Blessed Christmas

Blessed is He

who took up residence

in the womb

and built there a temple

wherein to dwell,

a shrine in which to be,

a garment in which

He might shine out. 

--St. Ephrem the Syrian,

Hymn 3, Hymns on the Nativity

4th Sunday of Advent

When Christ came into the world, he said: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me;…behold, I come to do your will, O God.” --Heb. 10: 5, 7

The Letter to the Hebrews is one of my favorite books of Scripture. The passage that is read today is particularly fraught with meaning, as it summarizes in a few verses the great mystery that we are about to celebrate: God’s desire to come among us, to be one of us, to assume human flesh, blood, and bone—to become fully human. And all of this out of one motive: love. “For God so loved the world that He sent His only Son,” as St. John has written.

Far too often the term “flesh” has been interpreted in a negative way in the Christian tradition and this has led to all manner of distortions: extreme asceticism, hatred of the body, abuse of the body, the denigration of sexuality. There is nothing wrong with the flesh when it refers to our bodies or our bodily condition. Created by God, our bodies are good and we have a responsibility to respect the body and to care properly for it. Similarly, the same mistake has been made with regard to the term “world”. The world is good, as it too was created by God. Yet, we are called to be in the world, but not of the world. So what does that mean? “Of the world” refers to worldliness—which is the seeking after power, prestige, fame, fortune, and all the fleeting things that we are tempted to grasp in order to ensure our own standing and security in this life. All of which serves only to distract us from “the one thing necessary”.

The one thing necessary is to do the will of God. It was for this that Christ came into the world: “Behold, I come to do your will, O God.” But, we struggle with knowing and doing the will of God. What is the will of God, for us, here, now? The trouble is no angel appears to us to tell us, as happened to Mary. Unlike her, we are left to figure it out for ourselves. But, is it really all that difficult to know the will of God? Perhaps we have only to look to Jesus to learn what the will of God is and how to do it.

Blessed 4th Sunday of Advent!

Sandy Hook

“And Jesus wept.” John 11:36

Third Sunday of Advent

“The crowds asked John the Baptist, ‘What should we do?’ He said to them in reply, ‘Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.’”  --Lk. 3: 10-11

Can any plainer words be spoken? John the Baptist went to the very heart of the matter. He pointed out that having come and turned back to God, having repented, one must then bear fruit in daily life. Notice that it’s not a matter of doing these acts of charity and justice that come first. No, these actions flow from the act of turning back to God. They flow from knowing that one is accepted, loved, and forgiven. They are acts of gratitude, not obligation. They flow from an inner joy that knows no bounds. These acts are not done to gain acceptance, love, or forgiveness. For John the Baptist, there was no basking in warm, fuzzy feelings. Rather, one must evidence repentance by actions.

Notice John the Baptist never says, “Look, you earned what you have and you have every right to keep it.” What would it be like in our world today if the most wealthy among us adopted the attitude and the counsel of John the Baptist? If you have more than you need, give. Share what you have with those less fortunate than yourselves. Don’t bother to determine if that person deserves it, leave that to God. The person needs it. That is enough. Rejoice, rather, that you have been so richly blessed.

Somehow it has escaped many of us that perhaps that is part of God’s design: that some would have more than enough and some less, so that those with much could be blessed in the giving and those with less could be blessed in the receiving. This design is thwarted, however, when those with much hoard their wealth. There is nothing wrong with being wealthy. There is everything wrong with hoarding it to the detriment of your brothers and sisters in need. There is everything wrong with sitting in judgment, as to who or who does not deserve to receive assistance, while ignoring the obvious fact that one has done nothing to deserve wealth. This is just a wealthy person’s version of ‘entitlement’.

Blessed third week of Advent!  

Second Sunday of Advent

“And this is my prayer: that your love may increase ever more and more in knowledge and in every kind of perception, to discern what is of value, so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ...”  --Phil. 1: 9-10

What does it mean to discern what is of value? In a way, is that not what the season of Advent is about? When all is said and done, what really matters in life? It’s ironic that in the most affluent country on earth, people easily lose sight of the things that really matter. We can get so caught up in worries and problems, hopes and fears, that we take for granted the gifts we rely on every day: health, family, friends, and faith--to name but a few. When we take these gifts for granted, our priorities go askew. Particularly during this season, we can become so distracted by all the myriad of things that need to be done and the things that money can buy. Patience and tempers grow short. Our minds and attention are scattered. We fell pressured in so many ways by so many things. It’s no wonder that automobile accidents spike during this season, as do family disturbances, suicides, and other tragedies.

