I love Lent.I am always happy to hear that I am dust, and that to dust I shall return.When I close my eyes to pray, I can really tell I am dust. In here where I live, it’s quiet and dark. Simple. Nothing to it. Who am I?
Dust.
Clay.
Nothing.
Everything.
Inwardly quiet and dark,yet full of exploding light in the cave of my heart,just like you.
As St. John of the Cross points out, sometimes what seems like darkness is the over-whelming brilliance of God’s light.Maybe that is why we close our eyes when we pray. Outside what we can see with our senses is wonderful, but only a reflection of the invisible God. When we close our eyes, we are alone in God’s luminous dark within us.
We know there is light in us by faith. We know our being is created in the image of Him who is light. Even though we rightly experience ourselves as dust, our hearts are secretly bright because of Who lives there.
At this time of year, roots, bulbs, and seeds under the soil that have “fallen to the ground and died,” all winter have been nourished by the Lord of mystery and love, though we the farmers are unaware.
How did Jesus rise from the dead? We don’t know. We know it happened, and Scripture says we also will rise, “through the power of his spirit dwelling in us.” And this is so real it is a physical truth as well as a spiritual one.In the dark secret of the tomb Jesus physically and spiritually, in divine mystery, rose again.
I want to follow Jesus into the desert and recommit my life to the Father. I want to share the Passover with Him and the family of the Church, I want to accompany the Lord on the Way of the Cross. I want to wait quietly in the dark simplicity and trust of the grave.
I am dust returning to dust, but my Christian soul is empowered by Him to do and be all these Christly mysteries.
So let us return to be fearlessly this dust in desert wind, this Way of the Cross, this dark quiet of faith, this soil seeded with mystery.
At the same time as we traditionally renew our commitment to Jesus and his mission, to His Church, to the poor and marginalized, to fasting, penance, and to prayer as we know it, let us also re-consecrate ourselves in silence, and holy solitude, resting in the starry night of expectation.
As children of God we know that darkness also brings forth love, unfurls light, and floods our souls with renewed grace during this sacred time we are given that is Lent.We surrender to this Lord of mysterious rising. We consecrate our souls to His purposes in ourselves and what He wants us to bloom into for Him, for this world, for the sake of His Kingdom. We step into this night of Lent consciously.
We can remember this intention in our moments of stillness and waiting. We can take a little time each day also to purposely rest in quiet love and allow ourselves to be prepared for Spring in secret. Let us make Lent a secret retreat into our hearts. It only takes faith, hope, and love and God will pour over us the brightness of his invisible light.
Let this Lent be a time for seeds, for dark, shining mysteries at work in we who believe… until the morning star rises in our hearts.
Warning: God is a creative genius and anything can happen when we surrender to Him completely. We might emerge from Lent new creatures in the power of His Resurrection. Let’s expect it!
Photo by Jens Johnsson on Pexels.com
I asked Sister Celestina if enthusiasm for spirituality in young adult Catholics is the norm she experiences in her work at St. Mary’s Student Center.She says, “Yes! These kids have a great thirst!”That is why so many spiritual directors are needed at St. Mary’s. The three Sister Apostles of the Interior Life are here, three lay spiritual directors, several priests, deacons, as well as the priests and religious who come in and do spiritual direction every week, and at other times. “It is still not enough!”She explains to me, for those who don’t know, what spiritual direction is. Here she begins to speak passionately.
She tells me that the “Gospel icon, if you will,” of the charism of her order, The Apostles of the Interior Life, is the encounter of Jesus with the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus seeks her out, though she has gone to draw water at a time nobody would be expected to be there, as if she were avoiding others. But Jesus finds her. “She is shown her truth as a daughter, and she goes out to share with others.”
“Jesus is very determined and also tender. He comes very close to her wounds.” He shows our identity is not a sum total of our sins or wounds, but in our belonging to Him as children of God.
“Jesus comes close to [people’s] wounds in a very determined way, but not like a moralistic teacher. He is tender.”
To Sister Celestina, this describes the goal of spiritual direction and evangelization. “We bring people to encounter.God did not send down a book. He sent His Son- into relationship, and that is what we do.”
One must not “think of the other person as an empty container that you have to fill with truth, but as a brother or sister. So you take interest in their lives.Every human being you encounter thirsts for more because they are each made in the image of God. They thirst. There is a thirst in these students. I think it is important to allow the Holy Spirit to awaken their desires.” That is the approach she takes as a spiritual director.
For spiritual direction, “there are a lot of requests.” There is an intake form on the Aggie Catholic website and the requests for spiritual direction are coordinated by a campus ministry intern at the Student Center.
The goal of spiritual direction is for the directee to grow in holiness, she says. The real spiritual director is the Holy Spirit. She often tells her directees, “It is not just you and me, it is you and me and the Holy Spirit.
“The goal is to discover God’s will and inspirations, to learn how to listen, to discern what is coming from the Holy Spirit and what is not. Another goal is helping to remove obstacles to growth, learning to pray or growing in prayer. Guidance and support are needed “to know what to do with the consolations and desolations of the spiritual life.”
She says that it is very important to develop what she calls a “double channel of listening”. She tries to listen deeply to the person talking to her and to pay close attention to the Holy Spirit speaking in her heart at the same time. “If we are relaxed and open, and not too worried about what we need to respond, the Holy Spirit will help us see how we can help that person.” Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com
“Every topic is welcome,” she says, “because all of life must be penetrated by the Holy Spirit, and God is part of all that we do. ”
“The more open you are in spiritual direction the more fruitful it will be. When you are open, you are humble, but this is a freeing experience that you are loved as you are. The moment you bring things to the light, they are already being healed.”
