The Paradigm-Shifting Moment
In times of difficulty, that which we need most of all is the Eucharist. Ironically, due to the type of difficulty we are in, the Eucharist is the one thing we cannot have. Yet we are blessed here in our town with the church being open for prayer three days each week, permitting us to remain in the real presence of Jesus. It truly makes a difference. And for those who do not have access to a church, being home gives us complete control over our schedule including the ability to schedule a specific time for prayer—and to keep it.
As with many Catholics of all rites, I have enjoyed spiritual communion with the masses offered online. On the Feast of the Annunciation of the Virgin Mary, the priest made a brief but profound point in his homily. The angel Gabriel stayed with Mary long enough to ensure she understood everything. Then he left. She had made a commitment that she couldn’t truly understand as a mere human, and then in a moment she was left alone to go forward living it.
There is so much to ponder in that, beginning with the loving nature of our God to ensure Mary was ‘ok’ before removing His angel. The presence of His angel would console her, freeing her of worry so she could make her choice with the freest of will. Rested in the consolation of God, confusion and instinctive anxiousness were relieved.
But in a heartbeat she was alone, left on her own to live her everyday life which would never again be ordinary. Surrounded by her loving extended family and betrothed one, nonetheless there would be no one truly capable of understanding her: her plight, her commitment, her challenges to come. She would need to remain first and foremost in ongoing conversation with God the Father even as she carried God the Son within her body.
How often have I felt alone on the journey? Misunderstood by everyone around me? The spiritual life is not one of equilibrium, of balanced ‘energies’ or forces within the universe. It is a life in which sometimes we traverse high tides and stormy seas that seek to overcome us. It is a life of low tides in which we bottom out on the hard ground with no future tide in site. Yet as long as we stay in the boat, we continue forward unharmed. We may incur some bruising when tossed about by crashing waves, but that is only because we have not learned to move with the boat. We undergo desolation in low tide, aided by the enemy implanting the universal negative into our thoughts: “it will always be this way”. But we stay in the boat, and the tide returns.
This is how each of us are to carry forward, particularly in these uncertain times. St. Ignatius of Loyola teaches that in desolation we should recollect in those past times of consolation with God. Certainly, Mary must have often recollected in those moments of God speaking through His angel and then the moment of her new Spouse, His Spirit, overshadowing her soul. While we will never experience the physical incarnation, we have Jesus incarnate in our heart, always present and waiting for us.
God is the boat within which we traverse life. We tend to use Him for transportation, maintaining all control of navigation for ourselves except when rendered totally helpless. There comes a point in relationship with God, however, that we realize we must surrender all navigation to Him. This is the life changing, paradigm-shifting moment. When, like Mary, we choose to accept it and offer our “Yes!” we begin to live the undercurrent of peace that cuts through all tides and storms.
More than that, now given eyes to see and ears to hear (Mt 13:16), we understand how each crashing wave and bottom-out experience is the opportunity to renew our “Yes!” so that God can fill us with even more of His peace. Let us not permit this opportunity to slip by, for the world needs His grace to reign upon us.
Article first published on SpiritualDirection.com, a project of the Avila Institute. https://spiritualdirection.com/2020/01/16/a-steadfast-spirit