Monthly Archives: November 2015

Power

In the mass, too, God makes Himself a passive thing, to be held and moved and broken by the fingers of the priest.  And you see that powerlessness…But to every human being God gives a similar terrifying power over Himself: the power to reject Him…Power is a commonplace—and, to some, an attractive—thing; yet how terrifying also, when we reflect upon it.  A man has power over himself, over other men, over other creatures, and over God Himself: he has power, in small ways or in great, to change history; he has power to save or ruin souls.

Father Vann utilizes the Pieta as an example of God making Himself powerless.  I recall reading years ago about the scaling of the Michelangelo statue.  Mary is mammoth in size, towering over her Divine Son.  Christ, the Saviour, is reduced in size, seemingly powerless as a corpse.  The scaling is abnormal.  Mary is too large for Jesus.  Realistically, dimensions do not make sense.  Mary, the human, is too large.  Jesus, the Divine, is too small.  Carefully examine the statue.  The human mother, the contemplative model par excellence, the Queen of Heaven, the Seat of Wisdom, possesses the largeness of particulars, the power to define eternity.  Her size represents the powerlessness of God in the hands of humans.   Mary is granted power.  She determines, to express compassion, absorb herself in love, an absolute focus upon her Divine Son.  She is the example of a human life fully lived in surrender and obedience, turning the power God allows into a reflection back upon the majesty and might of God.  Love is returned to love.  The circle is complete.  We humans reign over fate.  Our own and others.  God lays Himself low for us.  Through sheer love, God graces us with power.

It is easy to use power over others irresponsible: for the pleasure or prestige or self-aggrandizement…It is easy to use it selfishly: turning people into a means instead of ends, means to our own profit, our own good, instead of setting out ourselves to achieve theirs.  There may be a temptation to use it cruelly, for the dark pleasure that cruelty itself gives; or with that particular sort of inhumanity which puts more store on patterns than on persons, on the neatness and efficiency of a scheme instead of on the uniqueness of every individual soul.  Power, in this sense of authority, petty tyrannies, officiousness (unwanted aggressive counsel), or righteous impersonality; and it corrupts for the same reason: it is divorced from love.
…….

Yet the power is given to us; we cannot be rid of it.  Authority has to be exercised; personal gifts have to be used.  How can we attempt to make sure that our use of power will not, in fact, be an abuse?  Only by making ourselves powerless before God, as the dead body of Christ was powerless only by becoming “stripped and poor and naked” within our own souls, so that the Spirit can invest us with His divine power and transform our impulses and cure our pride.  –Father Gerald Vann ‘Mary’s Answer for Our Troubled Times”

Michelangelo's_Pieta_5450_cropncleaned_edit

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Distraction

Extraordinaire perception leads to delusion,
Distortion on into dimension, a disconnect,
It is a sad reality to see too much, impressionistic,
Foraying through the details, lost in the shuffle,
Day in and day out expecting too much, forces of nature,
Clouds hovering, shadows beneath, sun rising and setting, moon reflecting,
Impediment immodest, perceiving in order to achieve,
To be someone, an identity, a task to succeed,
It hurts to accept the simple, impossible deed,
I hurt and I need,
The unromantic uncongested by imagination,
Not roaming the hills, valleys, plateaus, and peaks,
Of one’s mind, cleverness upon millenniums,
Requiem lost in the wind, unheard, shouted down by cluttered noise,
Years, so many dark and descriptive, defining by post-industrial man,
It’s hard to be upon the shoulders of giants, pop culture screams a killing joke,
Immediate past formation, a Bowie knife stabbed by a beetle riding a rolling stone listening to Dylan,
Brutal within the violence while serving iron and wine, relating forsaken thought and vision,
Identifying the worst of one’s self in others, amorous projection, classics emitting,
Lassitude too feel so much, unique in rationalization, moments of clarity, the harm done in glory,
Unknown complications and the subconscious, individual stories and sad eyes staring,
On the eve too long behind the blinds, through time it’s harder to be one’s self, blocking the obvious,
Tattoos, piercings, the grotesque, the extreme, pointing outward, inward smattered by vomit, revelation soiled,
Beauty reposed, beauty is dead, manifestation marauding inhuman, all are effected, all unwelcomed,
Easy to recline into morbid majesty and mistakes, wanting too much, seeing only the urban, missing the rural refrain,
Magnificence professed through excess, cultural decline, a dumbing down into damnation,
Too much, too much, too much, innocence lost in the blink of an eye, eternity never missing a beat.

