Dark Night: John of the Cross

Intense old man, away in the cellar dark.

Treasure a tiny space every now and then

Absent thoughts and consolation

Consent in Silence

I first encountered the sixteenth-century mystic John of the Cross in Thomas Merton’s book titled, The Ascent to Truth. Not only in Merton’s book did I encounter the Carmelite theologian but also a deeper understanding of the spiritual path of purgation, illumination, and unitive.

Its timing was a gift through Grace as I was journeying through my own Dark Night. John’s poetic writings especially his Spiritual Canticle pierced my soul and wakened me to his soul and place of writing.

John of the Cross played a significant role in the reform movement of the Carmelite Order known as the Discalced Carmelites. The following narrative from Mirabai Starr’s translation of Dark Night of the Soul offer a short bio.

“John (of the Cross) paid for his participation in this (Carmelite reform) effort. In 1577, at the age of 35, he was captured by a group of friars committed to upholding the traditions of the established Church. He was taken to Toledo where he was interrogated and tortured. They tried to force him into denouncing the reform but he refused. And so he was imprisoned in a tiny dark closet that had previously served as a toilet. He was brought out only to be flogged in the center of the dining commons while the monks ate their dinner.

John himself suffered virtual starvation. That first winter, he endured brutal cold and was offered neither cloak nor blanket. In the summer, the heat was stifling and his clothes began to rot on his body. At first, he took comfort in his quiet interior connection to God, but over time the divine presence began to fade and John could not help but wonder if his Beloved had abandoned him. He was Jonah languishing inside the belly of the whale.

In the depths of his despair, John composed passionate love poems to God. Although his creative flow saved his sanity, it could not save his life. Convinced after nine months that if he endured another moment of incarceration he would die, John tied knots in scraps of cloth and slipped through a tiny window at the upper edge of his cell. He lowered himself down the long wall of the monastery and into the safety of the night.

He had traveled through perfect darkness and emerged to find the living God waiting for him in the depths of his own heart. For the next two decades he John dedicated himself to the reform, and the sweet simplicity of guiding the spiritual lives of his Barefoot Sons and Daughters.”

Toward the end of the saint’s life, envies and disquietudes led to a secret effort to remove him from the sphere of influence. He died in 1592 at the age of 49. He was canonized in 1726. Today he is one of thirty-six Doctors of the Church. He is also considered the patron saint of poets.

Sacrament of Surrender

Legacy of violence shows no heart: Only power and its pride
Adding harm to wounded souls: not work of God
The good shepherd recovers the lost: Not abandon

From the throne: “You did nothing wrong”
Rendered judgment: Empty words
Under what circumstances: Truth, justice, and charity ignored?

Back laid bare, branded: Worth-less
No satisfaction, no absolution: Paper speaks a self-indictment
Stay in the dark, hide: Shame does as shame is

In Light, you would see: Scandal of your making
In Light, you would see: Spirit and soul transcend fortress walls
In Light, you would see: A thread left for redemption

Idols fallen, veil torn: Tears melt the scales
Advocate, Counselor, and Healer: Walking and talking
Burning heart, breaking bread: Consent in Silence

Outside the Word: There are no vows
Called by name, Grace bestowed: Not by man, nor to be hidden
Communion of Saints, Church: Welcomes, heals, …does no harm

It is finished: Only in God, …not in man.

“When members of the Sanhedrin heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him.” Acts 7:54

Icons of Christ the Servant

First obligation, restore justice

Some stand, others carry stone

Blood is drawn

Now truth be told.

...another excerpt

Continue reading “Dark Night: John of the Cross”

Pathway of Soul

“We all have the innate capacity to manifest God because we already are that image by virtue of being created.” (Thomas Keating)

So, what gives rise to the mistaken belief that we are ever separate from Grace?

The below image is my rendering of a famous 12th-century icon, by Andrei Rublev, based on Genesis 18 and titled, Hospitality of Abraham; The biblical story where three strangers are welcomed into the abode of Abraham and Sarah.

I’ve titled it “Never Alone.” It expresses conviction and consent of God’s Presence and Action in my life, a Holy Presence which never abandons nor exiles. It suggests a relationship and a safe meeting place for communion and refuge from the worst of this world.

See the eucharistic chalice at its lower center. When I was a child, I would imagine when receiving communion during mass; the host would float down over my speckled soul; Wrap it and return it to full white divinity.

Today I hold a broader experience, imagination, and practice of prayer, Church, and our eucharistic sacrifice. I include lived experience and imagination as necessary for a deeper understanding of faith’s mysteries. For words can only point.

