The Secret of Advent. Our Common Humanity. December 5, 2018

Transcription

1 December 5, 2018 The Secret of Advent Advent for us means a readiness to have eternity and time meet not on in Christ, but in us, in Man, in our life, in our world, in our time. If we are to enter into the beginning of the new, we must accept the death of the old. The beginning, therefore, is the end. Or, rather, to be more faithful to the complexity of life, we must accept the end in the beginning, both together. The secret of the Advent mystery is then the awareness that I begin where I end because Christ begins where I end. In more familiar terms: I live to Christ when I die to myself. I begin to live to Christ when I come to the end or the limit if what divides me from my fellow man: when I am willing to step beyond the end, cross the frontier, become a stranger, enter into the wilderness which is not myself, where I do not breathe the air or hear the familiar, comforting racket of my own city, where I am alone and defenseless in the desert of God. -Thomas Merton Seasons of Celebration Our Common Humanity Wednesday, December 9, 2015 at 4:50am. Suffering is a reality. To understand suffering is to learn compassion and forgiveness. Jesus makes it perfectly clear that compassion is to be our primary spiritual practice. My film When Did I See You Hungry?, which was narrated by Martin Sheen, contains this line: Compassion is far removed from pity and sympathy. Compassion grows out of an awareness of our common humanity. I understand the truth of that statement much more today than I did when I wrote it more than 15 years ago. There is a Buddhist dharma (teaching) which I came across recently that captures the same idea: The worst enemy of compassion is called sympathy. Sympathy feels so badly for that poor fellow, as if he were different from us in any way. By actually living among the poor in Haiti after the earthquake, living in the same dreadful conditions as they did, I came to see myself in my neighbors. We really were no different; we shared the same common humanity. I meet the spirit of the broken Christ in the harsh, barren landscape of unjust poverty, in dark places where Christ still has no home. Port-au-Prince, Haiti (2010)

2 You don t need to go to Haiti or Africa to experience the broken Christ. God is on a street corner, at the intersection of everyday life in your own neighborhood. If attentive, we can feel the Divine Presence in a gentle breeze as God passes by on the street, often in a distressing disguise, hoping for an encounter. In the ordinary moments of the day, the extraordinary loving presence of God is reaching out to us. We do not see or respond to the unjust suffering of the poor because we are distracted by a torrent of trivialities. Our lives are swept up in a perpetual hustle and bustle as we hurry here and there striving to make progress in our endless quest for more and more. On a deeper level, we are slow to compassion because we are quick to exploit others for our own gain. As we prepare to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, it is important to recognize that peace begins with compassion. As we grow in compassion, we are able to see more clearly the beauty of all life and we also increase our desire to transform everything ugly into something beautiful. There is no doubt that there is a lot of ugliness in the world today. The news is filled with it. But I think there is actually far more beauty if you really look you can see it. The headlines of the last few weeks, from Paris to San Bernardino, creates a feeling of hopelessness. It feels as if the world is spinning out of control. Some politicians are quick to exploit the tangible fear in the air by creating deeper divisions in our society. Yet in this holy season of Advent we are supposed to look to the future with hope which is not easy. But we follow Jesus, and he lives outside the city of conventional thought, beyond the bounds of conventional wisdom and Jesus says there is hope. The Certainty of Hope The certainty of Christian hope lies beyond passion and beyond knowledge. Therefore, we must sometimes expect our hope to come in conflict with darkness, desperation and ignorance. Therefore, too, we must remember that Christian optimism is not a perpetual sense of euphoria, an indefectible comfort in whose experience neither anguish nor tragedy can possible exist. We must not strive to maintain a clime of optimism by the mere suppression of tragic realities. Christian optimism lies in a hope of victory that transcends all tragedy: a victory in which we pass beyond tragedy to glory with Christ crucified and risen. -Thomas Merton Seasons of Celebration Christmas Cards On Monday, I received a box from Texas. I did not recognize the name of the sender. When I opened the box, it was filled with Christmas cards one for each child at Santa Chiara. Some weeks ago, my friend Nancy from the First Presbyterian Church asked me to send her a list with the names of all the kids. Enclosed was a letter from Linda Himes. She wrote: Dear Gerry, We are the Boomer s Class with the First Presbyterian Church in Fort Worth, Texas. We think what you are doing is absolutely wonderful. How blessed the children are and I m