I asked her if she works with non Catholics also. She said she can and she has. “I would need to be attentive and delicate, but still be transparent about who I am.” Her goal would be to “simply place them more and more under the influence of the Holy Spirit.”
She tells me about some of the other things the sisters do at St. Mary’s.They sponsor Samuel’s Group, a program about discernment. She calls discernment, “making decisions with God in the picture.”
By discernment she also means “the discernment of spirits.” This tradition of discernment of spirits goes back to the desert fathers. It is very important, she says, to “become aware of your interior movements, since God speaks to us in our thoughts and feelings and desires.” It is important to learn to distinguish the authentic inner voice that is the leading of God, from other influences inside us and outside us that can be misleading or harmful.
A spiritual director can help one learn and refine that skill of discernment.
“You come to recognize the movement of God through your soul like the vibration of guitar strings after they have been touched.”
“Jesus himself had to practice this discernment of spirits in the desert,” she points out. “Discernment of spirits is a fundamental teaching of the spiritual life.It isn’t just do it yourself. It is always with God; with God, and the people God places in our lives. Always, it is in the context of relationship,” that we listen for God.
“The work we do is relational.” She says.
The sisters open their house for what they call, “A night at the convent,” and also for a movie night a few times a semester, just to share their life with the students. They like to cook for the students. “Sharing food is such an important part of loving.”
They have had up to forty people in their living room, and they see new faces all the time, Catholics and non Catholics alike. They also hold Holy Hours at the convent, and these are always crowded.
“It’s a beautiful time in their life for formation,” she says, “because of the particular gifts of that age group; the enthusiasm, flexibility, the energy, the dreams, the ability to take risks, the capacity of jumping, leaping into new things.”
She says that what they do at St. Mary’s is facilitate encounter with Christ which forms disciples, and then disciples “automatically become Apostles, and they go out,” bringing with them the tender and determined love of Christ and the truth of their experience with His transforming love- “into the lunch line, into the class room, into the whole world.” Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com
*”We, the Apostles of the Interior Life… testify … that the interior life is the real and transforming source of joy for the world. We are a community of consecrated women… reaching out to men and women through evangelization and friendship with a family-like style and a spirit of initiative and of personal relationship that can foster spiritual generation and growth. We accomplish this mission specifically through spiritual direction and formation in the area of prayer. “~ from Recipes for the Interior Life by the Apostles of the Interior Life
We are sitting on cushions at a low table, enjoying shisha from a shared hookah in the corner of a light, airy building in a shopping center in Central Texas. There is country music on the radio, and a minty, fruity smoke rising around us in the late afternoon sun.
Frank, (or as I call him,”Frankly,”) is my first late husband’s oldest brother. Our families have remained close over the years. He and his wife, Karin, are visiting from their home in Oak Creek, Wisconsin (Milwaukee area.)
Today, I have set out to interview Frank about his experiences of inter-religious dialogue. I have been reflecting on Nostra Aetate, the Vatican II document on the relationship of the Catholic Church with non-Christian religions. It seems to me that our own Frank is a living example of what respectful friendship between the faiths could look like if taken seriously and personally, lived out in individual relationships and respectful, curious overtures, even shared prayer.
Frank agreed to talk about his journey, though his natural state is somewhat taciturn. It takes him a while to warm up sometimes… so I’ll wait.
Right now Frank is not sure what he thinks of this hookah business, a hobby that I and his son, Hans have taken up from time to time. He stares at the plastic sanitary tip of the hose we have handed him, unsure of what to do with it.
“?”
While he figures this hookah thing out, I will give you some details to confuse you about Frank. (I say confuse because some of the facts about him are not usually found together in one person.)
Introducing Francis K. Pauc, West Point graduate, Army veteran (helicopter pilot) peace activist, father of an Iraq war veteran (Hans, mentioned above.) He is also a volunteer at the local V.A. hospital, an avid defender of immigrants’ rights, friend of Dominican Sisters, assister of people in the Catholic Worker movement (which was founded by Dorothy Day), and writer of many letters to the editor on issues of import.
He has written a book, available on Amazon Kindle, and in paper back, called Father at War. He is a recently retired dock foreman of a shipping company, a devout cradle Catholic with a long and distinguished history of being active in his parish, St. Stephen’s. He has been twenty years a lector, a past RCIA teacher, and past parish council member, among other activities.
He is also the token Catholic at the Buddhist Sangha at Milwaukee Zen Center, frequent attender of the Orthodox Jewish synagogue in his area, and he now and then hangs out at the local mosque. He is a regular pray-er/visitor at the Sikh temple in his neighborhood.
Frank is the father of three adult children, long time husband to Karin, who he met and married while stationed in Germany as a young man.
He is of Slovenian heritage but is sometimes mistaken to be Turkish. Lately he has grown a long beard and looks very Orthodox Jewish. On that last long peace walk his beard became a bit dred-lock-ish.
I have known Frank since the late eighties when I started dating brother # 6 in the Pauc family of seven boys, Marc Blaze.
Frank is starting to be amused with the hookah experience. I can tell he is comfortable enough I can ask him questions now.