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Reflection and remorse

There was something more to Mr Nagle’s Thomas Merton performance last night, a message from God I decipher. The St Ignatius group celebrating an annual awards ceremony was a national recovery based institution, focusing upon homelessness, removing individuals from the streets by assisting them with substance abuse through the AA twelve step program and spiritual retreats. A man and a woman told their stories of recovery, focusing upon finding God. I was moved by their stories. This is the second time in less than two weeks that I have become scattered, a nervous wreck. Friday meeting with Dr Nichta, he said, ‘Jim, you realize you are talking a mile a minute, and you are all over the place? I cannot keep up with you’. I scheduled an appointment for next Friday. I will continue to see him. Ann, I owe you an apology. I focused on you. Work has me stressed out, and I turned my anxiety upon you. I want your voice back in my life, assist me through my probationary, discernment period, at work please. The Hospice starts this week, and I am going to look into at least one AA meeting a week. My session with Dr Nicola demonstrated I need people to unload upon, my social world needs expanded, an outlet focused upon recovery and releasing. There is not a chance in Hell, I will drink, yet last night and recent experience clearly shows there is more to recovery than not drinking. Please except my apology, consider my plea. I would appreciate your voice to return as an influence. Consider matters deeply as you always do. I am off at eleven.

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Pre-work reflection

Getting ready for work, a beautiful day. Jim Nagle’s performance last night was incredible. He truly possesses a calling. Working within his vocation, he elicits meaning, presenting a glimpse into the love of God alive and awake. Absolutely breathtaking to witness his Thomas Merton one-man play. I met a remarkable woman, Sister Juanita Shealy from the Congregation of St Joseph on Rocky River Road, across from the Poor Clares. I was sitting alone, drinking coffee, when she waved me over insisting she wanted to know me. Thus ensued an incredible conversation of depth, including a request from her to pray for her sister who just underwent the removal of a brain tumor. Her sincerity in declaring I made her evening, feeling blessed she met me, humbled and made me feel properly special. Yesterday was also blessed as a day off, beautiful weather, raking leaves, enjoying the company of a gentleman conducting some remodeling work for Carter. I was interrupted from this posting, by a telephone call from Jim. He insists we must make plans to visit Sister Juanita together. I could only laugh since I just wrote about her. He is truly authentic, a holy and caring man. I returned home to check on the remodeling work, to eat dinner before work, enjoying prayer before the Eucharist. I do have a confession for my blog. I have been unsettled regarding someone, the long poem indicative. It is easier for me to fight her, than to forgive. To allow even a glimpse of care hurts intensely deep. There is so much care there it overwhelms. She means so much, yet she is so tough and truly distant. There is nothing I can do, except demonstrate to her I am strong, trusting in God. I think the poem said it well. I feel unrest within her soul, wanting so much to comfort and console. I must let go, allowing freedom. Plus, I am wrong so much in my feelings I do not trust them. I will not allow an overwhelming sense of compassion and admiration, a sense of calling and destiny, to rule my life, yet that is only words. I can only try my best. No resolutions. I try my best, comprehending how often I fail. I am far from perfect. I will try. Lord enlighten the darkness of my heart, give to me true faith, certain hope, and perfect charity, so that I may carry out Thy holy and true commandments. Amen

