Discerning the Voice

Mountains were often sought after as places of solitude and prayer

If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts says psalm 95:8. When we are sincere in seeking God, we are by that very fact listening to his voice. The problem isn't in our hearts' willingness, but our ability to discern God's voice from the many other voices we hear.

I think one of the voices we must be wary of is the voice that tries to reason with us against our own heart. That voice is outside of ourselves, and looks at situations from a very natural and worldly point of view. It's not always wrong. But because it is sometimes right, we are tempted to let that voice decide for us, and we shouldn't. 

Another voice we must be wary of is our own voice of reason. Sometimes what God invites us to do is not at all reasonable. Sometimes God asks us to take another direction or to leave something familiar behind. If we guide ourselves by reason only, we will miss the call.

Think of the disciples. Leaving nets, boats and families, they followed Jesus, who promised them nothing. Had they reasoned Jesus call out, they most likely would never have followed him.

I think a major part of hearing God's voice is trusting in our ability to hear it. We are so afraid to believe in our spiritual self. Maybe that is the real meaning of the words If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. If today you hear the voice of God, trust in your ability to hear.

Arrested in the Spirit

Mountain flowers, growing in spite of snow all around them.

I think sometimes our spiritual life becomes arrested. I think that happens when we get 'stuck' with an idea, a phrase, a concept. We cling to it, and become its defender. We become aggressive if challenged, and refuse to think differently, to even allow another possible thought on the subject to enter into our minds. I think such states are to be pitied.

The gospel of Matthew has Jesus saying  I have come not to abolish [the law and the prophets] but to fulfill. (9:17). We tend to think of these words literally, as fulfilling prophecy, and that is true. But he has come for more. He has come to fulfill our own desires for wholeness, for meaning, and for destiny. He shows us how by assisting our search in finding God in every situation and event. To do that, we can't close our hearts to others. Otherwise, we become "stuck" in our mode. We are limiting God's ability to enlighten us in this situation, this event, this distress.

To be open is to be courageous. It requires an immense amount of faith and trust. And it requires a frequent inner eye of reflection to take stock. Best of all, being open makes us gentle, compassionate, and forgiving.

Being Set Free

In Jn 8:31-32, we read Jesus words If you remain in my word, you will be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

There is an invitation in these words, to accept the words of Jesus, to live them out. For as we can see, only when we remain in his word are we set free. What is it to remain in his word? It is to seek life with an altruistic heart and with courage. For sometimes the truth we learn about us, a situation in life, or about others, reveals hardships or weaknesses we would rather not have learned. Sometimes learning a truth is like opening a Pandora’s box, leading us onto a journey that is more painful than the one we enjoyed in ignorance.

And yet, the truth does indeed set us free. We must be willing to bear its burden. Unlike a Hollywood version, seeking the truth does not always result in some glorious Epiphany. Sometimes the truth is accepting the hard facts about ourselves or our lives. But the end result is always the same: it will set you free.

Athirst for the Living God

In psalm 42:3 we read Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

It takes time to relearn life. Reading through psalm 42-43 of today’s liturgy, I remember when as a monastic, I sang these psalms, looking up to the altar, aware that my life was for God and God alone. I found great comfort in psalms like these, psalms that re-affirmed my status as a monastic. I think such psalms gave me a reprieve from my overwhelming sense of confinement. The depression that oppressed my soul would momentarily part, and I would see the bigger picture, and believe I had a purpose in life, one yet to be revealed.

When leaving the monastery, I had a hard time letting go of these thoughts. Just like today, when reading the psalm, these past moments of exhilaration return, and I find myself homesick for those times I stood in the center of the choir and sang these words from the depth of my soul, knowing I was literally living out the psalm. 

I have to go beyond this image now. I have to realize I haven’t left the psalm because I left the monastery. I have to know that in my own life here and now, I can still yearn for the living God, wanting to meet him face to face. I have to know that, the sense of purpose I believed in in the past still exists, and waits to be revealed a bit at a time. That I can still stand before God in my heart and imagine my life lived for God alone.

