This reflection was first published with the Oxford Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality Lent 2021.
God's Creative Beauty
I must admit that I am enamored with birds. Their beauty, effortless flight, graceful movements, and melodic calls and warbling captivate my attention and stir my soul upward with their ascent. When I watch them, I taste an interior freedom and desire to glide in the wind, with carefree abandon. God has spoken to me many times of what it means to hope and enjoy true freedom of spirit through these feathered friends.
Several years ago, I watched
transfixed during one early morning hike as the sun rose in the east over the
dusty desert mountain-tops of Arizona, and two ravens circled overhead, cawing
to one another while carrying straw in their black beaks for nest-building. To
my delight, they began swooping in patterns and loops. With my eyes wide and my mouth agape, I observed
in amazement as the two began to perform pirouettes and somersaults in the sky
like a circus act on a trapeze! I thought I might need a bit of coffee to clear
my head, but there they were continuing their performance as if starring members
of Cirque du Soleil. To say that I was
mesmerized by such antics would be an understatement! It was a spectacle that I
shall never forget, and enamored my spirit to that primal desire to fly, if not
physically than at least spiritually.
More recently, on a
recent hike through the mountains, a red-tailed hawk caught my attention as he
glided in the wind above our well-hewn trail in a graceful freedom that was
absolutely breath-taking. He captured my attention, and I yearned to join this
majestic bird in a free-flight of spirit. What would it be like to just glide
effortlessly through the clouds and gaze upon the earth with a literal bird’s
eye view? The Lord whispered interiorly
that He desires to grant this wish of my heart, but to do so requires a letting
go of all that weighs me down. He
reminded me of what St. John of the Cross says, “The
soul that is attached to anything however much good there may be in it will not
arrive at the liberty of divine union. For whether it be a strong wire rope or
a slender and delicate thread that holds the bird, it matters not, if it really
holds it fast; for until the cord be broken the bird cannot fly.”
The Dynamics of Hope
Hope has an ascending dynamism which has led it
to be
compared to a bird. Emily Dickinson penned “Hope is the thing with feathers” to suggest just that:
Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
___ that sings the tune without
the words
___ and never stops at all.
The dove on Noah’s ark
brought back a sign of hope with the olive branch carried in his beak,
indicating that dry land was within distance and God had kept His promise. Even the mythological bird of the phoenix
dying amidst fire and ashes, to then experience renewal and rebirth is a story
of hope. So how much more is the Cross
of Jesus Christ, Our Savior and Redeemer suspended above the earth, who as the
cosmic eternal source of all hope invites us to lay down our attachments, egos,
and baggage in order to be free to fly with Him in the fullness of life?
We
are told in The Catechism of the Catholic Church that hope is a theological
virtue, “by which we desire the
kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in
Christ's promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the
grace of the Holy Spirit. Hope is an aspiration to happiness which God has
placed in the heart of every man [CCC 1817-1818.] Hope is such a strong desire based upon faith
that it serves as a catalyst for our activities and purifies them towards the
Kingdom of heaven, opening one’s heart in expectation of eternal life. Hope is so
powerful that it is not only a theological virtue, but a form of eros or desire
for ultimate union with Our Triune God which holds the ultimate purpose for every
human being. Such upward arrows of
hopeful desire [eros] are found in various forms of goodness, beauty, and truth,
and are expressed as urgent longings that lift us up in flight with the Holy
Spirit like a bird and carries us towards the Eternal.
The Lord affirms that the gift of hope and the desires of our
hearts anchored upon faith are indeed pleasing to Him and come from the Spirit.
St. Paul tells us just that in Romans 5:3-5 “we also exult in our
tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and
perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and this hope does
not disappoint us, because the love of God has been poured out within our
hearts through the Holy Spirit.”
Such hope is
the fruit of trial and perseverance, which then takes flight to something
desired but not yet seen. [See Heb 11:1] How fitting, when we examine the root meanings of hope
in English and Hebrew. In late Old English the root word for hope
[hopa] refers to "confidence in the future,"
especially "God or Christ as a basis for hope.” It also denotes an "expectation
of something desired;" along with "trust, confidence; wishful
desire." Interestingly, the word for hope in
Hebrew (Tikvah), means not only expectation but also a cord or rope, from
a root word that means to bind or to wait for or upon.
