On this Second Sunday of Lent, when Christ is transfigured on Mount Tabor and we peer into the eternal wedding feast of the Lamb, we should remember that we are not there yet. We are on a journey, up a steep mountain, and we need to “tighten our belts” as food is rationed on this trek. Two years ago, three of us, like Peter, James and John, “went up a high mountain” with Jesus, the highest mountain in Continental America (Mount Whitney). We were running low of food by the 16th day of the John Muir Trail, but we still had enough bread and wine for Mass. Christ was with us (and so were three intrepid Indian hikers, who shared their homemade Indian bread with us along the way), and so we were able to summit on Day 19 and scramble back down for burgers and beer in a Lone Pine restaurant. But it was quite an adventure to run out of food with forty miles of steep trail between us and a Seven Eleven. Each of us lost twenty pounds and gained an appreciation for God’s providence.
Eating less food is the most essential Lenten fast, and fundamental to our interior life. We can’t be attentive to God when we are stuffing our mouths with grub, or constantly thinking about which of the city’s restaurants we want to “experience.” As Beth Bubik told 150 women at St. Dominic’s in San Francisco last Saturday, when your brain tells your body it has to eat, your brain must “delay and pray.” You must tell your body: not just now, darling, and let’s say a few prayers. We can eat later! So: back off on the food and drink!
But these days we need to fast from something else if we want peace and the love of God. We need to fast from the cursed noise relentlessly vomiting from our devices. We must fast not only from food, but from noise. The other week I was in Paris, waiting in line to enter the great basilica of Sacré-Cœur (which dedicates the City of Lights to the Sacred Heart, along with the Immaculate Heart of Our Lady, Notre Dame). I was in line to enter the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, built on the tallest hill in Paris, Montmartre. The sun was going down, casting a roseate glow across the city below us and, in particular, over the vast marble domes above us. Hundreds of birds were calling to each other from the lofty trees that frame this neighborhood, singing that enchanting lullaby birds do just before the sun goes to bed. Most people in my line, however, were not looking at the sun setting over Paris. They were bent, zombielike, over little glowing screens. The young man behind me also had earbuds inserted and was kind of grunting to what I suppose was a kind of music coming through his earphones. He kept bumping into me, somewhat unaware, as both his hearing and his vision were impaired. I was getting angry. So I turned around and looked straight at him. He became aware of me at that point and backed up a little. “You should unplug your ears,” I said to him. To his credit, he unplugged his ears. “What?” he asked me. “I said,” trying to smile, “you should hear the beautiful sounds all around us, especially the birdsong.” Again, to his credit, he returned my smile, cocked his head, and said “yes, that sounds beautiful.”
We began talking. He was from Thailand, it was his first time in France, and we talked a little about the church we were about to enter, and the love of God. We parted, at the security checkpoint, with all goodwill, and I lamented my initial anger towards him. Every person is made in the image and likeness of God, and every person is Jesus. God, I prayed, help me to unplug my heart to see You in every person!
During my four days in Paris I took all sorts of public transport: city buses, underground metro, surface trains, and lots of sidewalks. 90% of the people in the busses and trains were staring at their phones, many with ears plugged up. And yet, how beautiful they were, even in their zombielike state. How beautiful is the City of Paris, God’s gift to the world! Beauty is all around us, especially in other people, made in His image and likeness. So let us abstain, not only from meat, but from noise. Let us fast, not only from food, but from artificially generated images and sounds. As the Desert Fathers would say, look up, not down!
Eating less food is the most essential Lenten fast, and fundamental to our interior life. We can’t be attentive to God when we are stuffing our mouths with grub, or constantly thinking about which of the city’s restaurants we want to “experience.” As Beth Bubik told 150 women at St. Dominic’s in San Francisco last Saturday, when your brain tells your body it has to eat, your brain must “delay and pray.” You must tell your body: not just now, darling, and let’s say a few prayers. We can eat later! So: back off on the food and drink!
But these days we need to fast from something else if we want peace and the love of God. We need to fast from the cursed noise relentlessly vomiting from our devices. We must fast not only from food, but from noise. The other week I was in Paris, waiting in line to enter the great basilica of Sacré-Cœur (which dedicates the City of Lights to the Sacred Heart, along with the Immaculate Heart of Our Lady, Notre Dame). I was in line to enter the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, built on the tallest hill in Paris, Montmartre. The sun was going down, casting a roseate glow across the city below us and, in particular, over the vast marble domes above us. Hundreds of birds were calling to each other from the lofty trees that frame this neighborhood, singing that enchanting lullaby birds do just before the sun goes to bed. Most people in my line, however, were not looking at the sun setting over Paris. They were bent, zombielike, over little glowing screens. The young man behind me also had earbuds inserted and was kind of grunting to what I suppose was a kind of music coming through his earphones. He kept bumping into me, somewhat unaware, as both his hearing and his vision were impaired. I was getting angry. So I turned around and looked straight at him. He became aware of me at that point and backed up a little. “You should unplug your ears,” I said to him. To his credit, he unplugged his ears. “What?” he asked me. “I said,” trying to smile, “you should hear the beautiful sounds all around us, especially the birdsong.” Again, to his credit, he returned my smile, cocked his head, and said “yes, that sounds beautiful.”
We began talking. He was from Thailand, it was his first time in France, and we talked a little about the church we were about to enter, and the love of God. We parted, at the security checkpoint, with all goodwill, and I lamented my initial anger towards him. Every person is made in the image and likeness of God, and every person is Jesus. God, I prayed, help me to unplug my heart to see You in every person!
During my four days in Paris I took all sorts of public transport: city buses, underground metro, surface trains, and lots of sidewalks. 90% of the people in the busses and trains were staring at their phones, many with ears plugged up. And yet, how beautiful they were, even in their zombielike state. How beautiful is the City of Paris, God’s gift to the world! Beauty is all around us, especially in other people, made in His image and likeness. So let us abstain, not only from meat, but from noise. Let us fast, not only from food, but from artificially generated images and sounds. As the Desert Fathers would say, look up, not down!
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