Having Meaning for Someone

Today's Gospel story (Jn 4: 5-42)  is one of my favorite, the woman at the well. Here we see Jesus actively pursuing the spirit of a woman who has been cast aside by society. Jesus breaks all the Jewish rules of his time. He not only talks to her, but he asks her to give him a drink. When she questions him for breaking the societal and religious taboos, Jesus simply replies, if you but knew the gift of God and who is saying to you 'give me a drink' you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.

How often does the spirit of God come to us in the most unlikely fashion. How often does that spirit ask of us a gift. And we know it not. We see the circumstances in the most mundane manner. We forget the spirit of God that moves even the most common of creatures, and breaks even the most solemn of rules. The spirit will go to any length to touch our souls.

If you but knew the gift of God. I would like to make that my mantra. I would like to remind myself at every turn, somewhere in this circumstance, in this event, there is a gift from God for me. Somehow, in God asking me for a gift, he also offers a special grace in return. For God is not hampered by our societal norms. He breaks all containment, to reach out and offer us living water, water that quenches our thirst. Even as we search for meaning in our lives, we must also remember that we have meaning for someone, for the Divine.

Make it Your Own

Who of us has not been touched by a beautiful thought, a wonderful book, or an inspiring story. The Gospels too offer rich insights. Paul Claudet writes The Gospels show us the Savior coming to the soul and imparting truth and virtue by the touch of a hand, the brushing of a garment, a bit of moistened earth applied to the locked eyelids. One look from him is enough to make an apostle out of that idler yawning under the fig tree…

What Claudet writes is poetic. Many times words or phrases from the gospel touch our hearts, and we feel inspired and lifted up. But such sentiments, wonderful as they are, often fail us when life tumbles and we are grasping for something solid. Just like the apostles of Jesus, being moved by the words of Jesus is not enough. When their lives tumbled, and suffering surrounded them and their Master, these same disciples deserted Jesus in the garden. They dropped everything they had and ran for their lives. Why? They had heard and were amazed at what Jesus said. But they had not imbibed those words at a deeper level. They had to realize that the beauty of Jesus words give life only when we make them our own.

There are times in our lives when the words that once sounded poetic and profound no longer inspire. That is a good time for us, a time laden with grace, because it brings us to a new awareness. It brings us to a point where we cannot continue as passive spectators. If we allow it, the very questioning we begin opens up the truths we believe in, allowing us to delve deeper. Only when we find better answers, ones brought out by our own ponderings and not some pious sentiment found in a book, will we find strength in Jesus words.

Living Destiny with Shadow

The mystery of faith. It encompasses all we do, for we all have a faith system, whether we are aware of it or not. That faith system directs our actions, influences our decisions, and colors everything we see. For the spiritual person, it also helps us discern what God is trying to say to us in this life.

The Old Testament often represents God speaking to an individual through a dream. Perhaps this is to demonstrate how discernment of God's plans carries with it a shadow of uncertainty. Here on earth, we will always see through a veil. And this is the fact of life. For those who want to be sure, well, they will have a long wait, or they will live in delusion. And I consider that kind of life rather static.

Do we find our destiny? I think we can. And I think it always reveals itself in what empowers us. If we are living from day to day, bored, stressed, frustrated and disillusioned, I think we may need to do some better discerning. For destiny should bring with it a sense of fulfillment, peace, and inner joy. Destiny is finding our place in God's plan, and that always makes one whole.

Destiny, fate, providence. All such aspects of our life of faith take the inner eye of reflection. And if we believe in the presence within, we will not need the certainty without.

Power in the Spirit

Jn 7: 37-38 says If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me; whoever believes in me, let him drink. Streams of living water shall flow out from within...

We can see that our spirituality is not for us alone. If properly attended to, it will flow out from within where it has been nurtured and fed, to spill out for others around us.

It is this concept that gave early monastics their confidence that their lives of prayer were powerful and fruitful for the world. Living in silence and solitude, they offered little to the world of activity. Yet, their lives were considered active because their prayer included the whole world.

Today, it is harder to convince others of the power of a life of prayer. Today, action and works dominate our culture, so much so that monastic life is seen as introspective and selfish. The attitude is, if we are not DOING something, than what use is our lives?

Yet, from Jesus words, we see that power does not come from works, but from willing abandonment to his will and his words.

