Shining Spirit

I like to watch mystery series or movies on TV. It’s fun to see if I can figure out the identity of the villain before the detective solves the crime. And one of the things we TV crime solvers look for is motive, what was the reason for the crime. Money? Notoriety? Ego boost? What caused the crime to happen? There’s always a reason, a motive. Then there’s the thing called an ulterior motive, a second level reason, if you like. For instance, someone does something for what appears to be a good reason…generosity, kindness etc…but that’s a smoke-screen. The ulterior motive is hidden and is almost always self-serving.

Francis, in this prayer petition, makes it clear that doing good things for people, caring for someone, must be done for the benefit and blessing of the other not for serf-serving reasons. People of The Way, disciples of Jesus, love others genuinely, honestly, not in order to obtain love themselves.

“O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be loved as to love.” No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. We give away what we have been given. We love because we have been and are loved by God, in great abundance. Might be as good idea to have a regularly scheduled motive check-up…you think?

“O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be understood as to understand…”

On page 37 of the How To Raise Children parents’ manual, it says: When dealing with an obstinate child, position yourself directly in front of the offender, appear to squint your eyes, thus furrowing your brow, and while shaking your finger in his or her face, say: “Do you UNDERSTAND me?”

Funny thing. I bump into people all the time who think I’m their child…big people, grown up people who tore page 37 out of the manual and carry it in their pockets. Their goal in life, it seems, is to convince the rest of us that they are right, informed, authoritative and commissioned to correct to their way of thinking or behaving. “I” “Me” and “My” are their favorite words.

Not so with Francis in his prayer. Lord, he prays, help me understand before being understood; help me listen before lecturing. It’s not that what Francis had to say was unimportant; it was that his love and concern for his neighbor caused him to think of neighbor first, self second. Sound familiar? Francis learned that from a man named Jesus.

Today, no matter who crosses your path: listen first, speak second. Listen with your heart. Hear the other person before you correct or set him straight. That’s the way of Jesus. It’s called loving your neighbor as yourself. Do you UNDERSTAND me?

Afterthought: Some people think page 37 works with spouses. Not recommended. But you didn’t hear it from me.

The prayer of St. Francis shifts midway through from “Lord, help me do these things” to “Master, help me do them for the right reason; not for self-serving reasons.” Here is the transition wording: “O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek…..” and then follows the specific issue: “to be consoled as to console.” Francis is quite clear: Lord, don’t let me do these good things for my own benefit, but for the benefit of others.

“to be consoled as to console…” People who follow the Way of Jesus console, comfort, care for a sister or brother because they hurt, not because I hurt. My comforting is directed toward your pain, not my own. In the manner of Jesus, I give myself to your need, not my need. It’s called Selflessness, a hallmark of the life of Jesus and a challenge to 21st century disciples.

By all means, take care of yourself; your personal needs are important. But when you reach out today to encourage, renew, comfort your neighbor, do it because they need it, not because you need it. Give the consolation away freely, no strings attached.

“that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console.”

Sadness is a state of being for many people. They live in it, see life through it, and assume that this is the way it’s going to be from now on. And when this happens, sadness takes over, takes control, always whispering in your ear: times are bad and they won’t get better. And then one day, while out for a lonely, sad walk, you crest the hill, look down into the valley and gasp at what you see. The whole valley floor is covered in bright yellow flowers; not a few, but hundreds and hundreds. And without thinking, you run down the hill into the sea of yellow and dive into the beauty like you would a swimming pool. The aroma of the good earth, the fragrance of the shimmering flowers, the shock of it all…something creates a feeling of deep joy. You lay on your back, looking at a bright blue sky, surrounded by yellow flowers dancing in the gentle breeze. The whole valley seems to sing out its welcome. And you think to yourself: the cause of my sadness still exists, but I choose to live with it instead of in it. I can live with sadness if I must because now I have felt the touch of joy, the embrace of a gift. Sadness will finally give up and slip away, but joy lasts. Joy endures.

I wonder where all these beautiful flowers came from? you wonder to yourself. How was this valley transformed into a place of healing and joy. Here’s the answer: not long ago a man came through the barren valley with large bags carried on a wagon. And as he walked back and forth in the valley, he threw seeds into the air, and the air carried them all over the land and dropped them like a blanket. And rain came as the man left the valley, almost as if timed, and covered the seeds in nourishing water. And the earth opened her arms and welcomed the moist seeds, embraced them until they could contain themselves no longer and burst into joyful yellow flowers.

And then they waited. Waited for you to come along. How grateful we are to the One who creates the seeds and to the one who scatters them.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…where there is sadness, let me sow joy…”

When I was misinformed, mistaken, my friend said: “Let me throw some light on this subject…” and he spoke truth. His words were honest and filled with concern for me in the darkness of my confusion. He set me free. Light does that.

When Francis wrote this line in his amazing prayer, surely in the back of his mind was he sentence: “I am the Light of the world…” It’s this Light that Francis wants to sow in all corners of darkness. But how? I know the answer; the real question is: do I really want to do it? In the face of intentional or accidental darkness do I want to speak truth. In the deep darkness, do I really want to be light. Speak light. Be light. Weak knees and frightened minds are strengthened by The Spirit to carry Light into darkness. The darkness of untruth, fear, guilt or shame can become so comfortable that it becomes our “normal”, the way things are supposed to be. Thank God for someone like Francis who comes along with a seed bag full of Light. Thank God for you. Here’s your seed bag. Plant some Light today.