We would do well to remember, as a MasterCard commercial so aptly relates, that some things in life are priceless. Some things are of such great value that all the wealth in the world cannot purchase them. Have you ever found yourself realizing that the thing you most wanted was something money could not buy? It is a gift and a grace to find ourselves in such a position. Our hungry hearts will not be satisfied by the things that money can buy. Our hearts can only be satisfied by things of true and lasting value: an expression of gratitude, an email or a letter from a loved one, a smile on the face of a child, an expression of forgiveness. It is love that sees and discerns the true value in life. And it is Love and Forgivenness, come down to us in the form of a child, that genuinely satisfies the hungry heart.

Blessed second week of Advent!   

First Sunday of Advent

We begin Advent with a focus on the coming of the Lord at an unknown, future time. We are called to wake up, to be always on guard, to be alert and not sleepy. As the weeks progress, the focus will shift ever more toward the coming of the Lord in history--the event that we commemorate on Christmas Day.

For more than a week now, the world around us has been in full swing for the Christmas season. Merchants are flooding us with sales and email offers. Christmas carols are playing in the background in stores and offices. Christmas trees and buildings are lighted in our cities, towns, and neighborhoods. All of this is well and good as we prepare for Christmas Day. However, the Church in her wisdom invites us to step back from all of this hustle and bustle. For the next four weeks, we are asked to make a space in our busy lives for emptiness and silence. We are invited to reflect on what the coming of the Lord means for us: then, now, and in the future. We are invited to prepare a space within for the greatest gift of all. A gift that only God can give and the only gift that really matters.

Let us cherish these days of Advent and this opportunity to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord.

Blessed Advent!

Advent

The first Vespers of Advent has been sung. The first candle on the wreath has been lighted. Yes, Advent has begun. I love this liturgical season. If you wish to enter into the spirit of the season, listen to our monastery podcast of lauds and vespers: Monastery Podcast

V. Ask Something of Me

Will God, then, grant any and all requests like a genie in a fairy tale? All of us who pray know that some prayers go unanswered. If the hero of a fairy tale asks for something foolish or makes a frivolous request, the genie grants it and the hero must suffer the consequences. God, however, is not an indiscriminate genie. God exercises as much judgment and discernment as any good, wise, and loving parent would. If what we request is not good for us, God will not grant it. God will give us only good gifts--gifts that lead to a deepening and strengthening of our divine-human relationship: gifts that lead to growth and maturity; gifts that can be put to use in the service of God and God's people.

Both the prayer of Jesus and the prayer of Solomon can be models for us. The prayer of Solomon is the prayer of a youth mature in the ways of prayer. Solomon's prayer is heroic. Solomon acknowledges his relationship with God humbly, reverently. He keeps his request simple and to the point. He asks for what he genuinely needs, acknowledging that all is God's. And, finally, he pleases God by having the courage to ask for one of the greater gifts.

IV. Ask Something of Me

The apostle Paul also urges us to seek after the greater gifts, particularly love (1Cor. 14:1). Likewise, the blessed Isaac teaches that "The Creator of eternity does not wish that something perishable, something cheap, something time bound, is sought from him. It would be a terrible wrong to His generosity and lavishness to ignore requests for what eternally endures, in favor of petitions for what is transitory and perishable."(2)

Does this mean that we are not to ask God for things or needs that are transitory or perishable? Doesn't that contradict Jesus' teaching that we are to ask God for all our needs, including our most basic, our daily bread? Jesus and Paul and the blessed Isaac all seem to be instructing us not to limit ourselves to mundane requests. They are teaching us, as we grow and mature in faith, to have the courage to ask for the greater gifts: gifts of wisdom, discernment, compassion, understanding, patience, knowledge, fortitude, peace, generosity, piety, faith, hope and love.

