itself.  The son proceeds to operate unhesitatingly according to this self-centered world-view as he goes to a “far off country”- far from home- far from the the source of his life.

This selfishness, taken to its logical end, concludes in misery.  Sooner or later, we all “bottom out” when we live according to that mode of selfishness.  The vividness of the scene where the son is stuck with the pigs and longing for what they feed upon conjures up in us the utterly pathetic state in which we are left when we have so totally turned in ourselves and turned away from the love and life in our own lives.  It is a pitiful scene indeed and it can look like there is no way out of it.  Only in this moment of “hitting rock bottom” is the son prepared to receive the mercy that the father has desired to offer ever since he turned away.

The father, who has apparently been scanning the horizon all the while looking for his son who has been lost, rushes out to meet his beloved son when he sees him.  That is the heart of the Father that Jesus reveals to us.  The son can’t even get his speech out of his mouth.  The father’s mercy envelops him before he can even utter the words seeking some degree of forgiveness and toleration from his father.  The father responds with much more than toleration- he restores him to a dignity greater than any he had apparently ever enjoyed- robing him in glory and majesty and initiating a great feast.

Questions for Reflection: When have I experienced this kind of mercy?  When have I shown it?  Remember and re-visit the conditions, what it felt like.  Am I in the midst of a situation of shame and regret right now that seems to great to overcome?  Am I stuck with the pigs somehow, in alienation, wondering what it would be like to “go home”?  Is there a prompting in my heart in this direction?  Is there another person in my life who might be liberated and lifted up if I showed him or her a taste of this same mercy of the Father?