Fortunately, besides his big, German village wedding, his journey learning about other faiths is his favorite subject.
His habitually taciturn, crabby look becomes a warm, soft- eyed lucidity now as I begin to ask how all this started for him. When did he first learn about other religions, I ask, blowing out my delicious smoke.
Frank says his first real look at another religion was learning about Islam in the Army, since he had to learn Arabic. Then he took a refresher course in Arabic with someone from work, years later, at a Muslim culture center. He made more friends there. They didn’t necessarily talk about faith all of the time. They moved from learning Arabic to talking about their kids, their wives, their work, their daily lives.
After 9/11, Frank wanted to do something personal to cross the widening divide in our country between non-Muslim Americans and Muslim Americans. He ended up going by the mosque. He found the front locked so he went around back to the kitchen. “I thought you guys might need friends.”
“Are you Muslim?”
“No. I am a Catholic.”
Frank is the only person I know who would show up to an unfamiliar place of worship and ask, “Anybody want to talk about God?”
Frank observes that the prohibition on images in Muslim art has created a very masculine looking art form of geometric shapes and calligraphy, which is beautiful, but, to him, missing something. He thinks it’s a conception of the feminine side of the Divine that is absent. This gave him a new appreciation of our knowledge of the the Holy Spirit, the Giver of Life, “Creator Blessed,” and of our Mother Mary exemplifying and reflecting this to us. He thinks our ability to be spoken to by God through images is related to conscious contact with the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary through whom the Incarnation was accomplished. The Incarnation puts us in touch with how God communicates through what we can see and touch. It’s why, he theorizes, Catholic art is so glorious. It’s because we have Mary, and we are very in touch with that creative motherly energy and imagery.
He talks about how sad it is that so many Christians have lost their mother. Their art is not as cool as ours, either, he thinks. “There’s got to be a connection here.”
He really did love the Dome of the Rock, though when he went to the Holy Land. “That was awesome.”
But we digress. We smoke in silence a while… listening to the pleasant bubbling sound of the water in the hookah’s base.
Years ago, Frank says, he became curious about the Sikh Temple in his neighborhood. He smiles when he remembers his visits there. “You have to eat. They always feed you. You never leave without eating.”
He adds that the music is great. Like a cross between our best praise and worship, and the coolest Indian music ever. Frank likes to find someone and ask them questions like, “Do you think God loves you?” and go from there.
The Sikh Temple he liked to visit was the same one where there was a shooting in 2012 . Frank knew one of the people who was killed. He was among those who offered support. He still likes to drop by and pray.
Sometimes he meets interesting people of other religions in his work as a peace activist. He met a Buddhist monk named Senji on a long peace walk he went on to protest drone warfare. The next year, he, his wife Karin, and his son, Stefan, went to visit Senji in his monastery in Oregon. They had a great time, and found a lot in common, especially in the social justice work the monks engaged in, and their quiet, dedicated life. Photo by Wouter de Jong on Pexels.com
The desire for contemplative prayer was what got Frank to visit the Zen Center in the first place. He and Karin had tried to find a place to learn forms of Christian contemplative prayer and practice in a group and had not found one. (They have now.) So Frank and Karin went and sat with the Buddhists. Karin always took her rosary and prayed that. Frank started hanging around all the time and being part of the life of the Sangha, even though there are some things that as a Catholic he can’t do, of course.
He decided to learn more, and he loved hanging around. They appreciated his thoughts. When he thought something was stupid, he always said so, (he always does, regardless of the company,) and he also gave his thoughts as a Christian. They came to appreciate this. He liked sitting in silence with them.
Going to “Zen practice” regularly brought visible changes to Frank.
I remember seeing these changes in him. He became much more playful and open and calm. Less “‘onry.” I think he really did find peace. I could see it in his face and hear it in his speech. I could tell by his kinder attitude, and even the way he carried himself. He still can be found at the Milwaukee Zen Center on a Saturday morning if he’s not volunteering, or traveling somewhere.
He says getting to know his friends at the Zen Center helped him delve into his own faith and prayer traditions all the more.
“It’s made me a better Catholic.”
Learning to sit quietly in what was consciously a form of trusting, un-knowing prayer, for him, brought him nearer to God, and God blessed him with a sense of open-ness and peace. It seems the Lord continued to lead Frank on his unique travels through the spiritual world and to teach him that learning about how other people love and understand God is an act of love.
It is worth remembering that Thomas Merton, a great American Catholic admired by Pope Francis, also got to know Buddhism very well, made friends with Buddhist monks, and found ways to share silence and spiritual practice with them that enriched his own faith.
I asked him what lead him to choose to start showing up at the Orthodox synagogue, rather than Reformed. “Is it because of being Catholic and therefore more into deep, rooted, more ritualistic and mystical worship? ” He said no, that it was because that was the closest synagogue to his house. “What made you want to learn more about Judaism?” One of his more rare expressions crosses his face; an innocent, child like look. “Because I wanted to understand.”
He says he became very close with the Rabbi there and began to take Hebrew lessons. He was often invited to dinner at the Rabbi’s house, and even to Passover. He says he doesn’t think anyone can have the fullest appreciation for their Christianity if they don’t get to know Judaism. He said attending their liturgies changed him as a lector. He grew in his appreciation of the Scripture and reading the Old Testament at mass was a more profound experience for him after seeing the very solemn and reverent way it is read in the synagogue.
