Acceptance of what is

Wholesome. It is an invitation to gather all things together. The dictionary defines it as comprising the full quantity, amount, extent, number, etc., without diminution or exception; entire, full, or total.  It connotes healthy, nutritious, organic, balanced. It should also be a key word for each of us in our search for an authentic spiritual life.

Whole makes us think of oneness, of all the parts meshing together naturally. It also makes us think that all is above reproach, nothing damaged, nothing tainted. Yet in the spiritual life, that would be false. For there is not one person alive who could claim perfection. And in spirituality, wholeness does not translate into perfect. It translates into acceptance of what is.

None of us comes of age without a certain amount of baggage. We can spend a great deal of our lives working to deny it or cover it. But that too lacks the "wholeness" vision.

What we forget is that "perfection" is a myth, not a reality. Our woundedness does not damage or destroy our wholeness, only our lack of acceptance and willingness to work with it. We sense immediately when someone presents herself to us as perfect, that it is only a sham, that the truth is not being told, that life is being presented very superficially.

Authenticity requires that we accept our woundedness. Who is more beautiful than the soul that lets her authenticity shines through her words and actions, without guile or pretense? And spiritual wholeness requires we accept all facets of ourselves, the pleasant and the unpleasant. Only then can we be "whole".

Be whole. Accept your whole person. Then you can be truly free.

A different way to Read--Lectio Divina

There is in the monastic culture an age old practice called Lectio Divina. Though often considered particular to monastics, Lectio Divina or simply Lectio is beneficial to all who desire a deeper spiritual life. I would like to share a little about this monastic posture in the next few postings, to share with you how it is done, the fruits of a shared Lectio, and the benefits you will reap from practicing Lectio.

Lectio Divina translated literally from the Latin means simple divine reading. The name refers to the material normally used in this practice. From ancient times, the most preferred reading material was scripture. But the important part of Lectio is the way it is read, not simple as text, but as nourishment. You take a portion of scripture, you read through it thoughtfully, and then you stop and ponder. The important part is pondering, letting a verse or passage speak to your heart. And then discern what it means to you, at this time, in this place. In a way, Lectio is "chewing" on a passage, getting the most out of that line, staying with it until it speaks.

To reap benefit from this practice takes time. Most of us are familiar with scripture, perhaps even too much so. To delve into it with Lectio means to listen more with the heart than with the ear or mind. It means being in touch with the deeper message. It means in a way, getting to know your soul more deeply as it sits with and communicates with the very same spirit that wrote these verses. Such a practice ultimately deepens your spiritual life, planting your foot firmly in the spiritual world, giving you spiritual vision and insight.

Signs of God

The reading from Revelation today says a great sign appeared in the sky. Our lives are surrounded by signs, and the church uses signs as signals of grace. But how do we read signs, especially the everyday ones?

I've known people who like the extraordinary signs. They run to sights of alleged apparitions to see the wonders and miracles. I myself visited Lourdes, not so much to see signs, but to experience a place  renown for its miracles. It was beautiful, but it did not feed my soul as much as Lisieux.

I think that signs are sent by God to guide us along the way. The important thing is not looking for the signs...because that can lead us astray. The important thing is to look for God, and in our search, we will recognize those signs he sends to us directly.

The scribes and pharisees asked Jesus for a sign, and he told them none would be given. Looking for signs in a way is looking for answers. And God doesn't seem to like to give us answers. Rather, he prolongs the questions, as if we must understand the question before we can understand the answer.

One of the psalms says I lift up my eyes to the Lord, from whence shall come my help. Such sentiments should echo in our hearts. Signs and wonders belong to the unbeliever. Seeking God and his holiness belongs to the ardent soul searching for meaning. We all know in life that signs merely point a direction. If we haven't a destination, it will mean little.

The Spirit That Cannot be Defeated.

By Sr. Mary Grace Thul, OP

Bede Jarrett, OP writes: Faith is the basis of life, and charity is its crown; but hope is its greatest need. Most of the difficulties of life come because we are so prone to lose heart.

If losing heart is the opposite of hope, I agree whole heartedly with Jarrett. When difficulties or troubles abound, it is hope that acts like a life jacket and keeps us afloat. In our narcissistic and critical world, hope is all the more needed. The heartbeat of present day culture seems bent on its own destruction of spirit. The tendency to concentrate on what divides us is so strong that we forget what unites us. This is true not only in politics and race, but in religion as well.

Hope, though greatly enhanced by a working and faith-sharing community, really depends upon one person: myself. Recent scholarship suggests that some depression is actually a habitual state of mind that looks more to the dark side of life than to the light. To keep hope then is to keep one's face turned toward the light, and know that however dark the cloud that obscures it, the sun will break forth once more.

God's presence.

Somewhere in scripture Jesus says we are never alone. We used to think of this as God "watching" us always. No matter where we were or what we were doing, God was sitting up in heaven and could "see" us.

But I now think of such things differently. I think of God being within me, not so much watching, but just being. And no matter where I go, I am taking God along. Maybe he is sleeping like Jesus did in the boat. Maybe he is enjoying the view. Maybe he is trying to catch my attention.

Julian of Norwich spoke of God as the acorn. Catherine of Sienna saw him as a bridge. But, however your image, we do carry about a presence divine and wonderful and awesome.