The call within the call.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
    a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. Psalm 51:17

Your eyes are like a window for your body. When they are good, you have all the light you need. Matthew 6:22

We can do not great things, only small things with great love. What is important is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it. –Mother Teresa

So yesterday I hitchhiked for the first time.

One thing God has been speaking to me about on this journey is the good humility that comes from receiving hospitality, to confessing need and to open up one’s hand instead of one’s front door. Which for me is a lot easier. I like opening up the front door.

But I don’t have one any more.

So I held up an assortment of signs and held out my thumb on the curve of the road suggested to me by the desk clerk, right next to the sign announcing the exit of Assisi, leaving the city of peace.

And honestly, it was not out of financial need that I hitchhiked. I had a pocket full of euros. It was more about the need to practice asking and receiving. And it gave me a tiny glimpse from the eyes of those who ask by the side of the road. Eyes that look with hope at each passing stranger. And a tiny longing of expectation, perhaps this will be the one…

Swish, swish, swish. Car after car zipped by, with barely a glance. Each car dangling a Francis cross from its rearview mirror. Swish.

And so many times I have swished past. And edged past with the anxious excuses and averted eyes of the priest and the Levite. And I also felt the weight of my God Bless America country and our collective closed fist.

And once a car slowed down and indicated with hand signals that he was not going in my direction.

And as time wore on, I had to move forward to keep standing in the shade. Later on there was no shade. Just the hot sun and the hot pavement.

But I made the decision. I chose to stand in the sun. It was an option that so many do not have.

And after a long while, a small black car pulled over and a kindly man opened the door. And he really wasn’t going to take me far. He took me to the train station. And gave me two euro to buy coffee. And asked for prayer for his mother-in-law who is having surgery today. And I drank an espresso and went to the toilet and greeted a fellow pilgrim who was returning to Munich.

And then I stood just a bit down the road from the train station. In just a bit, another man pulled over and opened the door. And I didn’t exactly understand what he was saying; I thought he was saying that he could take me half way since he was on his way to Milan. But really, he too wanted to find me a better place to stand, at the entrance to the highway to Milano.

The sun was quite hot now.

The cars were slowing down to take a right to Assisi or speeding up to go to Milano, when one last car pulled over. And he was a young guy, who tried to come up with lots of options for me to do anything but hitchhike. And finally we decided that the best thing would be for me to take a cheap bus to Bologna, the one his girlfriend always takes to visit her family. So he drove and drove way out of his way, to leave me at the bus stop at Perugia.

So I took the bus. In addition to receiving rides and coffee, I would also like to practice receiving advise.

And each of these men did small things with great love.

And even though this was just a morning in my very full life, I am hoping that it becomes a road marker in my mind and heart, and mostly in my eyes.

May I have the eyes of the one standing or sitting or even lying by the side of the road.

And may this light fill my body, and my hands and feet each day.

He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.” –Luke 10:37

Olive trees planted on every hill.

I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever. Psalm 52:8

The Lord is my shepherd and nothing is wanting to me. In green pastures He hath settled me. Psalm 23:1

If you want to change the world, go home and love your family. –Mother Teresa

So, planted it is. And one thing I learned about olive trees is that they sure don’t need much water because their roots grow down deep and wide and wrap around the bed Rock. The trunk is typically gnarled and twisted and that is okay.

So I stared One Day In Rome in the face and did the Buy tickets on the Vatican website and not stand in line thing first, and then I found one of those free walking tours that meets at ten in the morning near the Spanish Steps. And the best thing about these tours are not the expressive-with-her-hands woman who love anthropology or the wandering around with a large clump following a little colorful rag held up on a stick through the crowds, but the other sorts of people who show up for a free lecture that is a little hard to understand but at least you get some perspective.

The first people I met as we sort of hoped that the lady would show up because it was ten minutes late was Olivia from India but who grew up in Dubai. And her friend was from Palestine and had grown up in Dubai. And I laughed and said that I would never forget her name, because today I was meditating on what it meant to be an olive tree. And to trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever. And she asked about that. And actually Mary Anne ended up looking in her friend’s eyes, whose name I of course promptly forgot, and speaking of Jesus. And their embrace at the end of the two hours was profound. And Olivia is going to visit her sister in Los Angeles next year and now we are Facebook friends.

And there was Juan David from Colombia who has been traveling one out of his three months. And we talked about The Way and how each person on our travels is seeking Love and Mercy. Pope Francis has made God’s mercy an easy thing to talk about this year. And now we are Facebook friends.

And Antonio from Peru but who had grown up in fear in Miami, illegally gets his citizenship next year. And he is a music teacher and he loves middle schoolers. And of course we talked about if you love middle schoolers, you have a moral obligation to teach them because it is such a hard time in life. And his dream, once he gets his papers, is to teach in an international school, so of course I had a few words to say about that. And now we are Facebook friends.