He remembers a funny conversation he had with the Rabbi who said, “Oh, you Christians, always forgetting Satan isn’t anything close to equal with God,” when Frank was worried about something.
He still likes going to the Synagogue regularly.
Frank remarks that Jesus was a good Jew, and that he thinks of Jesus as his older brother. I smile, remembering that is what John Paul II said about the Jewish people and the Church. They are our older brother.
I say that it strikes me that his inter-religious ministry and journey seems to be about making personal connections, about being a friend. He agrees with that, though he says he is less conscious of that than just wanting to understand others and share with them. He feels compelled about this.
He says he is most impressed by the people who are deeply and “completely sold” on their religion. He respects the most those who have “their faith woven into the fabric of their every day life. When it’s just who they are.” Those are the people it’s easiest to talk to, and who return the interest he gives to them about their faith.
At times he has wondered if he should stop hanging around Buddhists and the Orthodox Jews. They were quick to say they needed him around, and enjoyed what he had to say. They felt spiritually up lifted by their token Catholic.
At one time in his life, following a series of crises and being simultaneously very wounded by some in his own parish, he actually struggled about whether to remain Catholic or not. It was his friends at the Zen Center and the synagogue, who said, “Whatever you do, don’t leave the Catholic Church.” They cared more than anyone else, he said.
Now that he is newly retired, he can spend more time volunteering, working for peace, and walking into temples, synagogues and mosques asking about God and giving the gift of a listening heart to anyone willing to share their faith.
Frank seems to have been aptly named after the great St. Francis of Assisi, who said, “Preach he Gospel at all times. Use words when necessary.”
Frank and Karin are off to their next stop on their summer adventures; a Catholic Worker farm, then a Youth Hostel, a Benedictine guest house, and then on to Mt. Bly in Oregon to visit my off the grid daughter, Maire, and her little family.
I mention, as we get up to leave the cafe, that we’ve actually been talking Nostra Aetate over our shisha. Frank says, “Yeah. That pretty much rocks.”
Hookah: a waterpipe
Mu‘assel, or shisha tobacco: the molasses-based tobacco concoction smoked in a hookah; often comes in various flavors such as rose, lemon, mint, etc.
Hookah lounge, or shisha bar: an establishment where patrons share shisha
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness… wholesome, charitable views… cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner …”
~Mark Twain
This is true. However, one can travel without leaving town. Consider the borders of social and economic boundaries, roles we occupy that keep us from knowing one another, our self protective measures in the face of suffering. To brush aside convention and fear in favor of love and adventure; this is travel by heart. I don’t know about you, but without it, I tend to create my own world and risk losing sight of the Gospel.
The rule of this travel is: Anything that softens your heart is a good thing. Anything that hardens the heart should be avoided. Cultivate a receptive heart to be a well -rounded traveler. Learn to ignore what doesn’t matter to go places no one has ever been before.
Get to know a “Welfare Mom.”
Be friends with an “illegal” human being.
Hold someone who is dying.
Breath deeply of another’s world.
Sometimes I am still embarrassed, scared or don’t know what to say, but I have tried walking through the doors when I see them, making a pilgrimage to the holy shrine of human encounter.
Once, an elderly lady I was obediently and routinely spoon- feeding, smiled, picked up her spoon, and started feeding me! We looked at each other and laughed.
Moments like this happen all the time in life. What if you made a habit of paying attention to their opportunities every day? You would be a seasoned back packer through worlds unknown. Maybe you already are.
Sometimes you will not want to make the trip.
Tradition dictated I invite “all” my “friends, neighbors and family” to my house blessing. I thought, “Not the druggie guys next door.” But I did invite them. They looked great, all smiles, clean and dressed up, obviously totally honored to have been invited. That was humbling. Being humbled feels great.
Make the trip.
I met a young mom who had to scramble to find a house to clean or a lawn to mow to get dinner on the table for her kids at times when her meager supply of food stamps ran out. LeAnn became a good friend. I would have missed knowing a true poet, missed a beautiful friendship, if she and I had maintained the customary boundaries between “helper and helped.” She would have missed me too.
An elderly man I met during my CNA training enchanted me with his serene playfulness, his big blue eyes. We had fun together while I changed his sheets. “I’ve never met anyone like you before!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never met anybody like you either!” I said. “I think I want to marry you!” “I want to marry you too!” We didn’t get married. But we remain good friends years later. Jim is an extraordinary and inspiring person. To think I could have changed the sheets and walked out of his life!
The mother of one of my daughter’s friends, who is very ill, allowed me to do a few, small acts of service for her. Her courage, humor and kindness have inspired me. She has put a human face on the term, “Illegal immigrant,” for me. Coming to know her has taught me that only what God sees matters. Only His will, His law, which is always, love, matters at all.
Early in my care giving job, talking to my boss, Gretchen, suddenly it seemed I was seeing how lovely she is to God. It was magical, a holy moment, a total gift. Now I know by experience that she really is lovely, and, fortunately for me, she is a world class traveler! She saw past my brokenness, past the employer-employee relationship, to let me try even when it was scary for her to do. Her trust helped me grow.
A tendency to travel by heart can help you stay close to someone you love very much even when his journey becomes painful and frightening.
I held my husband, Bob, as he died. I went with him as far as I could until he was gone. All I or anyone else there felt was the overpowering presence of Love. As anyone who has done this can tell you, you can experience love and joy even when death comes, if you just let your heart be there. All that is left is love and you’re not scared anymore.
