Friday Adoration

Maturity on a grand scale tonight, an evening of piercing adoration. I returned to St Andrews Benedictine Abbey for a Friday evening weekly Eucharistic exposition. It is a must from here on out when my schedule allows. It appears I will be working first shift on Fridays so all glory goes to God. A brother invited me to the adoration when I toured the abbey as a part of the diocese’s superb concentration upon the consecrated life a month or so back. The experience was much more than anticipated. Adoration starts at seven with the entire community gathered. I missed the opening prayers, although I was summoned into the presence of the silent community, seating myself alone amongst the empty congregational chairs. I thought it would be a public service. I was alone seated. The intimacy of the moment humbled, making me feel small. Before taking my seat, I knelt before the Eucharist, head bowed, hands held forward in praise, the community and a handful of discerning younger men holding silence. A cough and unseen yet heard movement, moved me into my chair, Rosary beads wrapped around my hand, no Rosary was prayed, awed silence my offering. There is something pungently tangible amidst a religious community in silent prayer before the Eucharist–a presence to behold. St Andrew’s community is something special. The communal Holy Hour ended with an uplifting song of praise, Salve Regina sung as the religious men rose from the choir stalls standing together in harmony with words of wonder for Our Blessed Holy Mother—exactly as we ended our evening Holy Hour at the friary. Underneath everything was the awareness of a Benedictine community in North Dakota. After the community and their discerning guest dispersed, a single brother (possibly a Father) remained. I lingered, now praying a silent Rosary, sitting content with an unknown, barely visible, brother for the hour.

Driving to evening mass, I had time to kill so I decided to explore Dodd’s Camera downtown. I have been intending to buy a camera, and a recent email greatly stirred my interest. The store proved excellent in adventure. A saleswoman edified, while displaying various purchasing options, showing me the exact Nikon DSLR 3300 series my email offered. The staff at the store are friendly and fun, intelligent and approachable. As she educated me, a younger man walked by mentioning there is a pristine used one still in the box she should show me. I would leave with the camera, a 55-200 mm lens, and an amazing used bag all for just over four hundred dollars. I also left with a hunger for an amazing zoom lens, a Tamron B016, 16-300 mm. The speed of the focus while zooming in and out is stunning. It is a must, yet that lens alone cost over six hundred dollars. A tripod is also a must, although I felt Dodd’s were high in price, hovering around two hundred dollars. I am confident I can find an excellent quality tripod online in the hundred dollar range.

Photographic goals ground within the contemplative. I want my own images to become an expression of my interior life and my exploration of the world. My cellphone presents an image from St Andrew Abbey. I admire the presence of circles, perfection symbolized amidst the holy setting.

A minimalist Benedictine house of worship, choir stalls a plenty.

Aug012015

A day of with the Eucharist and St Peter Julian Eymard

Two quotes from St Peter Julian Eymard, and a third from his biography by Father Andre Guitton

“Live on the divine Eucharist, like the Hebrews did on the Manna. Your soul can be entirely dedicated to the divine Eucharist and very holy in the midst of your work and contacts with the world.”

“Keep your soul at peace, in order to be able to be attentive and very faithful to the inner movement of the Holy Spirit.”

“O Raphael, (Archangel) I can remember very clearly that afternoon when I ran out of this room, down the stairs, and out the front door. I ran into the church with all the energy of a five-year-old. It was empty. I did something so out of place. I climbed and sat on the table of the altar and I just leaned my head against the tabernacle. My sister, Marianne, asked me, “What are you doing there?” I quickly answered, ‘I am near Jesus and I’m listening to him.’ Marianne had a difficult time explaining this to our dear mother.”

God is good. The day retreat at St. Paschal Baylon and the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament proved edifying. Tomorrow morning is the second, calling forth a five AM start of the day. Three mysteries of the Rosary with quality devout fellowship. I am being absolutely blessed with spiritual exercises in abundance. I am mentally exhausted after ten hours of discussions, a Holy Hour, prayers, song, meals, and mass. St Eymard has etched his way into my consciousness. The priest of the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament are a special bunch of religious men. Conspicuous in his absence, Father Paul Bernier is out of town. Matters were easily made comfortable after attending the cook-out and encountering several people from St Paul’s Shrine.

