Retreat Homily for July 10, 2011 (First day of repose)

Some of you may have noticed that I have been involved in a small landscaping project here at the retreat house. I would be very easy for me to talk about planting seeds and helping the young shoots to get a good start on life. I could easily relate the Gospel and the first reading to your retreat. In fact, it is more than fitting. Many insidious vines threaten to kill the new life that has begun. I want the neophytes to have a flourishing life and to blossom into all they are to be. I want what lies underneath a prickly thicket to have a good shot at life. New life needs a chance to start out well. I think you have a good grasp of the Gospel parable: that our active reception of the words of Jesus is the good soil that helps his seeds take root; that the seeds are the words announcing the kingdom of heaven, and that we are open to growth.

However, while the word has been taking root in our lives, it only comes about with great groaning and pain. We've experienced tremendous discomfort this week and we might not even have words to explain the reasons for it yet. We just know that we have a great yearning to live rightly with God, to let our true selves emerge and flourish, to let the grand chaos that is within us be tamed. Sometimes we feel like the Gerasene demoniac who is ravaged by the tumult and turmoil of his invisible chains that bind us so insidiously that we don't even know they are there. Their origins dumbfound us. Other times, we can pinpoint a specific incident in our lives, but we can't see these moments with new insights that will break the cycles that we are doomed to repeat. We know we need a liberator because though we've tried hard throughout life, we cannot rid ourselves of that which debilitates us and paralyzes us. We groan and moan and cry out and grunt. This is good.

Paul, in Romans, tells us that all creation experiences futility as it yearns to be free from slavery to corruption. We groan to be rid of something at the same time we yearn for something. Though our sighing may be from our desperation, are we able to be comfortable with our discomfort? If we know that this pain is for some good for us, perhaps we are willing to endure it and maybe embrace it. If we believe Paul, Christ is working with us and for us and side-by-side with us, to liberate us for the glorious freedom he has in store for the children of God and all of creation. Knowing that Christ is laboring for us can help us put our anxieties in perspective. He can give us some comfort. If we are tense and all bollixed up, we may not be able to hear his gentle, whispering invitations. If we are focused on our woes and turned it towards ourselves, we may not be able to turn towards him and gaze into his eyes and see his facial expressions and notice his body language. If we are more relaxed with him, we'll not be deaf to his call and we'll be able to glimpse the expectant kingdom into which he invites us.

Relax today. Let your moaning and groaning continue. It is good growth. A seed that is planted in the soil will strain and stretch until it breaks through its hard casing to sprout forth its tiny shoot that emerges into a new and exciting life. So it is with you. Be patient with yourself. Be gentle. Be patient with Christ. Trust that new life is forming within you and that it brings future promise. We cannot do everything and that may give us some freedom and relief. It allows us to do some small thing, and to do it well. We have to trust that we will always be incomplete, always straining, in suspense, always moving forward, onwards and upwards. We can take but a step along the way, nice and slowly, which may give the Lord a chance to enter into our muck and do the rest.

We may want to get to our goal right away - without any delay. After all, shouldn't we be there yet? It has been a whole 10 days! "What am I doing wrong?," I ask myself. We are impatient as we move towards something unknown, but doesn't all progress take a long time? We pass through stages of wavering instability and we have to let our new insights permeate into our unconsciousness and shape themselves with the charity and nourishment of Christ.

Our cries rise from out of the depths. No head logic, no reasoning will ever satisfy these yearnings. We only have to speak of our feelings and desires to the one who is calling us into something new. Christ will hold us in our pain. He will hold our pain so we can step forward - maybe stumble forward - into his new creation. Give the Lord the benefit of believing that his hand is leading you. If you cannot utter any words, let your groaning speak for you. Raise up your open palms to the Lord and let him take you by the hand into the glorious new freedom that awaits you. It is a place of no resignation, no despair, no darkness. We wish we could run there. Let's go forth boldly and with great courage. Let's go slowly so we can enjoy not only the destination, but the journey too.