© 2017 Christina Chase
© 2017 Christina Chase
© 2017 Christina Chase
Recently writing about my current medical issues and concerns, I’ve decided that perhaps it is true: a picture is worth a thousand words. So, I’m sharing with all of you a picture of my body – an x-ray image of my torso. Although the image was taken in order to look for pneumonia, you can see my spine in it and, so, the interesting twists and turns of my backbone and deformity of my ribs. (Don’t say that I ever held back in bearing myself to you, letting you know me inside and out!)
Is it any wonder that surgery is not an option for me?
Last Sunday, we celebrated the Feast of Corpus Christi, The Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. On this great day, we are called to ponder the wondrous and generous Mystery and mercy of Christ’s Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist – as he perpetually gives himself wholly to us, body, blood, soul, and divinity. We also call to mind the profound Mystery of the Incarnation itself. God, The Creator and Master of the Universe, became a human being, one of us, with his own human body to live, suffer, and die. This is the most sublime and awesome act of love and unity.
In contemplating Christ’s sacred body, I consider my own little one. Consider yours, as well. Each of us is a frail, lovely, odd little creature – known and loved by God. Every hair on my head is counted, every cell embraced, every moment that this body of mine grows and breathes and ages is held as exquisitely precious to my Lord and my God.
Of what shall I be afraid?
Be at peace, little one, live your life in your blessed little body and be not afraid, your soul rejoices in your eternal home always, says my Savior God to me…
© 2017 Christina Chase
June is the month devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Catholic Church. You may ask, what is meant by the Sacred Heart of Jesus? Well, the Sacred Heart is Jesus. And devotion to the Sacred Heart is a devotion to the love of Jesus, devoting oneself to loving Him entirely. The heart is a symbol of love, of course, but also an ancient symbol for the core of one’s being, the sacred abode in which God dwells with the person… and more. I wrote more about the heart HERE, HERE, and HERE. For an article on the more scholarly particulars of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, please click HERE.
What does any of this have to do with strawberries? The answer to that is at the end, after a bit of reflective exploration…
Why Does Anything Exist?
There sure are a lot of titles for Mary, the mother of Jesus – more than I can list, or even know and remember. Virgin Mary. Blessed Mother. Our Lady. Our Lady of Sorrows. Our Lady of Perpetual Help. Queen of Heaven and Earth. And so on, and on, and on… besides the names given to her apparitions throughout the world, like Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Lourdes, Our Lady of Fatima…. All Mary.
I think it’s a case of giddiness – the good kind.
We Catholic Christians are Continue reading
Confusion isn’t always a bad thing…
Re-presenting here, in honor of Trinity Sunday, my thoughts on the unfathomable Mystery of the Holy Trinity. And by “unfathomable”, I mean totally confusing. I can tell you that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are not three separate gods, but, rather, three different Persons of the same (only) God – but that doesn’t mean I can understand it. As a former atheist, then deist, who chose Christianity in 2002, I am actually grateful for the endless confusion that is this Mystery of the Holy Trinity. It was rather easy when I believed in God without the triune majesty aspect – it was like, God is one and I’m done. But, trying to understand God as three Divine Persons is, well… impossible for my little human brain. And that’s a very good thing. For, as St. Augustine says, “Why wonder that you do not understand? For if you understand, then it is not God.”
Over the last 2000 years, there have been countless explanations and teachings about the Mystery of the Holy Trinity, all of which are worthy of contemplation, though, in the end, poor shadows and incomplete. But, I wanted to share one here. It uses a simple comparison to a very common substance on earth: H2O, or water. H2O takes on three different and distinct forms: vapor, water, and ice. A glacier is not a river, a cloud is not a puddle, and steam is not an ice cube, yet all are the same compound of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. God the Father is not God the Son is not God the Holy Spirit, yet all three are the same divine substance – all are equal Persons of the one true, living God.
Let’s Go with That…
With this analogy of H2O and the Holy Trinity, I’ve often wondered which form of water might be like which Divine Person and why. My wondering led me to this thought: vapor is like the Father, ice is like the Son, and liquid water is like the Holy Spirit.
No one “… has seen the Father…” God the Father is, to me, the most mysterious of the Divine Persons of the Holy Trinity. He is our Source, our Creator. He is over our heads, above us in being, like the clouds in the sky that send the nourishing rains. Therefore, water vapor is like God the Father, difficult to contain, always rising upward, if you will, toward the heavens.
