A Contemplative Moment: Seeing the World with New Eyes

"The Desert: Transformation"

from The Eremitic Life

by

Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam

[[The Christian anchorite is not a gnostic, whose isolation from the world takes precedence in order that [she] can secure for [her]self the possibility of reaching "the land of pure spirituality". Such an approach is obviously an illusion which, detected too late, will certainly lead all who adopt it to spiritual disaster. Even provided we agree on the illusionary character of the created world, such an assumption may be justified only if we take into account its relativity. It is true that created things can deceive and beguile us, though it is not because they are deceitful all by themselves, but because the human heart, tangled up in webs of sin and greed, is eager to take pleasure and satisfaction in them. The anchorite never gives up and renounces the world of things out of contempt for them. [She] does so in order to achieve the inner space necessary to appreciate their real value and inner beauty.

Leaving the world and inner renunciation are the path to discovering the logic and truth of the created world. Fathoming inner structures and meanings, the hermit realizes still more clearly that the ultimate value of the world is not constituted by the world itself, but it transcends the world soundlessly. What is essential for human being is the perception of things that last and are eternal. What is needed is a certain distance providing space for authentic freedom of mind and heart, in order to perceive the world and all its problems in truth and love, which means in God. By finding the whole creation at its very Source, the hermit becomes the person able to contemplate. The hermit's contemplation of reality is [her] special way of perceiving it through the eyes of faith. This kind of perception reveals to [her]  the rays of God's magnificence and glory. . . .This truth, however, should be understood and proclaimed not just verbally or intellectually, but above all by means of humbly accepting the gift of our own existence. The acceptance of the gift brings about the inner necessity of giving it back to its donor in love. The need to make such a sacrifice is the essence of  Christian ascetic life and inner conversion.]]

Note: I chose this reading from Cornelius Wencel for several reasons. The main one has to do with the Solemnity of the Ascension and the way it demands that we learn to see everything with new eyes. The disciples had to get their eyes out of the clouds and onto the world newly constituted around them. In Christ, they (and we) are gradually taught to see all of reality with the eyes of an artist like Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs (see Solemnity of the Ascension). 

Reflection for the Solemnity of the Ascension: Seeing our New Creation with the Eyes of God (Reprise)

Sister Laurel O'Neal, Er Dio

In one of the Star Trek Next Generation episodes, Commander Geordi La Forge and Ensign Ro Larren are caught in a transporter accident. While returning to the ship, a surge of power or radiation causes them to "materialize" back on the Enterprise in a way where they cannot be seen or heard. The transporter pad looks empty; they seem to have been lost. Neither can they interact in their usual way with the ordinary world of space and time; for instance, they can walk through walls, reach through control panels or other "solid" objects, and stand between two people who are conversing without being perceived. The dimension of reality Geordi and Ro now inhabit interpenetrates the other more everyday world of space and time, and interfaces with it in some way without being identical with it. In other words, their new existence is both continuous and discontinuous with their old existence; Geordi and Ro are both present and absent at the same time. In Star Trek parlance this new way of being embodied is called, ”phased” -- because it is a presence slightly “out of phase with our own”. While their friends believe that Geordi and Ro are gone forever and begin to grieve, Geordi and Ro are still vitally present and they leave signs of this presence everywhere --- if only these can be recognized and their friends empowered to see them as they are.


Especially, I think this story helps us begin to imagine and think about what has been so important during all the readings we have heard during this Easter Season and is celebrated in a new and even more mysterious way with the feast of the Ascension. In these stories Jesus is present in a way which is both like and unlike, continuous and discontinuous with, normal existence; it is a presence which can be described as, and even mistaken for absence. Today’s first reading from Acts describes a difficult and demanding “departure” or “absence” but one which has the disciples misguidedly looking up into the skies --- something the angels upbraid them for. Meanwhile, the consoling and hope-filled word we are left with at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel conveys the promise of an abiding presence which will never leave us. Jesus affirms, [[And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.]] In these readings, absence and Presence are held together in a strange tension.