May You be for us a moon of joy and happiness. Ethiopian Prayer

And somehow when I look up at the moon I always think about the moon shining down and man looking up all over the world. And that makes sense, because people seldom squint up into the sun, but we all look up at the moon and wonder.

And I think about my green pastures in which I am settled. The green pastures of His Love is Sufficient.

Perspective.

And one version of Francis’ prayer before the Cross of San Damiano asks for wisdom and perspective in order to do truly His holy will. And I have been praying that a lot these days, especially the Most Highest and Glorious God.

And Fred from Germany messaged me this week. And he is thinking about traveling around Latin America next semester with Alex from Young Life and what did I think, was that running away from his problems? And I told him, No way. That is seeking perspective. And wisdom.

And perspective has a lot to do with seeing with right faith, firm hope and perfect charity. In profound humility. And Ann Verkamp talks about guarding our heart from the Accuser, Maybe the most important part of your body to control is your index finger — because it’s most like the devil:  It most wants to point and prosecute. It needs more people to honestly point out their own sins — and humbly point up to everyone’s Savior.

The humility thing. Marco reminded me that an instrument of peace lies in the hands of the Master Musician. At rest.

Matteo told me about this ninety-five-old-lady who shares her wisdom and perspective in stories. And one of her stories is about when she asked about a difficult person in her life. And Mother Teresa replied, “Love her even more.”

Love.

Perfect love.

Perfect love casts out fear.

And the thing about Assisi is that I think that entire countryside is planted with joy. Deep-seeded joy from centuries of brown-frocked fearless love.

Chesteron said that “St. Francis is the mirror of Christ rather as the moon is the mirror of the sun. The moon is much smaller than the sun, but it is also much nearer to us; and being less vivid it is more visible.“

May You be for us a moon of joy and happiness.

So I have wrapped my wrist with a Franciscan cross as a reminder of the shining light of a moon.  Of a prayer to The Most Highest. Double superlatives. And I have asked for His Sacred Heart. His heart of love that pursues. Even to the cross. Lifted up, not for condemnation, but that the world, through Him, might be saved.

And as he lay dying, Francis declared, one last time echoing the words of His Lord: And If you would go anywhere or make any pilgrimage, return always to your home; for this is the holy house of God.

What is a pilgrimage? asked Juan David.

A journey that starts from your front door.

And beloved Sam Gamgee, and he went on, and there was yellow light, and fire within; and the evening meal was ready, and he was expected. He drew a deep breath. ‘Well, I’m back,’ he said.

Home.

The “chicken or pasta” lunch has been selected. The honey and ginger ice cream from Buckinghamshire has been devoured with the tiny plastic spoon hidden in the lid. The red wine in a plastic cup has been drunk. And the table cleared of all except one last bottle of natural water.

Home.

A green olive tree planted.

Settled pastures.

World changer, one love at a time.

Jesus also promised her: Know this, My daughter, that by the charity of My Heart I desire to pour out floods of graces through your heart over the hearts of others. This is why people will come to you with confidence; it will not be your personal qualities which will attract them, but Me. No one, even the most hardened sinner, will leave your presence without having received, in one way or another, consolation, relief, or a special grace.

And the oft-repeated question in the Spielberg/Hanks movie Bridge of Spies that we watched as we flew over the swaying Atlantic Ocean on the way back to Newark and Denver and home was, “Aren’t you worried?”

And the quiet Russian spy always answered, Would it help?

Ann ends with this prayer: In the midst of everything: Trust that Grace will always meet you.

Selah.

Would Jesus honor me with such a task?

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Matthew 5:7

I am reading yet another book on the Beatitudes. And this one is radically different than the theoretically radical Christian Counterculture by John Stott. Mostly because in truth, his book is all theory, and none of it lived out in the streets. While Heidi Baker’s book, Compelled by Love, is completely lived out in the streets…of Mozambique. And in the trash bins and cardboard shacks and plastic tarp kitchens and the overpopulated hospitals. And it is the sort of book that I long to read aloud to everyone I meet, in spite of its simplistic syntax and repetitive word choice.

But most of all let me read it aloud to my heart. To speak truth into my world, as I await Him. And may this prayer seep deeply into my innermost being, as I drive there and back again, to His majestic Canyon, which never ceases to speak of the eternal to my soul.

Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go.
Flood our souls with your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly,
that our lives may only be a radiance of yours.
Shine through us, and be so in us,
that every person we should come in contact with
may feel your presence in our soul.
Let them look up and see no longer us, but only Jesus.
Stay with us, and then we shall begin to shine as you shine;
so to shine as to be a light to others;
the light, Jesus, will be all from you.
None of it will be ours.
It will be you shining on others through us.
Let us thus praise you in the way you love best,
by shining on those around us.
Let us preach you without preaching:
not by words, but by our example,
by the catching force,
the sympathetic influence of what we do,
the evident fullness of the love our hearts bear for you.
Amen.

                                                                       -John Newman/Mother Teresa