Fearing to Thirst

I love this quote from Lautréamont: According to what I am told, I am the son of man and woman; This astonishes me...I thought I was more.

We all want more than mere birthright. We all long for something we think of as more. But as much as we long, so true too is the fact that this longing is unsettling, disturbing, difficult. Often we don't know how to fill the void inside, or simply, that void, that unsettling feeling, that thirst hurts too much. And so, as Bernard Bro says, as much as we long, we also fear. This is the tragic aspect of the grandeur of the mind. Each of us succeeds perfectly, if she so wishes, in suffocating the questions that disturb her, in anesthetizing them...we have a thirst for happiness, but we are afraid of being thirsty.

Timothy 2:12 says, Let our lives be honest and holy in this persent age, as we wait for the happiness to come...

Part of thirst is waiting. I do not know anyone who likes waiting. Perhaps that is the real challenge. For that is the spirit of Advent.

Sojourn into the Desert

During this season of the year we read about John the Baptist and his desert experience. We are told that Isaiah prophesied, a voice would cry out in the wilderness asking us to make straight the path to our God (Is. 40:9). I have always thought of the Advent desert as a time of personal preparation: clean out the excess thoughts and grudges, make ready the heart to welcome Divinity in with greater fullness.

But on my walk this morning, as I was thinking of Finals and papers, another thought came to me. I realized that we all have deserts in our lives, times when our efforts seem to produce little fruit, when life seems dry and barren, and success and happiness become nothing but a mirage. Perhaps the Baptist's call to go into the desert is a cry to care for a fellow sojourner whose life has become difficult.

We fill in the valleys and make every mountain and hill low when we help to balance that person's hope. We can help diminish some of that fear and build up some of that confidence. In short, we can give encouragement and understanding. If we do this, the sojourn in the desert may be shortened, and that person will come out a whole person, not one broken and defeated.

There are so many of us who could profit by a bit of understanding. Yes, we may act out our fears and anxiety. But if only one person sits by us, holds our hand and hears our story, we find heart and courage. In that courage we may even find healing and wholeness.

Isn't that what the Christmas story is all about? A story of hope in the midst of a very unfair world. So let us each look for that sojourner in the desert, the one who feels weighed down right now and can use a caring heart. Let us reach out not with our answers, but with a sympathetic ear that listens to their story. Who knows. That may be the one thing that they need at this time.

Advent in the monastery

Advent. When the season comes around, I find myself homesick for the life of a monastic. Where else would life take on new meaning just because it is Advent? No where but in a monastery. With first Vespers comes added silence, fasting and prayer. And one is reminded again to prepare one's heart for the very real coming of the Divine Being into one's heart and soul.

The monastic liturgy reflects this longing. The chant is haunting, yearning, and solemn. A mainstay for this season is the Rorate Caeli. If you have never heard this chant, I encourage you to listen to it in this Youtube clip.



The spirit of Advent reminds the monastic that this is why she left all she held dear and entered a monastery. In a way, she has entered the desert of John the Baptist, one void of many earthly pleasures such as marriage, family, wealth and fame. She had done so because she wants to better prepare her heart and soul for one Divine. She lives in readiness and expectancy. This is her life. It is what makes her different from other lovers of the Divine.

Advent: a time of preparation

This afternoon, Advent will begin with First Vespers. The whole liturgical tone will change and an attitude of preparation will permeate the season. In monasteries, Advent is a time to seriously prepare the soul for a greater awareness of God by fasting, prayer and penance. Make straight a pathway to our God we read in John 1:23. How do we make our pathway straight?

Peter John Cameron writes At a certain point in life, the profound desires and cravings of our heart reach a point of eruption in us. Yet, at the same time comes the awareness that we cannot bring about what we want--we do not have inside us what is needed to fulfill and satisfy our longings. And so with our infinite yearnings we turn to the Infinite and cry, "Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down."

Cameron is explaining how we make our path straight, through a greater awareness of our need for the Divine Being. Advent is a season that reflects on our need for the Infinite to dwell within, to satisfy the human heart, to fulfill our longings. Advent is a protection against consumerism, which would have us believe that Christmas is all about giving gifts. Christmas is about receiving Divinity, and our ability to receive is comparable to our preparation.

