The Stained Glass Buffalo: bare yourself to bear yourself.

11 December 2011

bare yourself to bear yourself.

The brilliant ravishing autumn foliage of autumn has vanished, and the trees stand stark and bare. In early winter I delight in gazing upon the sunset through the elaborate patterns of branches that partition the pink sky like the elegant tracery of a stained glass window.

The trees, with their bare branches reaching quietly toward the sky, toward the dying sunset light, seem to share in the pleading of our Advent Prayer: Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Early Christians traditionally prayed with their arms out stretched toward heaven, from where the Lord was expected to come again. The bare trees with their branches outstretched is a symbolic reminder for the monk and for all Christians, especially during this Advent journey, that we, too, must gaze at all times toward him with deep yearning.

A Monastery Journey to Christmas
Br. Victor-Antione D'Avila-Latourrette

It is Jesus

“It is Jesus that you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is He who reads in your heart your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle.

It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be ground down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal.”
--Pope John Paul II

Carlo Carretto:

How much I must criticize you, my church, and yet how much I love you! You have made me suffer more than anyone and yet I owe more to you than to anyone. I should like to see you destroyed and yet I need your presence. You have given me much scandal and yet you alone have made me understand holiness. Never in this world have I seen anything more compromised, more false, yet never have I touched anything more pure, more generous or more beautiful. Countless times I have felt like slamming the door of my soul in your face - and yet, every night, I have prayed that I might die in your sure arms! No, I cannot be free of you, for I am one with you, even if not completely you. Then too - where would I go? To build another church? But I could not build one without the same defects, for they are my defects. And again, if I were to build another church, it would be my church, not Christ's church. No, I am old enough, I know better.