We know that Resurrection itself represented the coming of something new, a new kind of expanded or less limited incarnation, a new embodied presence or materiality where Jesus can be encountered and recognized with the eyes of faith. What is made clear time and again as Jesus picnicked on the beach with his disciples, invited them to touch him, or even when he warns Mary of Magdala not to cling to him in this form, is that his resurrection is bodily. Yes, it is different from the kind of materiality Jesus had before his death. He is no longer mortal and so we are told he walks through walls and breaches locked doors or otherwise comes and goes without anyone seeing how. The gospel writers want us to understand that Jesus was not merely "raised" in our minds and hearts (though we will certainly find him there!); neither is the risen Jesus disembodied spirit or a naked immortal soul. Finally, he has not relinquished his humanity. God has raised the human Jesus to a new bodily life which is both earthly and heavenly.

Only in Luke’s version of the story is Ascension spoken of directly or treated as a separate event occurring 40 days after the resurrection. (Mark's Gospel originally ended short of the Ascension story.) Here Luke shifts our attention from Jesus’ continuing earthly but mysterious presence to his having been “taken up bodily into heaven”. But how can this be? We might be forgiven for thinking that surely the Star Trek story is easier to believe than this fantastical and incredible tale on which we base our lives! So, what is Luke doing here? What are we really celebrating on this feast?

What Luke and his original readers knew was that in the Scriptures, "Heaven” is a careful Semitic way of speaking about God’s own self --- just as the presence of clouds in today’s reading from Acts refers to the mysteriousness of God’s presence. Heaven is not a remote place in space one can locate with the proper astrometric instruments and coordinates; nor are unbelieving cosmonauts and hard-nosed empiricists the only ones to make such a mistake. After all, as we hear today, even the disciples need to have their attention drawn away from searching the skies and brought back to earth where Jesus will truly be found! Heaven refers to God’s own life shared with others.


Luke tells the story in a way that helps us see that in Christ God has not only conquered death, but (he) has made room for humanity itself (and in fact, for all of creation) within (his) own Divine life. Christ is the “first fruits” of this new way of existing where heaven (Divine Life) and earth (created life) now interpenetrate one another. God is present in our world of space and time now in a way he could not have been apart from Jesus’ openness and responsiveness (what the Scriptures call his “obedience”), and Jesus is present in a way he could not be without existing in God. Jesus’ own ministry among us continues as more and more, Jesus draws us each and all into that same Divine life in the power of the Holy Spirit of the Father and Son.


St John uses the puzzling language of mutual indwelling to describe this reality: "The Father is in me and I am in him" . . ." we know that we abide in him and he is in us." When theologians in both Western and Eastern churches speak of this whole dynamic, their summary is paradoxical and shocking: [[God became human so that humans might become gods]]. And as one contemporary Bible scholar puts the matter, “We who are baptized into Christ's death are citizens of heaven colonizing the earth.” As such, we are also called on to develop the eyes of faith that allow us to see this new world as it is shot through with the promise of fullness. Some of us experienced what this means Ascension week 2020.

Three years ago Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs visited our parish, and gave us a virtual tour of his Camden ‘hood by sharing the work he had drawn and painted from Holy Week onward during his own sheltering in place. Many of us got a chance to see the streets he walked every day through his eyes, that is, through the eyes of faith and love. What Bro Mickey showed us was not an idealized Camden without violence, poverty, suffering or struggle; those were all present. But through his eyes we saw the greenhouse cathedral of a neighborhood garden, the communion lines and Eucharistic Presence of the community food pantry, the way of the cross of a crippled man as he limped up the street, a broken and bold statue of Mary standing as a symbol of perseverance and hope despite everything, and another more contemporary version made even more beautiful by a prostitute's gift of a single flower. And everywhere reality that could have been accurately drawn in harsh tones of pain and struggle were more accurately shown awash with life, beauty, and hope splashed in colors of brilliant orange and purple, gold and green --- the colors of life, royalty, holiness, newness and potential.

Today’s Feast is not so much about the departure or absence of Jesus as it is his new, transfigured, universal, and even cosmic presence which in turn transforms everything it touches with the life of God. Again, as Matthew affirms in today's Gospel reading, [[. . . Behold, I am with you always, until the end of time.]] The world we live in is not the one that existed before Jesus’ death, and resurrection. Heaven and earth now interpenetrate one another in a way that may sound suspiciously to some like bad science fiction. We know its truth, however, whenever we can see this New Creation with the eyes of faith and love --- that is, whenever we can see ourselves and the world around us with the very eyes of God. It is the only way we will become disciples ourselves --- or truly make disciples of all nations.