I was told a long time ago that the only person I had control over, the only person I could change, was myself.  What we forget is how changing ourselves doesn't affect just us. It spreads out and touches others, it inspires and encourages, it becomes a living stream that refreshes. To see someone change reminds me that I too can change.

Remember too that becoming deeply spiritual, and communicating with God through a real relationship has a power for your own life. You travel into that special place with Someone neither tangible or containable. In effect, even as you change, you find the presence of God, or better put, the more acute awareness of the presence of God transforms your whole being.

Never underestimate the good you have the power to do just by living your life of prayer and meditation. And though monastics have the medium for such a life of prayer, they do not hold exclusive rights to contemplation. If you take the time to pursue a spiritual life, you have the power to let living waters flow from you into the world around you.

Deliberating at the Crossroad

We all come to crossroads in our life, when we are forced to chose a direction. We stand still at those times, wondering which path to take, which road will lead us to our true destiny.

I wonder if that is the better meaning of the word "cross" that Jesus speaks of. In our world of negative tendencies, we often make the description physical, and tag the image of him dying on it. As though suffering is the only way. But the cross should mean more than just dying. I think we should see the cross as a symbol of life, as a sign of the decisions we make at crucial times, decisions that will impact where we go and our ultimate destiny.


I think there is a spirituality that encourages us to hand over our decision making in spiritual matters to those in the church. As if we cannot be trusted, as if any mistake we might make would be catastrophic. Sad. Because to truly be on a journey means to take risks and knows mistakes. And a spiritual life that is not fraught with insecurities, disillusionment, and confusion offers little chance of practicing faith, hope and trust.

Choices confront us constantly, and I would like to think this is what Jesus means when he says, "take up your cross and follow me." Not that life must be one long journey of suffering; but that life requires constant decision making. Carrying our cross should mean carrying our responsibility and learning from it. Such a spirituality is solid, built on constant discernment. And what is discernment but standing before the face of God, and knowing he is God.

The True Struggle with Injuries

Santiago Trail, Cahors France

We've all heard it said. It isn't so much what happens to you in life but how you deal with it.

And it is true: we do need to deal with things, to process what happens.

But I think our greater struggle comes from the hidden anger we have with ourselves And I believe that is why we have such a hard time letting go. Though we say someone betrayed or misrepresented or whatever they did to us, something bothers us more. If we stopped and were really honest,  I bet we would hear ourselves saying Why did I believe what she said? Why do I trust people so? When will I learn? 

Perhaps that's why forgiveness is so hard for us. Perhaps when it comes to forgiveness, the hardest person to forgive is myself.

Remembering Frailty

We are to be like God. We like the sound of that. When I think of that statement, I think of power, divinity, wholeness. But it means more. As Jesus says in today's gospel Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. (Luke 6:36) Now that is a tall order...

Dom Anscar Vonier says Our whole Christian outlook should be an outlook of goodness.What a witness of Christianity that would be! But for some reason, Christians tend to be very critical of others, very much judging and often condemning. How come? The Jesus of the gospel is anything but.

I believe it has to do with fear. Perhaps seeing others stumble, fail, fall reminds us too much of our own weakness and darkness. And perhaps that is scary because we have not yet gone beyond the possibility of failure. We want to put such thoughts out of our mind. We want to live without the remembrance of our frailty.

But we need to remember, because remembering is part of reflecting God's goodness.

To be merciful to others really means to remember my own weakness. If I do, I will allow others to find their way. Because I will remember that we are all on a journey toward discovery. We each need time to reach enlightenment, which also means we need time to stumble, to grasp, to grope in the dark. Being merciful means remembering I don't have it all together either. And if I need time, I should also give time to others.

Transfigured Every Day

Ever try to have a conversation with someone, and feel you are communicating on a different level? You say the same things, but  you mean something very different.


The same could be said of the disciples of today, with the Transfiguration. They are so happy to be with Jesus on the mountain when they see light, glory, voices and promises. Jesus tells them not to count on such glory. And they don't  understand. When they should remember his words down the road, they run.

Often scripture means different things to us at different times in our lives. We should realize that our understanding is constantly undergoing a transformation, a conversion, a translation. What we think now is bound to change. It has too. For understanding Jesus, being on his level takes a life time.