We are encouraged to pray for the spiritual gifts that will endure and build up the body of Christ. When we seek these greater gifts, God is not only pleased, God is delighted. God is so delighted that God gives us these greater gifts and those things we need--in abundance--just as God did to Solomon. Jesus tell us "If you, with all your sins, know how to give your children what is good, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to anyone who asks him" (Mt. 7: 11). And the greatest of these gifts is the Holy Spirit (Lk. 11:13).
______________________________
(2) Ibid.

III. Ask Something of Me

Jesus emphasizes God's readiness to hear our prayer by assuring us that God knows all that we need before we ask (Mt. 6:8). There can be no doubt that God, as Creator, knows what every creature needs for sustenance and survival, or that God knows what abilities and gifts each creature possesses and those that are lacking. Why, then, if God already knows what we need, does God want to be asked--indeed, waits to be asked? One possibility may be that God wishes us, like Solomon, to search our hearts and minds and so have the opportunity to grow in consciousness of our need, our dependency, and our weakness. Another possibility may be that God waits for us to ask because God needs our consent. God may be able to grant us only those gifts and graces that we are ready and willing to receive. Our asking is an indication of our readiness, our willingness, and our consciousness. Perhaps, God must wait on our prayer even though God knows what we need and is ready to give it.

Jesus teaches us most about prayer, and how to pray, however, by giving us his own prayer, the Our Father, as a model for all prayer. First, we address God as Father, humbly and reverently, giving him glory and seeking first his kingdom and his will, acknowledging our intimate relationship. Then we ask simply and directly for our needs, for God's forgiveness, guidance, and protection, acknowledging that all is God's. These are the essential elements of prayer. In the conferences of Cassian, the blessed Isaac, a desert father, points out that in the Our Father "There is no request for riches, no reminder of honor, no plea for power or bravery, no reference to bodily well-being or to this present life."(1) The Our Father is both a model and a summary of Jesus' teaching on prayer.

Jesus concludes his teaching on prayer by encouraging us to ask our heavenly Father for all our needs. "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you (Mt. 7:7). Thus, Jesus instructs us to dismiss all anxiety from our minds and not to worry about what we are to eat, or what we are to drink, or what we are to wear--not because these things are not important, but because God desires to give us greater gifts than these (Mt. 6:31ff). God is only waiting for us to ask. Have we ever thought of asking for these greater gifts? Gifts like the one Solomon asked for? Jesus urges us to seek first God's kingship over us, God's way of holiness (Mt. 6:33).
__________________________________________

(1) John Cassian: Conferences, The Classics of Western Spirituality, Paulist Press, NY, 1985, p. 116.

II. Ask Something of Me

Like Solomon, we are faced with the same opportunity--not just once, but daily. Every day our heavenly Father awaits our prayer and our requests. Every day God says to us: "Ask something of me and I will give it to you." But what are we to ask for? How are we to pray? The same question puzzled the first disciples as well. The disciples, who frequently had the opportunity to observe Jesus at prayer, sensed that his way of prayer was somehow different from that of the Scribes and the Pharisees. They observed that Jesus not only prayed and prayed differently, but they saw that prayer had an effect on him, his life, and his ministry. They wanted to learn to pray as he did, so they asked him to teach them to pray, as John the Baptist and other rabbis taught their disciples to pray. Like the disciples, we too, long to learn how to pray as Jesus prayed. We would like to pray as wisely as Solomon prayed.

What does Jesus teach us about prayer? Jesus teaches that prayer is an act of relationship. "Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (Mt. 6:6). Prayer is an intimate conversation between persons in relationship--and that relationship is one of Creator to creature, of Father and Mother, source of life, to child. Furthermore, when we wish to enter into this intimate conversation, Jesus instructs us to go somewhere private, somewhere that we won't be observed or disturbed. This may be our own room or some other special place, or it may be the inner room of our heart in the midst of the day's activities.Wherever our place of prayer, we are to enter alone into God's presence. Here in the silence and the privacy of God's presence, we may open our hearts to God freely and intimately with the confidence of beloved children.

Jesus also teaches us that prayer is to be kept simple and to the point. "Do not heap us empty phrases" (Mt. 6:7). We are to understand that our loving God does not need long explanations, fancy words, or excessive pleading. We do not need to convince God as though we were Philadelphia lawyers arguing a case before judge and jury. God will hear our prayer, no matter how halting or inarticulate. God hears all prayer, even the slightest stirring of our hearts, and is pleased with our efforts, however small or great. We are to trust in faith that God will hear our prayer.

