Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Dec 10 2024

Awakened by the Light

Ever since that night on the mountain, I, John, have been awestruck by light.

Jesus was up the hill in prayer. I drifted in and out of sleep. Peter snored. James wheezed. From the corner of my eye, I saw brightness through the trees. “What is that?” my half-awake brain wondered. I nudged Peter and James. We looked. Jesus was glowing. I thought groggily, “Does he always shine like that when he prays?” We crept closer.

Suddenly, the night sky above the mountain burst into flame as if something was on fire. But nothing was being burned. I was fully awake now! That light emanated from within Jesus, brighter than any light that I have ever seen. Two others were alight there also, speaking with the Lord. Peter mumbled about tents. A thick cloud descended on us. A voice thundered.

It all happened so fast. Then . . . like a mist that lifts from the water, nothing. Just Jesus, still praying. The night felt so dark after that light. I was stunned. I could not speak. The place where we were standing was holy ground.

Now, after all these years, it only takes a sparkle of ordinary light to reawaken that glory. When I see the glistening of the morning, my heart remembers and shivers. As I watch the moonlight on the ocean, my lungs swell with burning. When I look at the stars, so bright, here on this island, I feel as though I could explode with joy. I am no longer half asleep to his radiance; I am fully awake. I see that all that he created is alive with his life, his presence! And his life is the light of us all!

My people tell me that my face glows when I pray. How could it not? I have seen the Light of the world! And the darkness cannot overcome it!

Consider/Discuss

Abram saw the light of the stars and trembled at God’s promise. St. Paul was thrown to the ground and saw the light of Jesus; from then on, he fervently worked for the heavenly kingdom. What glimpses of light have awakened you to God? How have those flashes of glory transformed you and changed the course of your life?
Sleep is good. Deep slumber is healthy. Yet even in darkness, behind our eyelids, we can be awake to the presence of the Lord. As a Lenten training exercise, as you are falling asleep this week, take a few moments to enter into that darkness within you and allow the light of God to shine in your inner space. How does God want to glow within you as you pray?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, I have been in a bit of a stupor, resting my weary head. Spiritual sleep has threatened to overtake me. Awaken me this day! You are my light and my salvation! Strengthen my eyesight to see you. All that is bright is in you; all that glistens is in you; all that sparkles is yours. Flash! Shine! Dispel my drowsiness! Gleam upon me this day, God of glory!

Dec 10 2024

There’s No “I” on God’s Team

Americans don’t necessarily get it. We live and breathe in an individualistic world.

The writings of the Bible, however, arose within the Mediterranean world. In the air that Jesus breathed, each person was embedded in a group. Family loyalty was required. Honor to one was honor to all. There was no “I” in “the team.”

If we think of today’s story individualistically, Jesus and the devil are two boxers in a private sparring match. But no! From a communal mindset, the devil isn’t just asking Jesus to worship him. He is tempting him to switch allegiances. He is conniving to steal the star quarterback! The evil one offers Jesus a rich reward to join his team and honor him as leader. The devil is crafty. He wants to win. He is not just messing with Jesus. He is messing with God’s team.

How will Jesus respond? Will Jesus swap sides for personal power or honor or food? No way. He stands firm. He knows to whom he belongs: “You shall bow only before the Lord,” he says.

The devil goes away “for a time.” But he’ll be back . . . We begin Lent this week. Like Jesus, we head out into the desert. For forty days, we’ll go into training, a good Lenten workout. If we take our exercises seriously, our spiritual muscles will ache where we are weak. Why do we want to be spiritually stronger at Easter? It is not just for ourselves, for our own glory or honor. We are important to God’s team, too. We work together for good in this world. Hatred and evil must not win.

We may be tempted to give up when the training seems hard. The central question of Jesus’ temptation then comes to us as well: Whose team will we choose?

Consider/Discuss

A friend from Rwanda has a strong sense of “us.” She bemoans how her nine-year-old daughter has adopted the mindset of American individualism; her girl does not “get” the sense of family and community within which she grew up in Africa. What kind of family/community identity did you grow up in? How does that affect how you see your place on God’s team?
St. Ignatius says that our impulses come from three places: from evil, from self, and from God. As we wrestle with temptations this Lent, how can we grow stronger in discernment, so that we recognize where our inclinations come from? What kind of “training plan” can we make to create the space to learn to lead a more self-reflective, self-disciplined, and prayer-filled life?