The Eucharistic retreat was a hallowed time amongst a mature and adolescent crowd. The teens on retreat joined us for several events, including sharing lunch with us and mass. The organizer of the teen retreat had the teens break up and sit within the adult groups. Interspersed amongst the lectures, we would gather in smaller groups of eight to ten. In total, there were six smaller groups. The groups held steady throughout the day, allowing intimacy to develop. Two female teens joined our group. Enthused, the girls provided inspiration and intelligence. I am deeply touched when sharing faith with young people

No more. I read and retire, excited to wake early for excellent fellowship and resounding Rosaries before a favorite statue of Mary. I will take a photo for posting. I find the photo of St Peter Julian Eymard absolutely fascinating. The history of the photographic camera dates back to the 1840’s in regards to substantial technological advancements. I am not sure of the date of the photograph, although St. Eymard passed away in 1868. He would have been alive and active in France during the Lourdes apparitions occurring in 1858 and the papal defining, Pope Pius IX, of Mary as free from sin, the Immaculate Conception, in 1854.

St Peter Julian Eymard

Jul312015

Weekend of stellar saints begins

The weekend of stellar saints begins. The congregation of the Blessed Sacrament kicked things off with a novena dedicated to the life of St. Peter Julian Eymard, a communal Holy Hour of song and prayer. God dealt my fixation upon maturity a slight of hand, an interspersing of adolescence his call of command. A stage of development prior to maturity leading the Holy Hour. Teenagers partaking of a three day Eucharistic retreat directed the novena. As an individual, the youths, stood at a sanctuary podium, leading the novena, reading a lengthy prayer defining a significant occurrence in the life of the founding saint. My heart and prayer intentions envisioned sanctity for the courageous young ones growing up in such a secularly demanding world. There were roughly twelve of them, mostly girls, a few boys. Overall, the turnout was decent. I did no socializing, realizing I will be spending almost ten hours tomorrow at the adult day retreat. This will be the second time they fed me, and tomorrow will be breakfast and lunch. I purchased an offering, lots of delicious looking red raspberries. I saw several faces I recognized, shaking a couple of hands and smiling at others.

The lasting impression is the depth of the Eucharist magnified by the magnificence of creation. A photo of St Paschal Baylon is posted after this paragraph. Noticed the towering window walls. The tallest are the backdrop of the sanctuary. Realize the view. The passing vista of a bordering on stormy cumulus cloudy sky–a strong background of pristine blue decorated with enormous cottony white clouds, serving as the milieu for the adoring of the Eucharist. Beautiful. Majestic. There would be a lengthy moment of reflection, silence between the prayer and hymn. The mentally quieted concentration into the Eucharist, while absorbing the enormity of the window framed sky was imposing. The clouds were moving fast, grand perceptible movement apart of ruminations. The time between the nine meditations allowed a different panorama to take center stage. A dramatic display of clouds and sky were a part of adoration. The Eucharist posed before the splendor of the sky.

St Paschal Baylon Highland Heights, Ohio

I am porch sitting, watching night set in, welcoming my neighbors. There are four. I thought there were three. I do not know what to make of them. The house next door has problems, a Chinese owner. Dwelling in their attic is, count them, four, raccoons. I put the peanuts out I feed my squirrels to watch them. I knew they would come. As soon as the night set in, they came and ate, showing their numbers. They are definitely mischievous creatures of the night.

My sister has been calling lately, concerned, perplexed with my mother. I called my mother driving to visit with Dr. Nichta. She sold my father’s SUV, which means she has abandoned all plans of learning to drive. She wept tremendously regarding the decision to sell the vehicle. I became firm with her, scolding a bit. She cried harder, saying she was terribly depressed, not knowing what to do. My strong mother, the arrogant one of regress, the one willing to abide within delusion in order to maintain rationalizations–she admitted defeat. She surrendered over the phone. Graces from prayer and the Eucharist emerged, words pouring forth, strong and stern. I reprimanded my mother for negative ways. The suffering she endured the consequence of broken ways. God intended joy for her, not the wallowing state of self-pity she has become entrenched within. It is necessary for her to bottom out in order to purely start anew. I said everything clear and firm, dismissing her with the demand of attending daily mass, receiving the Eucharist every day, increasing a social life with a tremendous parish, structure and routine beginning her day. She whined about not being able to get there. I offered names. She offered excuses, willing to be a martyr rather than seek solutions. I hung up with a gentle good-bye, a salutation of blessings and love. I will spend next weekend with her. I preceded to call Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Temperance, Michigan. The secretary and I fell into a tremendous Holy Spirit inspired exchange. She is on the mission of finding someone to drive my mother. She connected me with Father’s voicemail. For a man who does not speak well words sprouted forth, clearly and distinctly detailing my desire for my mother to become a daily communicate. I ended with a plea: ‘Father please help me get my mother to daily mass, to receive the Eucharist every day’. Dr. Nichta offered insightful, caring advice, spoken words to be expressed. He is a Godsend.