3 sure they make you feel blessed. One of our Sunday school members brought her grandson with her and he helped sign cards as well. He did a great job, I might add. After writing a little something about the church, she wrote: I hated to hear of your stress with the protesting in the streets. I m sure that is very stressful and dangerous. We keep you in our thoughts and prayers and pray for a safe Christmas, for you, your family and the children I was really touched by the letter and all the cards. While we live in stressful and divisive times, it is good to realize that there is much goodness in the world. Getting the Point I ve been thinking about the problems with my breathing, which are starting to really concern me. Before five years ago, I never had any lung problems. The problems began in 2013 while I was making film on the homeless in Los Angeles for Catholic Charities. I had done long feature films on the homeless in Philadelphia, Detroit, and Los Angeles prior to that, and I really had no interest in making the film. But Catholic Charities all but pleaded with me to make a film for them and I eventually agreed to do so. The film I wrote and directed was titled The Wings of Love. Prior to making that film, I had been exposed to dreadful and toxic environments over and over again

4 all over the world and had no ill-effects from being so close to so many sick and even dying people with all kinds of serious diseases. With one exception: the dark blotch on my face first appeared within weeks of being in India. It is a rare, noncancerous condition that had to be connected to the weeks I spent among the outcasts of India. Before making the film for Catholic Charities, I normally spent anywhere from 10 to 14 days filming on location. But with The Wings of Love, because it was filmed in my city, I spent far more time among the homeless. I vividly recall spending many hours in the rainy, cold with a homeless couple who lived under a freeway overpass. They kept warm by the heat from barrel of burning garbage. One day, my breathing began to become more and more labored, to the point where I had to struggle for each breath. The homeless couple told me about a clinic that treated the homeless and the truly desperate poor, many of whom were undocumented migrants. I had no doctor, no insurance so I went. The waiting room was jammed with very sick, very poor people. I patiently waited my turn. The doctor was born and educated in Egypt. There was something about him that I instantly liked. As he listened to my lungs, he said, This is not good. No kidding. He said the fastest way to relieve the problem was by treating me with acupuncture. I suddenly thought he was a wacko. He sensed my skepticism. But he said after the acupuncture treatment he would also administer more traditional western medicine. He succeeded in getting me to try it. He stuck a dozen or so needles into my back. He then told me to just sit and relax and he would be back in 20 minutes. When he returned, he removed the needles and told me to take a deep breath. It was amazing: I had no trouble breathing. He did give me a prescription for inhalers. I continued to see him while making the film. Not long afterward, I began spending extended periods of time in Haiti and the breathing problems returned with a new forcefulness. Once after getting off a plane from Haiti, I was unable to even walk. A friend of mine who is a medical professional and a member of my parish at the time made an appointment for me with the top pulmonologist in the area. I saw him on a regular basis as he developed a maintenance plan that worked. Once I moved to Florida and was spending more and more time in Haiti, the breathing problems became more and more frequent, to the point that an Uber driver I used actually took me to the doctor I know have. But now that the doctor is suggesting there might be a connection between the lung problem and a pumping issue with my heart, my level of concern is rising. Yesterday, a dear friend wrote me and suggested that I go the Mayo clinic and get a full examination. I m under doctor s orders to relax so I m about to push myself away from the computer and go get a latte with an extra shot of espresso. Ugh I just noticed it is raining. Many people have written me to say the enjoyed the nature photographs I ve shared these past few days, saying it had a calming effect on them. I am glad for that. And so, a few more nature photographs follow

5

6

7