Transformation is the lesson of Transfiguration. It is not a one time occasion. It should happen every day of our lives.

Discovering the Truth of ME

If life's journey should teach us anything, it should teach us the value of honesty. We all have experience on how hurtful dishonesty is. Yet,in my own life, it is easy to forget that value, to seek to please, to say what the other wants to hear, or to paint a picture that isn't quite true.

I think that when we do this, when we present ourselves other than what we really are, we go down wrong paths. We get that job, or position, or friend because we've made them believe something about ourselves that is not so. And that leads us to places we should not be.

I recently had a very important interview. During the interview, I spoke from my soul, giving answers that came from my truth. I did no pre-rehearsed statements. I did not take hints from the questions, or try to match my answer to some agenda. I gave them the real me.

Later, driving home, I wondered about that. After all, we are taught in interviews to match the criteria. And I did do that. I just didn't exaggerate or mislead. I didn't pretend to anything. Should I have? 

Then I thought, I gave them my best, because I gave them my true self without guile. If this particular thing I  applied for is for me, this will be what they wanted. If it isn't, then it is better I don't receive it. In other words, to try to force my life down a certain path by a particular scripted agenda probably leads to more heartache and less fulfillment. More distraction from the purpose of life and less finding my destiny.

Do we believe we are being led? Then why do we need to pretend to anything? "Seek the truth, and the truth will set you free" Jesus said in John 8:32.

When we seek the truth, it must not just be about things outside of ourselves. It must also be ourselves, me. And finding that truth isn't enough. I must then live that truth through honesty. It takes a lot more courage, faith and trust than one realizes! But it does set one free.

Free Falling

Do you sometimes feel like your soul is in a state of "free falling"?  I felt that way this past week, and tried to figure out what was going on in my inner life. My resolutions were going to pot, my energy was wearing thin, and I felt like I'd had a spiritual and moral "blowout". Despite all my trust and faith, I was scared. I was in a real limbo, and I couldn't decide what I was suppose to do.

Then a friend came by Wednesday and started to talk about the eagle. He reminded me that a mother eagle pushes her baby eagle chick out of the nest so that it falls freely through the air, only to swoop down at the last minute to catch it before it hits the ground. The mother does this because her chick will never learn to fly otherwise. Then my friend handed me a page from Deuteronomy 32:10-12 and I read

In a desert land he found him,

   in a barren and howling waste.
He shielded him and cared for him;
   he guarded him as the apple of his eye,
 like an eagle that stirs up its nest
   and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
   and carries them aloft.
The LORD alone led him;
   no foreign god was with him.

  

My friend wanted me to pray for Japan and the victims there. But he was unknowingly offering me something for my own inner tsunami.

Sometimes we are free falling. We need to remember the eagle, who will be there for us. Not when we cry, but when it is best.

Sitting with Emptiness

Lately I've been watching the news more, anxious to know how things are going in Japan. But when I turn on the news, I see the same things reported over and over again. I realize part of this is the need for the news media to fill in their allotted time slot. Still, it wearies me.

But then I realize the same can happen in my spiritual life. I can feel the need to say a set number of prayers, or do a set time of meditation in order to "fill in" my time or keep to a schedule. In other words, my prayer life can itself become routine to the point of being insincere. How can I guard against that? Obviously, there will be times when it doesn't come easily or naturally. What to do? Go through the motions in the hope that it will return? I was taught that form of perseverance. But I no longer agree with it.

I think instead we should return to the thought of yesterday about dormancy. There are times when we do feel empty, with nothing to say. I'm not suggesting we forego meditation at those times. What I am suggesting is that instead of filling those times with rote prayers, we instead sit with our emptiness. We can be still before God, and wait upon the Lord. It is hard to do. But it is an important part of the process.

My problem has always been the fear of feeling empty. I've come to realize that this is part of being in the desert. There is a time for emptiness, a time for sitting in silence without a thought in our head. While we are waiting for inspiration, God is at work in our soul. The secret is to stay focused, to stay alive, to stay with God even though he seems far away. In time, when we look back, we shall see the fruits of such deeds.