I. Ask Something of Me

This article was originally published in Spirit & Life magazine, May-June, 2000

Nearly everyone enjoys a good fairy tale. That's because stories speak to us in different ways and on deeper levels than other forms of communication. Whether we are children or adults, fairy tales engage our hearts and imaginations, as much as our minds. For me one of the more fascinating type of fairy tales are those of a mysterious being who suddenly appears and offers to grant the hero one or more requests. Whether this mysterious being is a relatively benign genie that emerges from a bottle or a more intimidating figure, such as a witch or a troll, we instinctively know that the hero is being put to the test. What will the hero choose? Will the hero choose wisely or foolishly? Will the choice be based on selfish motives or unselfish ones? I can never read such stories without asking myself: if faced with the same opportunity, what would I ask for?

This was precisely the situation Solomon found himself in, when the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said: "Ask something of me and I will give it to you" (1 Kings 3:5). What should he ask for? No doubt his mind raced, flipping through hundreds of possibilities: long life, a great and secure kingdom, tremendous wealth, the swiftest horse and the finest chariot in the world. The possibilities were endless, but he could request only one thing. What would it be? He searched his mind. He searched his heart. It was there he found something he genuinely lacked and needed. "O Lord, my God...I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act...Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong. For who is able to govern this vast people of yours" (1 Kings 3:7,9)? God was pleased with Solomon's request--so pleased that he granted him a wise and understanding heart and riches and glory, and, if he heeded God's commands, a long life.

Perpetual Adoration: 15 years later

I wrote the article on perpetual adoration fifteen years ago. Since then, there has been a resurgence of interest in, and practice of, perpetual adoration. It is heartening to see a younger generation discovering this prayer. It can be one entryway, and I think a very good one, into the practice of contemplative prayer. What is less encouraging, however, is that the understanding of 'perpetual adoration' today tends toward a literal interpretation: it is conceived of as a kind of 'spiritual relay race', in which adoration is the baton that is handed off from one person to another in unbroken succession. It is understood as consecutive and continuous periods of prayer which thereby constitute 'perpetual adoration'. Thus, if it's not carried on 24/7, then it's not perpetual adoration. At least, not according to this literal criteria. It is this literalism that is problematic.

The focus, and sometimes insistence, on perpetual adoration as a 24/7 practice, reminds me of the biblical injunction 'to pray always'. This brief scriptural phrase, one the early desert monastics honed in on, presented them with a practical problem: How could a person pray 24/7? Believing that this was addressed to each and every individual Christian, the early monastics struggled with how to implement and fulfill it. Their solution was to structure periods of communal prayer throughout the day into the monastic rhythm of the community. Not only did they structure periods of communal prayer, they also structured periods of work, study, and reading. While monastics would be the first to acknowledge that humans do not live by bread alone, monastics, like all human beings, also had to work for their daily bread. Whatever the monastic's work, the monastic sought to take a word or a phrase from the psalms or other scriptures to repeat and ponder throughout the day. Over the course of many days and years, these words and phrases worked their way into ever deeper and deeper levels of the monastic's mind and heart, until the words or phrases took on a life of their own, 'praying' themselves without a monastic's conscious effort or awareness. This occurred ever so slowly, ever so imperceptibly. In this manner, the desire of the monastic to fulfill the injunction to pray always was realized.

What I am attempting to get at here, is that perpetual adoration is not meant to be a spiritual relay race. It's a place to begin, to be sure, but it's not the place to end. Perpetual adoration, as a form of prayer, is meant to enflesh itself into the very heart and mind of a person--to enflesh itself so deeply, that it takes on a life of its own, like the beating of the heart or the drawing of a breath, so that whether one is awake or asleep, one is adoring.

III. Whatever Happened to Perpetual Adoration?

In adoration, I come to know the presence of God that fills and suffuses the universe in all its parts: to know the God who is so intensely and intimately wedded to creation--down to the smallest atom, quark, and neutrino--and who can never be separated from it. It is the vision of Gerard Manley Hopkins: "The earth is ablaze with the grandeur of God. It will flame out like shook foil." Adoration is seeing with a single eye, as God sees, and loving with a single heart, as God loves. In adoration I become like one who sees the new heavens and the new earth.

