1 Samuel 4.2, 5-11, 19-22 The Philistines deployed against Israel and the battle was lost and Israel was struck down by the Philistines, and they killed on the field of battle four thousand men.
Now it happened as the ark of the covenant of the FIRE OF SINAI came into the camp, all Israel shouted a great shout and the earth herself echoed it. And when the Philistines heard the sound of the great shout, they said, “What is this great shout in the camp of the Hebrews?” Then they learned that the ark of the ANCIENT OF DAYS had come to the camp. And the Philistines were afraid; for they said, “Gods have come into the camp.” And they said “Woe to us!” Never has there been such a thing. Woe to us! Who can deliver us from the hand of these mighty gods? These are the gods who smote the Egyptians with every kind of plague in the wilderness. Strengthen yourselves and be men, O Philistines, lest you become enslaved to the Hebrews as they were enslaved to you; be men and fight.”
So the Philistines fought, and Israel was defeated and fled, each to their tent. Now there was a very great slaughter and there fell from Israel thirty thousand foot-soldiers. Then the ark of God was taken and the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, died.
Now Eli’s daughter-in-law, the wife of Phinehas, was pregnant, about to give birth and when she heard the news that the ark of God was taken and that her father-in-law and her husband were dead, she squatted and gave birth, for her labor pains came on and overwhelmed her. Then at the moment of her death, the women standing with her said to her, “Fear not, for you have given birth to a son.” But she did not answer or incline her heart. She named the child “Ai Kavod,” Ichabod, meaning, “Woe [Ai]! The glory [Kavod] has departed from Israel,“ because the ark of God had been captured and because of her father-in-law and her husband. She said, “The Glory has departed from Israel, for the ark of God has been taken.”
John 14.25-31 “These things have I said to you while I am still with you all. But the advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Most High will send in my name, She will teach you all things and She will remind you all of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you all. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, nor let them fear. You have heard me say to you all, ‘I am going away and I am coming to you,’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Creator, because the Almighty is greater than I. And now, I have told you this before it happens, so when it happens, you all might believe. I will no longer talk much with you, for the ruler of this world is coming and has nothing in me. Rather, that the world may know that I love the Creator of All, just as the Sovereign God commands me, so I do. Rise now, let us leave this place.
Reflection Driving cross town late Thursday afternoon it was as if a hot poker was piercing my heart and my gut felt twisted as a grapevine. I was not listening to the news, not in a traffic jam, not late for an appointment, in fact nothing was actually happening to which I could attribute the labor pains in my body. It made me think of our Hebrew Testament text from 1 Samuel in which the Philistines kill tens of thousands of Israelites and steal their most sacred object, the Ark of the Covenant, a gold plated vessel containing the Law given to Moses. Unspeakably precious to the Hebrew people, the Ark is the outward and visible assurance of God’s presence with them. Somehow my assurance of God’s presence with me was also stolen, but I have no ark and there are no Philistines to blame. There was no obvious cause for my restlessness.
So I did what my Jesuit Spiritual Director instructed decades ago. “When something with no obvious cause on the face of the earth is stirring deep within you, pause and ask, “Is this the Spirit of God or the enemy of human consciousness?” A few miles down the road it occurred to me, it could be either. It depends on how I choose to respond.
If I choose to experience the gut wrenching sense in my body as evidence of the enemy’s rampant success and myself as a vengeance seeking victim then like a violent tornado uprooting and destroying everything in its path, killing will continue with me and through me. But should I choose to experience my burning heart and twisted gut as a Divine invitation to labor for the glory of God, then like Eli’s newly widowed daughter-in-law I can use my words and actions to give birth to something new.
Here is the thing. Even though the treasured Ark of the Covenant may be stolen from the people, as promised by Jesus in John’s gospel, God’s presence is restored to all by “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit.” As an outward and visible assurance of God’s presence with us, like the Ark of the Covenant, Jesus is about to be stolen from this earth but like Moses law secured in the ark, the wisdom he teaches is written on the pages of our hearts and this cannot be stolen.
Returning to the person who came to my office and lamented,“I am weeping for the way things used to be and racked with fear for what may come,” I would like to suggest that one thing is missing from their sentiment. The present moment. Grief is for the past. Fear is for the future. But the present moment is what is real and it demands just one thing, consent.
What is consent? Consent means saying “Yes,” to reality as it is. Consent does not presume we approve or prefer things the way they are. Consent does not mean we escape risk. Consent is saying “Yes” to the present moment as exemplified by the fourteen year old unmarried peasant girl Mary who, when the Angel announces, “You will conceive in your womb and give birth to a son… and he will be great,” consents declaring, “Let it be with me according to your word." (Luke 1.26-38)
Thirty two years later Mary’s son consents to pick up his cross and submit to unspeakable suffering. Sweating fear in the face of his impending crucifixion, Jesus prays, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)
Consent is saying “Yes” to reality as it is which means, we make ourselves indifferent. As Eric Clayton writes in his book, Cannonball Moments,* indifference is not about apathy, uncaring, bitterness or giving up. In this context indifference is better understood as detachment, refusing to judge everything as it appears on the horizon of our lives. “Not preferring health to sickness, riches to poverty, honor to dishonor, long life to short life.”* By refusing to judge the present moment as good or bad, desirable or undesirable, deserved or undeserved we experience interior freedom, a spaciousness within which we can choose how we want to respond rather than react and become slaves to the situation or our emotional state.
As long as we react to external circumstances or our interior emotional state, we are not free. We are not free to discern wisdom written on our hearts. We are not free to experience God with us, not free to act for the glory of God. And when we are not free we live in fear.
Here is the thing. Something new is always preceded by labor pains. An acorn must fall to the ground, freeze and crack before a tender shoot emerges and gives rise to a glorious oak tree. The muscles of a woman’s uterus contract as pain sears her abdomen, groin and back until she strains with every ounce of her being to push something new into the world.
When we consent to restlessness, unsettledness, pain, even suffering rather than seek quick antidotes (think drugs, alcohol, obsessive compulsive doing whatever, looking for someone to blame) there is every chance we will find our selves stepping across a threshold into an expanded experience of freedom, freedom to be more whole and more holy, freedom to act for the glory of God.
Dear people of God, it is time for us to evolve from living in fear to living in freedom regardless of our circumstance. When we feel on edge with ourselves or with the world even though nothing is actually happening in the present moment, we pause, ask ourselves, “Is this the Spirit of God or the enemy of human consciousness?” then we choose how we will tell our story.
* Puhl, S.J., Louis J (1951). The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Loyola University Press. p12.
** Clayton, Eric A. (2022) Cannonball Moments: Telling your Story Deepening Your Faith. Loyola University Press. p128.
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