Reflection for the Solemnity of the Ascension: Seeing Our New Creation with the Eyes of God (Reprise)

In one of the Star Trek Next Generation episodes, Commander Geordi La Forge and Ensign Ro Larren are caught in a transporter accident. While returning to the ship, a surge of power or radiation causes them to "materialize" back on the Enterprise in a way where they cannot be seen or heard. The transporter pad looks empty; they seem to have been lost. Neither can they interact in their usual way with the ordinary world of space and time; for instance, they can walk through walls, reach through control panels or other "solid" objects, and stand between two people who are conversing without being perceived. The dimension of reality Geordi and Ro now inhabit interpenetrates the other more everyday world of space and time, interfaces with it in some way without being identical with it. In other words, their new existence is both continuous and discontinuous with their old existence; Geordi and Ro are both present and absent at the same time. In Star Trek parlance this new way of being embodied is called, ”phased” -- because it is a presence slightly “out of phase with our own”. While their friends believe that Geordi and Ro are gone forever and begin to grieve, Geordi and Ro are still vitally present and they leave signs of this presence everywhere --- if only these can be recognized and their friends empowered to see them as they are.


Especially, I think this story helps us begin to imagine and think about what has been so important during all the readings we have heard during this Easter Season and is celebrated in a new and even more mysterious way with the feast of the Ascension. In these stories Jesus is present in a way which is both like and unlike, continuous and discontinuous with, normal existence; it is a presence which can be described as, and even mistaken for absence. Today’s first reading from Acts describes a difficult and demanding “departure” or “absence” but one which has the disciples misguidedly looking up into the skies --- something the angels upbraid them for. Meanwhile, the consoling and hope-filled word we are left with at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel conveys the promise of an abiding presence which will never leave us. Jesus affirms, [[And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.]] In these readings, absence and Presence are held together in a strange tension.

We know that Resurrection itself represented the coming of something new, a new kind of expanded or less limited incarnation, a new embodied presence or materiality where Jesus can be encountered and recognized with the eyes of faith. What is made clear time and again as Jesus picnicked on the beach with his disciples, invited them to touch him, or even when he warns Mary of Magdala not to cling to him in this form, is that his resurrection is bodily. Yes, it is different from the kind of materiality Jesus had before his death. He is no longer mortal and so we are told he walks through walls and breaches locked doors or otherwise comes and goes without anyone seeing how. The gospel writers want us to understand that Jesus was not merely "raised" in our minds and hearts (though we will certainly find him there!); neither is the risen Jesus disembodied spirit or a naked immortal soul. Finally, he has not relinquished his humanity. God has raised the human Jesus to a new bodily life which is both earthly and heavenly.

Only in Luke’s version of the story is Ascension spoken of directly or treated as a separate event occurring 40 days after the resurrection. (Mark's Gospel originally ended short of the Ascension story.) Here Luke shifts our attention from Jesus’ continuing earthly but mysterious presence to his having been “taken up bodily into heaven”. But how can this be? We might be forgiven for thinking that surely the Star Trek story is easier to believe than this fantastical and incredible tale on which we base our lives! So, what is Luke doing here? What are we really celebrating on this feast?

What Luke and his original readers knew was that in the Scriptures, "Heaven” is a careful Semitic way of speaking about God’s own self --- just as the presence of clouds in today’s reading from Acts refers to the mysteriousness of God’s presence. Heaven is not a remote location in space one can locate with the proper astrometric instruments and coordinates; nor are unbelieving cosmonauts and hard-nosed empiricists the only ones to make such a mistake. After all, as we hear today, even the disciples need to have their attention drawn away from searching the skies and brought back to earth where Jesus will truly be found! Heaven refers to God’s own life shared with others.


Luke is telling the story in a way which helps us see that in Christ God has not only conquered death, but (he) has made room for humanity itself (and in fact, for all of creation) within (his) own Divine life. Christ is the “first fruits” of this new way of existing where heaven (Divine Life) and earth (created life) now interpenetrate one another. God is present in our world of space and time now in a way he could not have been apart from Jesus’ openness and responsiveness (what the Scriptures call his “obedience”), and Jesus is present in a way he could not be without existing in God. Jesus’ own ministry among us continues as more and more, Jesus draws us each and all into that same Divine life in the power of the Holy Spirit of the Father and Son.