To live in adoration is to adore God anywhere and everywhere, at all times, in all places, in every circumstance and situation. This is perpetual adoration and we are called to become such perpetual adorers. When adoration becomes perpetual, there arises a natural, spontaneous outflow of that life and love that is the pouring forth of the very life of the Trinity. This life pours forth into those who adore and pours through them, flowing forth into the whole of creation only to be caught up again into God. When we live in perpetual adoration, there is nothing insignificant, nothing without meaning. To live in perpetual adoration is to see all as holy, all as Body of Christ.

As a Church and as individual members of it, we have only begun to plumb the depths and the fullness of what perpetual adoration is. The passing away of former practices and understandings--and they are passing away whether we will it or no--opens for us a vast expanse that, at first glance, appears to be emptiness. However, in this emptiness is fullness, the depths of which we must have the courage to plumb. We will never again be able to cast our understandings in stone, bronze, or concrete--nor should we seek to do so. If anything, we must learn to live with the provisional, the temporary, with constantly evolving understandings and expressions. Our lives, our faith, our practices, and our expressions will always be growing, expanding, evolving. These will be in process continually, just as we are in process. It is not easy, nor is it comfortable, to live in the dynamism that is the very heart and life of our Triune God. We are all in the process of becoming perpetual adorers. What we feel so poignantly at this point in our history as a Church is, I believe, the urgency of that calling and that becoming. We must become what all people are called to be: eucharistic people of perpetual adoration.

II. Whatever Happened to Perpetual Adoration?

My understanding was very limited when I was a child. Now that I am an adult, my understanding has grown and expanded with the teachings of the Church and the Second Vatican Council. As my understanding of Eucharist and the presence of Christ has grown and matured, so has my understanding of adoration. I continue to pray in chapel in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, because I am drawn to it, just as I have always been. However, structured times and programs of prayer in chapel in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament are no longer my primary expression or understanding of adoration. As I have lived this prayer, as I have prayed in quiet adoration, I have grown into an entirely new understanding and vision. Adoration is no longer something I do, or a program to be maintained. Adoration has become an integral part of my life and of who I am. I find I am becoming what I am called: a Benedictine Sister of Perpetual Adoration. Today there is no place, no time, that I am not in the presence of our Eucharistic God. All the world has become for me a house of prayer. Every tree, every rock, every bush and flower and blade of grass burn with the presence and glory of God. Every breath I breathe is filled with the presence of God. There is no time, no place, that I cannot adore the living God.

Now when I go to pray in chapel, it is for me a return to the center, to the ground zero, from which all flows, all radiates. It is there that I focus my attention with full intention. There I worship in Spirit and in truth, as I focus and strengthen my inner gaze, placing myself in the full intensity of the beam of God's gaze. I pray in chapel to receive anew the vision of God and of reality, to receive again the gift of that calling which is a drawing into the very heart and life of God, the dance of adoration, of praise and thanksgiving. Adoration has become my life. It is a way of living, a way of seeing, a way of being, and a way of doing. I will continue to pray in chapel, as my inner gaze and my outer gaze increasingly become one, until, seeing only God, I am able to hold the stillness of that gaze in the heart of the movement which is daily life.

I. Whatever Happened to Perpetual Adoration?

This article was first published in the March-April, 1997, issue of Spirit & Life magazine.

If you are old enough, like me, you probably remember the days when we had practices and devotions such as Benediction, the Forty Hour's devotion, and the continuous prayer before the Blessed Sacrament known as perpetual adoration. The parish where I spent my childhood, Blessed Sacrament Church in Kansas City, Kansas, had just such a program of perpetual adoration and it was the pride of the parish. I remember as a child desiring to participate in the way that many of my fellow parishioners did. They committed themselves to half hours of adoration by day and/or an hour by night on a regular, weekly basis. As a child I longed to do that, but my family lived too far from our parish church, so I did what I could: I stopped in the church after school for short periods of prayer whenever possible. Thus, growing up in a parish with a tradition of perpetual adoration, when attendance at daily Mass was as much a part of the curriculum as reading, writing, and arithmetic, it seemed only natural that I would develop a dedication to the Eucharist--a dedication that many people my age and older still share today. It is no doubt why I found myself attracted to the Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration and why I became a member. However, over the past ten to fifteen years many changes have occurred in our Church and in our community. These changes have resulted in different ways of living out and expressing dedication and devotion to the Eucharist, which had been expressed in the practice of perpetual adoration as continuous prayer before the Blessed Sacrament.