We must train ourselves to accept this part of the journey, the "lost and tired of searching" chapter we all must go through. For by accepting our emptiness, we will come to the day when we exclaim with Peter, "Lord, it is good for us to be here!"

Going Through Dormancy

As I sit here in early dawn, the birds ourside are singing away, announcing that sping is not too far away. For those of you who live where there are seasons, you know the joy of that first crocus, that first bud, that first bloom. Spring tells us the earth is awakening from its winter sleep.

We owned an apple orchard when I was growing up. I learned early on how important the dormant season is if you hope to get a good harvest. Apples require so many dormant days if they are going to produce fruit.

We have dormant periods in our spiritual life as well, days when our enthusiasm wanes, our inspiration lessens, and perhaps we second guess where we are on our journey. Perhaps this is the true meaning of Lent, a reminder that all of life cannot be blossoms and buds. We must go through a dormant period as well, and that such times reflect not some kind of moral failure but is the normal rhythm of any life.

So take heart. Dormant periods are good for our souls. We can take these times to surrender to the process. We can learn to let go, to trust, to believe without feeling or sensing. For ultimately, we will find spring again. And our fruit will bear the witness to our patience in dormancy.

Getting Caught Up in No

When I left the Sunday service yesterday, I felt a bit peeved. The homily did not lift my soul. In fact, I found the homily terribly negative, all about the things we shouldn't do, all about the evils we should avoid.

I sat in the pew and thought of the temptation of Jesus in the desert, and wondered what Jesus would preach about this event. And it came to me, Jesus would turn it around. He would tell us that with every "no" we must say, there must also be a corresponding "yes" to something else. To think of life's choices only in terms of things we must say "no" to is to make our life negative, to make ourselves only half alive!

A good example of what I'm saying comes from the gospel of Matthew. Jesus is asked to choose which commandments of Moses is the greatest. Instead, he replies: You shall love the Lord Your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind...You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments. (22:36-40)

Just as the people of Jesus time got caught up in the "no" of life, so too can we. Think of Lent. Do we not make it a time of mostly things to say "no" to? What if we turned it around like Jesus did, and instead made it a time to make a list of "yes" choices? We can visit someone who is sick, call someone who is lonely, give time to a good cause. We can forgive an offense, forget an injury, say a kind word. Such actions would be "yes" actions. And an abundance of many "yes" actions would bring so much sunshine into our lives!

The Agony toward Divinity

As a novice in the monastery, The Practice of Christian Perfection by Alonso Rodriguez was required readings for all of us. One particular story stands out in my mind, his interpretation of the story of Garden of Eden, of Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit. He said Adam and Eve ate of the fruit not in defiance of God or his commands, but because their hearts longed to be like God.They mistakenly thought that if they ate the fruit, they would obtain what they longed for.

We all have an inner longing to be like God, whether we are aware of it or not. The Gospel of John 10:34 Jesus says Is it not written in your law "I said, you are gods?" Since the dawn of creation, we humans know we are made for something bigger than life, and that life as we know it is only half the story.

Our soul moans and yearns for divinity every single day. Half of our struggle in life is discerning this agony of heart within us, why we long so, and what for. We have to learn for ourselves that image of God. We are made to become as gods, St. Therese says. That is our destiny. We become gods when we reflect the Divine Image.

The Divine Image is before us. It is our task to see, to reflect, to mirror. It isn't something as simple as eating fruit. It is a life-long practice of faith and love. It is accepting the agony of longing knowing it cannot be fulfilled except by more longing. In time, this longing transforms us, and we find that we have fallen in love with the Divine.

To fall in love with God. It does happen. We can seek the Divine to the extent that it means the world to us, that we receive our greatest joy in his service, in singing his praise, in imitating him. It doesn't take our longing away. Instead, it turns us to focus on the desire of our heart, giving us a destination and a Someone.

Chance Encounters

Chance encounter. It's the moment we are invited to step into a different role or invited to move forward to something new, something defining. We often don't recognize these encounters because we wait for something dramatic, something like the conversion of St. Paul, or the call of the disciple Matthew. Most of us will never experience an encounter that pronounced. For most of us, it will consist of something small, so small we can pass the opportunity by without even glancing back and wondering. And the loss will be ours, though we do not know it.