Jul182015

Breathing eternal light into freedom

Every good person is free of committing mortal sins and has no willing attachment to them. Such freedom is necessary for salvation, but that is not what I am talking about here. The freedom I’m referring to is the ‘freedom of the children of God’ who know they are loved. And what is that (freedom)? It’s the detachment of a Christian heart from all things so that it is free to follow the known will of God. You will readily understand what I’m trying to say if God gives me the grace to explain to you the characteristics and effects of this freedom, and the occasions when it is practiced.

…this freedom is not attached to consolations, but accepts affliction with as much docility as nature can manage. I’m not saying that the person doesn’t like or long for these considerations, but just that her heart isn’t bound to them….a person who has this spirit is not emotionally bound to her spiritual exercises…Again I’m not saying that she doesn’t like them, but that she is not attached to them. Third, she hardly ever loses her joy, for no deprivation can sadden a person whose heart is attached to nothing. –St Francis de Sales

Exploring the profound letters of St Francis de Sales and St Janes de Chantal I came across these words of guidance from the former. They expand upon the idea of spiritual maturity, and the idea of freedom and enslavement—broadening the idea of freedom beyond free will. Freedom eternally magnified to salvation. Freedom is not just doing what pleases. I am free to do whatever I want. Because I want to do certain things, things others are doing, even being glorified, does not mean I should do certain things. It is not the desire, yet the act which enslaves. Instant pleasure and redemption in the eyes of the word is enslavement, a duplicity created. Individuality becoming a habit, a struggle to be someone in the eyes of the world. Such an existence in all truth is impossible for one to smash, roots becoming so deep ruination seems inevitable. How can one fighting for survival and identity truly surrender? How can one pursuing faith for years remove one’s self from stagnation, an inability to mature? An individual of duplicity identifies, fights with everything, compares and contrasts, demands others to be stacked up against one another, forces others to fight with others, Everything based upon salvation sought exteriorly through the eyes of others, The interior life, barely breathing, reposes in critical condition, acting upon the world in a destructive broken manner, needing to define and inflict restrictions upon others. Everything, even within the greatest efforts of kindness and compassion, is a form of division through the attachment to identity and the need for consolations appeasing individual delusions and brokenness. Maturity goes beyond confrontation through the inducing of unification, a fullness breathing into being, an expansion through passive surrendering of individuality, nurturing the graced power to conquer the mighty strength of passions, concupiscence, and brokenness, released from self-identity, attaining a state of grace within imperfection. Thus a mature seeker learns to sit still before the Eucharist, heart open and aware, needing yet detached.

The Eucharist: Lost within unification

Jul132015

Mother McAuley

In silence and quiet the devout soul becomes familiar with God.

Prayer is a plant the seed of which is sown in the heart of every Christian, but its growth entirely depends on the care we take to nourish it.

Two Venerable Mother Catherine McAuley quotes combined, the essence of a prayer life before the Eucharist.

