A weekend of defining, living, concluding

The breathing of the air,
the song of the sweet nightingale,
the grove and its living beauty
in the serene night,
with a flame that is consuming and painless.
–St John of the Cross, ‘Spiritual Canticle’

Patience a virtue. Christ awaits the return of His children. Forgive my trespasses Lord Jesus. Many times I have tested You. I deserve the wrath of Your hand, But You see greater things: Your patience enormous! Grant me a droplet of Your endurance. Grant me the fortitude and strength to abolish my impious impatience, able to reflect Your serenity. Great is the Lord Jesus in wisdom! Holy Mother, sheltering with your mantle, accompany me.

A time of living, solid in faith, building upon hope, loving all the time. I felt the need to live strong this weekend, experiencing and aware, healthy while building, prayerful the whole time. Silent and still before the Eucharist is easy. Living in the world is the difficult part. This weekend I consumed and participated, remaining distant, knowing God calls at all times. I am no Saint Faustina. In all my awkwardness, I have begged for a sign. Some have been given, signs appearing, yet definitive direction remains amiss. Life unfolds as a mystery.

St Faustina tells of marvelous spiritual direction:

“Once I was at a dance with one of my sisters and while everybody was having a good time, my soul was experiencing internal torments. As I began to dance, I suddenly saw Jesus at my side, Jesus racked with pain, stripped of his clothing, covered all over with wounds, who spoke these words to me, “How long shall I suffer and how long will you keep on deceiving Me?” At that moment a charming music stopped, and my company vanished from my sight; there remained Jesus and I. I took a seat by my dear sister, pretending to have a headache in order to cover up what took place in my soul. After a while, I slipped out unnoticed, leaving my sister and all my companions behind, and made my way to the Cathedral of Saint Stanislaus Kostka (Lodz). It was almost twilight; there were only a few people in the cathedral. Paying no attention to what was happening around me, I fell prostrate before the Blessed Sacrament and begged the Lord to be good enough to give me to understand what I should do next.

Then I heard these words, “Go at once to Warsaw (Poland), you will enter a convent there”. I rose from prayer, came home, and took care of things that needed to be settled. As best I could, I confided to my sister what took place within my soul. I told her to say good-bye to our parents, and thus, in one dress, with no other belongings, I arrived in Warsaw

Apr302015

Presence

Apr282015

Futility blessings

‘Four Quartets’ clip
T.S. Eliot

Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate – but there is no competition –
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

Words from a Trappist monk–told to me, heard from a dying monk by a hosting monk when he was younger. The first monk the hosting brother witnessed pass away in community. The death cementing the finality of his cloistered life discernment. The abbey graveyard became a daily reality. The words shaped his spiritual life. ‘As my life draws to an end, I realize very few things were truly any of my business’. The hosting monk, elderly during our time together, wasting time gracefully, commented: ‘When I was young, I read voraciously, now I hardly read and what I do read rarely makes sense, nor can I stay focused. I am working with watercolors, however my efforts are abysmal. I have these images and colors in my mind, yet they do not come through. I once saw a snow covered pine tree through a window frame unintentionally placing a cross before the winter scene. It seemed something important presented itself. I wanted to convey it, yet I doubt my ambition will be accomplished. My efforts are childish’.

Apr262015

Christ the Shepherd

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,
beyond my fears, from death into life.

God is my shepherd, so nothing I shall want,
I rest in the meadows of faithfulness and love,
I walk by the quiet waters of peace.

Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,
beyond my fears, from death into life.

I recall in the friary reading the prophet Ezekiel for what seemed like endless days. There was something strange about the reading. Intent upon completing the book, words began to drag, sentence after sentence meaningless in interpretation. Holy Hours went by with nothing happening, my efforts seemingly futile. I persevered, moving forward with or without consolations. Then I came to chapter thirty-four. Lights turned on, everything became profound, self-consciousness disappeared, awareness emerged. The idea of God being the shepherd, the ultimate necessity of Jesus expanded. The words took on life, protecting and sheltering, bringing forth tears of relief.

Thus says the Lord GOD…shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but you do not feed the sheep. The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the crippled you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have ruled them. So they were scattered, because there was no shepherd; and they became food for all the wild beasts. My sheep were scattered, they wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill; my sheep were scattered over all the face of the earth, with none to search or seek for them. “Therefore, you shepherds, hear the word of the LORD: As I live, says the Lord GOD, because my sheep have become a prey, and my sheep have become food for all the wild beasts, since there was no shepherd; and because my shepherds have not searched for my sheep, but the shepherds have fed themselves, and have not fed my sheep; therefore, you shepherds, hear the word of the LORD: Thus says the Lord GOD, Behold, I am against the shepherds; and I will require my sheep at their hand, and put a stop to their feeding the sheep; no longer shall the shepherds feed themselves. I will rescue my sheep from their mouths, that they may not be food for them. “For thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock…I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down, says the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the crippled, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will watch over;…