So when we cooperate with the Lord’s grace in severing the last
thread here upon earth in order that we can be free to fly with Our Beloved, we
anchor ourselves upon the Cross and tether ourselves to our First Love. We no longer place our trust “in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save” but instead turn to the Lord, who remains faithful
forever [Ps 146], and who has
known us before we were born, knitting us together in our mother’s womb [Ps
139]. For it is the Lord who promises us, “I know the plans I
have for you…, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope
[Tikvah] and a future.”
Jesus expresses His deep desire for this flight
to take place when He tell us, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will
draw everyone to myself.” [Jn 12:32] This magnetic drawing of us towards
Himself upon the Cross suggests that all the extraneous disordered attachments
of our lives -the false masks and identities, ego, material possessions,
deformed memory, intellect and will, must be placed in His Precious Wounds and
die with Him right there, where all of it falls to the ground and becomes a
burnt offering. Just as the wheat can
only bear fruit when it has fallen to the ground, so must we be willing to
leave it all behind, for it to be burned away and for fruitfulness to occur.
The Wound of Love
This delicate surgery is performed using the
precise instrument of the Cross. These are the moments we dread- when not only
can we not fly, but sometimes cannot even crawl. We are like birds with broken wings and plucked
feathers who are immobilized as unexpected illness, an untimely death of a
loved one, grief over a loss of job, dreams deferred, relationships ruined wash
over our wounded bodies and souls. Even the simple expectations that we had
been counting on are incinerated as the mundane and unfulfilled gaping holes in
our hearts are exposed. As we are stripped and begin to lay these situations
down one by one, we find ourselves lifted high upon the Cross, united with
Jesus Crucified.
The more we battle and struggle with Him, the
more our wings become injured. Conversely, the more we surrender and entrust
ourselves to Him with the cords of hope that cling to Him and His Cross, the
more liberated we become. With such
cords we begin to build a nest on the altar of the Cross just as the swallows
do [See Ps 84:3], in hopeful expectation of our ultimate freedom and wholeness.
We cry out in groanings and lamentations with the Psalmist,
Have
mercy on me, O God, in your goodness;
in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense.
4 Thoroughly wash me from my guilt
and cleanse me from my sin.
12 A clean heart create for me, O God,
renew a steadfast spirit within me.
13 Cast me not away from your presence,
nor deny me your Holy Spirit. [Ps 51: 3-4,12-13]
As we abandon ourselves more fully in humility
to this purification process, hoisting the rope of hope upon the four corners
of the Holy Cross, the more weightless we become. We encounter the holy kiss of the Cross where
merciful love and faithfulness embrace and justice and peace kiss. [Ps 85:10] The
Cross becomes a lever of freedom, the wounds of Christ a shelter and refuge as
we unite our sufferings with His own. United with Jesus on the “marriage bed” of
the Holy Cross, we lean into the Crucified Christ and unite our wounds with His
own where this sacrificial love becomes a fruitful rebirth in a springtime of
renewal and hope.
The Hope of the Cross
One somber morning on Good Friday, my daughter
and I were walking to a Rosary rally to pray with our bishop for life. I was
startled when I spied a tiny ruby-throated hummingbird seemingly dead next to
the sidewalk. I was deeply saddened as I have always had a special love for these
little creatures, and encounter them as little signs given to me of Our
Heavenly Father’s Divine Providence, His healing, protection and the movement
of the Holy Spirit. I wanted to gather it up and take it home to bury it, but
we decided to stop afterwards to do so. After our prayer, we proceeded to walk
back, and I was stunned by my discovery! The hummingbird no longer appeared
dead upon the ground, but was now alighted upon a branch and began to energetically
gather nectar in his proboscis beak with wings aflutter. I was absolutely
astonished when I later learned that the hummingbird is a sign of resurrection,
and that it sleeps in a state of torpor during which its body temperature
plummets in order that it can protect itself and regain its energy. Although it
is near death, it rises again to continue. And so it is with our own lives in
the deepest recesses of our souls, along with our hopes, dreams and desires.
This is the power of what Jesus promises each of
us today and every day, “Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates
his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me
must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be” [Jn
12:25-26]. Let us therefore
cry out with the Bride in the Song of Songs, “Draw us Lord, and we shall run….Lift
me up, Lord, upon the Cross and bind me with your cords of love, and we shall
fly.” Then we can boldly proclaim, Ave
Crux Spes Unica - Hail to the Cross, Our Only
Hope.