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All Ways Inspiration

Beautiful, you sit before the Eucharist,
Open heart, presenting your wounds,
Be not unwise, you are more than a worm,
Nothingness is better than laying one low,
Your faith and your hope and your love,
It is there,
Hearing the silence, creating the silence,
Presenting within austere being,
A shimmering gown of virginal white,
A hood of black hair, Lebanese in distinguished birth,
Stained interiorly, longing not to be touched, tired of the pretense,
Alone, enough is enough,
Feigning away every motion, astute in repose, detecting, dissecting,
Hiding behind strength, hiding behind might, powerful knowing,
Insight and discernment isolated weapons,
You do it so well, so much to provide, time marches on,
Sheltering, shielding, shrewdly,
Reading slow and steady,
I touch your silence,
I embrace your silence,
I touch your emptiness,
I embrace your emptiness,
I touch your fullness,
I embrace your fullness,
I touch your pain,
I embrace your pain,
I touch your rejection,
I embrace your rejection,
I touch your hardness,
I embrace your hardness,
I touch your strength,
I offer you weakness,
I touch your weakness,
I offer you strength,
I feel not your heart,
Knowing only walls,
Breathing, inhalation and exhalation,
Slow dancing,
Viscous and smooth,
Understanding it was not always that way,
Inside there is a place where once was a child,
Inside there is a place where a little girl dreamed,
Inside there is a place where Myron once lived,
Inside there is a place where God alone reigns,
Inside there is a place longing to be lived,
Inside there is a place desiring to be shared,
Inside there is a place that confidence devours,
Inside there is a place that strength knows it should surrender,
Inside there is a place emanating insomnia,
I am not allowed to touch that place,
Restricted, no permission to enter,
I could never touch you, no one will,
No one should fantasize such immense brutality,
The harsh vicious reality of the purity that is,
That was and will always be,
Heaven sent and heaven bound,
Unafraid within loneliness,
I leave alone your mysteries,
I embrace your humanity,
I leave alone knowing you,
I embrace my humanity,
I leave alone your complexities,
I embrace God,
I leave alone your defenses,
I embrace my courage,
I leave alone your secrets,
I embrace your wisdom,
I offer my faith, simple, devoid of too much,
I offer my hope, stripped of fear, lacking demand,
I offer my love, naked of will, uncovered, without dependency,
Disregarding conditions, I will never go away, God wants it that way,
Willing to be hurt, vulnerable, unaccepting rejection, allowing your will,
Permitting, graced by your mission, wounded by your wounds,
I offer a shared love of Mary,
A love for the path of perfection,
A love for the pursuit, trials, failures and victories,
A love for the mercy of salvation,
A love for the life of Jesus,
A love for the crucifixion, the witnessing of Mary, the fellowship of the beloved disciple,
A love for the mission, suffering, and death of a Divine Son and His followers,
A love for the resurrected Christ,
A love for the Universal Church,
A love for daily mass,
A love for the Eucharist,
A love for birth, life, and death,
A love for the immensity, omnipotence, omnipresence of the majestic Father,
A love for light shining within darkness,
God alone shared,
Within a community of believers and nonbelievers,
Identifying a desire for prayer, to move inward, on into stillness,
To know, to traverse, to travel together, without touching hands,
In ugliness, without shame, to be and to have,
Another together, hearts beating as one,
Natural conditions, worldly lives,
Within congestive heart failure,
Wait, patience, listen,
Death knocks upon the door,
Feel your heartbeat, know yourself,
Know the sound of your heart, feel its power, know yourself,
Comprehending, understanding, sympathetic, alone with God,
Trusting in a new way the awareness,
No other worldly sound possesses such majesty,
Your heartbeat hurts,
For me alone, it is a miracle, precious to be cherished above all worldly things,
As Myron’s heart never stops beating for you,
Your’s will never stop beating for me,
It is authentic, genuine, and true,
For me alone, your heartbeats in wonder, alive within God’s love,
A fantasy while alone with God, within a pursuit of perfection,
Being alive amidst creation, all is good, unlocked within the thought of you,
Permit, allow, open, grant permission to a return in kindness.
I desire to be a pleasant, comforting thought for you,
Simple and true, let yourself be, let me be, let everything be,
Alone together with God.