Jun262015

Gaze of Jesus

A session with Dr. Nichta today. Going in, I felt there was nothing of consequence to discuss. After what seemed like a couple breathes and a flood of words, the fifty minutes concluded. The overall message established: I am being moved into a new realm of maturity. Afterwards sitting in front of the Eucharist at St Paschal Baylon, a woman, Shirley, approached me asking if I would repose the Eucharist at nine. The person signed up to come in at eight texted her, informing her they could not make it. I was honored, truly humbled and touched. Shirley showed me the routine, proper placement within the Tabernacle, providing keys, showing me around the sacristy, how to extinguish candles and turn off lights. Once, she left me alone with the Eucharist tears burst forth, my heart beating with joy, adoration, and a sense of wonder. I feel God is trying to tell me something, yet I am not quite sure regarding details. Sitting for the final hour, I pleaded, praying, begging for understanding. To be made aware how He wanted me to serve Him. Abstinence and sobriety I am proud to offer, yet there is so much more I feel I have to give. I was not sure about time since I did not bring my telephone into the church, however bells at the half hour made me confident there would be hourly bells. Sure enough, a wonderful sounding occurred, before nine distinct individual tones announced the arrival of 9:00 PM. Reposing, positioning myself behind the monstrance and altar, kneeling, looking up at the Eucharist, I just felt an overwhelming love to serve. It was a marvelous way to end a day.

Driving home, listening to Pope Francis expound upon Mercy, a prayer concept was presented: the gaze of Jesus, allowing Jesus to look upon us:

“I found three different manners of Jesus’ gaze upon Peter”.

The first is found at the beginning of the Gospel according to John, when Andrew goes to his brother Peter and says to him: “We have found the Messiah”. And “he brings him to Jesus”, who “fixes his gaze on him and says: ‘You are Simon, son of John. You shall be called Peter”. This is “the first gaze, the gaze of the mission” which will be explained “further ahead in Caesarea Philippi”. There, Jesus says: “‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church’: this will be your mission”.

…in the meantime, Peter has become an enthusiast of Jesus: he follows Jesus…Gospel of John, chapter 6, Jesus speaks of eating his body and so many disciples say at that moment: ‘This is hard, this word is difficult’”. Thus, “they begin to withdraw”. Jesus then “looks at the disciples and says: ‘Do you want to leave too?’”. And it is “Peter who responds: ‘No! Where would we go? You alone have the words of eternal life!’”. This is “the enthusiasm of Peter”. This is the first gaze: the vocation and the first declaration of the mission”. And, “how is Peter’s spirit under that first gaze? Enthusiastic”.

The second gaze we find late at night on Holy Thursday, when Peter wants to follow Jesus and approaches where He is, in the house of the priest, in prison, but he is recognized: “‘No, I don’t know him!’”. He denies Him “three times”. Then “he hears the cock crow and remembers: he denied the Lord. He lost everything. He lost his love”. Precisely “in that moment, Jesus is led to another room, across the courtyard, and fixes his gaze on Peter”. The Gospel of Luke recounts that “Peter cried bitterly”. Thus, “that enthusiasm to follow Jesus has become remorse, for he has sinned, he has denied Jesus”. However, “that gaze transforms Peter’s heart, more than before”. Thus “the first transformation is the change of name and of vocation. Instead “the second gaze is a gaze that changes the heart and is a change of conversion to love”.

“We don’t know what the gaze (third) was like in that encounter, alone, after the Resurrection. We know that Jesus encountered Peter, the Gospel says, but we don’t know what they said. The third gaze is the confirmation of the mission; but also the gaze in which Jesus asks for confirmation of Peter’s love. Indeed Jesus ask three times—three times. Peter denied Him three times; and now the Lord for the third time asks him to show his love. Each time when Peter says yes, that he loves Him, he loves Him, He gives him the mission: ‘Feed my lambs, tend my sheep’”. Moreover, at the third question — “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” — Peter “was grieved, nearly weeping”. He was sorry because “for the third time” the Lord “asked him, ‘Do you love me?’”. And he answered Him: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you”. And Jesus replied: “Feed my sheep”. This is “the third gaze: the gaze of the mission”.