The rain that comes down to us from the heavens is like the Holy Spirit, sent to renew the face of the earth. Water seeks containment, as does the Holy Spirit. Our bodies are mostly made up of water and Saint Paul tells us that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. The power of the Holy Spirit is given to us through the waters of baptism and it pools within us to give us true life – just as we need water to live. And yet, if water remains still it becomes stagnant, for it is its purest when it flows. So, too, the Holy Spirit seeks to flow through us, to work through us to erode obstacles and wash away sins. When we are filled with the Holy Spirit our cups run over and we share the abundance with others. Another thing about this analogy: rain always makes us look up toward the heavens, to the source – and the Holy Spirit in us causes us to cry out, “Abba! Father!”
The Second Divine Person of the Holy Trinity really doesn’t need an earthly comparison. Jesus Christ is the incarnate Son of God, the Word of God made Flesh. He is made Flesh so that we may come closer to God, so that we may see God and hear God and touch God… and, through the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, eat God. For this analogy of H2O, to better understand the Mystery of the Holy Trinity, I liken ice to the Son of God. Of the three forms of H2O, only ice has solid definition. Ice has definite shape and form, as does our Lord, Jesus. Ice can be held between our fingertips. We can smash and break ice. So humble and fragile was Jesus while He was with us on earth. And now, in the Eucharist, we can hold Him in our hands and we can crush Him with our teeth. (Mystery of Mysteries!) We can know that God is with us, substantially, given the right conditions, in the Divine Person of God the Son. Once He came to earth in the “ice age,” so to speak – and He will come again, as will another ice age. Meanwhile, when we receive Him in the Most Blessed Sacrament, Jesus is substantially within us for a short while… for about as long as it takes for an ice cube to melt.
In the End
This is an interesting way to try to understand the Mystery of the Holy Trinity, but by no means is it the only or best way. God, by being God, is always, necessarily, beyond our ultimate comprehension. Truly, there is nothing else like God. All analogies that we humans make to try to better understand God are limited because they are human. But, because our souls will always long for God, even while we are limited, there is inexhaustible blessing in faith that seeks understanding.
unpublished work © 2014 Christina Chase
with additions © 2015 Christina Chase
 St. Augustine, Sermons 117, 5
 John 6:46
 Psalm 104
 1 Corinthians 6:19
 Romans 8:15, Galatians 4:6
“And you beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow…”
There is so much suffering in the world. War, disease, starvation, abuse, murder… the heartache of billions of human beings. And we naturally question life, the universe, the powers that be, wondering why – why?????
I sit in the dark turmoil of my own brokenness and limitations with Job. Job, who not only lost his wealth, security, health and strength, but also his family – all of his loved ones dead. And, after all of that, he was supposed to still love God. But, how??? If this is what can happen to a good person who is loved by God, then what good is that supposed love?
Job questioned, too. His questions, in the divine light, were “words without knowledge”, merely obfuscating divine reason. The Fear of the Lord is the beginning of all wisdom, and, so, the answer for Job’s WHY began like this:
God thunders forth marvels with his voice;
he does great things beyond our knowing.
He says to the snow, “Fall to the earth”;
likewise to his heavy, drenching rain…
Out of its chamber the tempest comes forth;
from the north winds, the cold.
With his breath God brings the frost,
and the broad waters congeal.
The clouds too are laden with moisture,
the storm-cloud scatters its light.
He it is who changes their rounds, according to his plans,
to do all that he commands them
across the inhabited world.
Across the inhabited world, the Unmoved Mover has unquestionable power, unlimited might. We are but creatures, who, like the grass, may fall dead with the first breath of winter. Who are we to question God? As intelligent and imaginative as we are, human beings are dependent upon Creation and the Creator behind it all. Helplessly and hopelessly limited are we, at the mercy of the Almighty One, who makes and rules the universe and beyond.
It is only reasonable that we suffer Continue reading
The human body isn’t always pretty. Oh no. We all suffer, or will suffer, from one weakness or another, aches and pains and afflictions of countless kinds. Sometimes, just the things we do daily to survive – chewing, toileting, washing away sweat, dirt, and dead skin from our bodies – as well as being around those who might not wash themselves so well… let’s just say that there’s nothing pretty about any of this. Nothing romantic, lyrical, or ennobling.
And, yet… Continue reading
Last year, I was searching for a Madonna and Child print to hang in my bedroom. I had thought that I wanted an icon or medieval painting. After looking at hundreds of depictions, however, I grew weary of so many grave madonnas tolerating so many, adult-like babies. Where was the wonder and joy of the Incarnation? Nothing moved me with the touch of human tenderness, with the divine light of living, breathing love.
And then, I found it. “The Virgin of the Grapes” by Piere Mignard, circa 1640-1650.
