Bonsai! or, Seeking the Good, the True, and the Beautiful

Okay, so: storytime. But at the risk of killing the story, let me give you some background.

What I have discovered while training with the Army is that structures that the Army builds are uses are very functional, but seldom are pretty. In fact, there are very few beautiful things when one is training with the Army. Things tend towards function and uniformity, which makes sense, because it's the Army and that's kinda what we do most of the time. When you go downrange and into the trees, maybe you could look toward the foliage for something beautiful, but more than likely you will be counseled to smell the roses later, if any drill sergeant finds out what you are doing.

However, during training last summer, there was one jarringly beautiful thing that I remember. At Fort Leonard Wood, in the Central Iowa Chapel, there were huge stained glass windows in the worship space. I wish that I could find pictures of that stained glass, because it made me stop and catch my breath after all the camouflage and foliage that I had been looking at...

Here's where the story starts:

I don’t remember how far into training I was that I finally wrote to my wife and told her that we were going to go look at beautiful things when I got home. But I did write that and we did go find beautiful things when I was done. We went to the Como Conservatory in St. Paul. Took plenty of time in the greenhouse, and the zen garden, we walked through the Como Zoo that day, too. But what especially held my attention that day was looking at the bonsai trees.

Bending and Breathing the Way St. Ignatius Did

This is neither at the YMCA, nor is it yoga... but I'm really
getting into climbing

This summer my wife, Amanda, and I have been trying new things together in terms of fitness and well-being. We've been going to the YMCA more often, taking yoga-based classes together as well as making use of the climbing wall more often. I think I've done more climbing in my life than Amanda has, but she's done more yoga in her life than I have, so I think we've successfully avoided any conditions by which we would be competing with each other (well, that's not entirely true, but I hope you understand what I mean... we're able to avoid taking any grudges home with us).

At the same time, I have been going through the Ignatian examen less and less. That's a confession, not an update that I'm happy to offer. But, that being said, the guys over at Pray As You Go are really awesome with their social media presence and it was through their Twitter feed that I found out they're doing this #31dayswithIgnatius in preparation for St. Ignatius' feast day on the 31st of July. So I went and checked out this page they've set up that gives you the rundown on the examen prayer.

I think it had been a suggestion put out by Pray As You Go via their Twitter account, but for whatever reason I listened to the audio file they've posted as an introduction to the examen (I would recommend it to you, too, if you're at all curious about the prayer... it's on the same page that I linked to just above). What I took away is that the Jesuits at Pray As You Go have framed the examen as a method of praying through the events of your day, not just simply reflecting on them. This phrasing may be obvious to some of you, dear readers, but it's an important emphasis for me, with everything that's been going on in my life lately.

For me, lately, reflecting on anything life-related in spiritual terms has been difficult and uncomfortable. I feel like my spiritual life is going in a direction that I did not want it to go and that I'm prevented from taking it in the way that I thought I was being called to take it (if you need context for this remark, read this post I made a couple weeks ago). So a method of prayer and review that actively invites God to show me divine movement in my life... I've been shying away from the examen because it is difficult for me and causes more discomfort. But lately, I've realized that this sensation is analogous to the way I feel doing yoga.

Are We in the Eye of the Storm? Or, Jesus Is Sleeping in the Boat Again

This is the stained glass behind the altar at Sacred Heart
Catholic Church in Wahkon, MN, where I will sometimes
attend Mass when my wife and I are visiting her parents.

I couldn't help but think of these panels as I listened to this
week's gospel story from Mark.

The Gospel reading for this past Sunday was the story of Jesus calming the storm. Or, if you prefer, it's the story where Jesus is asleep in the back of the boat while his disciples tried to keep the boat afloat. Either way, when Jesus wakes up, he tells the storm "Peace! Be still!" and the sea becomes calm.

He then does that thing where he asks the disciples why they were afraid and he asks whether they have no faith. I can just see that image, where Jesus is kinda shaking his head in a very exasperated sort of way (yes, I imagine that Jesus grew impatient with his disciples sometimes).

While I was growing up, more often than not, this story was taught with a cute little moral at the end like this: "And that, children, is why you should never be a afraid of a storm in your life; whether it's something at school or a misunderstanding between friends or even a real storm. Never be afraid because Jesus is with us always." BLEH.

