Who not How
AUGUST 16TH, 2009 — 20TH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR
EXODUS 16:2-4, 12-15, THE EYES OF JESUS (by ohn O'Donohue), JOHN 6:51-58
Dear Friends,
In the Gospel Reading today, the hearers find Jesus' words hard to take. He is saying, "I am the living bread come down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." In next week's continuation of the story, many say how can this be, we are not cannibals and they walk away. Jesus turns to Peter and the disciples and says "are you going to walk away, too?" Peter doesn't understand the words any better than those who walked away, but he concentrates on Jesus and says, "Teacher, to whom she we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God." Peter concentrates on the who and not on the how or the what.
That seems like a good way for us to live our lives as well. It helps to concentrate on the who and not the how or what. A man visited every day for a few hours his wife in the nursing home suffering from Alzheimer's. A nursing aide said to him, "I don't know why you spend so much time with her, she doesn't even know who you are." He responded, "I know who she is." Sometimes people are no longer speaking to a family member or friend because of something that was said or done. Is there a way of putting who they are, before what they said or did and build a bridge back to them. (Naturally, some situations, because of the nature of the abuse, may dictate another course of action is best.) So, we, like Peter, may choose to hang in there with Jesus (or with loved one or friend) because we are concentrating on who they are to us. This poem by John O'Donohue, called "The Eyes of Jesus" expresses how Jesus looks at us. We will use it as our second reading this weekend.
The Eyes of Jesus
I imagine the eyes of Jesus were harvest brown,
The light of their gazing suffused with the seasons:
The shadow of winter, the mind of spring,
The blues of summer, and amber of harvest.
A gaze that is perfect sister to the kindness
that dwells in his beautiful hands.
The eyes of Jesus gaze on us, stirring in the heart's clay
The confidence of seasons that never lose their way to harvest.
This gaze knows the signature of our heartbeat,
the first glimmer from the dawn that dreamed our minds,
The crevices where thoughts grow long before
the longing in the bone sends them towards the mind's eye,
The artistry of the emptiness that knows to slow the hunger
of outside things until they weave into the twilight side of the heart,
A gaze full of all that is still future looking out for us
to glimpse the jeweled light in winter stone,
Quickening the eyes that look at us
to see through to where words are blind to say what we would love,
Forever falling softly on our faces, His gaze plies the soul with light,
Laying down a luminous layer beneath our brief and brittle days
until the appointed dawn comes assured and harvest deft
To unravel the last black knot
And we are back home
in the house that we have never left.
Amen.
The light of their gazing suffused with the seasons:
The shadow of winter, the mind of spring,
The blues of summer, and amber of harvest.
A gaze that is perfect sister to the kindness
that dwells in his beautiful hands.
The eyes of Jesus gaze on us, stirring in the heart's clay
The confidence of seasons that never lose their way to harvest.
This gaze knows the signature of our heartbeat,
the first glimmer from the dawn that dreamed our minds,
The crevices where thoughts grow long before
the longing in the bone sends them towards the mind's eye,
The artistry of the emptiness that knows to slow the hunger
of outside things until they weave into the twilight side of the heart,
A gaze full of all that is still future looking out for us
to glimpse the jeweled light in winter stone,
Quickening the eyes that look at us
to see through to where words are blind to say what we would love,
Forever falling softly on our faces, His gaze plies the soul with light,
Laying down a luminous layer beneath our brief and brittle days
until the appointed dawn comes assured and harvest deft
To unravel the last black knot
And we are back home
in the house that we have never left.
Amen.
(by John O’Donohue)
We invite you to come and pray with us at Spirit of Life and share in the experience of who each of us are which graces our time together. We are a Catholic community where every voice is heard, and women and men are unafraid to acknowledge the equality of women and men; and to embrace feminine as well as masculine... and beyond... images of God. As a community, we try wholeheartedly to "be Christ" to one another, to tend to the needs of one another, and to those in need in our world. Together, we celebrate our belief that we are being transformed by God's grace as we gather together in prayer. We warmly invite you to come and gather with us at our Table, and join in our experience of the "kin-dom" of God. We are an inclusive, open, affirming and interactive community, deeply committed to being a people of "justice and joy."
With prayers that you will know God's abundant love for you this day,
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