Thursday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Lectio Divina — Thursday of the Twenty-Seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Persistent

This week’s theme: Vineyard

1. Lectio — “Because of his persistence.”

“I tell you, if he does not get up to give the visitor the loaves because of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of his persistence.”— Luke 11:8

Persistent.

Jesus tells me a rather amusing story about a man who refuses to take no for an answer.

It is midnight. A neighbor is asleep. His children are tucked into bed. The door is locked. And outside stands a man who will not go away because another friend has arrived hungry and he has nothing to offer him.

What strikes me is that the persistent man is not asking for bread merely for himself.

He is asking for bread for someone else.

His persistence is directed toward hospitality, toward the needs of his neighbor, toward the common good.

And suddenly I must ask myself an uncomfortable question: Am I persistent in seeking what is good, or merely persistent in getting what I want?

Yesterday Jesus taught me to pray. Today He teaches me to be persistent in prayer.

But perhaps He also wants to change what I persistently pray for.

2. Meditatio — Ms. Hogna at the threshold

Upon entering my office here at The Glenn, I stop short.

There, at the threshold between my office and our house, is a rather persistent visitor.

Ms. Hogna.

A wolf spider.

I confess that my first impulse is not to welcome her. It is to eliminate her.

And yet, as I pause to consider this creature, I discover that I might have something to learn from her.

Unlike spiders that spin elaborate webs to capture their meals, Hogna wolf spiders are wandering hunters. They pursue prey, sometimes wait in burrows, endure changing temperatures, and persist through seasonal changes. Their survival depends upon patience, adaptability and an extraordinary capacity to keep going.

Ms. Hogna is persistent because that is how God has fashioned her.

And her persistence has consequences far beyond herself.

By preying upon insects and other small invertebrates, she helps regulate populations. Through her place in the food web, she participates in the movement of nutrients and energy through the ecosystem. Her presence may also suggest that this little corner of The Glenn continues to provide suitable habitat for creatures sensitive to environmental disturbance.

She is not consciously pursuing the common good as I understand it. Yet through her God-given nature, she contributes to the larger community of life.

And I?

I am not so sure my persistence accomplishes the same thing.

I can be remarkably persistent when I want to remove something that inconveniences me.

I can be persistent in defending my opinions, maintaining my routines, protecting my comforts, and making certain that the vineyard of The Glenn operates according to my plans.

But how persistent am I when the common good requires me to change?

Laudato si’ warns me about the temptation to address environmental problems merely by concealing their symptoms or reducing their immediate effects, without questioning the models of production and consumption that cause them.

I recognize that temptation.

It is easier to kill the spider than to understand her place in creation.

It is easier to spray the unwanted insect than to examine what conditions have allowed it to flourish.

It is easier to address the visible consequences of ecological damage than to change the habits that contribute to it.

And it is easier to call myself a steward of God’s vineyard than to ask whether my stewardship actually serves the whole vineyard.

Perhaps Ms. Hogna has appeared at precisely the right threshold.

Not merely the threshold of my office.

But the threshold between persistence and conversion.

I can persist in doing what I have always done.

Or I can persist in allowing God to change me.

3. Oratio — Teach me holy persistence

Lord Jesus,

You tell me to ask, to seek and to knock.

And today, at the threshold of my office, You have placed before me a creature that seems to know something about persistence.

Forgive me for the many times I have been persistent in the wrong things.

Persistent in my impatience.

Persistent in defending myself.

Persistent in protecting my comfort.

Persistent in trying to control the vineyard You have entrusted to me.

Teach me instead to be persistent in mercy, persistent in humility, persistent in prayer, and persistent in seeking the common good.

When I encounter a creature I do not understand, give me the patience to learn before I destroy.

When I encounter a problem in creation, give me the courage to examine its causes rather than merely conceal its symptoms.

When I encounter a person who challenges me, give me the grace to listen rather than immediately defend myself.

And when I fall back into old habits, do not let me surrender to discouragement.

Make me persistent in beginning again.

Lord, I knock upon the door of Your mercy.

Not because I deserve to enter, but because You have invited me to ask.

And today I ask for something more than the removal of my problems.

I ask for the grace to be changed.

Amen.

4. Contemplatio — Persistent grace in the vineyard

I continue thinking about Ms. Hogna, and Magnifica humanitas brings me to a remarkable distinction.

Paragraph 128 reminds me that becoming more fully human does not mean escaping my humanity or overcoming every limitation through my own ingenuity.

Rather, as Pope Francis explained:

“We become fully human when we become more than human, when we let God bring us beyond ourselves in order to attain the fullest truth of our being.”

That is an extraordinary thought to contemplate while looking at a spider.

Ms. Hogna does not need to become something other than a spider to fulfill her place in creation.

She needs to be a spider.

Her persistence is written into her nature.

But I am a human being, created with freedom, conscience and the capacity for relationships that can transform me.

And that means my persistence is not merely instinctive.

I can choose what I will persist in.

I can persist in selfishness or generosity.

I can persist in exploitation or stewardship.

I can persist in condemnation or reconciliation.

I can persist in the illusion that I am the owner of the vineyard—or acknowledge that I am only one of its tenants.

Magnifica humanitas makes another observation that seems especially important in this technological age.

An algorithm treats an error as something to be corrected. A human being, however, can discover within an error the beginning of profound transformation.

Perhaps that is what distinguishes the persistent Christian from the merely stubborn person.

Stubbornness refuses to admit error.

Holy persistence allows error to become the occasion for conversion.

I think about how readily I might have killed Ms. Hogna.

My first reaction could have ended the encounter.

Problem identified.

Problem eliminated.

System restored.

But what would I have learned?

Nothing.

I would have returned to my office, my comfortable routine, and my familiar understanding of the world.

Instead, this small interruption has made me consider the life of another creature, the ecological relationships within God’s vineyard, and the limitations of my own understanding.

Perhaps that is a tiny example of what Magnifica humanitas means when it says that my future is not calculable.

I am not condemned to repeat yesterday’s behavior.

My past mistakes do not determine every future choice.

By God’s inexhaustible grace, I can become someone different.

And perhaps this is where today’s Gospel and the vineyard finally meet.

The man in Jesus’ parable knocks persistently because someone else is hungry.

He does not persist merely for his own advantage.

He persists because love has given him a reason to keep knocking.

That is the persistence I want.

Not the persistence of the person who always insists upon being right.

Not the persistence of the landowner who refuses to reconsider his methods.

Not the persistence of the consumer who demands that creation continually satisfy his desires.

But the persistence of the disciple who keeps knocking upon the door of God’s mercy because the world is hungry for something better.

And here is the paradox:

The more persistent I become in seeking God’s grace, the more willing I must become to change.

Perhaps the greatest obstacle to conversion is not that I am insufficiently persistent.

Perhaps it is that I have become persistent in remaining exactly as I am.

Ms. Hogna has reached the threshold of my office.

I wonder whether I have reached the threshold of something greater.

5. Actio — Persistence that bears fruit

Today I will allow Ms. Hogna to challenge my instinct to eliminate whatever inconveniences me. If she remains inside the house, I will consider safely relocating her rather than killing her.

Then I will examine one persistent practice in my stewardship of The Glenn and ask whether it serves the entire community of creation or merely my own convenience.

And I will carry this question into prayer:

Am I persistent because I refuse to change, or am I persistent because I refuse to stop being changed by God’s grace?

For the vineyard does not become fruitful merely because I work harder.

It becomes fruitful when I remain in the Vine.

And perhaps that is the persistence Jesus asks of me today:

To keep asking. To keep seeking. To keep knocking. And to keep allowing the One who opens the door to change me.

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