Romans says Those who were not my people I will call "my people" and her who was not beloved I will call "beloved." Because none of us are meant to remain as we are. We are all called forth to something greater, something destined. The question is not, what is my destiny? but how can I prepare so that when my destiny presents itself, I am ready to step forward? ((58:9b)

The invitation can be as subtle as the change of light throughout the day. The rays descend down at a different slant, the intensity varies. We can go though a whole day without noting it. But it is happening.

We all experience chance encounters. How we receive them will determine where we go in life, and how deeply we step into our roles.

 

Being Present in Silence

All the silence in the world cannot give us what we want, because silence by itself is void. We must bring presence into that silence, presence that accompanies us in our search and in our stillness.

There are two types of presence. The first is presence with ourselves. How many times our blindness to simple things about ourselves keep us from an intimate relationship with God. It's not that we have failed to change. It is that we have failed to recognize our brokeness, our need for healing, the woundedness in our soul. Recognizing it is the first step toward healing.

The second presence we must develop is the Divine presence. We have that presence with us. We just do not allow ourselves to sit with it enough to become vividly aware of it. We think we must sit in a church, or a solitary place conducive to lifting the mind and heart to God. But God is within. You need not lift so much as open.

Being present allows us to be there to experience. It means our eyes are open and our hearts are listening. It means we are discerning more than looking, intuiting rather than surmising. It means that we have stepped down into the level of consciousness that sees below the surface and knows without having to be told.

Let us bring silence into our Lenten practices. And let us enter into that silence fully awake, fully aware, and with presence.

Letting Silence Lead

Silence is Golden

During Lent we often hear the need to "die to self". It's an ancient concept, one I hold is misleading. It gives the impression that all that is human is tainted, and that the only way to a spiritual life is to kill the human tendencies. Nothing could be more wrong.

Jesus never said we must "choose death". He said we must live in the light of truth. Moses says in Deuteronomy, I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the Lord, your God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him.(30:19).

How do we heed the voice of God? Where is that voice heard? In contemplative prayer. Through contemplative prayer, we will discern which choice leads to life, and which leads to death.

Elizabeth of the Trinity writes The contemplative is a being who lives in the radiance of the Face of Christ, who enters into the mystery of God, not in the light that flows from human thought, but in that created by the word of the Incarnate Word.

Let us retreat into a period of silence and learn contemplative prayer. For contemplative prayer takes us beyond mere human enlightenment. It brings us into the light of the Divine. If we position ourselves daily before the Face of Christ, our choices will reflect life.

Making a Quiet Corner

Reading through the gospel for Ash Wednesday, I was struck by a recurring theme. It was not repentance, though that is what we usually think of at the start of Lent. It was the repeated sentence: "And your Father who sees in secret will repay you." (Mt 6:4)

The sentence reminds us of what is important, the inside. This is an interesting twist, as Ash Wednesday usually draws large numbers who are eager and intent on receiving those coveted ashes. I sometimes wonder, what do people expect from those ashes? Salvation? Or perhaps they are trying to remember that life has another side, a spiritual side. But remembering is not enough.

Externals can give only so much comfort and grace.  Ashes, like all sacramental, are merely outward signs. The intention of outward signs is to remind us of eternal truths. To profit from those truths, we must make them real for ourselves.

I suggest that this lent, let us take the externals like fasting, sacrifices, and extra prayers, and turn them inside by concentrating on our being, on our intentions. Let us not be content with ashes. Let us step into more silence and meditation. Let us make for ourselves a quiet corner this Lent, one where we can sit in secret and think about God. One where we transform eternal truths into our very being. Then, we can discover just what the God who sees in secret will give us as reward. I suspect it is probably the Divine Being himself.

Build a Relation with the Flawless

Painting by Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP

We all need a good friend, someone we can pour out our souls without fear of criticism or rebuttal. We all appreciate a love that does not judge us, but helps us deal with the situations of life as they arise. Yet, we will never find the "perfect" friend, one who will always understand, always encourage, and never fail us. Only the Divine can fill that role.