St John uses the puzzling language of mutual indwelling to describe this reality: "The Father is in me and I am in him" . . ." we know that we abide in him and he is in us." When theologians in both Western and Eastern churches speak of this whole dynamic, their summary is paradoxical and shocking: [[God became human so that humans might become gods]]. And as one contemporary Bible scholar puts the matter, “We who are baptized into Christ's death are citizens of heaven colonizing the earth.” As such, we are also called on to develop the eyes of faith that allow us to see this new world as it is shot through with the promise of fullness. Some of us experienced what this means just this week.

On Wednesday evening Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs, gave us a virtual tour of his Camden ‘hood by sharing the work he had drawn and painted from Holy Week onward during his own sheltering in place. Many of us got a chance to see through his eyes, that is, through the eyes of faith and love. What Bro Mickey showed us was not an idealized Camden without violence, poverty, suffering or struggle; those were all present. But through his eyes we saw the greenhouse cathedral of a neighborhood garden, the communion lines  and eucharistic Presence of the community food pantry, the way of the cross of a crippled man as he limped up the street, a broken and bold statue of Mary standing as a symbol of perseverance and hope despite everything, and another more contemporary version made even more beautiful by a prostitute's gift of a single flower. And everywhere reality that could have been accurately drawn in harsh tones of pain and struggle were more accurately shown awash with life, beauty, and hope splashed in colors of brilliant orange and purple, gold and green, --- the colors of life, royalty, holiness, newness, and potential. 

Today’s Feast is not so much about the departure or absence of Jesus as it is his new transfigured, universal, and even cosmic presence which in turn transforms everything it touches with the life of God. The world we live in is not the one that existed before Jesus’ death, and resurrection. Heaven and earth now interpenetrate one another in a way which may sound suspiciously to some like bad science fiction. We know its truth, however, whenever we can see this New Creation with the eyes of faith and love --- that is, whenever we can see ourselves and the world around us with the very eyes of God. It is the only way we will become disciples ourselves --- or truly make disciples of all nations.

Reflection for Solemnity of the Ascension: Seeing our New Creation with the Eyes of God

In one of the Star Trek Next Generation episodes, Commander Geordi La Forge and Ensign Ro Larren are caught in a transporter accident. While returning to the ship, a surge of power or radiation causes them "materialize" back on the Enterprise in a way where they cannot be seen or heard. The transporter pad looks empty; they seem to have been lost. Neither can they interact in their usual way with the ordinary world of space and time; for instance, they can walk through walls, reach through control panels or other "solid" objects, and stand between two people who are conversing without being perceived. The dimension of reality Geordi and Ro now inhabit interpenetrates the other more everyday world of space and time, interfaces with it in some way without being identical with it. In other words, their new existence is both continuous and discontinuous with their old existence; Geordi and Ro are both present and absent at the same time. In Star Trek parlance this new way of being embodied is called, ”phased” -- because it is a presence slightly “out of phase with our own”. While their friends believe that Geordi and Ro are gone forever and begin to grieve, Geordi and Ro are still vitally present and they leave signs of this presence everywhere --- if only these can be recognized and their friends empowered to see them as they are.


Especially, I think this story helps us begin to imagine and think about what has been so important during all the readings we have heard during this Easter Season and is celebrated in a new and even more mysterious way with the feast of the Ascension. In these stories Jesus is present in a way which is both like and unlike, continuous and discontinuous with, normal existence; it is a presence which can be described as, and even mistaken for absence. Today’s first reading from Acts describes a difficult and demanding “departure” or “absence” but one which has the disciples misguidedly looking up into the skies --- something the angels upbraid them for. Meanwhile, the consoling and hope-filled word we are left with at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel conveys the promise of an abiding presence which will never leave us. Jesus affirms, [[And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.]] In these readings, absence and Presence are held together in a strange tension.

