Holy Week - Repentance

Holy Thursday, a day of remembrances. It is the beginning of the Triduum, the start of the holy days. it is during lent that we think of repentance. But what does it really mean to repent?

I read recently from St John Climacus that "To define repentance as the awareness of individual guilt is to risk emptying it of meaning (Sermons, ed. Constantinople, p. 118). I take that as an admission that we are short sighted when it comes to scripture, to understanding the message of Jesus, and our interpretation to the meaning of Jesus' words.

I have been on this journey a long time. I used to see repentance as "the awareness of individual guilt." I grown to believe differently, that true repentance is more about the acknowledge of truth, about myself, about my actions, and about my intentions. It is the willingness to admit my mistakes, in the hope that I will make better choices moving forward.

Jesus is quoted saying to Pilate, "Everyone who seeks the truth hears my voice." (Jn 18:27). After years of personal journeying towards truth, of questioning rules and customs and ceremonies and discarding the crass and human elements, of seeking and being confused, I believe that 'repentance' happens when I question what I am told, dig deeper for proof of truth, knowing that authenticity can bear examination.

For how else can I know what is false, what is wrong, what I need to change. To be told these things is to remain superficial about it. For it to be honest, I need to be the one working.

True, this takes discipline, so that I learn first how to submit before I challenge, and it requires humility that keeps me from thinking may way is the only way. But it also takes practice to hear the small voice of God in my heart, and great courage to be willing to be different.

I pray that this may be your repentance this Holy Week.

Tragedy Strikes Twice

Tragedy is hard to handle. When I saw my sister, Suzie, deal with the death of her 21 year old son in 2000, I thought I saw pain that knew no bounds. That was 8 years ago. She is still grieving.

Then, early one morning in April, I got a call from Suzie.

"Amy, I just got a phone call. Rachael was in a terrible accident. I need to fly down to Florida. Can you help me get tickets? I can't think."

My own mind was spinning. What? Her only daughter in a bad accident? But she already lost a son! How could this be?

"Yes," I told her. "I will get you a plane ticket. Would you like me to get a car for you too? And do you want a hotel?"

"Whatever. I guess I'll need a car to get around. I don't know. I need to pack. Just get the ticket."

I looked up tickets, trying to find something not too expensive. My sister works hard, but since her separation, she has lived with a lot less. She budgets all of her expenses to keep on top of them. This definitely would not be a budgeted expense. I finally found something for that afternoon, late. I called her.

A friend drove her to the airport so she would not have to leave her own car there. Then I waited.

O God, please spare Suzie. She already lost a son. She has endured so much with life...brain surgery, breakup of her family, loss of so much. Please, don't take her daughter....please! I prayed very hard.

A few hours later, while she was on layover in Philly, she called.

"I just learned that she is stable," she said. I sighed a sigh of relief. I had prayed for life. Now that I knew she was alive, I wondered, in what condition? Did she have a brain injury? Was she paralyzed? Was she on life support, just waiting until someone gave the ok for it to be removed? I still agonized.

That evening, Suzie sent me a text. "She has immense internal injuries and many broken bones. But no head or spine trauma."

And so began a very long journey back. For two weeks, Rachael was kept sedated because of intense injuries to internal organs which required them to keep her open so they could keep an eye on it.

When she finally began to heal, and they sewed her up, she still had surgeries for broken arm, hand, leg and pelvis. That took another two weeks.

She is now moved to a rehab hospital, where she does rehab 3 times a day. She cannot walk at this time, or sit, or manage on her own. My sister is determined to stay with her daughter until she is well.

As you can imagine, the expense of living in another state has taken a toll on my sister's limited budget. And though I hate asking for money, I have started a Fund to help her. 

If you are moved by this story and would like to contribute, please do so at the PayPal button below. Or contact me and I will send you my address and you can send a check.

I also ask that you share this with your family and friends. The fund raising has been hard. I would appreciate having the word spread.

I pray that you never have to deal with losing a child. I pray that you never know what it is like to almost lose a second child. Thank you.

You can contribute here:

paypal.me/SuzieHimesFund

Dispelling the Shadow

Our age has sought to bring equality to the fore as no age before it. We have sought out shadows and fought to bring light. We have set up models, glorified leaders, and proclaimed our heroes.

