No images? Click here Friday, May 7th, 2021 Richard Rohr's Daily MeditationFrom the Center for Action and Contemplation Week Eighteen: Trauma and Healing Gazing on the Crucified JesusThose who “gaze upon” the crucified Jesus (John 19:37) long enough—with contemplative eyes—are always healed at deep levels of pain, unforgiveness, aggression, and victimhood. It demands no theological education at all, just an “inner exchange” by receiving the image within and offering one’s soul back in safe return. “The crucified Jesus is no stranger” to any part of human history, as Dom Sebastian Moore so wisely put it. [1] The Crucified One offers, at a largely unconscious level, a very compassionate meaning system for history. The mystery of the rejection, suffering, passion, death, and raising up of Jesus is the interpretative key for what history means and where it is all going. Without such cosmic meaning and soul significance, the agonies and tragedies of humanity feel like Shakespeare’s “sound and fury signifying nothing.” The body can live without food easier than the soul can live without such meaning. Theologian Serene Jones has reflected deeply on trauma and the cross. It is an event that both repels us and draws us near. We don’t fully understand it, but there’s a redeeming reason we are drawn to the image again and again:
If all these human crucifixions are leading to some possible resurrection, and are not dead-end tragedies, this changes everything. If God is somehow participating in human suffering, instead of just passively tolerating it and observing it, that also changes everything—at least for those who are willing to “gaze” contemplatively. This deep gazing upon the mystery of divine and human suffering is found in the prophet Zechariah in a very telling text that became a prophecy for the transformative power of the victims of history. He calls Israel to “Look upon the pierced one and to mourn over him as for an only son,” and “weep for him as for a firstborn child,” and then “from that mourning” (five times repeated) will flow “a spirit of kindness and prayer” (12:10) and “a fountain of water” (13:1, 14:8). Today this is perhaps what we would call “grief work,” holding the mystery of pain and looking right at it and learning deeply from it, which normally leads to an uncanny and newfound compassion and understanding. I believe we are invited to gaze upon the image of the crucified to soften our hearts toward God, and to know that God’s heart has always been softened toward us, even and most especially in our own suffering. This softens us toward ourselves and all others who suffer too—in one great wave of universal mercy. [1] Sebastian Moore, The Crucified Jesus Is No Stranger (Seabury Press: 1977). [2] Serene Jones, Trauma and Grace: Theology in a Ruptured World, 2nd ed. (Westminster John Knox: 2019), 73. Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality (Franciscan Media: 2008), 186, 192. Image credit: Belinda Rain, Water Drops On Grass (detail), 1972, photograph, California, National Archives. Image inspiration: Even in and around our sharpest edges the water of life gathers. Soothing, nourishing, healing. Prayer For Our CommunityLoving God, you fill all things with a fullness and hope that we can never comprehend. Thank you for leading us into a time where more of reality is being unveiled for us all to see. We pray that you will take away our natural temptation for cynicism, denial, fear and despair. Help us have the courage to awaken to greater truth, greater humility, and greater care for one another. May we place our hope in what matters and what lasts, trusting in your eternal presence and love. Listen to our hearts’ longings for the healing of our suffering world. Please add your own intentions . . . Knowing, good God, you are hearing us better than we are speaking, we offer these prayers in all the holy names of God. Amen. Story From Our CommunityAs a prison chaplain, I encouraged people to transform their pain, often caused by trauma in their early years. However, most did not have safety and support for transformation. Now, for the first time in my life, I am experiencing profound and chronic pain. I am not doing a lot of transforming. I am numbing, through ice packs and medication, to ensure that I make it to the transformative work of my surgery. To push my metaphor, I am resisting any impulse to do the surgery on myself. Richard's words encourage me in my new journey with physical pain. Was this email forwarded to you? Join now for daily, weekly, or monthly meditations. News from the CACDiscover a Path of Healing in ONEING: TraumaHow do you name your trauma? When you pull back the veil of pain that lingers in your heart, mind, and body, could you find God? Illuminate your experience of God in suffering with ONEING: Trauma, a collection of poignant creative works from Richard Rohr, Matthew Fox, Joan Halifax, David Benner, Felicia Murrell, and more. Interior Castle: An Online Study of Teresa of AvilaDuring times of trauma, going inward can be a powerful way to deepen compassion and connection. Journey through the seven mansions of St. Teresa of Ávila’s Interior Castle with James Finley, Mirabai Starr and spiritual seekers from all over the world in this 8-week online course. Registration ends May 26, 2021. Explore Richard Rohr's Daily Meditations archive at cac.org. The work of the Center for Action and Contemplation is possible only because of people like you! Learn more about how you can help support this work. If you would like to change how you receive these emails you can update your preferences or unsubscribe from our list. Read our FAQ or privacy policy for more information. |