The Jerusalem Community Rule of Life states: Let your soul be filled day and night with this loving presence of the Lord, and you will live. Strong in the joy of this divinity within you and the power of his love, you will never falter.'

The message here is  not "don't trust your friends" but "no matter how good your friends, you still need the enduring love of the Divine." Face it. We all have moments when we feel let down or even betrayed by our closest allies. We must not then turn from them, but turn to the Divine who will help us through rough waters. We cannot expect a human to perform flawlessly. We need to nurture our friendships, to work to make  them grow, to understand the rough times and forgive the misunderstandings. We can only do that if we already have a close relationship with someone flawless, the Divine, who helps us through storms and disappointments.

If we build that relationship within, we will better understand the relationships without. We will not expect others to be the ONE, and we will not judge them on one or two actions that they eventually regret. And strange enough, we will become a better friend ourselves.

Remembering...

Today I visited a friend who recently learned that she has terminal cancer and is given only a very short time to live. The news totally shocked all of us,  including herself. She had no clue she was so sick.

She had began a spiritual journey a while back that led her along a very different path than the one she had been on previously. I looked at her lying in her hospital bed, helpless to overcome the pain and sickness that had overtaken her. I thought of her faithfulness to the path of her calling, her dedication to God, working toward a closer union with him, and I told her what an inspiration she's been to me. She looked at me and said, "As I look back now, I can see how God was preparing me for all of this." I listened to her and thought, yes, looking back we often see the hand of God in our lives.

Hindsight reveals things we don't often see in the moment. Sometimes our most difficult times were times of our greatest graces. Looking back, we often see clearly how God was leading us, and we did not know it.

You would think that once we realize this, once we looked back and saw just how much God took care of us, we would never doubt him again. But it doesn't work that way. Each time, we must remind ourselves anew.

That's when it's good to look back and remember. When looking forward seems fragile, look back. Remembering God's care is a great antidote for fear or doubt. Remembering just how much the Divine has been there for us, guided us, lead us along the right path can give us courage to face uncertainly. My friend certainly exemplifies that.

A Power in Life

In the gospel of John we read: If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me; whoever believes in me, let him drink. Streams of living water shall flow out from within (7:37-38).

Scripture makes it clear that living spirituality bears fruit, and not for us alone. If we are serious about our life of the spirit, if we attend to the Divine within, if we strive for the union between soul and body, we cannot help but spill out that love and life to others around us.

Such concepts dominated the early monastic life, the belief that the best thing you can do for the world was to change and transform yourself. That all goodness and conversion start in one's own heart. Such concepts gave great regard for a life of prayer, believing it the most powerful and fruitful force for the whole world.

Today, such concepts have fallen by the wayside. Activity has taken over prayer, and we do feel if we aren't doing something tangible, we are doing nothing.  As believers, it's hard to reconcile such belief with our own conviction that grace is lived out in transformation. Doing in not the whole of the spiritual life. It starts with being.

Every one of us can live in the spirit of the  monastics. Every one of us has access to meditation, reflection, Lectio Divina and contemplation. Never underestimate the good you can do by living your life of prayer and meditation. Believe in the power of prayer, the power of transformation, and you will come to realize that  living waters do flow from you into the world around you, enlightening, refreshing and encouraging.

Refusing to Sell Out

Recently reading Gerald Corey, I came across this statement:

The trouble with so many of us is that we have sought directions, answers, values, and beliefs from the important people in our world. Rather than trusting ourselves to search within and find our own answers to the conflict in our life, we sell out by becoming what others expect of us.

I know that this statement needs to be qualified. Our journey is not something we do alone. Finding answers means opening ourselves up to the broader world, seeking a good mentor, and trusting others. But I think Corey's statement carries a great truth...we find it hard to trust ourselves. And that is part of the journey.

Corey is advocating being true to yourself, to follow your dream instead of someone else's dream for you. That is true enough. Too often we let others determine what we would like or what we want in life.

Healthy balance is what I've found most helpful. Finding your true self is a life-long pursuit, and you need feedback to help you in this journey. We just don't need to hand over our whole task of discernment to another. We need to gradually build confidence in our own ability to discern, to find answers, to know what is best for ourselves. This is part of the spiritual journey. This is part of spiritual maturity.