Apr242015

A perception of Henry Suso

Henry Suso is a bundle of contradictions, and a person, moreover, who has gathered legends about him like a snowball rolling downhill. He was a poet, which is not always a key to happiness in this world; a mystic of the highest order; a hard working Dominican; and a man with a positive genius for getting into embarrassing situations… It will require many years of exhaustive research to sort out the diverse elements in his personality, if, indeed, it can ever be accomplished. Poets are not easy to analyze, and Henry, before all else, was a poet…Henry was born in Switzerland, in 1290, the son of a warlike family of counts and crusaders. His father said more than once that he wished Henry had been a girl and some of his spirited daughters had been boys; for Henry was not a type to carry a sword. Henry was a gentle, dreamy lad, who liked to accompany his mother on pilgrimages and read about heroic deeds. He had taken his mother’s name of Suso, perhaps out of sheer inability to live up to the warlike title of the Count von Berg…The best known work of Henry Suso is his Little Book of Eternal Wisdom, which is a classic of spiritual writing. He also composed many other short treatises on the mystical union of the soul with God, all written with the same poetic language and the same intensity of feeling. The man who had carved “the lovely name of Jesus” into the flesh over his heart was just as intense in his spiritual life. –Marie Jean. ‘St. Dominic’s Family’

I have the feeling Henry Suso would relish this not so flattering portrayal of his individuality.

Apr222015

Love

I am going to insistent upon exploring to the minutest detail the complications with my former spiritual partner. It all has to do with love. The further I go the more convinced I am correct in everything I do with her. She has been hard and demanding on me and now in return, through absolute love, I return the favor. The love she offered, indifference actually, she defines as Godly, a love away from the perverted love my mother offered. Her indifference is a love on the level God loves. God is pure love, above the emotional, selfish, sappy, crap I approach her with. I have no idea how to love, thus it was her spiritual responsibility to reshape my distorted opinions on love. Lacking emotion, getting absolutely nothing from me, in fact not even liking me as a person, at times stating she despised me, she was confident in her approach as a spiritual superior that she was capable of battering me with a higher love, pummeling me with harsh conditions, conversation, and ideas in order to reshape my understanding of a deeper love. She would scream how if I wanted to leave her there were others who would receive her graces. She views her interactions with others as an opportunity for those she chooses to encounter to receive blessings. Those fortunate to receive her attention are capable of garnering special favors from God. Where in scripture Matthew tells us that where two or three of us are gathered in His name, there He is, she discerns that due to her spiritual superiority she is the one bringing the graces to holy gatherings. Disrespecting me, screaming at me, intentionally hurting me when she sensed romantic feelings flowering within me, stating to me she was in love romantically with various other men, telling me she was dating, she did everything she could to rattle me. Hurting me allowed me opportunity for growth and graces. I had to accept and endure. She believed in me, while feeling absolutely nothing for me. My love for her only grew. This must read dramatic, insane even, yet it is truth, a lived reality. It must be understood the woman is remarkably intelligent, spiritually insightful, responsible in every regard, detail oriented in life, positive attributes flow from her. Miracles occurred in my life during my interaction with her. Her positive attributes, my love for her, and above all God’s blessings produced phenomenal results. However now that maturity has been firmly established within my life a new playing field is presented. New ways dictate further growth. Love needs further defining, and I am positive my concept of love is the correct one. I want her to know my love. Her concept of love is her spiritual downfall. The more I saw it, the more signs poured in that her accepting of a romantic love between us was fundamental to her spiritual growth, the deeper in love I fell. I am in love with her as I comprehend that love is healing for both of us. It is not a selfish endeavor. The love I offer is Godly in the sense it provides healing for both of us, while guiding toward a greater mutual unification in Christ. Three in one—through, with, and in as a couple we merge with Christ, the sacrament of marriage approached on the deepest level. I saw all this. I knew all of this. However she had to accept all of this. I will never cease in my love. Everything is too clearly laid out before me. Where she turns to self-will and self-defense in protecting herself from a deeper love, I open my heart, becoming vulnerable, becoming weak, allowing God to witness me offering my heart in faith, hope, and charity to another. Where she shuns emotion and passion, I point to the Song of Songs and observe God embrace these very powerful ideas. I know cloistered men and women, St Bernard of Clairvaux leading, adore the poem of passion play between lovers. Love is all about emotion and passion. Her sense of indifference and scoffing at emotion is not a higher love, but a lesser love of defense and manipulation. Self-will crushing Divine Will. All these truths are so apparent, yet if she rejects them what am I to do? Heartbroken, I move forward the best I can. Overwhelmed, sadness becomes a reality. To love on the highest level does not allow you to walk away as if nothing matters, turning to others, moving away as if nothing of consequence happened. Everything happened. The passion play God desires to enrapture our lives within has been extinguished before it could ever truly be started. Everything must mean something, for if it does not then where is the hope and love? If indifference and hardness rule at its best shallowness and superficiality are achieved. At its worst frustration, fear, hatred and other psychological dilemmas are created. Disorder builds upon disorder. Spiritual masters may become so immersed within such a powerful and overwhelming love for God that indifference becomes their predisposition toward all things worldly, however for those of us who are not spiritual masters I think indifference is a sign of brokenness. I am confident that throughout my life, I have not encountered a single lay person who is a spiritual master. Any lay person who offers indifference to their brothers and sisters under the guise of a higher love must be treated kindly, yet with great caution. Odds are astronomical that is a person who has wreaked havoc in the lives of others throughout his or her life.

