Archives

Feb222015

‘…lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…’

116559854_1d9NRwvkpM

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. And he fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterward he was hungry. –Matthew

The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. –Mark

And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit for forty days in the wilderness, tempted by the devil. And he ate nothing in those days; and when they were ended, he was hungry. –Luke

temptation_of_christ

 

Pelican: The Pelican is a symbol of the atonement and the Redeemer and is often found in Christian murals, frescos, paintings and stained glass. The pelican was believed to wound itself in order to feed its young with its own blood. In the hymn “Adoro Te,” St. Thomas Aquinas addresses the Savior with, “Pelican of Mercy, cleanse me in Thy Precious Blood.” Allusion is even made to this belief in “Hamlet” (act iv): “To his good friend thus wide I’ll ope my arms And, like the kind, life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood.”

pelicano

spacer
Feb082015

Maintaining Fortitude

I have been reflecting upon a statement Myron, a respected spiritual director repeated that one could not retreat, nor cease upon the spiritual path.  Once an individual progresses there is no going back, nor is there a point of termination.  One cannot rest upon one’s laurels.  One never reaches an end.  God always demands more, acutely desiring growth, challenging for continual progress in humility and trust (faith), prayer (hope), and charity; a persistent revealing of the utility of the gifts of the Holy Spirit in our contemplative and active lives.  I cannot embark upon the contemplative life with a passion; experiencing sweet consolations, enjoying the blessing of graces for myself and those I love, comprehending a presence within prayer efforts possessing poignant profoundness—only to falter when matters become challenging, or personal situations become demanding.  Boredom, sloth, can be crippling quandaries.  Not only do I become still in my knowing, I learn to remain still, trusting God under all conditions.

My spiritual life must become the foundation of my life.  All other activities and experiences nurturing, pointing back, allowing quietness during properly dedicated times of prayer and devotion.  Well rounded socially—not a spiritual glutton, physically active and participating in the world with secular and religious brothers and sisters, absolutely loving life and creation, I place the Creator above and in proper perspective, while active as an ordinary simple man in the world.  I love my Tuesday and Fridays, days every week I play basketball.  The competition and exercise emboldens my spiritual life, even if I have a terrible day on the court.  Contemplatively, efflorescence occurs when a naturally arising, authentic, love for life and creation pours forth.  I found it impressive that St Jane de Chantal, suffering immense spiritual darkness, conducted herself with no bleakness.  She comprehended the vitality of displaying faith, hope, and charity.

I cannot experience God’s approval for furthering contemplative devotion, then respond with a decision to scale back my efforts.  The softer easier road cannot be embarked upon once the narrower road has been presented.  A calling recognized, I must embrace, trusting in God, focused upon revealing further His desires.  There is a former priest I socially encounter that always leaves me disturbed.  During a Christmas gathering this past holiday season, I encountered the gentleman.  Assuming center stage, he led Christmas carols during the large dinner party.  Articulate, highly educated, adept in foreign languages, knowledgeable in worldly affairs, ardently putting forth liberal ideals, he talked unceasingly.  It never ceases to amaze me how awkwardly false the man appears.  Comically, his clothes always seem too big for him, never quite fitting properly.  His behavior comes off contrived and premediated, overly thought out and self-conscious.  His words are too loud, and his tendency to leer at women make him socially graceless.  I know the man’s story for he shared it with me during a private dinner.  His childhood was marked by an early declaration he would become a priest.  A recognized child genius, an extremely high IQ, he graduated from high school in his early teens, immediately entering the seminary.  I am not sure of his tenure as a priest, yet I do know he left the priesthood after discerning marriage as his proper vocation.  The man is now divorced, a recovering alcoholic, and tragically recently endured the suicide of an adult son.  The whole matter leaves me perplexed, a lasting dark feeling–even now I pause to offer prayers for his peace of mind.  Avoiding judgment or affirmations, I just cannot make sense of matters when this man is near.  Everything seems completely out of order, self-will seemingly making an absolute disaster out of life, chaos all too apparent.

He who trusts himself is lost. He who trusts God can do all things. —St Alphonsus Ligouri

With those who are perfect and walk with simplicity, there is nothing small and contemptible, if it be a thing that pleases God; for the pleasure of God is the object at which alone they aim, and which is the reason, the measure, and the reward of all their occupations, actions, and plans; and so, in whatever they find this, it is for them a great and important thing.  — Saint Alphonsus Rodriguez

spacer
Jan312015

Sweet and sour consolations

Sensible devotion and particularly spiritual sweetness are very precious graces. They inspire us with horror and disgust for the pleasures of the world which constitute the attraction of vice. They give us the will and power to walk, to run, to fly along the ways to prayer and virtue. Sadness contracts the heart, while joy dilates it. This dilation helps us powerfully to mortify our senses, to repress our passions, to renounce our own wills and to endure trials with patience. It urges us to greater generosity and more lofty aspirations. The abundance of divine sweetness makes mortification a delight and obedience a pleasure. We rise promptly at the first sound of the bell. We miss no opportunity for practicing virtue. All our actions are done in peace and tranquility…. Saint Francis de Sales, sweet consolations, ” excite the appetite of the soul, comfort the mind, give to the promptitude of devotion a holy joy and cheerfulness which render our actions beautiful and agreeable”….

With regard to aridities, observe, first of all, with St. Alphonsus, that they can be either voluntary or involuntary. They are voluntary in their cause when we allow our minds to become dissipated, our affections to attach themselves to created things, our wills to follow their caprices and consequence we commit a multitude of little faults without making an effort to correct them. It is no longer a case of simple dryness of sensibility, it is languor of the will. “This state is such,” says Saint Alphonsus, “That unless the soul does violence to herself in order to escape from it, she will go from bad to worse. God Grant she does not fall after a time into the greatest of misfortunes! This kind of aridity resembles consumption, which never kills at once, but infallibly leads to death”. We must do all that depends on us to get rid of it. If it persist in spite of our efforts, let us accept it resignedly as a merciful chastisement of our faults. Involuntary dryness is that experienced by one who is endeavoring to walk in the ways of perfection, who guards against all deliberate sin, practices prayer” and faithfully discharges every duty….

Spiritual aridities and sensible desolations constitute an excellent purgatory where we can pay our debts to divine justice on easy terms. Still more truly can they be described as the crucible designed for the purification of souls. From an abundance of heavenly favors, the soul derives the courage to detach her affections from earthly objects and attach them securely to God.

–Abbot Vital Lehodey

spacer