Habitual focus on what is human and real made me able to connect with my mom in new ways and walk with her through her dementia. It sounds crazy but we had a really good time. It was grace.
Love is its own wisdom, and God Himself IS love. Love covers all the territory. By love, you learn that the universe resides in each human heart, even your own, and that the journey never ends.
That is the kind of trip I love most, because of the peace, transformation, and joy it brings- a trip across borders God does not acknowledge, to that place where the last is first and the first is last and neither even thinks about it because only one thing matters.
So don’t be afraid to cross the borders. Explore, and love. The fence is imaginary and God is on the other side.
In silent open-ness to God, we set aside our own agendas and open ourselves to God’s agenda, which is always love, love, and more love. What could be better than that?
Lectio Divina (Holy Reading) is an ancient Christian way to pray the Scriptures. It involves reading a passage of the Bible, listening to God in silence, responding back to God in prayer, and then resting in silent prayer for a time.
To pray this couple’s method of Lectio Divina, you will need:
Some quiet, private time.
A comfortable place to sit.
A Bible
A note book and something to write with
A quiet timer
Your romantic partner
An open, receptive heart
Have a passage chosen ahead of time that you both agree on. We usually choose something from the mass readings of the day.
Passing the Bible back and forth to take turns reading, read the passage aloud, slowly and reflectively.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Of course you could each have your own Bible. But I like the reciprocation in the giving of the Bible to one another, and in taking turns; one listening, one reading.
As you hear the Scripture passage, listen for a word, phrase or sentence that stands out to you. (Don’t worry, one will.)
After the third time reading the passage through, write your word (s) into the note book you have between you.
The Benedictine monks, who most developed this prayer form, called this note book a “florilegium,” meaning, “book of flowers.” Writing your verse or phrase down will help you focus as you pray, and be fruitful for later perusal, discussion, or future prayer.
This word or passage that stands out as you hear the Word of God, is considered to be the Holy Spirit speaking to you.
He laughs.
“What?”
“It’s just that each of these verses fit each of us so well.”
She laughs, too.
“Yeah, God thinks he’s pretty clever.”
Step 2: Meditatio
You may want to set a timer for this section of the prayer. Try to make it a light, non- jarring sound. I have an app on my kindle with a nice Tibetan bell sound for this purpose.
As to the time duration, agree on it beforehand. Ten to twenty minutes should do it. But even five is OK if that is all the time you have.
This time will be silent. You may want to hold hands, or put your feet together, and close your eyes.
• Inwardly repeat your word or phrase with expectation. As you ponder it, apply it to your life and relationship with God. Let yourself be guided by the Holy Spirit, allowing Him to make clear His message to you.
When your mind wanders, gently bring it back to your word or phrase, placing yourself once more in God’s presence.
• Ask the Lord, “What are you saying to me in this word or phrase?”
Sometimes you will want to stop here and discuss, briefly, the fruit of your meditatio together.
Step 3 Oratio
After the timer goes off, take a moment or maybe a few moments to respond with a prayer back to God about what He has lead you to understand or given to you during meditatio.
You might wish to write your prayer response into the notebook and to pray it aloud with your partner.
This usually means to rest in God’s Heart in silence. I think when praying as a couple, it is good to rest also in one another’s hearts at the same time.
God is love,
and whoever lives in love,
lives in God,
and God in him.
(1John 4:16)
Again, set the timer, perhaps for 10-20 minutes as during the meditatio, and maybe hold hands, close your eyes, place yourselves in the presence of God, and rest lovingly there together.
If it is hard for you to do this, you might choose a prayer word like the Name of Jesus, Mary, or the word, “God,” “love” or “peace,” for your mind to hold onto like a walking stick as it travels in quiet over the next few minutes.
When the time is up, you may wish to pray aloud together the Our Father.
End with the sign of the cross and the kiss of peace.
*We have found that sometimes adjustments to this method must be made because of time, distance, kids, etc. It can be spread out over days, or sometimes reflections can be e-mailed or discussed in the car. Remember that God cannot be limited by the things we are limited by. He only wants us to be willing, and to try, and He will respond by working His wonders in us. However, I hope you can try praying in the above way sometimes. It is very rewarding and intimate; not to be missed.
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly… (Colossians 3:16a)
A good book I am reading* begins by saying that the legend of the long, winding history of the Indian Koohinoor diamond began when Krishna gave it to one of his disciples in response to his meditations. I tried to imagine Jesus giving me a diamond. “Have you ever given me a diamond, Jesus?”
“If so, what was this diamond,” I thought.
I know Jesus has given me everything, grace upon grace. But I was surprised when the first thing that crossed my mind was that he has given me the diamond of chastity, and it is of eternal value, and that it is my consolation now.
Not too long ago, I ran across a secular video about celibacy. It was odd to watch because I am used to hearing about celibacy in religious terms, and this video’s attitude seemed to be, “Hey, look, people actually do this, and on purpose!” There were about five people presented with their various reasons for being celibate permanently or temporarily. The last person featured was a religious sister, who gave an explanation about Jesus being her spouse, and so her love in service was his love, broad, deep and available.