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True Pity

Let us return to Father Vann’s refined contrasting of the sorrow of Mary compared to the women of Jerusalem. Mary’s sorrow is nurturing and strengthening: true pity. The good women of Jerusalem, followers of Jesus, become overwhelmed with emotional self-pity. Lacking definitude, without detailed understanding, Mary’s sorrow comprehends the totality of sacrificing her Son, embracing His crucifixion in silence though it pierces her heart.  Always obedient, Mary questions not the mysteries of God. Her trust in God supersedes her own experiences, emotions, feelings, desires, intellect, and being.  Silence, love, and a sorrowful heart she offers her Son in order to embolden and strengthen Him so He can remain loyal and obedient to the will of His Father.

If Mary’s heart had been filled with the soft sentimental pity, she would not have helped, but would have hindered. Human love helps when it is within the framework of vocation, when it expresses the will of God. A mother’s vocation is fulfilled when she offers her son to God (Hannah), to life, and to his own destiny; it is ruined when she clings to him for her own sake on the plea of saving him from hurt. “Go forth and see the king in the diadem wherewith his mother crowned him.” And this is the crowning (crucifix): her offering of her Son to the Father, her strengthening of her Son for the kingship of the cross.

For the very offering is itself a help to Him, comforting and gladdening Him. For her, the meeting (Jesus carrying the cross) can be only agony: and John and Mary Magdalen must have tried to restrain her, while she insisted, “I must be with my Son; He will have need of me.” And so she shows us a second thing: we are not merely to avoid confusing true pity with sentimental pity; we are to keep clear the distinction between true pity and self-pity. We, for our part, are not often asked to shoulder very heavy crosses perhaps, but the small ones come our way, and they fill us with self-pity; they make us yearn for and expect and perhaps demand sympathy until, in the end, we make others miserable in their turn. It is then that we should think of this scene, compare are noisy lamentations with Mary’s silence, our emotional wallowings with Mary’s strength, our wasted opportunity with the glory of the crucifixion. –Father Gerald Vann ‘Mary’s Answer for Our Troubled Times’

MY MOTHER.SOR.COLOR

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Preparing for a Dr Nichta visit