Since the Second Vatican Council, my understanding of Eucharist and the presence of Christ has grown and broadened. While I continue to experience the presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, I experience the presence of Christ in the Word of God proclaimed during the liturgy, in the person of every member of the gathered assembly, and in the presider. The radiant and full presence of Christ in the host extends far beyond the limits and boundaries of the host. The presence of Christ, by virtue of the resurrection, fills the universe in all its parts.

Feed My Sheep

Jesus' instruction to Peter after the resurrection was: "Feed my sheep." It was an important instruction, so important that Jesus repeated it three times. Now, I know that biblical scholars typically interpret the three times that Jesus asks Peter whether or not Peter loves Him and the subsequent injunction to feed His sheep as a counter to Peter's three denials before the crucifixion. That's the scholarly interpretation. However, I think it was more than Jesus simply giving Peter three opportunities to re-affirm his love for Him. I think the role of shepherd was key to Jesus' understanding of Himself and His mission and I think Jesus' intention was to impress this upon Peter.

Jesus goes to great lengths in the Gospel of John in describing Himself as the Good Shepherd. Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine sheep in order to search out and bring back one lost sheep. Frequently, in teaching the crowds who came to Him, Jesus sees them and has compassion on them because they are like sheep without a shepherd. The image of Christ as the Good Shepherd was one of the most beloved images of Christ in the early Church.

I fail to understand the vision of Benedict XVI of a "leaner, meaner church with conservative doctrine and compliant faithful"[1]. Is it not his role as chief shepherd to seek out the lost and to work for an increase in the flock entrusted to his care? Yet it seems that he, as well as others, are working diligently to threaten and discipline a restive flock into submission.

If I were a priest, bishop, cardinal, or pope I would be quaking in my clerical collar upon hearing these words of the prophet Jeremiah, which were proclaimed today:

          Woe to the shepherds who mislead and scatter the flock of my pasture, says the Lord....
          You have scattered my sheep and driven them away. You have not cared for them.


"Feed my sheep," Jesus said--not drive them away.

[1] Full article:
http://www.religiondispatches.org/archive/sexandgender/4476/catholic_church_targets_proponent_of_women%E2%80%99s_ordination%3B_feminist_theologian/

Becoming Prayer

There comes a point in the spiritual life when you cannot pray.  At least, you cannot pray in the way you would like. Perhaps you have been through this before and after awhile you discovered a new way to pray. But this time is different. This time nothing satisfies. This time there is no growth into a different way to pray; no growth into a different form of prayer. This time the experience is one of an endless, empty waste: a desert where you find no pillar of cloud by day nor a pillar of fire by night. There is only the vast emptiness of the desert, a desert in which you cannot find so much as a burning bush. The vast emptiness of this desert is complete. Everything you formerly used to pray–prayers, pslams, songs, scriptures, everything–absolutely everything–has turned to ashes. You can find satisfaction, consolation in nothing. No thing is of any avail. You are left with an empty heart, with only the faintest desire to pray, and the fear that that desire itself will soon go out. Everywhere you turn, there is emptiness.

The temptation to give up on the spiritual life or to seek solace in activity, work, or ministry is nearly overwhelming. Prayer, over the many long years you have devoted to it, now seems far too demanding, far too difficult, and far too fruitless to continue. You seem only to have succeeded at reaching a dead end. Yet, this place of dead end, this place of no where and no thing, is a place of rare and deep grace. Now you are in God-time and God-space. Prayer becomes less your work and more God’s work. God’s work in the depths of your heart–hidden, silent, unseen, unfelt. Here God is most at home.

God fills the heart that is empty, the heart that is silent. But even this emptying is not your work, nor your accomplishment, but God’s. Blessed are the poor in spirit. It is not your doing for you cannot do it. Not being able to pray is gift and grace. To accept this gift, to accept the Divine invitation to allow this to occur, is to become prayer, not pray-er. What you feared were dying embers now burst forth in brilliant flame. You no longer pray, rather you are being prayed. A living flame of prayer burns within, a lamp never extinguished, a perpetual sanctuary lamp in the heart.