We know that Resurrection itself represented the coming of something new, a new kind of expanded or less limited incarnation, a new embodied presence or materiality where Jesus can be encountered and recognized with the eyes of faith. What is made clear time and again as Jesus picnicked on the beach with his disciples, invited them to touch him, or even when he warns Mary of Magdala not to cling to him in this form, is that his resurrection is bodily. Yes, it is different from the kind of materiality Jesus had before his death. He is no longer mortal and so we are told he walks through walls and breaches locked doors or otherwise comes and goes without anyone seeing how. The gospel writers want us to understand that Jesus was not merely "raised" in our minds and hearts (though we will certainly find him there!); neither is the risen Jesus disembodied spirit or a naked immortal soul. Finally, he has not relinquished his humanity. God has raised the human Jesus to a new bodily life which is both earthly and heavenly.

Only in Luke’s version of the story is Ascension spoken of directly or treated as a separate event occurring 40 days after the resurrection. (Mark's Gospel originally ended short of the Ascension story.) Here Luke shifts our attention from Jesus’ continuing earthly but mysterious presence to his having been “taken up bodily into heaven”. But how can this be? We might be forgiven for thinking that surely the Star Trek story is easier to believe than this fantastical and incredible tale on which we base our lives! So, what is Luke doing here? What are we really celebrating on this feast?

What Luke and his original readers knew was that in the Scriptures, "Heaven” is a careful Semitic way of speaking about God’s own self --- just as the presence of clouds in today’s reading from Acts refers to the mysteriousness of God’s presence. Heaven is not a remote location in space one can locate with the proper astrometric instruments and coordinates; nor are unbelieving cosmonauts and hard-nosed empiricists the only ones to make such a mistake. After all, as we hear today, even the disciples need to have their attention drawn away from searching the skies and brought back to earth where Jesus will truly be found! Heaven refers to God’s own life shared with others.


Luke is telling the story in a way which helps us see that in Christ God has not only conquered death, but (he) has made room for humanity itself (and in fact, for all of creation) within (his) own Divine life. Christ is the “first fruits” of this new way of existing where heaven (Divine Life) and earth (created life) now interpenetrate one another. God is present in our world of space and time now in a way he could not have been apart from Jesus’ openness and responsiveness (what the Scriptures call his “obedience”), and Jesus is present in a way he could not be without existing in God. Jesus’ own ministry among us continues as more and more, Jesus draws us each and all into that same Divine life in the power of the Holy Spirit of the Father and Son.


St John uses the puzzling language of mutual indwelling to describe this reality: "The Father is in me and I am in him" . . ." we know that we abide in him and he is in us." When theologians in both Western and Eastern churches speak of this whole dynamic, their summary is paradoxical and shocking: [[God became human so that humans might become gods]]. And as one contemporary Bible scholar puts the matter, “We who are baptized into Christ's death are citizens of heaven colonizing the earth.” As such, we are also called on to develop the eyes of faith that allow us to see this new world as it is shot through with the promise of fullness. Some of us experienced what this means just this week.

Three years ago, in a visit to my parish, Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs, gave us a virtual tour of his Camden ‘hood by sharing the work he had drawn and painted from Holy Week onward during his own sheltering in place. Many of us got a chance to see through his eyes, that is, through the eyes of faith and love. What Bro Mickey showed us was not an idealized Camden without violence, poverty, suffering or struggle; those were all present. But through his eyes we saw the greenhouse cathedral of a neighborhood garden, the communion lines  and eucharistic Presence of the community food pantry, the way of the cross of a crippled man as he limped up the street, a broken and bold statue of Mary standing as a symbol of perseverance and hope despite everything, and another more contemporary version made even more beautiful by a prostitute's gift of a single flower. And everywhere reality that could have been accurately drawn in harsh tones of pain and struggle were more accurately shown awash with life, beauty, and hope splashed in colors of brilliant orange, and purple, and gold, and green --- the colors of life, royalty, holiness, newness and potential. 

Today’s Feast is not so much about the departure or absence of Jesus as it is his new transfigured, universal, and even cosmic presence which in turn transforms everything it touches with the life of God. The world we live in is not the one that existed before Jesus’ death, and resurrection. Heaven and earth now interpenetrate one another in a way which may sound suspiciously to some like bad science fiction. We know its truth, however, whenever we can see this New Creation with the eyes of faith and love --- that is, whenever we can see ourselves and the world around us with the very eyes of God. It is the only way we will become disciples ourselves --- or truly make disciples of all nations.

