Contemplation

St John of the Cross after a House of Blues reggae night on the town

…the tranquil night
at the time of the rising dawn,
silent music,
sounding solitude,
the supper that refreshes, and deepens love….

Spent a day and evening of leisure exploring Cleveland downtown after an afternoon of mass, Eucharistic adoration, and communal prayer. Beautiful weather, I enjoyed being a part of a bustling crowd alone. In solitude, I enjoy encountering large secular crowds, a part yet distant. The thought occurred that through immense and intense love, God allows freedom and the spiritual wildness of free will to run riot through time and space. God is the one heartbroken. Mary weeps as souls are lost. All that is good in the spiritual realm is silent in profound sadness regarding the misery we children of God bring upon ourselves.  The angels keep vigilant unceasing focus upon God. Father Rodger, my favorite Capuchin Tanzanian priest, spoke in his homily today about the resurrected Christ still possessing the wounds of the Cross. The glorified body not completely assumed to the Father, the resurrection wounds Thomas stuck his fingers in declare the unending brokenness of mankind. Christ’s victory over death would not be victory upon the earth for man. Man could accept Christ, be saved, yet still he would struggle, immersed within lives of sin.

Holy Mother pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death. Amen

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Consider suffering

I am immensely enjoying Henry Suso’s ‘The Life of The Servant’. Spiritually directing, the work also possesses an entertaining value I associate to a finely written novel. The adventures, or better yet the misadventures, of the eternal servant insightfully remind me of two classic novels Voltaire’s ‘Candide’ and Jerzy Kosinski’s ‘The Painted Bird’.  Ideas on suffering are the bonding element. Suso’s servant of eternal wisdom, the fourteenth century German Dominican preaching friar, should never wander away from his friary. Every time he parts from the protection of the religious order calamities of every and all kinds assail him: accused of being a well poisoner, arrested for being a wax thief, religious superiors attacking him, a shameful sister, tribulation during travel with an infamous murderer, a near fatal winter plunge into an icy river—the disasters never cease. I think of St Francis’ idea of perfect joy from the Fioretti or Little Flowers:

“Father, I pray thee teach me wherein is perfect joy.” St Francis answered: “If, when we shall arrive at St Mary of the Angels, all drenched with rain and trembling with cold, all covered with mud and exhausted from hunger; if, when we knock at the convent-gate, the porter should come angrily and ask us who we are; if, after we have told him, ‘We are two of the brethren’, he should answer angrily, ‘What ye say is not the truth; ye are but two impostors going about to deceive the world, and take away the alms of the poor; begone I say’; if then he refuse to open to us, and leave us outside, exposed to the snow and rain, suffering from cold and hunger till nightfall – then, if we accept such injustice, such cruelty and such contempt with patience, without being ruffled and without murmuring, believing with humility and charity that the porter really knows us, and that it is God who maketh him to speak thus against us, write down, O Brother Leo, that this is perfect joy. And if we knock again, and the porter come out in anger to drive us away with oaths and blows, as if we were vile impostors, saying, ‘Begone, miserable robbers! to the hospital, for here you shall neither eat nor sleep!’ – and if we accept all this with patience, with joy, and with charity, O Brother Leo, write that this indeed is perfect joy. And if, urged by cold and hunger, we knock again, calling to the porter and entreating him with many tears to open to us and give us shelter, for the love of God, and if he come out more angry than before, exclaiming, ‘These are but importunate rascals, I will deal with them as they deserve’; and taking a knotted stick, he seize us by the hood, throwing us on the ground, rolling us in the snow, and shall beat and wound us with the knots in the stick – if we bear all these injuries with patience and joy, thinking of the sufferings of our Blessed Lord, which we would share out of love for him, write, O Brother Leo, that here, finally, is perfect joy.

The medieval concept of earning Divine unification through the acceptance of suffering is spiritually uplifting. Henri Suso, as the servant, similar to St Francis, innocently embraces suffering in this whimsical manner. The words melt my heart, forcing me to bust out with cheerful laughter

God had gotten him (the servant) use to this: Whenever one affliction was over, another one soon took its place. God dealt with him thus constantly, but once he granted him a period of relief, though it did not last long. During this period of relief he came to a nuns’ convent, and his spiritual children asked him how things were going for him. He said, “I am afraid things are going quite badly for me, and this is why. It has been four weeks now since I have been attacked by anyone, either physically or with regard to my reputation, and this is quite unusual for me. And so I am afraid God has forgotten about me”.