Living and Praying with the Word

God of Gods and Lord of Lords, you are the one to whom we belong. Jesus headed into the desert for spiritual training. This Lent, we follow him into training as well. Help us to take the time to exercise hard enough to get into the game. You know that sometimes we are tempted to slack off, content to sit on the sidelines and just watch your team play. But you are our God, God alone. We want to bring you honor, Divine Coach. Show us how to go. Holy Spirit, teach us how to be strong.

Dec 10 2024

The Life of an Apprentice

We don’t know much about St. Joseph the carpenter. He is quiet in the scriptures. But in the collection of the maxims in Luke’s Sermon on the Plain, we might hear his voice and feel his influence: sound trees, rotten trees, splinters, logs, measures, judgment . . . sounds like lessons from a carpenter shop, doesn’t it?

Imagine Jesus as a three-year-old. He wants to do everything his daddy does. As Joseph planes a board, a shaving falls into the little guy’s eye. The splinter irritates and waters for days before the tears flush it out. He cannot see. Does he learn what it is like to be temporarily blind? Does he worry about falling into a pit?

Imagine Jesus at ten. He is excited about the cedar log that looks so solid, so promising on the outside. It will make a fine bench. Joseph cautions him, “Hold your judgment until you see what’s inside.” When the boy splits into it, is there heart-rot in the core?

Imagine Jesus at thirteen. He wants to rush ahead on his own with a project that he is working on. Joseph slows him down, steadies his hand: “Wait for me. Measure carefully. An apprentice is no greater than his teacher. Listen and learn. One day you will be like me.”

Imagine when Joseph is dying. In his behind-the-scenes way, Joseph had borne good fruit. From the abounding love in his heart, his mouth had quietly spoken. Did the young man recognize the store of goodness in his father’s heart?

Jesus uses the word “Father” a lot. When he prays in the hills at night, he calls on his Father. When he teaches us to pray “Abba, Daddy, our Father,” he begins with an expression of deep tenderness. Did that too come from the carpenter shop?

Consider/Discuss

In the old days, a father taught his son a trade, showing him how to do as he did. Jesus says, “A fully trained disciple will be like his teacher.” The early church fathers suggest we take up that apprenticeship model as we grow in faith. The ultimate holiness is to become like Jesus, to be “divinized.” The saints help to show us how; some are very quiet about it. To whom would you like to apprentice yourself today?
Our world is full of noise. Lots of people are saying a lot of things. How do we know what is true? How do we know what is wise? Sometimes, like Joseph, it is the quiet ones, who live the life and walk the walk, who embody the sayings in today’s scriptures. This week look for “a silent one,” someone you would like to get to know better who could help you toward holiness.

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you don’t want us to live a barren and empty life. You want our hearts to be abundant in kindness and care for others, to keep on giving. You want us to bear good fruit, to keep on loving. You ask us to become like you, to keep on trying. St. Paul tells us to be firm and steadfast, recognizing that our labor for you is not in vain. We surrender our hearts and our lives to you this day. Make us your own, the saints that you call us to be. St.Joseph, quiet and loving, pray for us this day!

Dec 10 2024

Looking Your Enemy in the Eye

I will never forget the child-soldier stories from moral theology class. Our professor had worked with children in Uganda. He talked about how the Ugandan Resistance Army (LRA) would intentionally malform the conscience of their eight-year-old abductees. They made them sit on the bodies of their dead parents. Their friends were shot in front of them. When they trained the new boys to kill, most importantly they told them, “Do not look your enemy in the eye.”

You and I might not live in the horrible world of a Ugandan child soldier. Our enemies might not be so obvious. But what happens to our conscience if we do not look our enemy in the eye? They become inconsequential, of no importance. We can justify doing anything to them.

In today’s story of David and Saul, the young shepherd wrestles with his conscience. He’s got the king in his grasp. Saul has been horrible to him, hunted him down as an enemy. Now, David has the chance to kill him. But he doesn’t. The key line of the story is actually the line that comes after today’s reading ends. David says, “I regarded your life as precious today.” He sees Saul’s value through God’s eyes. He cannot kill him.