Video Meditation

Listen! I'm speaking to you.

Today we celebrate the Feast of St. Benedict, whose Rule for Monasteries continues to be an enduring guide for Christian life.

When I first read The Rule of St. Benedict, my initial response was: Is that all there is? The Rule was so much shorter than I expected it to be. As is the case with many first impressions, it was simply wrong. There is a great deal more to The Rule than one gets after one reading. Any monastic will affirm that it probably takes a lifetime to plumb the wisdom contained within its pages. That is probably why St. Benedict mandates that The Rule be read to the novice several times during the period of the novitiate--a time of prolonged reflection and study on The Rule. Benedict also counsels that The Rule be read daily in the life of the monastic community. Undoubtedly, Benedict knows well the human tendency to hear something and then to promptly go off and forget it.

Benedict wants the reader to do more than simply read or hear The Rule. Benedict's first word is: Listen! Listening is more than just hearing. Listening is attending. It is being attentive to more than words. It is being attentive to the speaker, to the speaker's person and voice, to the speaker's message, meaning, and call. It is being attentive to the full range of communication. Benedict's expression for this type of attention is to "attend with the ear of the heart". The first requirement of this type of attentiveness is to "shut up"--to stop the chatter, whether of tongue or thought--and to turn one's attention to the Other who is addressing us. 

The Blame Game

"If we knew the [human heart] as God knows it, and the network of interdependence which spreads the responsibility for every sin, not only among countless people, but over many generations, we should not attempt to untwist the skeins of right and wrong. For us, justice is to forgive and to make reparation ourselves for all sin."
                             --Caryll Houselander, The Passion of the Infant Christ, p. 107


This is one of my favorite quotes. Houselander points out the futility of engaging in the blame game. The blame game has been a pastime of human beings since Eve ate of the forbidden fruit and offered some to Adam. Remember Adam's response when asked why he ate the forbidden fruit? "The woman you put here with me--she gave me some fruit from the tree and I ate it." Score one for the blame game. Then God asks Eve what she has done and she replies, "The serpent deceived me and I ate." Score two for the blame game. Adam blames Eve; Eve blames the serpent. So it is that human beings have been passing the blame around ever since, handing it off like a hot potato in order to avoid guilt and responsibility.

There's plenty of blame being spread around these days. Politicians are particularly good at it. Whose fault is it that the economy is in a quagmire? Who gets the blame? It's not one political party or the other. It's far more complex than that. Everyone wants to take the moral high ground by blaming the other side. But there in no moral high ground here. Everyone is at fault. While some are more at fault than others, no one is faultless. It would be far better to put energy into working toward solutions than continuing the endless cycle of blame.

Politics, however, is not the only arena rife with blame. It can be found in corporations, in families, in communities, and in the church--in short, anywhere and everywhere human beings gather. It's as though the seeds of discord were sown long ago and continue to sprout up in every age. We are tempted to believe that our opponent, our enemy, is the person or group we want to blame, but our opponent is not someone we can see. Our opponent is the evil one, the principalities and powers of this age and of every age. Someone once remarked that if the devil can convince you he does not exist, he has already won. Engaging in the blame game plays right into the evil one's hands. Can you imagine the delight with which he watches as human beings squabble with each other?

What, then, is the way out? Humility, love, and compassion toward ourselves and one another points us in the right direction. No one can know the heart of another. No one can take the moral high ground, because no one is without sin. That's the lesson of the story of the woman taken in adultery in the Gospel of John. There is only one who can take the moral high ground and He did not take it. He did not blame. He did not condemn. He forgave.  

Thank you, Cincinnati!

It was very heartwarming to see the support for us sisters! We are all Church. Let us stand together! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0lx_fTjlYM

There Will Always Be Pharisees

I have many friends who have left the church. Though I understand why, I am saddened non-the-less. For some of them, it's a matter of finding a place to worship where they feel welcome and accepted. For others, it's a matter of leaving an institution that has become toxic for them. I am sad, because it doesn't have to be this way. I am sad, because very fine people are walking away from a church that sorely needs them. They have so much to offer.