In monasteries, Advent always begins with a personal resolution. I continue this practice, and this year I resolve  to spend more quiet time in reflection, so that I can deepen my relationship with the One who can fulfill all my longings. I will do this so that I remember the spiritual and not be caught up with the material. For me, it will be a way to preserve my monastic heritage and not loose my monastic roots. For me, it will be a reminder that the Infinite wants to dwell within me if I give room.

What will it be for you?

A Time to give thanks

Thanksgiving Day, a time to give thanks.

As we give thanks for what we see as blessings, let us not forget those things that helped us grow and mature. Perhaps they were painful times. But they are blessings none the less.

This is the concept given to us in Romans: For those who love God, all things work together for good (Romans 8:28). Blessings come in many guises, including those we do not like.

This Thanksgiving Day, I want to be grateful for all the gifts I have been given, even those I wish I had not gotten. Because it all can work together for good, if I just give it a chance.

A Thanksgiving Day Prayer

A Thanksgiving Day prayer:

For the love of brothers and sisters, a love that feeds my soul, I say thanks.

For the blessing of true friends, who support, encourage, and mirror my own spirit, I give thanks.

For parents who, despite faults and failings, brought me into this world, I thank you O God.

For the gifts that make me unique, and for the opportunity to exercise these gifts, I am grateful.

For a country that allows me to speak my mind, to pursue my dreams, and to choose my career, I say thank you.

For spiritual blessings that make me appreciate my earthly possessions without depending on them, I give thanks.

For the gifts of mind and soul, that help me see my blessings, share my blessings, and proclaim God's goodness, I offer praise.

For you O God are Divine, above all creatures, yet content to live within each soul. You are the reason I give thanks, for you are the source of all blessings. To you be praise, honor, and glory. Forever.

And thanks for the turkey.

Amen

A reason to be thankful

Thanksgiving day is almost here! As I list my reasons for gratitude, I do not want to forget those most important in my life. A recent scene brought this to mind.

I was setting up for the service one Sunday when a young man in uniform came in to review his readings. He had just returned home from duty, and was flanked by his dad and two younger brothers. As I watched the boys in the sacristy, I was deeply touched by the youngest brother. As his military brother stood against the counter reviewing the readings, the younger brother went over to stand next to him. He stayed there, his body very close to his older brother, content to be near. Then he reached up to place his arms around his brother's shoulders, and held it there for several seconds. As he did so, he looked up at  his brother, his face literally radiant and happy. The gesture, so spontaneous, so natural, filled with emotion, moved me deeply. I could not help but think, how wonderful for brothers to be so close.

The memory of that incident stays with me this week as I prepare for Thanksgiving. It makes me want to be sure to include every single loved ones in my prayer of gratitude. Too often I take them for granted.


Let us count all of our blessings this Thanksgiving. Let our gratitude not forget those we may sometimes take for granted. Let our prayer of thanksgiving be a hug that spans distances, and sends warmth and appreciation over the miles. Let us build a loving family.

God breaks rules

I'd like to offer just a short thought today, from Richard Rohr's book, The Naked Now

"Good theology always protects God's total freedom, and does not demand that God follow our rules. Jesus does this explicitly in John's Gospel several times: 'The spirit blows where it wills. You can hear and see it by its effects, but you do not now where it comes from or where it goes" (3:8).

For some reason, we forget that every time God forgives or shows mercy, God is breaking God's own rules, being inconsistent and rather non-dualistic. Once you have known grace, your tit-for-tat universe is forever undone: God is everywhere and always and scandalously found even in the failure of sin. In fact, there is no place left where God cannot be found" (pg 77-78).

Our task is to find God. To let go of the small stuff. To take on the mind and heart of God by letting go of the tit-for-tat in favor of grace.

That is the true kingdom of God on this earth. That is finding the spirit wherever it blows.