However, this weekend, I was listening to a priest who pointed out that very often, we feel like we're in the middle of the storm. He paused and pointed out that almost every commentary on this Gospel story says that the boat the disciples are traveling in is an image representing the Church. This priest then pointed out that sometimes we, as a Church, might find ourselves in moment of calm. It's like suddenly, all the criticism and controversy around us in the popular media subsides for just little bit, but it's not the case that we're out of the storm. It's that we're in the eye of the storm.

What that means is that this story of Jesus is not important because we can look back on the storms in our life, but it is important when we recognize we are right in the middle of a storm.

What Do We Give to the Emperor? Or, Jesus Is Into Coinage Now

An example of a denarius - hover for more info

The Scripture from today's Pray As You Go meditation is the well-known one where the Pharisees ask Jesus about paying taxes. Jesus very deftly asks for a coin and asks whose face is on it. After some rhetoric, he delivers the well-known line "Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and give to God the things that are God's" (if you feel moved to read the whole passage, follow this link).

Many commentaries that I have heard about this passage have to do with worldly things going to worldly powers, while our hearts and spirits should be dedicated to God. I have also heard commentaries that have to do with the nature of giving itself (in fact, the meditation that I linked to above suggests one such approach). But as I was listening to the meditation, I had a realization: one way or the other, Jesus is acknowledging that there are multiple Lords that have authority over us as humans.

Baseball and Scripture Are #Twinning

I'm often asked whether I'm named after the Apostle Thomas. To which I respond, no, I'm not. I'm named after Tom Kelly, manager for the Minnesota Twins baseball club during their 1987 and 1991 World Series wins.

I then usually launch into the story that my parents have told me, about how I was supposed to be named after my grandfather, Juel Adrian Monson. They were going to give me the name "Monson" and call me "Muns," as my grandfather was. But as soon as I came out, both of my parents agreed that I wasn't a "Monson," I was a "Tom." My father will usually give an addendum and say that it wasn't until well after I had been born that he decided I was indeed named after Tom Kelly.

So names are strange, interesting things. For example, the Apostle Thomas (who we recently heard about in the Gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Easter) is said to be called the Twin. Why was he "the Twin?" Well, biblical scholars tend to agree that his given name was Judas, so he was called the Twin in order to distinguish him from the other Judas, son of Simon Iscariot.

But at any rate, it's actually true that the name we have today, "Thomas" is a transcription, through New Testament Greek, of the Aramaic name תאומא (te'oma), which means "twin" (and makes me think that maybe all managers of the Minnesota Twins should be named Tom or Thomas). But this particular apostle is also called "Doubting Thomas." Which is, I think, a custom that causes grief for people who may tend to act like he does in this story of Jesus' posthumous appearance. I mean, I should know; I think I'm one of them.

"The Upstart, Jesus," as Told by the Dramatist, Mark

Borrowed from "Getting to Know the Evangelists"
on the St. James Cathedral, Seattle website

I really like the Gospel of Mark.

Which means that I'm in luck, since this week's lectionary for the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (Feb 1) is the second week in a row that we have a reading from Mark.

Baptism of the Lord, or, My Mentor Is Straight Out of the New Testament

I have often thought that John the Baptist is a great icon for the diaconate.

Icon of the Theophany
[yes, I know John isn't front and center, but you'll see the importance
of this icon in a few moments]

Deacons are ordained for the Word and service and these two things are incredible attributes of John's ministry. The service component is evident in scripture when he tries to describe what he is doing, "I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals." Now as the story goes (and as is celebrated in the liturgical tradition), John, for all his words of how lowly he is, gets to inaugurate Christ's ministry in the waters of the River Jordan. I say that's pretty incredible service. Thinking of what it means for an individual to be Christ's baptizer, I am at a loss trying to put myself in those shoes, er... sandals...

Psalm 42: A drowning deer

"As the deer pants for the water,
So my soul longs after you
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship you."

These are the first four line of a hymn that I used to sing when I was in children's choir. I hated singing this song. It sounded so sappy. I envisioned a deer coming up on a stream, passing through a dense forest and I wondered how in the world this image could have any bearing on worship. It just sounded so hokey. And it still does, if you just look at those lyrics. I mean, I'm now cringing at the way that I'm sure the parishioners loved hearing their little ones sing about their all-encompassing devotion to God through the words of this song. It must have been cutesy in a very pious sort of way.