I thought about my journeys as a wife and mother, then a widowed single mom, and the evolution of chastity’s meaning for me. We are all called to chastity according to our state in life. My state in life has changed in ways that have been confusing. What is my vocation now? I don’t think of myself as a single person, really. Being a widow is different. I am someone who lived and fulfilled marriage vows. However, I am alone. At the same time, I am much aware of a deep spiritual connection with my spouses, so in that way I am not alone. I am forever changed by marriage, in all the best ways, and I feel its beautiful seal on my soul.
After the death of my first husband, Marc, in a car accident at the age of twenty-eight, I didn’t understand what my life was- I lost that much of myself. I slept fitfully with the light on for years.
It felt imperative to me to understand my vocation, to understand what I was supposed to build on and be. I was still a mother. I still loved my husband. Just because he was dead, I did not stop feeling like his wife. I didn’t even consider dating. I had some very intense little girls to raise, and challenges that were hard to accept were mine.
Over the years my ideas about celibacy evolved as I moved from the chastity of a wife to the chastity of a widow. I was surprised to realize that I felt an expansiveness of love, of my womanhood, of my motherhood, as I developed in this new life I did not ask for, but slowly embraced. When I turned the light off at night, I felt enveloped in love and peace.
“Through the silent watches of the night, bless the Lord.” (Ps. 134:2b)
I wondered, during the quiet mutations happening in my soul, if this was how priests and religious felt- like they were half in love with everyone, like their hearts were available to people, and to God in a special way.
My marriages were beautiful and life giving. I was a very happy, totally in love, fulfilled wife, both times, in every way. My present choice of celibacy is not a repudiation of married love in the least.
One woman on the video I mentioned said that she had always felt “asexual.” I wondered if she used that word only because she didn’t have the language to describe herself as a sexual being who is celibate in expression. In this present culture it would be hard to find any such language in every day public discourse.
I have come to recognize sexuality as a spiritual energy, so to speak. It is like a power current and a connection, body and soul, to and through God. This was so when I was with each of my husbands, and it is so now. It is just directed differently. The proper direction of the spiritual energy of sexuality is what chastity is.
Eventually I felt very happy and whole in my new life. I missed (and still do miss) my husband every single day. But more and more I felt that he was with me and part of me. I loved him as much as I ever did. And it was OK.
My reasons for remaining celibate were changing. It wasn’t because I was broken in that area anymore, or that I still felt I needed to be faithful to Marc (though some of that has always remained.)
It was because I felt married to Jesus.
As my girls began to be interested in boys and have their teenaged heart breaks, I would tell them just to let Jesus be their boyfriend for a while. “He’s the best,” I would tell them.
I was so perfectly at peace with this idea, that God is the husband of the widow and the father of the orphan, that it was a very difficult adjustment for me when I felt I was being asked to consider loving Bob, ten years after Marc’s death. It took a lot of prayer, a few “burning bushes,” and a couple of little miracles to help me see that loving Bob was now my way. I came to understand that Christ and I were going to love Bob together. Slowly this began to make sense, and I was able to let that love happen.
I was very, very happy as Bob’s wife. I was more happy and unified with him than I can say. He said we were each other’s priests one time and I laughed because that is not so far from the Catholic idea of marriage. Truly, we formed Christ in one another and experienced Him living in our relationship. In an ineffable way, though changed, it seems to me that we still experience that.
Now the diamond of chastity is given to me again in different setting, with a new cut. I didn’t think this would happen again. But I cherish this beautiful gift. It is powerful and affirming.
Truly, it is a wonderful consolation. I am still growing to understand it and let it be a fullness in my life. Widowhood is to live with a bottomless loss. But it is also a very special kind of love, and celibate chastity can be one of its expressions. It is less an expression of emptiness, in time, than a different kind of wholeness. This love, this diamond, is the gift left to me.
I heard that a wife said to her dying husband, “I love you so much, what will I do without you?” He said, “Take the love you have for me and spread it around.” That is beautiful and I identify with it deeply, especially since that is something Bob would have said for sure. I think I have started to do this again now, and I recognize it as a sign of life. As Bob and I loved each other, and that love went out to others, this is what is happening in the relationship I am developing with God, in my life as a widow.
As a daughter of the Church, I have the richness of Carmelite spirituality to draw on, and other Catholic spiritual traditions, too, that speak of the soul as a bride of God. Ronda Chervin, who has written about the spirituality of widowhood, calls this, “Jesus [as] the second Bridegroom.” * (In my case this would be “third Bridegroom,” of course.)
This understanding of my present form of chastity is profoundly healing for me. I feel filled, enclosed, and loved, carried and protected every day, in spite of my still very present loss. Celibate chastity is a positive, liberating presence in me, peaceful and meaningful.
To me, the virtue of chastity is a beautiful diamond, a true One Love that puts all other loves in their proper perspectives, making them even more vivid. Chastity is a vessel and an expression of love according to my state in life. But it is the same effulgence of brilliancy; a faithful, steadfast and complete love.
I’ve been pondering dementia all day. By this I don’t mean spinning my minds’ wheels obsessing on it or trying to think what else it could be that Mom might have, or whether I’m going to have it (or how anyone will be able to tell if I do) or anything like that … the way I was before. I’ve been wondering what dementia means spiritually. I think this is partly me trying to find a way to understand this that takes away some of the horror of my mom’s dementia for me or at least gives me a way to think about it that I can stand. But I also think what’s happening in my mind shows that God is giving me not only a little bit of serenity but maybe a glimpse of part of my role, part of my particular walk with Mom and with God and with my family through this. I don’t know if it will make sense to anybody else. But it is beginning to give me a new point of reference that I think I will need, that maybe we will all need in this time ahead of us with Mom.