When all things conspire to increase longing

Tranquility has to come from beneath the surface.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal! wrote Longfellow is his poem, A Psalm of Life. We all know that, but sometimes we do let life get us down.  We all have times when we are dissatisfied with how things are, and seek for something different, something better. It is possible for dissatisfaction to imprison our spirits and deflate our dreams.

Bernard Bro's book Happy Those Who Believe, directly addresses this situation:

Consider Zacchaeus, who struggled against the prison of his conscious; Mary Magdalene and the Samaritan woman, who struggled against the prison of their heart...All sensed a call. They were in a state of dissatisfaction...we would never have dared to imagine these preparatory cries of the Old Testament when God said to Daniel: "I came to you because you were a man of desire." And in Jeremiah: "I will put them in anguish so that they may find me."  

I think the key here may be desire. Life can weigh down on us, it can threaten to crush us, it can take away the sparkle we once had in believing all things are possible. As we mature, we sometimes begin to think that past dreams were childish, and we put them aside. We begin to accept fate as inevitable, and life as a series of unavoidable events. It is as though we our journey in life got a flat tire, and we became content to drive through life on the rim. But we shouldn't.

That is why it is important to dig deeper, to find the meaning hidden in the event, be it pleasant or otherwise. If I live a deeper spiritual life, I will find the gift hidden in circumstance, I will not become a fatalist. Instead, I will see the lesson I am meant to learn, and in that very lesson, I will find God.

Part of believing is remembering that I am called. I have a mission, and despite all the chaos, I will discover it. So I must never settle for that flat tire. I must change it and move on. I can believe so as to show the world that all things can conspire to increase longing, that my dissatisfaction itself signals there is more to be had, and I will have it. Then dissatisfaction will work in my favor; and I will find, even in the midst of chaos, something of my dreams.

Finding spiritual vision

Sight, in spirituality, consist of the ability to see beyond "the veil" of temporality. Unlike normal eyesight, spiritual sight needs to be cultivated. It is this cultivation we term "seeking perfection." In the spiritual journey, we are not seeking some sort of state that defies human existence; rather, we are attempting to live in an awareness of the spirit that moves both within and around us.

In his book The Naked Now, Richard Rohr writers You can be ignorant of your birthright. You can neglect the gift, and thus not enjoy its wonderful fruits....That seems to be the case with many people...who do not know who they are and whose they are, people who have no connection to their inherent dignity and importance.

I think the striking words here are dignity and importance.  We don't even know ourselves if we remain in spiritual blindness. We don't know our own dignity and importance, we don't realize the power of God within us, we don't sense the all abiding presence there for the taking, a presence that would help us make sense of our lives.

To find light is to take time with that which is spiritual; to sit with silence and let it wrap its arms around you, to hear the inspirations of God in the stillness and darkness of your own soul. When you see, you do not so much begin to imagine spiritual realities as to make sense of the burdens in life. You began to look beyond the events and believe in destiny. You pierce the veil and know you are never alone. You realize that the temporal is not the abiding reality; there is a spiritual dimension to give it direction, meaning and purpose.

A heart crying out

Take time to sit and be still.

Think long about your prayer.

Search to find the treasure hidden in the field of your heart.

Know that it is not what you know but how you live that is important.

Be joyful in what is good, and thankful for blessings.

Be the faith you profess.

Know that when you do, you make your life fully alive.

Running with my heart, and trusting my instincts

I love the psalm that tells us to sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done wondrous deeds (98:1). I love it because I love to sing. But as I sit here with this psalm before me, I wonder what it is telling me when it says I should sing a new song. 

Why does the song have to be new? Why not sing a familiar song, or a favorite one? Perhaps the message is that when we sing to the Lord, the song needs to come from my  heart, to be my expression of my sentiments.

I remember when I worked on my undergrad thesis. The chair of the department had his own views on who I should write about and what I should write. I did not feel comfortable with that agenda. So I switched advisors. My new advisor told me to run with my heart, and trust my instincts. That brought me into a new level of exploration and confidence. Trusting my instincts, I found the new.

