Contemplation

A vocation

Speaking of marriage, Jesus refers us to yet another page of Genesis, which, in its second chapter, paints a splendid and detailed portrait of the couple. First, we see the man, who anxiously seeks “a helper fit for him” capable of alleviating the solitude which he feels amid the animals and the world around him. The original Hebrew suggests a direct en￾counter, face to face, eye to eye, in a kind of silent dialogue, for where love is concerned, silence is always more eloquent than words. It is an encounter with a face, a “thou”, who reflects God’s own love and is man’s “best possession, a helper fit for him and a pillar of support”, in the words of the biblical sage (Sir 36:24). Or again, as the woman of the Song of Solomon will sing in a magnificent profession of love and mutual self-bestowal: “My beloved is mine and his… I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine”. –-Pope Francis Amoris Laetitia

Pope Francis Holds Weekly Audience

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Wounded

Why, since you wounded
this heart, don’t you heal it?
and why, since you stole it from me,
do you leave it so,
and fail to carry off
what you have stolen

St John of the Cross

A hunter stalks through a forest. Suddenly he spots a deer, takes aim, releases the arrow. The animal falls, then rises again, struggling to live, but however hard it tries, “the stag dies”. That’s how the soul feels at this stage. It is shot through by love’s stinging arrow, but there is no remedy to assuage her pain. Whatever she tries to do only succeeds in deepening the wound. There is no cure for her other then to find her life in blind faith to God. Since God is the cause of her pain, only God can heal it.  –Susan Muto

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Breathing Under Water

I built my house by the sea.
Not on the sands, mind you;
not on the shifting sand.
And I built it of rock.

A strong house
by a strong sea.
And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.
Good neighbors.
Not that we spoke much.
We met in silences.
Respectful, keeping our distance,
but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.
Always, the fence of sand our barrier,
always, the sand between.

And then one day,
-and I still don’t know how it happened –
the sea came.
Without warning.

Without welcome, even
Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand like wine,
less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.
Slow, but coming.
Slow, but flowing like an open wound.
And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.
And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.
And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.
That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbors,
Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbors,
And you give your house for a coral castle,
And you learn to breathe underwater.

Sister Carol Bieleck

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Stages

The soul contemplates the goodness of God in the mirror of material creatures, and rises to Him by recalling the parables which Jesus preached to beginners; 2) The soul contemplates the divine goodness in the mirror of intelligible truths, or the mysteries of salvation, and rises to Him by a spiral movement, from the Nativity of Christ to His Ascension; 3) The soul contemplates sovereign Goodness in itself, in the darkness of faith, circling round again and again, to return always to the same infinite truth, to understand it better and more fully to live by it. –Father Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange

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The Nightingale

AWWP-4

By Gerald Griffin

As the mute nightingale in closest groves
Lies hid at noon, but when days piercing eye
Is locked in night, with full heart beating high
Pours her plain song, over the light she loves;
So, Virgin Ever-pure and Ever-blest,
Moon of religion, from whose radiant face
Reflected streams the light of heavenly grace
On broken hearts, by contrite thoughts oppressed;
So, Mary, they who justly feel the weight
Of Heavens offended Majesty, implore
Thy reconciling aid with suppliant knee;
Of sinful man, O sinless Advocate,
To thee they turn, nor Him they less adore;
‘Tis still His light they love, lest dreadful seen in thee.

Here is a trailer for a powerful Serbian movie ‘Enclave’ witnessed at the Cleveland International Film Festival.  The young angry shepherding Albanian boy brought me to tears with a heroic act on a truly grand scale.  A softly moving film defining individual struggle for meaning within an overall malaise of despair.  Beautiful and absolutely human.

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Furthering fellowship reflections

FOREMOST among the soul’s affections is love. Love is the ruler of every motion of the heart; drawing all to itself, and making us like to that we love. Beware, then, my daughter, of harbouring any evil affection, or you too will become evil. And friendship is the most dangerous of all affections, because any other love may exist without much mental communication, but as friendship is founded thereon, it is hardly possible to be closely bound by its ties to any one without sharing in his qualities.

All love is not friendship, for one may love without any return, and friendship implies mutual love. Further, those who are bound by such affection must be conscious that it is reciprocal,— otherwise there may be love but not friendship; and moreover, there must be something communicated between the friends as a solid foundation of friendship. –The Saint Francis de Sales Collection.

simplicity-desales

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All over the place on a Sunday