This past week has been defining, allowing clarity within confusion. I go into my last day of work before a day off with the conviction I know nothing, pleading to the Lord for peace. I look forward to Jim Nagle’s performance of his Thomas Merton one-man-show Saturday. He sent me a flyer in the mail. The hosting institution is the Ignatian Spirituality Project, actually the play is an adjunct to an award’s ceremony. I will not allow work to overwhelm. The play is my focus. I have concluded that this ninety day probationary period at work, a time of discernment, is for both my employer and myself. This week has been really out of sorts. I remained calm throughout the end of the week, accepting all that came my way, observing maturely, feeling there is a place for me within the quality company, understanding it is my determination that settles matters. It has been crazy, and I perceive that is how weeks will be. I pray, remaining within the spirit of recovery. Trusting in the Lord, trusting in myself. It is truly the living of life that needs to be learned. That goes even beyond my faith. I have no doubt I could and would prosper at Assumption Abbey. I know how to worship, centering myself within a recondite prayer life, content with stepping away from the world, content with a simple life within a monastic community cultivating love. What I am not sure about, doubting capabilities and worthiness is life in the world. How to live life remains a mystery. The alcohol abuse is defeated. I recently said that to Clarence, a quality friend and he responded with the standard AA answer, just for today, cautioning against perceived arrogance in my words. I could only register that I had moved beyond his world view, and not just based upon that statement. Avoiding criticism–nothing negative, embracing fellowship, admiring an authentic friend, it was obvious spiritually he has little to offer. I read Ann’s Facebook page this morning, unable to sleep. I do not do the Facebook thing at all. I find it disconcerting the absorption into identity, a personality built upon perception and reception. It is all too exterior and shallow, a trying to be instead of a being, a settling through rationalization and presentation rather than growing, existing and manipulating rather than maturing. It is why this blog is anonymous. I do not tell others of its existence. This blog is for me. The Lord selects the few who observe. Regarding Facebook, even Ann: someone’s spiritual insight I admire, I will not frequent, nor really care to consider the thoughts she shares on Facebook. This settles nicely into a rumination. I know her thoughts, and her strengths, putting forth that no one will understand her spiritually like I do, able to understand and utilize her strength, also within that knowing I comprehend her weaknesses, while all the time understanding the mystery of her being, the complexity of her past, her inability to mature within relationships. The fact that only love, proper in dimension and scope, allows insight into the realm of another. Without love, we only see interpretations and lacking, inabilities and failings, wounds and scars occupying attention, not the truth of being, which is the potentiality of existing within the magnificence of God.  Dependent upon ourselves, we see only what we can or need.  The reason I brought all of this together was a Facebook posting she presented: Nobody knows your heart, your circumstances, your past, your relationships,  your struggles, your pain, your hopes, your dreams, your purpose, your flaws, your reason and your future like God. Always seek Him first. There’s no better advice or guidance you can get than from the Lord. Yet the Lord is a reality to be shared through love, truth in knowing producing the ability to share. Love enkindles love. Experiencing love provides insight into others.  Few individuals will blossom spiritually into human flowers of love. St Francis of Assisi comes to mind as an ultimate fulfillment. It is the lot of many not to live a life of love. Ann does not know how to share love. She can play the superior, seeking out weakness and inferiority in order to nurture, yet still that is manipulation, the working of self, rather than a reposing into the love of God. It is perfect for caring for the sick and dying, yet futile in adult one-on-one relationships. It will never establish a mature spiritual permanency, eventually causing strife, stagnation, and frustration. It is too aggressive, not passive enough to comprehend the love of God. We all know Corinthians chapter thirteen. To play the martyr, to remain aloof, isolated and alone, protecting one’s self through God, only able to love weakness, escaping into God, does not supplant the living of a deeper love. Seeking guidance from the Lord? I say that is a tough road to master, few able to conduct, only the pure in heart knowing love, able to withstand the frustration and lack of knowing, will be able to properly discern. Open and vulnerable, willing to be hurt, healing through pain, loving others as brother and sister—superior to none; overall the embracing of life, accepting the non-mastering, allows discernment. Forget reading signs, supernatural voices, a perceived skill in discernment, any other way that calls forth personal interpretation.  The Lord rarely answers individuals directly.  God is not a mystery waiting to be unraveled, rather He is a mystery that will always remain a mystery here upon the earth.  Spiritual advancement is the profound acceptance of this subtle truth.  It marked me when Father Thomas Keating identified the fact that Jesus was asked a hundred and eighty three questions, and within all the inquiring he answered only three directly. The Lord does not tell us what to do. The Lord does not tell us what is best for others. His greatest answer is mystery; acceptance of enigma. His greatest commandment is to know love. I have become convinced we can go various and numerous ways, a set path not placed before us, while the determining factor remains our ability to live the greatest commandment, to bring into fruition the Beatitudes; to flourish within faith, hope, and charity.  Some will accomplish the matter within worldly success and others will be crushed and broken in the gutter in their knowing.  Ironically, only hinting at relevancy, Bob Dylan lyrics come forth: Success is failure, and failure is no success at all.  The guidance I receive from the Lord is too keep on keeping on. No answers will be forthcoming. Deal with it. You are starting to know love, to live a life of love, and that is a painful difficult cross to bear, the ultimate cross for like His Holy Mother you will only be rewarded here upon this earth with a pierced heart, sorrow dominating your disposition, yet underneath and supporting that sorrow will be the immensity of true joy. It is enough. Now I just need to figure out this living thing, exact details abandoning me to the scratching of my skull in wonderment, and all too often fear. The Hospice finally does have everything in order. I will begin receiving assignments, conducting my first bedside vigil Saturday.

Vibrant steady rain
Magnificence descends refined
Unmindful I watch

The sound of a drum
Dampened by the multitude
Sound vibrates on things

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