Lord…where there is darkness, let me spread Light so that you can cause the earth to blossom in radiant life. Amen

I can handle sadness because there is still a glimmer of hope. I can still see a little light ahead. Sadness comes to visit often but doesn’t move in like a permanent guest. Sadness causes me to pause, not to sit down and stare at the floor.

Despair, though, is different. Despair is the absence of hope. It is that hollow feeling like someone has ripped your heart out. Despair moves in and turns out all the lights. Francis, in his beautiful prayer, knows that the antidote for despair is hope. Just say the word: “Hope” and you feel your lungs move a little and you hear a faint heartbeat. Hope says: “it’s possible.”

What a wonderful gift you and I can give to the world, not an artificial “everything will be ok” but a redeeming, renewing hope based on a promise and a presence. Love is the seedbag from which seeds of hope can fall onto the dry ground of despair . When that happens, flowers bloom.

Once I was afraid and alone, and my friend came to me and sat by my side through the worst moments. A seed was planted. I lost my job and had no way to care for my family. A neighbor brought groceries and an envelope containing cash to help us get by. A seed. When my loved one died and grief was overwhelming, she called every day to check on me and was always available. Seed planted. I laughed at someone who found strength in faith; not for me. Then my friend told me what he called “good news” and slowly it all made sense. Over time, I learned so much about life from his faith explanations. Seeds.

Lord, where there is doubt or uncertainty or ignorance or indifference, give me the courage to plant seeds. Allow me to be a seed bearer for you and I will plant if you will bring the growth.

St. Francis would never claim to be the Master Gardner, just the seed bearer, the planter. By word, witness and work. May your life today, what you say and what you do, bring someone closer to the garden of God’s grace.

Words have sharp edges. Words cut deep. Sometimes words leave scars, if not on the body, certainly on the soul. In fact, some of us are still bleeding from the unkind, thoughtless word. Francis of Assisi, the author of this beautiful prayer, knows about injury caused by mean words spoken by mean-spirited people. He felt the sting of injury over and over again. But instead of seeking revenge, instead of plotting to get even, he prayed for the capacity to forgive . “where there is injury, (let me sow) pardon.”

There’s a pretty good chance that someone reading these words remembers the hurt and still carries that stone around with them. It’s time to put it down; also that stone of retribution. Let them go. Healing will come when I acknowledge my pain and join St. Francis in sowing seeds of pardon. I know; life has taught us to carry a sack full of rocks in case I meet that person who injured me, but Jesus, the man to whom Francis gave his life, teaches pardon and forgiveness. The sack of rocks gets heavier and heavier as revenge-filled time goes by. Pardon given is the doorway to freedom.

Why not make today the beginning of personal freedom? Put the rocks down; pick up the bag of seeds.
Sow pardon. Make the call, write the note, knock on the door and give to the one who opens it a bouquet of pardon. “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon.”

Hate: an intense dislike; an intense feeling of ill-will.

Sometimes it starts with a thoughtless comment, a word taken the wrong way. Maybe it is an intentional slur or a calculated action taken that causes pain. Something triggers hate. Something pokes the sleeping monster and it growls back.

Francis recognized that the antidote to hatred is love, but that most of the time, love needed time to put down some roots and grow into the hatred. Like sowing seeds; they don’t come up overnight. Love planted needs tending, maybe for a long time, but the seeds of love finally blossom.

Francis knew also that love has to be planted in the midst of intense dislike, where it lives and flourishes. Seeds of love don’t do much if they are contained in journals or literary publications. Love has to look hate in the eye, stand in the place where hate appears to be winning, live in hate’s neighborhood if it is to transform. I once knew a man who said we ought to love “promiscuously.” Lavish love, sown in hate’s backyard, will eventually produce the inevitable transformation. Nobody said living like this is easy. There’s a precedent.

It is said that Francis of Assisi gave away everything he had…his standing in the community, name, personal wealth, friends, even his family. Legend has it that he stripped out of his elegant robes, a public spectacle, and walked about from life into Life. His heart was changed and he changed the world. Like Jesus, Francis took the form of a servant and called others to his side. Out of those efforts and on behalf of the lost in his time, Francis produced this remarkable prayer that has borne his name forever…The Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. Reflect on these magnificent words with me:

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…”

The first word of the prayer reveals that Francis is no longer bound to rich family life, wealth, or power. Francis has a “Lord” who gives life and is life. Francis no longer belongs to himself. “Make me…” Transform me! Reshape me! Shape the clay any way you desire, not into more abundance but into new poverty. “An instrument” What instrument would you be if you had the choice? Francis became the soft, authentic, completely honest music of the harp, truly an instrument of peace. “Your” peace, not mine.

Begin this day praying the words of Francis and then again and again and again throughout the morning and into the heat of the day. Reflect on the words, be with them until they quietly become your own word. May peace find you and embrace all your busy-ness.