Fellowship at St Paul Shrine, coffee and donuts after Mass. Building on top of Saturday’s family gathering at Saint Clare. I am comfortable in my own skin, confident yet humble, not needing to be anyone, rejecting the need to be, the need to be right and received as superior in faith,  yet pleased to be somebody. Carrie, wife to the recently deceased Roger–a cherished member of the Sacred Hearts men’s group, I easily fall into conversation with.  Let me correct that, for in truth, we converse within difficulty, yet more and more we talk. Politics are a major stumbling block. There always seems to be disagreements no matter how hard I try for neutrality. She has a supporting friend who attends Mass with her. The two of them, along with lawyer Jim and the electrical contractor, all formed a table of lively conversation today. At one point, Carrie said something to me about attending a Bible study. I was convinced she said Saint Bernard’s. I told her I was not familiar with that church, enquiring about its location. Carrie and her friend looked at me like I was crazy. The looks were utter bewilderment. I repeated my question that I was not familiar with Saint Bernard’s. The two women busted out laughing. Her friend hysterically declaring I needed a hearing aid. She announced that Carrie clearly pronounced Sacred Heart. I laughed with them at myself, amused. I am convinced I heard Saint Bernard’s. The women took delight in laughing at me. Of course, this all comes on top of political differences, as well as meaningful sharing about retired Bishop Pella. The Bishop spoke at the Sacred Heart men’s retreat. I was telling them and the men how the retired Bishop spoke lovingly about his current living situation. The retired priest, the leader of a major American diocese, now took pleasure in living with his niece, her husband, and their children. After a lifetime of religious service the priest retired to a simple unassuming life amongst a loving family as an uncle.  Carrie’s friend knew the family, responding with affirmation when I expressed the notion the family was blessed, most likely very Holy. I mention all this to illustrate a point. Immense importance is placed upon fellowship for a precise reason. Jungian thought defines personality types into two distinct categories: introvert and extrovert. Generalizing, the importance is not to create division within society, nor within an individual. The greatest spiritual growth is recognizing that both traits exist within us. We are all both Martha and Mary. Without a doubt, I am an introvert, extreme in make-up. Yet to grow fully, it is the strengthening and coming to peace with my weaker aspect that is essential. To become satisfied and healthy as an extrovert is my challenge, failing in this regard was truly one of the roots of my alcoholism. My son has me reading a book on learning to come to peace with one’s need to be quiet, the acceptance and appreciation of one’s introverted tendency. Society will not acknowledge and reward, yet on the advanced spiritual level it is the hidden life of passionate glory if revealed in such splendor. That is all well and good, vital to charging my batteries, opening myself to God in silence and stillness, yet being noisy for me is the part of life that has broken me. Being overly sensitive, fearing conflict, low in self-esteem, while harvesting interior strength within creates a complex personality disorder. In the recovery world they use the extreme term an ‘egomaniac with an inferiority complex’. That is harsh and dramatic, confrontational in acknowledging truth. I think there is a softer side of the situation in which a person is developing proper insight, blessed with wisdom and understanding, yet unable to come to peace with himself and society. The consequence is behavior out of harmony with a peaceful interior life.  The chaos within a personality sowing the seeds of wisdom in a deep prayer life can create a disturbing neurosis hungry for expression. The one striding forward in prayer is most likely an awkward social creature. In other words, living the ‘hidden’ spiritual life proves difficult and complex in regards to producing good fruit, ultimately frustrating in translating a rich interior life into an inconspicuous exterior life. Not to fall into disorder demands grace. God must be given prominence. Often I reflect upon My Holy Mother. I am sure people were disregarding, demeaning, and disrespecting to her. Wasn’t there a part of her that wanted to sit the apostles down and teach them, to say to them you must listen to me for within my womb was conceived and grew the Son of God? Yet I am positive she never did such things. She did not need to be right or esteemed in the eyes of others. Advancing the idea of being profoundly hidden is the accepting of being seen and heard, to go about visible, yet unremarkable. It is huge in my lack of interest with the Charismatic movement. How can God call me into a deeper simplicity within the wine cellar, silent and solitary, alone with God continuously, if I am babbling in tongues or listening to others stammer on. I prefer and accept the silence of God. It is enough. Quieting myself is the challenge, not focusing on advancing in spoken unintelligible words. The maturity I passionately pursue in advancement of my extroverted self is not to be found in extravagance. The maturity I admire and find inspiring exists through growth upon the emotional, social, romantic, and human level. Relationships with individuals, one-to-one and within groups. The way I treat others matters. God cares nothing about my cleverness, superior efforts, my supernatural excursions, nor spiritual advancement. How did I love Him through my brothers and sisters? Once the exterior is put proper, the refining and revealing can take place, a contemplative harvesting within purity and prayer. Being able to be silent and hidden while active in a healthy mature social life. A curveball, it all prepares for a superior cloistered life. Jim Nagle, within our advanced relationship, has challenged me. Forsaking false humility, he asked me in one page, brief and concise, to define a religious order of my making, a community embracing charisms I feel necessary for contemplative advancement, ultimately Unification with God. He stresses not to pursue a constitution, rules and regulations, rather an overview of a community embracing the religious life specific to my calling. I will accept the challenge, while not rushing for results; fusing, musing, thinking, and most of all praying for guidance and enlightenment.

Scripture: Psalm 131: I Have Stilled My Soul.

Lord, my heart is not exalted: nor are my eyes lofty. Neither have I walked in great matters, nor in wonderful things above me.

If I was not humbly minded, but exalted my soul: As a child that is weaned is towards his mother, so reward in my soul.

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