Now compare the embracing of suffering for spiritual growth to the satirical enlightened approach of Voltaire. Voltaire mocks suffering, therefore attacking Church teaching and philosophical optimism. He opens the door for a Utopian society based upon enlightened human intellectual achievements, reform of authority and the equality of individuals, the stripping of the Church from governing authority. It is absurd for man to seek profoundness through suffering. The Age of Enlightenment, or Age of Reason, introduces cultural influences: philosophical, scientific, and political thought, which are determined to alleviate man’s suffering and produce equality amongst men through the achievements of great educated men. Proper government by an enlightened elite and technological advancements can bring about ultimate societal solutions. According to Voltaire, Candide and his companion Cacambo discover a utopian kingdom of advancement and equality in El Dorado.

…Cacambo asked one of the officers in what manner they were to pay their obeisance to His Majesty (El Dorado king); whether it was the custom to fall upon their knees, or to prostrate themselves upon the ground; whether they were to put their hands upon their heads, or behind their backs; whether they were to lick the dust off the floor; in short, what was the ceremony usual on such occasions.

“The custom,” said the great officer, “is to embrace the King and kiss him on each cheek.”

Candide and Cacambo accordingly threw their arms round His Majesty’s neck, who received them in the most gracious manner imaginable…

While supper was preparing, orders were given to show them the city, where they saw public structures that reared their lofty heads to the clouds; the marketplaces decorated with a thousand columns; fountains of spring water, besides others of rose water, and of liquors drawn from the sugarcane, incessantly flowing in the great squares, which were paved with a kind of precious stones that emitted an odor like that of cloves and cinnamon.

Candide asked to see the High Court of justice, the Parliament; but was answered that they had none in that country, being utter strangers to lawsuits. He then inquired if they had any prisons; they replied none. But what gave him at once the greatest surprise and pleasure was the Palace of Sciences, where he saw a gallery two thousand feet long, filled with the various apparatus in mathematics and natural philosophy.

A more modern approach to suffering is presented through the horrors of the Jewish experience during World War II in Jerzy Kosinski’s ‘The Painted Bird’ . Where Suso’ servant experiences spiritual growth through suffering, Kosinski’s child protagonist finds nothing amdist suffering.  Surviving is the immense and vital challenge, the only thing that matters. The child, desperately clinging to life, encounters sheer mindless cruelty during his Polish village to village wandering. Existential in nature, survival amongst the meaningless cruelty of mankind speaks through the work. Man is a broken hard and cruel creature. Horror is the scream of mankind. Hopeless survival wrestles supreme. The extreme violence within the novel ranks like no other novel I have encountered, aside from a Cormac McCarthy effort.

One day he trapped a large raven, whose wings he painted red, the breast green, and the tail blue. When a flock of ravens appeared over our hut, Lekh freed the painted bird. As soon as it joined the flock a desperate battle began. The changeling was attacked from all sides. Black, red, green, blue feathers began to drop at our feet. The ravens ran amuck in the skies, and suddenly the painted raven plummeted to the freshly-plowed soil. It was still alive, opening its beak and vainly trying to move its wings. Its eyes had been pecked out, and fresh blood streamed over its painted feathers. It made yet another attempt to flutter up from the sticky earth, but its strength was gone.”  —Kosinski: ‘The Painted Bird’

Overall quick thoughts on medieval Church teachings on suffering contrasted with more modern secular interpretations. Thy Will be done!!!

Finally, I decided to add more, building upon the idea of hopelessness and despair, suffering to the extreme.  We all have our horrors. No need to compare and contrast. Overcoming, truly accepting suffering is essential to spiritual growth. To process and draw close to God through grief is difficult, yet few growth is greater, abstinence from a habitual vice also producing monumental maturity. The understanding of a lack of hope produces an invigoration for hope. To understand the extreme of Godless creation is important in loving the Creator.  There is more to life than surviving. Nobody creates a more profound sense of hopeless survival than Cormac McCarthy.  I attach a video monologue from ‘The Road’. Notice the piano playing, it’s Nick Cave once again.  Notice also the ending.words: All I know is the child is my world and if he (the son) is not the word of God then God never spoke.

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Henry Suso axioms for the serious contemplative

The nature of some people has not been broken enough, and in this case the outer man remains present outside.

One disorder calls forth another.

Purity, understanding, and virtue make one rich in the natural realm. It sometimes happens, when those having such qualities withdraw, they become less before all creatures; and when this turns out well, they are directed to what is more perfect.

For a friend of God to be without victory is to have conquered.