Although, historcally speaking, the picture is far from accurate, the spirit of the work is exquisite in blessedness. The Christ Child is shown as a real child, with sweet baby flesh and a near mischievous little face. His mother Mary is beautifully peaceful, a joyful serenity on her visage. She delights in her child, but doesn’t smother. Her eyes are shown cast downward so as not to take away from the eager gaze of Jesus. He is seated on her, reminiscent of the ancient style, symbolizing Christ as the King seated on a throne – the throne being the soft, loving folds of Mary’s arms and lap. For Mary makes possible the Incarnation with her selfless submission to the will of God and with the humility of her generous motherhood. And none of this is dour. None of this is somber, burdensome piety. This is the beauty of love, this is the light of divine joy brought to us through human forms.
Even in this happy little scene, there is a touch of the sacrifice that is to come when the infant is grown into manhood. Mary innocently holds out a cluster of grapes that Jesus grasps fully with his baby fingers. The grapes symbolize the blood of the Eucharist – the Blood of Christ, poured out from the Cross, poured out for the multitude so that our sins may be forgiven. I believe a touch of the sacrifice must be shown in any good depiction of Jesus – for a good portrait shows the true identity of a person. Here we have a hint of the suffering amidst the joy of the coming of God among us. Should it not be so? As God is the fullness of reality, let us embrace reality fully – and not be afraid.
For God, in infinite love for us, comes intimately among us to reveal the divine light in the human. In Mignard’s painting, baby Jesus is playing partially beneath the veil that is covering his mother’s hair. In his sweet innocence, Christ is lifting the veil and peeking out to us.
Yes, let the angels sing, for Christ Jesus truly lifts the veil and reveals God to all of humankind. This is the holy Mystery of the Incarnation, inexhaustibly wondrous, profound, unfathomable… and as sweet and real as a little baby at play.
So, I take this image as my Faith Facilitator for this First Friday of December.
Oh, God, You so love the world
that You humbled Yourself to become one of us,
to live as we live so that we may love as You love –
lift the veil from my eyes,
lift the veil from my heart,
help me to pierce through time to eternity,
through space to infinity,
through my humanity to your divinity,
so that I may be transformed into the truth of your image and likeness
and bear love where there is hate,
bear hope where despair,
pardon where injury,
faith where doubt,
joy where sadness,
and light where darkness.
© 2014 Christina Chase
[This is part of the Faith Facilitators series. Read more here.]
 borrowing from the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi
How immature am I?
I went up the driveway for the sole purpose of coming down through the fallen leaves, which the wind had furrowed at the edge. That crisp, crackling sound of autumn underfoot, with the few remnants of golden leaves clinging to the bare limbs overhead, always elicits within me a feeling of merriment and rhythm of mirth. I did think that I must look like a person with diminished mental capacities (my most dreaded stereotype) going out of my way like that in order to maneuver my wheelchair over the dry leaves. But, I did it anyway.
To zigzag a sidewalk just to crunch the newly fallen oak leaves; to drive through the colorful drifts on rural roads; to rake up piles of the brittle bygones and jump in…. Perhaps the ones who are immature are those that consider this childish – while it is considered simply and blessedly childlike by those who are more fully human, fully alive.
“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” [Matthew 18:3]
The dipping flight of brightly colored birds first lit the imagination of the child, joyfully kicking his baby legs upon his mother’s knee. How many birds did he startle into flight when he first began to run, his own pulse rising with the fluttering of their wings? The sultry scent of summer’s twilight, heavy with blossom and ripening fruit, stirred within the growing youth the sweet ache of beauty and a deep sense of longing and mourning, feelings he did not yet understand, the ebb and flow of earth. How many thick leaves did he pull from hedges to crush within his hand, the sharp pungency clearing his mind to marvel at the tender, green flesh on his muscled own? When grown, he submerged in clear running waters, traced patterns in fine soil, felt the swaying tips of grains brush his fingers as he walked, and knelt in grassy garden beneath the stars and evening trees….
The Creator is an awestruck creature; and no blade of grass, no pebble, bud, or grain of sand is left unloved.
The secret years of Christ were neither for his public ministry nor for the record of sacred books – they were for him. For his body and soul, senses, imagination, memory, and delight – for his sacrifice. For, the blood that he poured out from his Sacred Heart upon the Cross was the blood of a man who lived, who loved, who knew the exquisite beauty and childlike joy of body and soul.
How mature it is, then – the blessed privilege of a redeemed and sanctified human being – to travel the paths of earthly splendor with a heart full of heavenly delight.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
© 2014 Christina Chase