One shadow still remains; the shadow that covers every human soul and is in need of healing: the shadow of woundedness.

Woundedness doesn’t speak to glory, but rather to struggle. Yet, in all the ways that we are similar, nothing unites us more than that fact that each of us has been wounded.

But what are those wounds? For some of us, it is hurtful events in life, betrayals of those who should have loved us, forgetfulness of those who call themselves our friends. Unimaginable losses.

Those wounds are more able to heal than the ones we forget. We read  in Sirach 24:21 of those wounds, as it says You who eat of me will hunger still, you who drink of me will thirst for me. It is as if we are being told that no matter what we accomplish, we will still have needs, we will still have emptiness, we will still want. And in our attempts to satisfy those wants, we often compromise. We often settle for the lesser satisfaction rather than find the deeper fulfillment. I believe it is this compromise that makes up most of our woundedness.

Only when we remember our woundedness can we truly stand together. Because when I remember this wound within myself, caused by my own decisions, can I have the understanding and compassion that accepts another's wounds. Only then does tolerance turn into empathy and acceptance of another. Only when I am aware of my own fragility will I allow another to have theirs.

Learning a new identity

From my journal:

"Today is Wednesday the 6^th of May 2015

I’m driving home. And I am playing the Shenandoah music. And, as I listen to the Shenandoah music, I was thinking of Marti and my visit last week in the Shenandoah Valley, and how much fun we had. And then I thought of the comments she made to me. She asked me if I had gone to a different monastery maybe I would have stayed and I said, “No, I think if I had gone to different monastery, when I said I don’t think I could live this life they would have respected that and let me leave." 

And then later on when we were hiking, she started to say something about “we nuns” and then she said, “Well, you are not a nun, I am.” And when she said that it kinda caught me off guard. And, I had to stop and think, well, that’s part of my problem, I forget I’m not a nun anymore. Because when you’ve been a nun that long, it’s hard not to identify with certain aspects of being a nun, like dedication, and love for God, and consecration. I don’t know what else.

So when we were in D.C. and the Dominican House of Studies was across the road, I was going to go over to see it. And then I reminded myself that I am not a Dominican any more. It’s not my family any more. Yea, I was part of it for a long, long time. It really isn’t my family anymore. I don’t have to keep clinging to these concepts and ideas, and identity. It is very hard to let the identity, the consecrated soul, the monastic, go.

And I also thought about the fact that for me, I feel like I am still consecrated. And I know I am. I am still consecrated. I’m still dedicated. I’m still living for God alone. For those who are still in religious life, I’m gone. I’m no longer one of them. And that’s another aspect of life I’ve got to get used to and I’ve got to accept and I’ve got to realize this truth. I’m not one of them anymore.

If they want to feel that I’m outside of their unique little “club” as you might call it, that’s okay. Because I’m not part of the unique little club. 

I have stepped forth to the broader ways of life. And though I lived that way for a long, long time, 30 years is not a small amount of time, I need to find a way to accept who I am now. My new identity….

For Love of a Song

It was just a tune. But as the notes played out of my car stereo, my mind caught them and memories were triggered.

I found myself standing on the monastic gravel road behind the community work room. The summer sun felt warm on my skin as the grass stood tall and dry along the side of the road. The pine tress filled the air with their scent. I lifted my eyes heaven ward and saw the deep blue sky holding its white, puffy, clouds gently so they could drift lazily across the vast horizon. I could see across the valley to the ridge on the other side, a valley filled with pine trees.

The monastery sound system was in the midst of playing a select array of pieces, one particularly moving to my heart and soul. It blared far and wide across the valley. It was recreation period, the time we could talk and share. I had decided to go outside and take a walk on the monastery grounds. Nature most healed my soul, and the music reminded me of my purpose being here. That reminder afforded me the strength I needed to live this most challenging and rewarding life. 

It was this music that kept me so long in a life I was not well suited for. My struggles were daily for almost 30 years. But each time we intoned a hymn, chanted the psalms, or played music, I would find heart and decide I could live this demanding life. More, I decided that without the life, I would not have the liturgical flavor to my life, and my life would be less.

This love for the rhythm of life kept me longer than it should have. When I finally made the decision to leave, I grieved many a day for the loss of the rhythm, the inspiration it offered, and the atmosphere it created.