A number of years ago, one of my friends asked me how I did it--meaning, how do I remain in a church that has become so polarized, reactionary, and less than welcoming. At one time in my life, I struggled with remaining in the church. In fact, I walked away for an entire year. But it was a funny thing. I discovered I couldn't get the 'catholic' out of me. It was as though that 'indelible mark' I had been taught about in childhood which baptism conferred on the soul, really was just that--something that could never be blotted out. Something that was a part of me and would remain there in the deepest fabric of my being no matter what I did. No matter how hard and how far I ran in the opposite direction, I would not escape it.

I came back to the church, because I realized the church was just as much mine as it was anyone else's. The church belongs to all of us. We are all church. I think I intuited what Flannery O'Connor so aptly observed: "The fleas come with the dog." Yes, indeed, and a very flea-ridden dog it is! To put it another way, there will always be Pharisees.

So, what is a Pharisee? Scripture tells us pretty clearly. It's the occupational hazard of anyone who seeks to live a religious life, but particularly of those who hold positions of authority. Here's the scriptural description of a Pharisee:

• teaches as doctrine the precepts of men
• makes void the Word of God for the sake of tradition
• is a blind guide
• is unable to read the signs of the times
• binds up heavy loads for others to carry and never lifts a finger to help
• do everything with an eye to being seen by others
• love to embellish religious garb with fringe and lace
• love to take the seat of honor at feasts and the best seat in the church
• love to be greeted in the streets and to be called teachers
• close up the kingdom of heaven to others, neither entering, nor allowing others to enter
• travel far and wide to make converts and then make the converts even worse
• tithe in small things, while neglecting the greater: justice, mercy, and faith
• strain out gnats, while swallowing camels
• is clean on the outside, but polluted within
• appears outwardly righteous, but is inwardly full of hypocrisy and iniquity
• builds the tombs of the prophets, canonizes saints, and adorns monuments of the righteous
• congratulates self on the observance of the law, thinking of self as better than others

This is scary stuff--and there's probably a little of the Pharisee in each of us, if we're honest enough to admit it. 

The Eighth Beatitude for Our Day

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so men persecuted the prophets who were before you.                                                                                                                                                            Mt. 5 :10-11

Blessed are those who are persecuted for doing what is right:

• Feeding the hungry
• Clothing the naked
• Healing the sick and wounded
• Visiting those in prison
• Providing water to the thirsty
• Welcoming the stranger
• Working for justice
• Reconciling and making peace
• Defending the poor, the orphan, and the widow
• Consoling the sorrowful
• Comforting the abused
• Showing mercy to sinners and the outcast

for you have entered the kingdom.

Blessed are you when you fulfill the commandment of love, when men revile you and persecute you, because you are loving; when men utter all kinds of evil against you falsely, because you are fulfilling my commands. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven and men cannot take that away from you; for just so, men persecuted the prophets who were before you and you will be counted among my prophets.

An open letter to women religious

My dear sisters in Christ,

     These are very trying days for all of us in the Church as our brothers, the bishops and cardinals of Holy Church, look upon us with distrust, censure, and condemnation. While we experience this as hurtful and insulting, let us not forget that they are our brothers in Christ. Let us look upon them with the compassionate eyes of Christ. Let us look upon them as Mary, our Mother in the Lord, would look upon them: with utmost, tender love.
     My sisters, consider how our brothers must be hurting, how fearful and threatened they must feel, how deeply wounded are our brothers. How in their fear and woundedness, they grasp ever more desperately for power and control, unlike Him '"who though He was in the form of God, did not deem equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied Himself," relinquishing all, in order to become one like us in all things but sin; unlike Him, who willingly became utterly and completely vulnerable to us, His creatures.
     I am writing this letter, my sisters, to invite all us us to pray and to intercede for our brothers, to pray for their healing and the healing of our Church. Let us make August 15th, the Feast of the Assumption of our Most Blessed Mother, a day of prayer and intercession for our brothers, a day of prayer and intercession for the healing of our Church and for an end to the injustice of misogyny. Let us ask Our Blessed Mother to intercede for all of us, her children.

**disclaimer: the views and opinions expressed in this blog are solely my own and do not reflect the views or opinions of my community or my sisters in community.