Three gazes of Jesus upon Peter. The first is the gaze of the choice, with the enthusiasm to follow Jesus. The second is the gaze of remorse at the moment of that sin so great of having denied Jesus. The third gaze is the gaze of mission: ‘Feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep”. It doesn’t end there: ‘you did this for love and then? Will you receive a crown? No. I say to you, when you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go”

Rembrandt and the face of Jesus

Lesson on St Paschal Baylon from Catholic online:

Franciscan lay brother and mystic. Born to a peasant family at Torre Hermosa, in Aragon, Spain on Whitsunday, he was christened Pascua in honor of the feast. According to accounts of his early life, Paschal labored as a shepherd for his father, performed miracles, and was distinguished for his austerity. He also taught himself to read. Receiving a vision which told him to enter a nearby Franciscan community, he became a Franciscan lay brother of the Alcantrine reform in 1564, and spent most of his life as a humble doorkeeper. He practiced rigorous asceticism and displayed a deep love for the Blessed Sacrament, so much so that while on a mission to France, he defended the doctrine of the Real Presence against a Calvinist preacher and in the face of threats from other irate Calvinists. Paschal died at a friary in Villareal, and was canonized in 1690. In 1897 Pope Leo XIII declared him patron of all eucharistic confratemities and congresses.

Our Lady of the Pines retreat

Sometimes God is quick to the call. This morning amidst sunshine, my secret garden providing pleasure upon a walk, a call from Our Lady of Pines in Fremont, Ohio established a retreat for my off week following the celebration of a nation’s independence on July the 4^th. The conversation effused from surrounding ambiance, men thinning out neighboring trees–deconstructing a small forest, attention to individual trees fallen, a toddler following the example of his sister exploring spraying fountains of water wonder, dogs leashed and walking, children enjoying tennis lessons, and for me a religious sister edifying, informing me there was a week of spiritual direction scheduled for the week I inquired upon. I love when within conversation words pour forth. The task being the containing rather than the thinking. She tells she is going to set-up a special dormitory room for me. She promises I will love it. The week of spiritual direction has been planned for some time, all sisters conducting the directing. The week will be a focus upon individuals revealing God’s plans for them through silence, reflection, and counsel. There seems to be a concentration upon feminine spirituality, although the sister says not to fear, recognizing a difference between men and woman pursuing faith. We determined spiritual direction for me will be conducted upon exploration. The idea of me exploring a private retreat amongst the conductors of the spiritual directing week concretized. That week there is a priest conducting a private retreat. She is going to speak to him about spending time with me. Thy will be done. I am excited. Speculating, I anticipate a near dozen sisters with thirty-two retreatants. Walking at Cain Park, excitement blossomed. Hopefully sounding strange, an artist whose work I have been viewing online inspired a vision, a visualization, colorful flowers bursting forth in a river from my heart was the expression of joy I felt upon a week of spiritual concentration. The writing, ‘Man Tower’, picked up this morning. Possibly, properly, alignment allowing, serious work can be conducted during my week at Our Lady of the Pines. Some images I provide, allowing imaginative touching upon the story, black and whites from Ingmar Bergman’s ‘The Seventh Seal’, a cherished movie in my realm of influences. The photos of the traveling carnival family paying tribute to a vacationing Romanian family very dear and close to my heart.

The wonderful circus family, inspiration to Gabriel, Calin, and Lavinia. Acrobat Jof, holding his son, is a dreamer, a lover of life, a circus performer, a writer of songs and poems, a tumbler extraordinaire, a man who is so in love with the idea of visions he is continually making them up. The only problem is when he finally does have a vision of Our Holy Mother, his wife only laughs, loving him even more for all the visions he details. Acrobat Jof is not dismayed, only desiring to sing an unfinished song and enjoy his son. The world-weary squire, Jons, demonstrating his humor and penetrating insight, comments upon one who turned out to be a corpse. Antonius Block, the Templar Knight, chess combatant to the grim reaper, sent his quick-witted squire to question a man seated upon the beach. Encountering the seated one, the squire confronted a skeleton.
A wonderful medieval song and dance performance by Acrobat Jof and his wife Mia is interrupted in this video clip by a doomsday procession singing Dies Irea (coincidentally enough a poem credited to Thomas of Celano). In the opening of ‘Man Tower’, the procession following the debauchery of the child bishop being marched through the streets of Assisi, an actual medieval tradition of drunken excess the church would eventually ban, is based upon the procession in Bergman’s film. I wish there were subtitles for the fire and brimstone sermon–the fiery words point to the Black Plague as a curse from God for the wicked ways of man. Repent NOW the message. I am intrigued by Bergman’s cinematic effect of having the end times spiritual marauders vanishing from the earth, their chanting continuing.