Apr202015

An airplane flight and important words from Henry Suso

I discovered a new passion today. Flying is wonderful. At fifty, I have never flown. I found the experience exhilarating. Wonderful.

I want to preface this quote from Henry Suso’s ‘The Exemplar: The Life of the Servant’ with the comment it is important, words to consider deeply. Take them slow.

…Brother John, showed him in a vision the delightful beauty by which his soul had been transfigured. From him also the servant begged for the answer to a question. This was: Which of all the exercises was the one that caused a person the most hardship and was most useful? He received the answer that nothing was more painful and profitable for a person that for him, with an attitude of detachment, to go out from God with patience toward himself and thus leave God for the sake of God.

Let’s repeat that ending. …leave God for the sake of God.

For the sake of internal cleansing, a feat complex in proper doing, can I forget about God and focus upon myself. Avoiding selfishness and self-absorption, concentrating upon weaknesses, psychological frailties, personal shortcomings, character defects can I abandon self-righteous conduct and thoughts focused upon God and look sternly in the mirror? With the assistance of qualified others can I conduct painful insightful self-examination? Is a personal inventory more important than personal glorification in God?

Humbly and honestly, I feel gifted with a strong prayer life, yet I realize psychological conditions, worldly matters cannot be left behind during prayer. I cannot escape into God in order to ignore myself. It is not proper to pray devotedly while not growing as a man. My former spiritual partner stressed to me Aquinas thought that grace builds upon nature. I am going through an intensely emotional and troubling time with that former spiritual partner. As much as she has done for me, we are absolutely destroying each other right now. It was so difficult to go into prayer today. During the plane ride, I observed the marvel of seeing the skies for the first time from above. The sights filled me with awe and wonder, intensifying my love for God. I love flying. However through the splendor of high flying, while praying the Rosary, Divine Mercy, and holding silence, my head felt like it was going to split from the stress and pressure that overwhelms my life. Lack of sleep troubling horribly today. Necessary actions hurt. My eyes had trouble focusing, my whole sense of being is discombobulated, disjointed, and off kilter. I despise it, however it must be endured, passed through and properly dealt with. Aggressive, I seek solutions. I love on a deep and passionate level, taking the Song of Songs serious. I remember leaving the friary how intensely Father David Mary and myself fought. Like lions fighting over a fresh kill, we tore at each other. I am not saying it is right. It is human and the way we encountered. Neither of us being truly a bad guy. We were two men of God absolutely in collusion–I use that word specifically Collusion defined:a secret agreement, especially for fraudulent or treacherous purposes; conspiracy and Law. a secret understanding between two or more persons to gain something illegally, to defraud another of his or her rights, or to appear as adversaries though in agreement: example collusion of husband and wife to obtain a divorce. There is so much more to it than just circumstances with Father David Mary, myself and the former spiritual partner: Subconscious issues from individual lives. Mine: a life of severe alcoholism, parental issues, and intimate relationship issues. Father David Mary a volatile blue collar New York City upbringing. We must be so careful when interacting with each other in a deeply spiritual manner. I saw it in the friary so piercingly. We are vulnerable in a brutally damaging way when we open ourselves spiritually to one another. I am positive the majority of people trying to guide others do as much damage as good. Unfortunately, the damage usurps the good. True teachers are few and far between. That includes myself!!! Be careful, kind and tender with one another’s souls. This is no game. Can we leave God in order to allow others to move closer to God? I remember homily words from a priest: be careful when you are crowding around the tabernacle that your greatest achievement is not blocking others from the Eucharist.

Can I abandon evangelizing in order to grow interiorly? Can I forsake being a Bible scholar, a recognized knowledgeable man of scripture, in order to allow scripture to penetrate those things that block me from Christ? Can I detach from my religious reputation in order to strengthen humility and understand myself better? Do I cling to the idea of being a spiritual superior over reducing my pride in order to draw closer to God? Do I see myself as a provider of graces for others, rather than an honest sharing equal to my brother and sisters in Christ? Can I disown seeing myself as a spiritual director in order to cleanse my fleshly vessel? Can I quit the idea of giving others advice how to properly follow Christ in order to purify the temple of my body? Can I stay silent when others ramble about spiritual matters? Do I see myself as a teacher amongst others rather than servant of Christ? Do I judge and use God as a weapon to bolster myself? Can I remain hidden, focusing upon my devotion to Mary, relying upon Her assistance in approaching Her Son, rather than being a clanging gong? Do I allow Mary to dispense graces? Do I use religion to elevate my self-esteem? Can I quietly receive communion, absolutely absorbed within the presence entering my body, avoiding self-consciousness, thoughts of God and Holy matters? Can I sit before the Eucharist quiet and still.

…leave God for the sake of God.

Catholic Contemplative Life

A journey of recovery within Christ and His Church

Archives