Tenison Woods and MacKillop Centre News: Who do you say I am?

‘But you,’ he said, ‘who do you say I am?’ It was Peter who spoke up. ‘The Christ of God’ he said. But he gave them strict orders not to tell anyone anything about this.

Luke 9:20

Sometimes we are so busy discovering who we are, we stop living real lives. It’s probably a 21^st Century phenomenon. Other generations didn’t have the luxury – putting food on the table, a roof over their heads, learning to read and write. One of the most valued possessions provided by my high school was the headmaster’s personal reference – valued, because employers, the teachers’ colleges and the university also valued the opinion the headmaster’s summation of who you were. Our patience with other’s opinions about us runs out somewhat quickly, we get prickly.

On the other hand, in a social setting, we enjoy the self-revelation that goes with a glass of wine or beer. We revel in discussions about our work, children, footy teams, politics. We hope that the person we present in these situations is likeable, interesting, companionable – even enchanting or attractive. But is this who you are? Are there many yous? Is there a parent-you, a work-you, an exercise-you, a child-you or are you a ‘whole person’ where all these facets are integrated into the one you?

In Exodus we see Moses ask of the Lord, ‘Who shall I say sent me?’ The Lord replies, ‘Tell them that ‘I am sent’ you’. This is the ultimate revelation, for this is both the revealer’s name, and it is also about his/her being. In Luke’s Jesus asks his disciples, ‘Who do I say I am?’ Peter speaks up, ‘God’s anointed one’ (or alternatively, ‘The Christ of God’). Is this Jesus? Is this who he is?

In the two thousand years since Jesus lived and breathed in Palestine, Christians from every century and every decade have sought to answer this same question asked by Jesus, ‘Who do you say I am?’ The results of these searches is, not surprisingly, inconclusive. While the Church has maintained an ‘orthodox’ stance, many, like the Albigensians, Gnostics, Arianists, Docetists have come to alternative conclusions. Today’s ‘isms’ include humanism, anthropomorphism, deism, dualism, indifferentism, pantheism, but there are many more – which, when overlaid with the search for Jesus, can often result in disharmony with the magisterium of the Church. More words have been written about this search than any other topic in humanity.

In the end, the search for Jesus, like the search for who you really are, is about truth. In the same way I need to be truthful, open and honest about my upbringing, my life experiences, my fidelity to those I love, my capacity to grow, my desire to do good for others, compassion, generosity, warmth and kindness. If these rank highly in your life then you need not be surprised by being the delightful and wonderful person you have become. If I know this truth, then undoubtedly, finding the person of Jesus will be a much easier task. Will this truth reveal an ‘orthodox’ Jesus? Maybe, maybe not. There are guides, there is the collected and collective wisdom of the elders, there are people of faith and people of hope. Inasmuch as you will reflect on the words people say about who you are, do Jesus the honour of reflecting on the words others have to say about him. This is really living.

The corollary of knowing Jesus, according to Luke (9:23 - 24), is follow him, to take up your cross, and to lose your life for his sake. That really is discipleship.

Peter Douglas

HEAD OF SCHOOL SERVICES, NORTH

The great floods of 2016

Last week brought great challenges to schools across the north of the state. While many schools had leaks here and there, St Patrick's Latrobe, St Anthony's, St Finn Barr's and Larmenier were closed for safety reasons. School closures require clear lines of communication to TCEO, staff, parents/guardians, students and the broader community. While there are always learnings in these situations, there were vivid displays of excellence in leadership, consultative decision-making and generous pastoral care.

Reflections by Rebecca Ruiz

http://www.ignatianspirituality.com/23747/de-caussade-chance-encounter-divine-intervention

Many years ago, when I was a junior in college, I struck up a correspondence with a sister at Chigwell Convent in England. Actually, she struck up a correspondence with me; I just asked a question. I had asked if I could join the sisters in their missionary work after college for a couple of years. I learned that while I could join them, my student loans could not be deferred for this type of service. I was disappointed to receive the news.

Instead of that notification being the end of the story though, this sister kept writing to me. For over a year, she sent me books by Teresa of Ávila, Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Thich Nhat Hanh, and Thomas Merton. I learned so much from her letters and the materials she sent. Although she knew very little about me, the topics she would talk about in her letters and the books she would send would, each time, address a significant question I was grappling with in my spiritual life.

It was a very enriching chance exchange—or so it seemed to me at the time.

Two decades later, my spiritual advisor re-introduced me to one of the same works that the English sister had sent me years earlier, The Sacrament of the Present Moment. The author, an 18th-century Jesuit priest by the name of Jean-Pierre de Caussade, taught the Ignatian concepts of surrender of the will and finding God in all things to nuns in his French province. He advised that each moment of our lives requires us to do our duty, the duty of the moment, and that each moment is precious and holds some divinely appointed purpose. The way to perfection that he offers is simple: offer God our heart and our will, do our duties faithfully, let go of outcomes, and let God surprise us.

De Caussade wrote words that are still so relevant that they seem alive:

You are seeking God, dear sister, and he is everywhere. Everything proclaims him to you, everything reveals him to you, everything brings him to you. He is by your side, over you, around and in you. Here is his dwelling and yet you still seek him. Ah! You are searching for God, the idea of God in his essential being. You seek perfection and it lies in everything that happens to you—your suffering, your actions, your impulses are the mysteries under which God reveals himself to you (The Sacrament of the Present Moment, 18).

He speaks joy to the mundane and purpose amidst chaos. De Caussade urges us to open our hearts and trust that in each plan that doesn’t go according to our hopes, God has something even better in store. He asks us to trust that God uses each moment throughout every day—each encounter, each delay, each meeting, each chore—for a purpose. All that is required of us is that we do each task to the best of our abilities and then trust God to do the rest.

Those who have abandoned themselves to God always lead mysterious lives and receive from him exceptional and miraculous gifts by means of the most ordinary, natural, and chance experiences in which there appears to be nothing unusual…They exist in a state of total impartiality, neglecting nothing, respecting and making use of everything…They never grumble about not having the means to do what they think will advance them because they are supplied in full by their maker (80).

In hindsight, I see that my chance exchange with the English sister may not have been such a chance happening after all. She answered questions I had never penned, and that time of learning became one of the milestones of my spiritual journey. Out of a time of disappointment, God surprised me and provided what I needed at that time. In fact, those moments were exactly as De Caussade had said they would be: each encounter, each moment, was abundant in possibilities and laden with gifts bestowed by the Creator.

Rebecca Ruiz

Blogs at Walk Along with Me

Rebecca Ruiz holds a B.A. from the College of the Holy Cross and an M.A. from Tufts University. She has worked as an ethnomusicologist, composer, and writer, in academia, and, for the past 14 years, in domestic refugee resettlement in the Diocese of Arlington, VA. She and her husband have two children and live in the Washington, DC metro area. She strives, as St. Ignatius taught, to see God in all things and do “all things for the greater glory of God.”