I think that is what psalm 98 is telling us. There are many songs out there for us to sing. But when I sing to the Lord and run with my own heart, I come to a new level with the Lord. The song is no longer a general hymn of praise, but reflects something I have found within my own heart. I am empowered, because I have made the song my own. I have found the new.

Sitting or shouting?

Do you think in terms of Sirach 34:16, The Lord is a shelter from the heat, a shade from the noonday sun, a guard against stumbling, a help against falling. I have always wondered about individuals for whom life goes forward without a hitch. People who can quote this verse because for them, the Lord has always sheltered them from harm, guarded them from stumbling, and kept them from falling.

I think most of us identify better with the blind man in Luke 18:35-43, who sat along side of the road not even able to watch life pass him by.  When he heard a commotion one sunny afternoon, he asked what was going on and was told Jesus was there. Hearing this, he sprang into action, calling out, "Son of David, have pity on me!" Those around him tried to shut him up. I suppose they were the ones for whom life had been straightforward, who had never needed to cry out, for whom the Lord was a shelter, a shade, a guard and help. But he would not keep quiet. And his reward was healing.

Come to think of it, I am not sure if there really are people for whom life is easy. I wonder if instead, there are those who cry out when they feel the need for help, and those who prefer to sit quietly by, not willing to appear vulnerable. For crying out does imply being needy, and that can be hard to admit. Yet, everything we read in scripture, both old and new, says that God listens when we cry out: my plans for you are peace and not disaster; when you call to me, I will listen to you (Jer. 29:14). Perhaps our destiny in life is not revealed until we cry out. Perhaps healing comes only with a willingness to be vulnerable.

A real image of one Divine

The parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), when each person is giving a sum of money, and the lord of the house goes off on a journey. When the lord returns, he asks each of the persons with money to return it. The first two have invested, and so return it with interest. The third has buried it to keep it safe, and returns only that.

I've often wondered what hidden meaning I should get from this parable. I've heard many sermons that focus on the investing part, and that God expects us to make good use of our gifts, and will only give us more if we have prospered. A God who is watching and counting. But this weekend was the first time I heard a sermon that explained the parable in a way that spoke to my heart.

"God is less concerned about our mistakes than we are," the priest said. He explained the parable as a story about a willingness to take risks. Anyone who invests knows exactly what he is talking about.

The first two people spoken of in Matthew's parable were willing to risk. The story isn't that their investment produced more, but that they took a chance. They dared to try. The third person in the story would not. He was afraid of making a mistake.

As I think about it, I find that I have, in my past, feared too much to make mistakes. I saw God as one who keeps score, who wants us to choose wisely and rightly, one easily disappointed. Yes, my God was one who watched and counted.


But that is not the real God; that is only my own inner fear of God. As I've taken chances, made mistakes, gone forward, I've come to a better understanding. Mistakes do not keep me from going forward in my spiritual life; fear to make them does.

I often find myself thinking of the words of Paul in Cor. 2:2, that it has not even entered into our hearts what God has prepared for those who love him. I think of the qualities that make a good friend someone I want to be with. And I remind myself, God is that and more.  No good friend watches and counts your mistakes. A good friend is someone who believes in you more than you do in yourself.

That is my God. And that is the why mistakes mean little to the one who is Divine. Effort, intention, and attempts, these are the things that matter.

Learning the secret

One of the most interesting lines in scripture are the words of Jesus disciples, "Lord, teach us how to pray." They had the whole Jewish cycle of prayer, they had the law, they had the customs of their day; they had the Sabbath day prayer, the Feasts, the Vigils. And yet, when they saw Jesus pray, it was different, he was different, and they wanted to know why.

Andre Louf gives us a clue into Jesus' secret when he tells us that prayer has to be attended to little by little. Louf maintains that when we do this, we gradually rid our hearts of its surrounding dross; to listen to it where it is already at prayer; to yield ourselves to that prayer until the Spirit's prayer becomes our own.