St Joseph's Dream and Advent Promise

I recently wrote a piece based on a Friday homily which reflected on the importance of dreams and the idea of paying attention to our dreams (and nightmares) along with God's promises, to help prepare for and move us to greater commitment to the God of Jesus Christ. I realized that I had also once published a video with Brother Mickey McGrath's painting of St Joseph and the reassurance he receives via a dream. It is this assurance of the providence of God that allows Joseph to take Mary as his wife and paves the way for the Incarnation. The above video looks at Bro Mickey's painting from various peoples' perspectives. I hope you enjoy it and of course, I hope you enjoy Bro Mickey's art and the way it expresses a wonderfully relevant contemporary spirituality.

Return from Retreat with Brother Mickey McGrath OSFS: An Introduction to Sister Thea Bowman

This weekend I was privileged to be able to attend a retreat themed "Wise and Holy Women" given by Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS at San Damiano. (My pastor, also an Oblate of Saint Francis de Sales, and my parish picked up the tab for this terrific surprise; it was simply wonderful and I am hoping to share more of it here in time.) As a discrete and additional piece of the weekend, however, a separate but related session, Brother Mickey presented the story of Franciscan Sister Thea Bowman (FSPA) organized around a series of paintings he had done. They include some of those illustrations placed throughout this blog piece.

In the course of this presentation Brother Mickey told the story of Sister Thea's speech at the USCCB in 1989. Sister Thea, dying of breast cancer which had metastasized to her bones, had agreed to do the talk while in remission from significant pain. Then, the morning she was scheduled to leave for the talk her pain returned. She decided to proceed anyway since she had promised to be there and to contribute to a presentation on the reality and experience of Black Catholics in the Universal Church. Sister, a PhD in English Literature and Linguistics, was in a wheel chair; she was too fragile to stand, was in agonizing pain whenever she was touched, and, because the place she was to give her speech was not accessible to those with disabilities, had to be lifted in a chair to the stage.

She began her presentation characterizing her own feelings about being an African American Catholic by singing, Sometimes I feel like a motherless Child. From that moment on one knows one is in the presence of someone alive with the grace and holiness of God. It is an electrifying moment, especially considering her physical condition, and the speech itself is electrifying and inspiring beyond describing. The Bishops themselves (well, most of them) clearly felt similarly. I have included a copy of the video below. If you have not seen it before you simply must do so. To see an educated, articulate, and faith-filled woman Religious calling, chiding, chivvying (gently and with humor) and encouraging brother Catholics and Bishops to be the shepherds of the genuinely Universal Church they are called to be, as well as to see them responding with joy and tears is incredibly powerful. (Only in some cases was serious incomprehension and even resistance also evident!) The video included below is not as good as one available on You Tube (you will need to bear with a kind of fragmented beginning or begin about 5 minutes in) but it is more complete and therefore in some ways more powerful. It includes Sister Thea's introductory song and gives glimpses of the process of getting her to the stage. I hope you enjoy it and are inspired by it as much as I was.


Sr. Thea Bowman, Speech to US Catholic Bishops, 1989.

By the way, Brother Mickey has published a book on Sister Thea which includes the series of paintings referred to above. It is called This Little Light and reflects on the life lessons taught by Thea Bowman. (While it is available on Kindle I would personally suggest one consider instead the hardcover version because an ordinary kindle cannot do justice to the wonderful art which is so central to the book. A Kindle Fire on the other hand might be an excellent way to go though.)

N.B: For those interested in Brother Mickey's paintings, prints, cards, etc., please check with Clear Faith publishing and Embraced By God.org. For those interested in a print-on-demand solution to something you might have seen of Brother Mickey's, please check with Trinity Stores.com. They will do various kinds and sizes of framed prints (including Giclee and prints on wood panels) and also will print on ceramic, clothes, etc.

Son of David! Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS

On the Feast of Christ the King my parish was lucky enough to be visited by Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS who was in the area for a conference in the South Bay. Bro Mickey is an Oblate of St Francis de Sales, the same congregation as my pastor, and during the visit Mickey stayed at the parish and did the homily for the Feast. He took slides of his work and projected them on the wall in the sanctuary; he then did a running commentary on the Feast via each of the pictures. It was an amazing presentation. All of the works related to Jesus as King, or to Kingship in the OT and thus to the story of the multitude of ways God dwells among us and is (or wills to be) sovereign. The depth and breadth of the scriptural references was stunning and exhilarating.