So as I sit here today in my car, listening to the same powerful hymn coming unexpected from my stereo, my spirit joins that spirit from my past. Powerful emotions rock my soul, and it is hard to pull back to reality.

I grieve.

Yet, I recognize that I have accomplished much in the 15 years since I chose to move through an open door that led to many new blessings and accomplishments. I was truly blessed by God as one door after another opened in what can only be called the sign of God's blessings on my decision.

And still, there are times I yearn for those past monastic experiences, as if the memory selectively forgets the pain and only remembers the good.

It is good to remember the good. It is important to remember the whole picture.

I know how hard it is to move on from a place you love, but is also destructive for you.

I struggled to move on. And I have. Everything has been improved, beyond my ability to explain. I would not change my choice one second. I am double blessed by God.

And yet, there are moments when I still grieve.

A Wake Up Call

We all have our fantasies. It helps to have something or someone bring us back to reality.

I find this in psalm 34.  It reads

The Lord confronts the evildoers, 
to destroy remembrance of them from the earth.
When the just cry out, the Lord hears them,
and from all their distress he rescues them.

That is the kind of God I've wanted. I want a God who confronts those who do evil, and destroys their remembrance from the face of the earth.

But in my experience, God does not do that. At least, not that often. Not as often as I would like.

And so, further along that same psalm, we read:

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted;
and those who are crushed in spirit he saves.
Many are the troubles of the just person,
but out of them all the Lord delivers.

It's as if we are shown our fantasies, and then the reality of life.

That reality is not easy to accept. We will be broken. We will be in distress. None of us wants that.

When I serve individuals with struggles, I tell them in that first session that I cannot remove all of their struggles. I can only offer them tools so they can handle it better. I can walk with them as they process injurious incidents and heal.

I can see that God promises me the same. God does not give me my fantasies. God will not protect me from all the injurious incidents in life. God only promises to be close to me when I am brokenhearted or crushed in spirit.

That's why it is important to support one another. We have each experienced some form of pain and disappointment. It can be from partners, children, or friends. Life happens.

And when it does, it helps to have someone close who empathizes. It helps to have a friend who listens. Because such a person can help us heal and not be destroyed.

True change comes from within

Photo taken by Jerry Gracey

The Kingdom of Heaven is Within you, says Luke 17:21. I think of this as I see the turmoil surrounding our present candidates seeking election and the blatant disrespect going on around both campaigns. I wonder what has happened to us as a country.

As a mental health professional, I am troubled at what I see unfolding before us.

I think of the words of Luke, to look within. When I do, I am reminded of the things I really value, like honesty, courage, and dignity.

These values makes me look towards true leaders, those who have shown me by example more than by words or promises. Those individuals lived their values, not needing words or speeches to tell me what they stood for. When those individuals did speak, I trusted them, because I could see their words came from reflection, not from a desire for power or fame.

The most powerful words ever given to me came from such a seeker and believer who quoted the words from John 8:32 Seek the truth and the truth will set you free.

As I reflect, I remember how these words changed my life.

Before that time, I followed what others told me was true. I accepted other's reflection on my conduct or my destiny. I trusted because I was told that was the right thing to do, to let others who had the authority, the experience, the leadership, lead me to the place where I was suppose to be because they knew better.

But they were wrong. They did not lead me to a good place. I realize now that I was being led out of my inner Kingdom of God, taught to distrust the voice within my soul. Such advice left me wounded and struggling. It made me dependent on others. It kept me from inner growth and insight.

The words to seek the truth and the truth will set you free came from an individual who refused to make choices for me. A leader herself, she taught me to hear and trust the voice within. To do that, I had to return to that empty spot where that kingdom of God needed growing. I had to learn how to discern what was the voice of God and what was the voice of fear. I had to believe that making a mistake is not the worst thing you can do in life. Failing to act because you fear making a mistake is.

Such leadership empowered me. The scared little self grew, and I began going inward for God more and more. I learned to speak less and listen more. I learned to recognize the voice of God within.

Seek the truth and the truth will set you free.

 If this political climate is foggy, maybe we need to turn inward more.

Maybe we need to grow that Kingdom of God within. Without words. By listening.