Twice in today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” Why? Because the Most High is “kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.” God looks the most wayward in the eye and sees his/her value.

God looks at you and me as precious. God has looked us in the eye and seen our worth. No matter how far we fall short, we are loved. That is the mercy that we have received. That is the mercy that Jesus asks us to extend: Look your enemy in the eye; see their value and do good to them.

Is that easy? No. Is it right? Yes.

Consider/Discuss

Experts in conscience formation tell us that there are five (or more) ways to harden a conscience: excuse, justify, rationalize, avoid, and blame. On our own power, we cannot see our enemies charitably. We are tempted to lessen their value as a human being. How can we permit the Holy Spirit to soften our conscience today so that we see our enemy’s value through God’s eyes and not our own?
Today’s psalmist says, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits . . . [He] redeems your life from destruction and crowns you with kindness and compassion.” We can best extend kindness and compassion when we have reflected on the kindness and compassion shown to us. In this upcoming week, look back upon your life and write down the many kindnesses that God has shown to you. From what “destruction” has God redeemed your life?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, how can we be kind to the ungrateful? That’s a lot to ask! It is so much easier to love the child who draws us hearts, the aunt who bakes us pie, the student who smiles and nods, the co-worker who has our back in tough situations. Those others? Ha! We’d like to write them off. They are worthless and never helpful. What’s that? You see things differently? Aargh . . . Okay. Help us to see them as you see them. Change my heart, Lord! Help me to start today, by your grace to take one little step toward loving my enemy. Only in you can it be done. Oh, please, help!

Dec 10 2024

Only God Lasts Forever

The Sermon on the Mount in Matthew gives us the sayings about who is blessed: the poor in spirit, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, etc. Today we get Luke’s version, the Sermon on the Plain, where Jesus adds, “Woe . . . woe . . . woe . . . woe . . . .”

Why does Jesus use the word “woe” more than anyone in the Bible? I had to go look that up. The Greek term for “woe” is an interjection of grief. It sounds like this: ooo-AH-ee: it’s kind of like a moan, a noise that you make when you are in sorrow or distress. My great-grandmother might have moaned “woe” or “alas.” But nowadays? What word do we have? Maybe a deep gut-wrenching “Whoa”? Or “Oh my gosh!” Or “Oh no!” (or less-printable things). Woe is not an expression of condemnation. Jesus is grieving for those who trust in things that don’t last. Those who are full will be hungry again. Those who are well thought of, well, their reputation could crash.

Jesus knows that anything can happen. Woe is not just for “those folks.” A tree can fall on your swing set in the night. A neighbor who was robustly healthy dies suddenly on Tuesday. A friend who is eight months pregnant loses her baby. You’ve seen it. Life is tenuous. We travel a world of woe. Sometimes we mess up. Sometimes it just comes upon us. “Woe” happens.

If this life is all there is, St. Paul tells us today, then we are the greatest of fools, the most pitiable of people. We believe there is more, an eternity that matters.

Things don’t last. God does. That’s what we can rely on. Jesus knows our struggles to trust through the trials and the blessings of life. He moans in grief for us: ooo-AH-ee. Maybe we should take up that cry, too?

Consider/Discuss

It is the middle of February, starvation season in many agrarian cultures, funeral season in many churches. This is a difficult time to hear of “woe.” Yet Jeremiah and the psalmist tell us to plant ourselves securely, like trees by running water, the water of God. How can you plant yourself in the waters of God in your current life situation?
In Greek it is ooo-AH-ee. There doesn’t seem to be a consistent word that we all use in English. What word or expression do you use to release gut-churning unhappiness? What do you say?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you moan over the sorrows in our world. We moan, too. There is a time for everything—a time to laugh and a time to weep, a time to live and a time to die. You know the vagaries of life. Help us not to grieve you.

In the middle of winter’s barrenness, we rejoice that you have overcome the woes and the difficulties. You have given us your resurrection. Death and pain are not the final answer! Help us to trust in that. Come, Holy Comforter, and groan within us. Then bring us your peace.