I remember after the death of my first husband, Blaze, in a car accident in 1998, being so afraid I would forget something about him. I would obsessively focus on remembering the curve of his cheek, the sound of his laugh, on and on. It was very painful to cling so tightly to each remembrance with such fear of losing it. Then one day it occurred to me that I really didn’t have to worry about that because God remembers everything. God remembers every hair of Blaze’s head. Even better -in God there is no time. Blaze’s past, present and future are all present to God. That thought applied to my mom gave me an image of her memory being released into God as the disease progresses.
I also thought about how the Church believes that even if my mom loses cognitive function so far as to have no idea who she is at some point- that her soul is still functioning within her. I’ll take that further and say there is a wisdom passing between her and God, a destiny being worked out and fulfilled whatever we might see on the outside. She is of course more than her body, more than her intellect or personality or social identity. She has infinite value in Christ and as long as she lives God has a purpose for her on earth. We all know that truth of our faith but how much do we really believe it? I think those of us who love my mom are about to learn a lot about that. Maybe she is too.
It came to me that there are three ways the soul can be stripped down to the “nada nada nada” of St. John of the Cross-, until there is nothing left but itself stripped bare before God. Death is one way this happens. The practice of an apophatic spirituality, releasing all that is not God in order to find Him in that “Cloud of Unknowing” where He dwells, is another way. Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com
Perhaps the progression of dementia is another way the process of holy negation can happen. Several times I have thought of my mom’s interests- gardening, cooking, literature, etc. being dropped behind her as she walks. These things so important in her life until now I imagine falling and then being left on her life’s path like accoutrements and uniforms she doesn’t need anymore. I am reminded of Blaze’s shaving things in the bathroom after his death. I couldn’t throw them away for a while. Then one day I thought of how much he hated shaving and how he didn’t have to do it anymore now. I smiled and I threw them away for him.
For Blaze the loss of the world’s and the soul’s external trappings was instant and abrupt. For the mystic and for my mom it is a slow surrender. It is interesting that John of the Cross says the memory is purified by hope. I wonder how that applies here. Complex mystical theology aside if I just saw that sentence, “memory is purified by hope”, I would think about my mom in the slow loss of orientation and desires and memory and wonder where the hope is. The hope is Jesus. Maybe unlike Blaze who was suddenly taken into God’s presence my mom is just going slowly- fading not into meaningless oblivion but into the Heart of Jesus, into the Kingdom of God where she belongs. I think of her common reaction, when she is irritated by some circumstance, of saying, “Well, maybe it will take time off my purgatory!” Maybe this is purgatory for her. Maybe she won’t have to go there now. Purgatory means “purification” doesn’t it?
What if someone went through this degenerative process of Dementia, as much as he or she was able to – with love? What if this person said, “OK, God, here is another part of me for you to keep- I can’t.” I wonder if anyone could do that at least for a while? Dementia is such a heavy cross. Does anyone accept it with love eventually- with faith hope and love- which are the only things that remain in the end? Do those remain even at the end in ways we don’t begin to understand? These three things are not intellectual concepts of the mind. They are so eternal they’ re all that remain. As far as I know they are the only things that go with you when you leave this world and even after this world ends. What does that mean in this situation? Photo by Yuting Gao on Pexels.com
My brother, Mark, is preoccupied with my mom’s apparent sense of isolation. He hates the thought of her being alone in her deteriorating mind. But she isn’t. In the vast gray silence of dementia God is still there, maybe even more there. Who knows but that she will know this better than we do who stand by? If the connections I am making are true then the mystic knows the answer to that. That’s exactly where God is.
Mom doesn’t know about her diagnosis and we won’t have a definitive one for a few weeks when we will hear it at her next appointment. We will all be there with her. I am trusting, or trying to – that God will send each of us whatever grace we need that day. I suppose we each need a way to think of this that makes sense to us. Maybe I found mine.
*Epilog: My mom was diagnosed with Fronto-temporal Dementia and Lymphoma in 2008 at the age of 59, and later, COPD as well. On her own inspiration from the beginning she offered her suffering and her life in union with Christ’s for my brother, who was having very great difficulties, and for our family. She said she felt that God had accepted her offering. She died October 2012 in my care. In the couple of months before her death she had not been able to speak or understand very much at all. Even yes no answers had been hard for her to give. But she started talking a few weeks before she died. She talked a lot about God. She prayed aloud often and seemed to have conversations with the Lord. In one of these she said, “Yes, I’m ready. I’m ready to become a lamb.” Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com
To read the cool obituary I wrote my mom check here:
Sometimes we unnecessarily complicate this simple command. We may pray ineffectively, blocked by our own pride and the subtle forms of self deception and judgment that keep us from being open to the grace of God just when we (and our enemy) need it the most and God wants to give it.
We can pray angry of course. That’s fine. The Psalms and the Prophets are full of good examples of Biblical freaking out at God. I can testify to its being a healing experience myself.