Learning the Image of God

Why do we pray? Is it for personal reasons? Is it because we feel we are commanded to pray? Or do we want to get to know God a little better?

There are many reasons to pray, just as there are many ways. But one thing is certain, sincerity in prayer will lead one away from the ordinary and into presence. Anthony Esolen says that our prayer should call us out of ourselves.To be called out requires stepping into the unknown. It means taking prayer not simple as a connection to God, but as our imagination learning to recognize the image of God.

As in all things Divine, we are constantly revising our concepts. Bernard Bro says that all too often our prayer is addressed to an abstract, deformed image, to a God as the representative of an idea and a law, much more than to the ineffable Person who, through his love, has allied his destiny with ours...

Prayer should be about getting our image of God right. How do we know when it is right? I think it comes when we understand God in the manner of Isaiah 43:20-21 who writes: I put water in the desert and rivers in the wasteland for my chosen people to drink, the people I formed for myself, that they  might announce my praise. Isaiah's image of God is one who cares for us in the situation that we are in, not as one who takes us out of it. God doesn't take us out of the desert of our lives; he gives us our necessities. In essence, God doesn't change our situation. He is there to provide as we journey thought the desert, the wasteland.

Getting the image right means knowing the God who allows us the struggle, but steadies our feet; who leads us through the Valley of Darkness but doesn't leave us alone; who broods over our chaotic souls without taking the chaos away. Because God is bigger than all of that.

Choosing Darkness

Ever notice how society judges your success by how confident you are with yourself, by your lack of failures, problems or difficulties, by how popular and acceptable your choices are? A person is considered balanced if he or she has experienced few troubles and had no crisis; has never been knocked down and never felt disillusioned. Really?

Many spiritual writers say life has two paths: one with the visible, tangible, and tactile road, often superficial, often empty, with success, money, and fame as its goal; the other, the spiritual, often elusive, more intuitive, less trodden, less sure of ourselves, with seeking and deep reflection. Sometimes we try to combine the two, looking for a spirituality that is romantic, "good feeling", and esoteric, one that promises us security in exchange for prayers. So its not surprising when we judge spiritual progress by its lack of difficulties, as if obstacles signaled insincerity or lack of dedication.

Read again the first book of Genesis. It describes how God created not from calm, but from chaos, from darkness, from emptiness. The narrative describes how darkness is the matter which God used to bring forth something new. Believe that the Spirit of Truth isn't seeking that which is untroubled, but "troubled waters." Sometimes, a lack of difficulties stem from a fear to risk, a contentment with what is, and not from some devotedness to God.

Don't let yourself fall into the fallacy of pleasant living. Give yourself over to the Spirit of Truth. Do not shy away from risks, challenges or darkness. For when you step into this realm of spirituality, you will find a different way of living. You will experience all sorts of emotions hidden to you previously. You will stretch out your hand as Peter did and say, "Lord, save me." And you will find the Hand of God, and the darkness will become for you better than light. For you will have left the superficial behind, and entered into a deep relationship with the spirit.

Learning to Taste and See

Knowing God comes not from reading about him, but by experiencing him in prayer. Not just any kind of prayer, but the kind that sits in silence before God and lets God permeate the soul. Christians call this kind of prayerful experience contemplation. It is a time when, as Richard Rohr writes, we stop judging, controlling and analyzing life and everything in it and turn instead to seeing, tasting and loving what we have, what has happened to us, where we find ourselves. None of this happens naturally. We must practice it a long time before we begin to experience its fruits.

Taste and see that the Lord is good says Ps. 34:8. We are invited to enjoy God as we would a banquet. To do so we must change our image of God. We must know how concerned he is about our daily lives. We must see him as in our midst. Contemplation allows us to become aware of this mystery, to push past the veil and begin to tangible know the goodness of God.

Contemplation begins with listening. Often people tell me, "I can't be still. A thousand thoughts come rushing through my head when I try." So the need for practice. It takes time to learn how to wait upon the Lord, who indeed is waiting upon us.

If we would taste and see that the Lord is good, we need to learn how to be still. Not a sterile stillness, but one of readiness, openness and hope.