A truly detached person should strive for four things. 1. To be completely upright in his conduct so that things flow from him without his activity. 2. To be proper and calm in his senses and not casting about…so that the inner senses might have a leisurely journey. 3. Not to be attached. One should be careful not to allow anything mixed with impurity to arise. 4. Not to be quarrelsome, but kind to those through whom God wants to help one withdraw.

Remain firm in yourself until you are taken out of yourself without your doing it yourself.

See whether intimate contact with good people arises from whim or simplicity. The first is too often the case.

All who use freedom wrongly take themselves as a model.

When a person wants to dwell in truth, his self-abandonment lights up his interior and he notices that a creature is still within him he wanted to have gone. He bears himself in patience and sees that he really is not yet free of things. To endure oneself thus is to become simple. Withdrawing causes weariness; in turning away it disappears.

Free yourself from everything your external judgment chooses, which binds your will and causes pleasure to your memory.

Letting one’s senses wander about far and wide removes a person from inwardness. See to it that you take up no business that carries you outward. When such business is looking for you, do not let it find you. Turn quickly inward to yourself.

Natural life manifests itself in movement and the activity of the senses. For anyone forsaking himself and losing himself, supernatural life begins in stillness.

Some people ascend without difficulty, but they do not long remain there.

–Henry Suso ‘The Exemplar: The Life of the Servant’

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Too much, too soon

After the first battles that arise when one checks the flesh and passions, a person comes to a deep pool in which many go under. This is capricious reasoning, when a person is freed from crass sinfulness and is released from images to which he was attached, and freely lifts himself above time and place, which previously bound him so that he could not at all enjoy his inborn nobility. But when the eye of the intellect begins to open and a person is searching to fulfill a different and better kind of pleasure, namely, (knowledge of) the truth, enjoyment of divine blessedness, the sight of the present “now” of eternity, and the like, and when the created intellect begins to understand a bit the eternal uncreated intellect in itself and in all things, it then in some strange way happens to a person that he looks at himself–what he was before, and what he now is– And he realises that before he was miserable, godless and in need, completely blind and far from God. But now it seems to him he is filled with God and there is nothing that is not God; further, God and all things are a simple one. He grasps things too quickly, not taking enough time, then he becomes unstable…. He rushes to that which he understands or what is presented injudiciously (unwise) to him by someone who is in the same situation. He is supposed to listen to this person alone and to no one else. Then he views everything as it pleases his thinking; and things elude his grasp as they really are in themselves, be it hell, heaven, devil or angel, because such persons have only grasped God in things and have not penetrated the things with knowledge that distinguishes them in their ground, things according to their permanence or transitoriness. These people are like bees making honey. When they mature and, for the first time, storm out of the hive, they fly confused this way and that and do not know where to go. Some fly off wrong and are lost, but others return to the hive in proper fashion. This is what happens to these people. When they see God with their uninformed intellect as all in all according to their undeveloped intellect, they want to leave this or that but do not know how. It is certainly true that everything must be removed from people if they are to become perfect, but they do not yet understand how this ridding (one’s) self of everything is to take place.

–Henry Suso ‘The Exemplar’

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Divine Mercy Sunday

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A wonderful Holy Day of communal worship, prayer–voices joining in harmony to toss roses at the feet of Our Holy Mother, sacramental participation, Eucharistic adoration, and immersion within the risen Christ. The Church is truly our home, a solace from the secular, a refuge from selfishness, an escape from egotism, a concentration away from the wanton, a pleasure to partake, an awareness of the eternal usurping the temporal.

Quotes from St Faustina:

“Jesus says; ‘My daughter, I want to instruct you on how you are to rescue souls through sacrifice and prayer. You will save more souls through prayer and suffering than will a missionary through his teachings and sermons alone. I want to see you as a sacrifice of living love, which only then carries weight before Me… And great will be your power for whomever you intercede. Outwardly, your sacrifice must look like this: silent, hidden, permeated with love, imbued with prayer.”

“From today onwards, I am going to strive for the greatest purity of soul, that the rays of God’s grace may be reflected in all their brilliance.”

“Let Souls who are striving for perfection particularly adore My mercy, because the abundance of graces which I grant them flows from My mercy.”

“I received a deeper understanding of divine mercy. Only that soul who wants it will not be damned, for God condemns no one”.