Louf  is telling us that Jesus' secret in prayer comes from melding our prayer with the Spirit's prayer until we are one. It happens, it just takes time and patience. As Louf goes on to say, if we stay with prayer, it will engender light, and through that light, our lives will change. Prayer is the power that uncaps the inner spring residing deep in our hearts. Once that spring burst forth, life changes, I change, my prayer changes.

Perhaps Simon Tugwell's words on prayer tell it best: It is not the immediate feeling that is important; that may or may not come. What matters is that we should be, slowly and quietly, molded by this rehearsal for and anticipation of the worship of heaven. It is a schooling for paradise.

Wisdom sings her own praises

Wisdom. The power to know deep down what is most important. We read from the Book of Wisdom: In Wisdom is a spirit intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, agile, clear, unstained, certain...loving the good, keen, unhampered, beneficent, kindly, firm, secure, tranquil, all-powerful, all-seeing...For Wisdom...is an aura of the might of God and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty, therefore nothing that is sullied enters into her. For she is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness.

We do not hear much about wisdom. Instead, other qualities are sought, like studiousness, success, and leadership. And what exactly is wisdom anyway? According the the reading above, it is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness.

For wisdom to benefit anyone, it must first benefit me. How easy it is to bring God to others, to mirror the image of goodness in ways others can identify with, and yet feel empty inside myself. How strange that I can be a vessel of God to another, while still searching for that Divine Being. How unique that I can give someone an answer in my simple speech, while I do not know answers for myself.

This is simply how God works. Wisdom begins and grows through a life lived above the superficial cares of life. I can be wise for others. The real challenge is, can I be wise for myself?

Finding the secret

Temple of God

The temple of God is not made of stones, but of human hearts.

Ezekiel 47: 8-9 describes a trickle of water flowing out of the temple of God and becoming a veritable river, giving life to every sort of living creature that can multiply. The reading goes on to say:

Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow; their leaves shall not fade, nor their fruit fail. Every month they shall bear fresh fruit for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary. Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine (12).

When we tie this into Paul's letter to the Corinthians 3:16, which says Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? we can see that we are that temple from which the river flows. We are the ones who can give life and even healing, if we are conscious of our destiny. When we live within that temple, aware of the presence of Divinity, life can go out from within us as well. It is an awesome concept, a wondrous dignity, and an immense responsibility.

As Paul says, For the temple of God, which you are, is holy (Cor 3:17).

A true friend

"It's nice to see how your family has changed," I told someone recently. "The boys are so grown up and respectful, your husband is now taking on new responsibilities, and you are more at peace."

We tend to look for people who are where we are or who accept us as we are. And many times we expect to stay that way. But if we are sincere about our progress, our journey, our mission in life, than we should expect something different. We should expect challenge. And most challenges change us.

Funny how we accept that in nature, growth as a sign of health and life. No one complains when the seed they planted becomes a flower, or when the seeded lawn becomes grass. And all of that happens because of sun and rain.

Our spiritual life needs the same, and we find it in a good friend or companion. I should expect a true friend, one who is healthy for me, to be the one whose honesty and trust enable me to accept challenges. A good friend will have the courage to criticize me as well, as a way to urge me forward. I will accept constructive criticism because I, too, will express honest opinions. Such a relationship helps nurture the strongest roots.

If you look at your life and fail to see it changing, then it might be time to re-evaluate your relationships. It might be time to see if they harbor true life or superficial pleasantries.

Surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses

'Justice' and 'truth' are abstract words says Peter John Cameron. When we remember the upright, just and truthful people of our...own acquaintance, the words acquire faces.

I like that thought. I like that we can know what goodness is by knowing someone who is good. We can know what generosity is through someone who is generous. And we can know more about God through someone who is God-like. That was the power of Mother Theresa or Gandhi. That is the inspiration available to us in this vale of tears.

I believe this is the way of wisdom spoken of in Proverbs 4:11: On the way of wisdom I direct you, I lead you on straightforward paths. Individuals who are steadfast in the practice of what they believe image that straightforward path. It is for us to see and be inspired. As Simon Tugwell says, we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and so can undertake to run our course with endurance and without losing heart.

Take the time to see. It is all around us. Be enlightened and inspired.