One of the pictures especially spoke to me. It is called Son of David and reflects not only King David and his Son, but also Jesus as Son of David and God's sovereign and merciful One. (Whenever Jesus healed people "they had tended to call out to him, Son of David, have pity on me/us!") In the foreground is the Son of David figure holding a harp which reminds us of the psalms David is supposed to have authored but which stand as the singing heart of the OT. There is a river and a pomegranate tree reminding us not only of the tree of life and the movement to freedom of the Exodus but of the rich symbolism of the fruit as well. In Judaism the pomegranate (rimon) symbolizes, "righteousness because it is said to have 613 seeds, which corresponds with the 613 mitzvot, or commandments, of the Torah. For this reason and others, it is customary to eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashanah. Moreover, the pomegranate represents fruitfulness, knowledge, learning, and wisdom." The river and tree also remind us of the Israelites' exile and corresponding plaint --- We hung up our lyres, for our captives there required of us songs; but how can we sing the songs of Zion in a foreign land? Likewise then the harp in Jesus' hands reminds us of the song that Jesus awakens in our hearts when he brings us to freedom and then, eventually, home. 

For me all of these meanings have personal significance, especially because so much of my time is spent singing psalms, but also because of the idea of playing an instrument and singing while in a state of exile. Eremitical life generally (and certainly my own) is joyful and an instance of God's own song even when it must sometimes be sung in a minor key; after all, exile (and being at home in exile) is a very big and meaningful piece the eremitical vocation and my own personal story. The consolation and inspiration of the Holy Spirit is also represented in the painting --- from Whom else do we sing and in Whom else's power are we made song? (Here I also remember Dom Robert Hale's comment that God sustains us like a singer sustains a note!) The name Stillsong Hermitage reflects all this and more.

Because I was so struck by the painting (and because Mickey left the Church early so I missed talking to him directly), I asked my pastor if he could check to see if there were prints available and if so, to get some information for me from Bro Mickey.  Unfortunately, I hadn't seen Fr John all week to follow up on the results but Sunday morning, when I came into the sacristy after Mass to take off my cowl and get ready to go outside, a flattish wrapped package with my name on it was sitting on top of my vest there on the vestment press. I wondered vaguely  if, because of the day and it's size and shape, it could be an Advent calendar --- though no one else seemed to be getting one! Anyway, after making sure I did not have to wait for Christmas to open the package (Such a relief! I probably would NOT have been able to do so anyway!) I realized what it MIGHT be. And so it was, namely, a ready to frame 11"X14" print of Brother Mickey's, Son of David! WOO HOO!!

For a chance to "meet" Brother Mickey and to see a face of religious life you may not have met yourself, check out the following videos. One of the points he makes which resonates with my own theology and work is that our God is found in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. Our world is at least potentially sacramental, always and everywhere. We seek God wherever we are and wherever we go and we are open to allowing God to transfigure all things. Brother Mickey's commitment to this truly joyful vision of reality comes through in what he says and assuredly it comes through in his art.

For those of you who like this print (it is more vibrant than shows here, I think) please check out all of Brother Mickey (O'Neill!!) McGrath's work at www.EmbracedbyGod.org. It is extraordinary with vibrant colors, thoughtful and multi-layered composition, and wonderful dashes of humor and contemporary tones, notes, faces, and scenes. (He had slides of Mary holding Jesus and sitting in a modern rocking chair because his Mother had and loved sitting in just such a rocking chair, while his paintings of contemporary Saints, Founders, Popes, etc are unique.)

Another painting I particularly loved is Christ the Teacher which has Jesus with his arms full of torah scrolls, books, papers, and even computers reflecting all of the ways the Gospel of God has come to us over the history of his Proclamation. It is available in a print but also as note cards. Jesus the Student is also lovely and there are any number of paintings of Mary and the various Saints which remind us of how ordinary such extraordinary holiness is meant to be (as well as how extraordinary we each are called to be in our ordinariness). Incarnation is a thread woven throughout the work again and again. The prints are generally available in several sizes (specific prints each seem to be available in only one of these sizes), are very reasonable in price. Please consider contributing to this unique and significant ministry!