“Write, speak of My mercy. Tell souls where they are to look for solace; that is, in the Tribunal of Mercy. There the greatest miracles take place [and] are incessantly repeated. To avail oneself of this miracle, it is not necessary to go on a great pilgrimage or to carry out some external ceremony; it suffices to come with faith to the feet of My representative (confession) and to reveal to him one’s misery, and the miracle of Divine Mercy will be fully demonstrated. Were a soul like a decaying corpse so that from a human standpoint, there would be no [hope of ] restoration and everything would already be lost, it is not so with God. The miracle of Divine Mercy restores that soul in full. Oh, how miserable are those who do not take advantage of the miracle of God’s mercy!”

“Let the greatest sinners place their trust in My mercy. They have the right before others to trust in the abyss of My mercy. My daughter, write about My mercy towards tormented souls. Souls that make an appeal to My mercy delight Me. To such souls I grant even more graces than they ask. I cannot punish even the greatest sinner if he makes an appeal to My compassion, but on the contrary, I justify him in My unfathomable and inscrutable mercy. Write: before I come as a just judge, I first open wide the door of My mercy. He who refuses to pass through the door of My mercy must pass through the door of My justice…”

“I will not allow myself to be so absorbed in the whirlwind of work as to forget about God. I will spend all my free moments at the feet of the Master hidden in the Blessed Sacrament. He has been tutoring me from my most tender years”.

“Humiliation is my daily food. I understand that the bride must herself share in everything that is the groom’s; and so His cloak of mockery must cover me, too. At those times when I suffer much, I try to remain silent, as I do not trust my tongue which, at such moments, is inclined to talk for itself, while its duty is to help me praise God for all the blessings and gifts which He has given me. When I receive Jesus in Holy Communion, I ask Him fervently to deign to heal my tongue so that I would offend neither God nor neighbor by it. I want my tongue to praise God without cease. Great are the faults committed by the tongue. The soul will not attain sanctity if it does not keep watch over its tongue”. 

“Patience, prayer and silence–these are what give strength to the soul”.

“O Mary, Immaculate Virgin,
Pure crystal for my heart,
You are my strength, O sturdy anchor!
You are the weak heart’s shield and protection.
O Mary you are pure, of purity incomparable;
At once both Virgin and Mother,
You are beautiful as the sun, without blemish,
And your soul is beyond all comparison.
“Your beauty has delighted the eye of the Thrice-Holy One.
He descended from heaven, leaving His eternal throne,
And took Body and Blood of your heart
And for nine months lay hidden in a Virgin’s Heart.
“O Mother, Virgin, purest of all lilies,
Your heart was Jesus’ first tabernacle on earth”.

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The Essence of Prayer Perfected

This divine knowledge of God never deals with particular things. This sublime knowledge can be received only by a person who has arrived at union with God, for it is itself that very union. It consists in a certain touch of the divinity produced in the soul, and thus it is God Himself who is experienced and tasted there… –John of the Cross

St John of the Cross Adoring

St John of the Cross Adoring

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Listening reflections

Ethereal reconciliation, lacking material or cognitive substance, no suspecting or expecting, recompense put on indefinite destitution. I wait for marching orders, receiving none. I know a break from the recent was necessary, beyond repair, indispensably detached, no looking back, wandering away on into…nothingness appears, emptiness and void creating, mandating prayer, a purer, simpler path, cleansing, mortification, mass receiving, the Eucharist, options move about, appearing as shadows within a fog, patience, waiting, calling loudly forth.

The Resurrection, anticipating assumption, judgement and the love of Christ. Mary pierced, seven sorrows sadly sanctifying.

A new home, temporary and refined, distance demanding, alone amidst good people. Complications arise. A bulldog penetrating, mishandled, scared fearful, psychologically wounded, fierce and unrelenting in intent, an alpha male only two months in a new home at two years of age. A piercing thundering bark, unable to repose, the muscular bulldog weighing in close to ninety pounds, will not give me a chance. Insanity pursues, the bulldog, constantly hyped, perpetually preps for an attack, so agitated by my presence it breaks out in a rash, its throat swelling. The bulldog will not accept. Madly, self-will barks through the pain of individual mongrel past. Neighbors beware, this bulldog is fierce. A four legged beast becomes dictating. The bulldog attempts a bite, a professional is called in, a will and a prayer. The trainer, producing only animal agitation, speaks of the seriousness of the canine misbehavior, psychological complications, recommending sedating pet medication, a muzzle, the fact a bulldog of this magnitude is a formidable challenge. Techniques brought into practice, the energy drain becomes enormous. Greater horizons, a seeking. Discerning endeavor, God’s will absorbed. Nothing determined.

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