Like St Paul, we must keep “forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead” (Phil 3:13).   We have a tendency sometimes to examine our consciences or our pasts too closely, and then we risk becoming terrified that we are missing something, that we have done nothing pure in God’s sight, even that we need to confess again what we’ve already confessed because we see it more clearly now and it seems even worse than we thought; as if we need to explain every nuance of our sin before it can be fully forgiven, or that we will never move forward unless every scrap of the past is “cleaned up.”

But no. This is only a temptation to remain focused on ourselves and distract our attention from God, from His will, from His work. Because God truly does cast all our sins behind His back (Isaiah 38:17), so we should not keep running back and holding them before us again. He does not demand that our past remain our present; He calls us forward to walk in newness. He does not demand that we go back again and again to scrutinize every detail of our motivation and culpability in each sin; He tells us simply, “Go, and sin no more” (Jn 8:11).

We should simply go, and sin no more.

There is no room in a heart that has accepted the grace of forgiveness for looking back or trying to convince others (or herself) how horrible her sins have been; in embracing the gift of mercy, our hearts are too filled with grateful rejoicing in love. This gratitude and love spur us on to praise Him and joyfully serve others.

Looking back at the sins already forgiven, wondering if we are really free, only keeps us in bondage to them. This new “slavery to sin” (Jn 8:34) constricts our ability to move forward on the path to Him, to serve others for love of Him, to seek His Kingdom first. It keeps us small and crawling.

But He wants us to soar.The freedom offered to us is so complete that even the TRUTH about our past cannot obstruct the radiant Truth of now – right now, He is loving us; right now, He is saving us; right now, He is calling us into the light of His presence and into the peace of His Kingdom, where His Heart – human and divine- reigns with mercy eternally.

Right now, we must reject the temptation to look back.

Right now, we must ask for the grace to keep our eyes on HIM.
…………………………………………………… ………………..

Today, I cannot bear
the sky’s accessible glory
or its brilliant refraction of pure light,
drawing me from where I crawl,
upward, soaring,
eyes searching all that might yet be,
far from the dark law of gravity
that I must temporarily obey; burden of light
 

Yesterday, I could not see.
Today, Your bright wing has lifted me.

Cana’s drought of wine
     might abrupt the feast, and Your time is not yet come, but
     You are eager to give in full measure, pressed down,
              running over -
the water of our sustenance,
the water of our cleansing,
the water of our offering,
     becomes the richest wine,
                       the wine of celebration,
                        the wine of joy.
Because of the eagerness of Your love,
    Your time, which has not yet come -
           the glorious Feast, which is our eternal Wedding -
                    is NOW.

The Bridegroom is here.
Let us surrender with joy.

We deal with ordinary things in extraordinary ways, the mundane things never becoming boring because each moment brings the greatest adventure to us anew – the opportunity to penetrate the veil of the commonplace and find another way to love for Your sake. And each choice to love is a point of intersection of the timeless with time, where that impossible union – the mystery of the Incarnation – takes place in our lives, step by step, choice by choice.

All the countless details of the day, the trifling activities that take up our time and energy, if we but do them as we should, not withholding ourselves, can please You. These things are the small part we play in striving to reach You and bring You to others.

We can only love “in minute particulars,” as William Blake said, and this is true regarding our love for You as well as our neighbor. Love is in the details, not in the throbs of largesse that achieve nothing unless they drive us to attend more generously to those particulars, those mundane particulars in which You are so well hidden.

This is where faith brings us, isn’t it? What faith does it take, after all, to recognize You transfigured before us in the profound and mysterious? These events are obvious, and we are not instantly transformed by them (Peter was still Peter, impulsive to build booths, on Tabor). On the other hand, what faith it takes to recognize You hidden in the subtle urgencies of the day! The child awake at 2 am, the unfinished laundry, the meal to be prepared, the rambunctious children, the impatient spouse, the throbbing head, the paper scraps and crumbs that make up the day. These do not readily reveal Your “I AM,” but they do reveal Your will, which is enough. And our consistent embrace of Your will DOES transform us.

Yes, this takes great faith, to see Your omnipotent will in the most ordinary things. And how much more does it take to see Your goodness and mercy in the frustrations and disappointments and confusions we face, particularly when these come in response to our efforts to love and serve You. You draw us to You through our weakness and failures. And while it is natural to feel discouraged at what we are, You give us the grace to rise above that and become what You created us to be. Even more, every natural impulse we have, in spite of the fact that it is natural, must be thrown off to make way for every raw truth. Every natural impulse we have can become an idol for us if we are not willing to thrust it aside and make room for the impulses of grace. If we cling to what is merely natural in us, under the pretext that it is only natural, it can become an obstacle to Your work in us.

And if we are desirous of avoiding the superficial view, trying to chop away the encrustations of devotion and language that obscure what You ARE and what we are in You, then we must be just as eager to be freed of our own impulses and ideas, whether of nature or environment or circumstance, if they obscure those realities….

Father, transform us all in Christ, so that His cross is our guide, and His Spirit informs our every action. May we have no impulse of our own, but let us be moved by the impulses of grace, so that our living and breathing may glorify You. Let us comprehend at last what it means to have died to sin and to live for You. Give us the grace to embrace the life of radiance Christ won for us by His death, resurrection, and ascension, to live the life of joy and peace promised to those who love Him.

On that Easter morning, she sees the fulfillment of every promise and she understands more clearly than any living creature the full meaning of this Event. The ecstatic consolation of again beholding her Son – so recently beaten, broken, poured out for us – now revived, risen, restored, made new, is in direct correlation to the depth of her sharing in His suffering and death. In a sense, His resurrection is her own. She is allowed to touch His glorified Face, to kiss Him with such love and joy that she is already in Heaven – He is Heaven. He holds her gently to His Heart, as her own heart finds its rhythm in His. She brings Him as much joy as He gives her.

Just a few days ago, she held His dead body in her grieving arms, clutching Him to her broken heart. Now it is He who supports her in His glorious arms.

Beauty embraces beauty, Purity looks into the bright eyes of purity, Love unites again with love.

A moment of glory.