An idealistic young priest once visited Thomas Merton at the Trappist monastery in Kentucky and spoke to him about his agony over social justice issues. “I know it’s wrong,” he said, “and sometimes I can hardly face myself in the mirror for going along with things as they are. Yet I don’t know what to do. What can I do?” “Don’t do a damned thing,” replied Merton.
“Just take the time to become what you profess to be. Then you will know what to do.” If Merton had less credentials in the area of social justice, his answer could easily be seen as a rationalization, an excuse to escape involvement. Given his record, however, it is a profound answer. The answer of a saint to the agonizing question: what can I do in the area of social justice? What can we do?...
When we read in the biblical narratives about sweating, dancing Kings, wives who “despise” their husbands, sociopaths who grant sick wishes to their daughters at birthday parties, we are not reading some “spiritual” narrative, we are reading a flesh and blood narrative which is their “spirit.” Deeply flawed people do horrible tings, sometimes, but do glorious things after an encounter with the jarring grace of the living God. (David’s whole story, which we are following this summer in the first alternative reading in the lectionary, is as full and complete example as there is.) We see ourselves in these narratives, warts and all. We see ourselves, too, in the occasional act of generosity that advances God’s justice in the world...
There's a story about a troubled mother who had a daughter who was addicted to sweets. One day she approached Gandhi, explained the problem to him and asked whether he might talk to the young girl. Gandhi replied: “Bring your daughter to me in three weeks time and I will speak to her.” After three weeks, the mother brought her daughter to him. He took the young girl aside and spoke to her about the harmful effects of eating sweets excessively and urged her to abandon her bad habit. The mother thanked Gandhi for this advice and then asked him: “But why didn't you speak to her three weeks ago?” Gandhi replied: “Because three weeks ago, I was still addicted to sweets.”
And there's the lesson: We must do more than just point out the right road to others, we must be on that road ourselves...
I recently re-read parts of a book written by Henri Nouwen, a Catholic priest, who is well known for his writings on spirituality and theology. The book is “Life of the Beloved,” subtitled Spiritual Living in a Secular World. This book has certainly helped me in my understanding more about what it means to be beloved. We are intimately loved long before our parents, teachers, spouses, children, and friends loved or wounded us. That’s the truth of our lives. That’s the truth we need to claim for ourselves – we are God’s beloved. Even though it is true that we are the beloved we must continually work at becoming the beloved...
(Resources listed here reference more than one reading and are normally shorter than the resources listed under the individual texts above. If you are looking to link the readings, check these resources.)
(Resources listed here reference more than one reading and are normally shorter than the resources listed under the individual texts above. If you are looking to link the readings, check these resources.)
(Resources listed here reference more than one reading and are normally shorter than the resources listed under the individual texts above. If you are looking to link the readings, check these resources.)
(Resources listed here reference more than one reading and are normally shorter than the resources listed under the individual texts above. If you are looking to link the readings, check these resources.)
(Resources listed here reference more than one reading and are normally shorter than the resources listed under the individual texts above. If you are looking to link the readings, check these resources.)
