Today is the Feast of St. John Baptist and I am an associate of that Order. That association arose from my many years of first retreating to Convent of St. John Baptist in Mendham, NJ annually as a young priest and then later being the Rector in Mendham and saying mass for the Sisters. They remain in my prayer and I in theirs after so long a time. So today I honor them in my heart not because of any particular Sister but rather because they are a destination, a place of making.
Not all of us are called to the life of a religious community where people pledge themselves to a life of prayer and action 24/7. Not all who enter this life will sustain it, but may be called to it for a season and a time. There is always a sadness when one samples this way of life and it does not fit and one must leave. The Sound of Music romanticized that, yet it is true.
In a world where not all will marry or find intimacy in a one on one way there is this model of vocation open. It is a model of intimacy found in prayer and work. It is a model of family and work much of the world does not grasp. The Religious Life, as it is often called, is a particular way to come to know God deeply and with purpose, what we call vocation. While at its heart there is a rhythm of prayer, there is also study and work. Some Orders run schools, some social service institutions, some nurse, some run places of retreat, some mix it up and some are insulated places of prayer. As one Sister once said to me, "When the rest of the world is forgetting to pray, we are here praying in their place and for them."
Too often we only see this life through the worst Roman Catholic school boy's tale of a Sister and her ruler over the knuckles. Certainly she has or did exist, but she is a distortion just like I am a distortion on a bad day. We all are a distortion of our created selves on a bad day. But I digress a bit here.
The lessons for this day are insightful. From Malachi we read:
"Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me: and the Lord, whom you seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom you delight in: behold, he shall come, says the Lord of hosts. But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appears? For he is like a refiners fire, and like fullers soap..." Malachi 3:1-2
Always in scripture we find some vision of God as One who means to purify or clarify our lives and our life's purpose. In the prophetic vision often there is a sense where the purity of God's purpose cuts to our core, burns away what is amiss. At its heart is not dislike of the human creature but sheer love, the core of divinity. This love desire that we become as we were created in the heart of God to be, an entrance of Divine love, full acceptance of what is best into the world again. Malachi goes on to say,
"Then I will draw near to you for judgment; I will be swift to bear witness against the sorcerers, against the adulterers, against those who swear falsely, against those who oppress the hired workers in their wages, the widow, and the orphan, against those who thrust aside the alien, and do not fear me, says the Lord of hosts. Malachi 3:5
The truth of Divine Love, original love, is that it judges by its very nature. Its judgment is not punitive in intent nor is it destructive. Its very purity simply stands in contrast to self preservation or preoccupation. It understands that its well does not empty, is eternal. There is always more to tap into. It does not distort by false sources or actions (sorcerers, adulteries, lies). It does not misuse others (hired workers) but serves need (widows, orphaned, those with no place of security). This is its purifying power, it spends itself only to grow more profound.
On the Feast of John the Baptist we celebrate the divine intention for this Love to come among us in Jesus. The strength of this coming is so gently captured in the Gospel today. We are well into John's message of repentance, returning full attention to God's hope for us by turning and seeing God more clearly and desiring to be changed into God's reflection. What else is John's baptism? John's disciples are puzzled that Jesus is gathering greater following than John.
"Rabbi, the one who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you testified, here he is baptizing, and all are going to him." John 3:26
John defers to Jesus in the most clear and pure way.
"No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven. ... I have been sent ahead of (the Messiah)... For this reason my joy has been fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease." John 3:27-30
John's willingness to decrease is proportionate to Love's increase. What seems like jealousy in John's disciples melts in John's ego. The greater Love must occupy increasing space.
After turning to God, we are only briefly judged by the presence of love. Then we melt, not like butter, not like the cinders after coal is burned. Rather we become like something more precious than we knew we housed. We become God's gold, God's silver. Something deep within purifies. It is merely our core of love, not ours but God's designed into us. Our false protective self is to decrease, our generous core is to increase. We do not disappear, we simply grow more real. That is what John was trying to tell his followers.
When I first began to go the Convent of St. John Baptist for quiet, retreat, reflection, becoming, the convent was guided by Mother Margaret Helena. She was not perfect but for me she was wise. I shared with her as much as I dared. As I look back I suspect she knew much that I held back as myself. But what I remember was her patient insight. I always felt loved but with a gentle distance as if it was not her love but God's.
I think she knew from within that in time I too would learn the art of decreasing only to increase in something more core, Jesus. Who knows this for you?
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