Pride, however, tends to distance us from God. “God resists the proud.” (James 4:6.) He is a push-over for humility and a contrite heart, however. “A humbled contrite heart you will not spurn…For you love truth in the heart. Then in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom.” (Psalm 51)
Remember those two men praying in the Temple and which one went home justified? (Luke 18:9-14.) The one who had the impulse to pray humbly and ask for mercy is the one God blessed. Pride seems to impede prayer. Perhaps humility opens the way for prayer as it grounds us in truth and right relationship between us, others and God. St. Therese even said God can’t resist a humble heart. Scripture says the same thing. Again, James 4:6. “But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”
Asking for mercy, though, seems to turn Jesus to mush. St. Faustina would agree.“I have opened My Heart as a living fountain of mercy. Let all souls draw life from it. Let them approach this sea of mercy with great trust. Diary (1520). “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner,” the “Jesus Prayer,” would seem a good prayer to clear the way for praying for our enemies, opening our hearts to how the Lord of Love wants us to carry that out.
The Gospels show us Jesus responded to the cry for mercy every single time He encountered it. So we can count on that.
The virtue of “self forgetfulness” can re-direct us to God. Praying for my enemies can’t be about myself. I am not praying for my enemies so I can come out of the spiritual beauty shop feeling good about myself in my new “obedience do.” This obedience, ideally, is not to show anybody else, even myself. It is to do and let go of.
Prayer for enemies is not exactly about the enemy either. Who are we to say what he needs? Only God knows the heart. Chances are, if this is an enemy, we really don’t.
Praying for my enemies should not be done in such a way that I feel superior to them. This is another self deception we can fall into: “Lord, please help this sick, hurting person who must be mad at me or disagree with me because she is flawed in some way or had a bad childhood.” Nope. That is often an attempt to place myself above that person or invalidate her, to judge her in the guise of pity. How do I know I’m not more messed up than she is? I don’t. And I won’t unless I stay open to God. I can’t be open to His transforming grace as long as I try to feel superior.
I have to forget about wanting to be right as well. “Forget about that,” I tell myself. “Right is for God. It doesn’t even belong to me.” This is a hard one. But really it’s just a matter of focus. I have to stop looking at myself and my enemy and focus on God alone. Then I can let Him be right and not worry about me. The thing that feels the most on target to me in light of the Gospel, is to take the lowest place, praying from the truth that I cannot see as God sees. I have to know that I don’t know.
We can tell we are praying rightly when we sense that solid peace that comes from God. We can feel this peace even if we are still really upset. We can let Him guide our prayer.
Something that often gives me peace is offering with Jesus all the suffering my enemy has caused me that he might be given whatever God wants to give him.
When we pray we must also let go. God is not going to wrest our problem from us. He waits for us, patient Father that He is, to hand the situation over and for us to get out of His way so He can work it out the way He wants to. With all love He will do this as soon as we allow Him to.
One of the best prayers I ever heard was“God, work Your will through me and work Your will through (name), and let our relationship be what You want it to be.” This is centered in God, simply seeking His will.
In order to empty myself so that God can fill me with His loving will, I try to practice certain mental rules:
• No imaginary conversations with my enemy allowed. At all. If I catch my mind doing that I give it something else to do like a walk with the rosary.
• No brooding. My mind will want to go over and over what happened, what was said, etc. This is what minds want to do when they are upset. I try to have an inner buzzer about that too. “Nope, stop thinking about that. Do the dishes and say the Divine Praises.” Repeating the Holy Name of Jesus works great, too, anytime a negative thought comes up.
*No diagnosing what mental illnesses my enemy might have. God already knows all that there is to know about my enemy.
• Renounce negative thoughts about my enemy in the Name of Christ. When bad thoughts come up and I catch myself I say exactly that. It’s simple. It’s just that I have to do it over and over. It tends to work after a while though. “I renounce that thought in the Name of Christ.” I learned this from a very dear priest after he heard my confession. It works.
I asked my favorite Buddhist, my friend Leslie, if Buddhism has a teaching like praying for one’s enemies. She said the closest thing was probably practicing detachment from anger. Buddha said, “The problem is not with the other person; the problem is with your mind.”I like that. What do we do with it? For us as Christians recognizing the helpful truth of that statement can be a prelude to prayer which is ultimately about God. When we detach from our anger we can align ourselves with God Who is Love and Who asks us to pray for those who harm us. We let go of the brooding, analyzing and judgment that is part of our natural reaction to an injury. Then we can pray in the Spirit and the Holy Spirit can pray within us without any resistance from us.
St. John of the Cross, said, “In the evening of your life you will be judged on love. So love- the way God wants to be loved, and leave off your own way of acting.“ It seems to me that praying for our enemies is about the love of God. We do it because that is what our Beloved asks and that is also what He Himself did, even in His darkest hour.
This is a suggested intercessory prayer from the great Russian Orthodox spiritual classic The way of the Pilgrim and The Pilgrim Continues His Way (the sequel to The Way of a Pilgrim)
“… it is well to bring a mental image of him into the presence of God, and to offer prayer in the following form: ’Most merciful God, Thy will be done, which will have all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. Save and help Thy servant, (name.) Take this desire of mine as a cry of love which Thou hast commanded.”
Repeat as necessary. (It helps restore sanity too, as a bonus.) It is even suggested that one repeat this prayer using the prayer rope. Catholics are more likely to have a rosary on hand to try that with and that works fine. The anonymous author says he has found this prayer “to act powerfully on the one for whom it is prayed.” So maybe we should give our enemies a copy and ask them to pray for us too!
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Bethany Hang Out 