It is through the practice of Contemplative/Centering Prayer that I am reminded my thoughts are not God’s thoughts.

Contemplative prayer is silence, the “symbol of the world to come” or “silent love.” In this silence, unbearable to the “outer” man, the Father speaks to us his incarnate Word, who suffered, died, and rose; In this silence, the Spirit of adoption enables us to share in the prayer of Jesus. “…like entering into the Eucharistic liturgy.” (CCC2711, 2717)

When I recognize that I am ” a little more than nothing,” but much, much more than my thoughts, my feelings, my body, my spirit, or their summation, I begin to know myself deeply and this “silent love,” within my soul.

And not me just alone, but as my spiritual sister (Cynthia) in the forest calls the below image, “the great cloud of witnesses;”

A Communion of Saints

In being open, vulnerable, and heartfelt in the sharing of both light and shadow, we enter a deep intimacy, …as a communion of holy persons.

This agape, …our communion of souls is the very best of meeting places. And for me, the incarnate and deepest meaning of Church, “on earth as it is in heaven.”

Until we enter full consummation with “thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven,” our outer man and outer world will bear its suffering and death. It is a lonely place, but through our call and participation as a People of God in the Work of God (Opus Dei), we live a deep eucharistic (sacrificial) liturgy (CCC 957,1069).

First, then, a lesson of silence (CCC 533).

Continue reading “Pathway of Soul”

Fruitfulness: Spiritual Ripening

Mr. Bob died two years ago.

I barely knew him yet I often think of him.

I met Mr. Bob a few years before his death while making monthly visits to Evangeline Oaks nursing home to offer Holy Eucharist. Bob was in his mid 80’s and was born with Cerebral Palsy. He never married, held a job, or drove a car. He lived and was supported by his family for his entire life. His body was wracked, and speech garbled.

In his little corner of the room he shared was a small collection of worn photos of young boys in their little league baseball uniforms. After introducing myself, I asked him about the photos. In his strained effort to speak, he shared his love of baseball and passion for coaching the underprivileged boys in the community.

When we first met, Mr. Bob could walk on his own. He made his way to the activity room for Communion Service. Not long after, he required a walker and soon thereafter could not leave his room without assistance. I began going to his room to offer Eucharist.

Some of the times when I would visit Mr. Bob’s room, his younger brother, Gerald, was visiting. Their devotion toward each other was obvious. There were these random moments where they spoke to each other in a “call and response.” One would say, “Not my will but thine be done!” and the other would respond, “Not my will be thine be done!.” I am not sure which of the brothers would start it or trigger it; maybe pain, doubt, maybe a need for comfort and assurance. I heard this on practically every visit in which his brother Gerald was there. And to this day, I can still replay the call and response in my mind’s eye, “Not my will, but thine be done!”

Here is someone who did not experience the many advantages I had and continue to have in life. I did not pity Mr. Bob but was amazed, “Not my will but thine be done!”

Mr. Bob would light up when I entered the room, especially when seeing the vessels of the Eucharist. We would make our pleasantries and come together for a shared prayer before Eucharist. After a brief moment of silence, we could chit-chat a bit. Despite his extreme disabilities, he was an image of exuberance that always uplifted me and left me eager to see him again.

On one occasion, I entered his room, his bed was empty, and his belongings were gone. I was told he had a stroke and was at the hospital.

Later that day, I went to the hospital. His brother Gerald was with him. Mr. Bob was awake but unable to verbalize. The most he could do was moan and grunt a bit. I told him that he was a holy man and an inspiration to me. And that God’s Holy Spirit would take care of him.

After some time, Mr. Bob returned to the nursing home. He could no longer speak legibly, was bedridden, and kept nourished with a feeding tube. He could no longer receive Eucharist. Instead, I would pray with him aloud or gently sing a church hymn. I would hold the Eucharist above him and affirm his receiving of Christ. I can still see his body animate with a groaning of excitement and spirit.

Before ending the visit, I would gesture a blessing, telling him, “Mr. Bob, you are a blessed and holy man. You still have something to give to the rest of us; thank you!” I may have been the one gesturing a blessing, but I knew it was he who was blessing me. There was a sense in me that I was witnessing a living saint. And I still believe so.

After his stroke, Mr. Bob lived for another eighteen months bedridden, flat on his back and on a feeding tube. Unable to talk and yet deeply communicated.

I attended Mr. Bob’s funeral mass and was able to tell his brother Gerald how inspired I was by his brother. I was the only white man at his funeral.

Aristile “Bob” Lilly (1932 – 2019)

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“The real question before our death, then, is not, how much can I still accomplish, or how much influence can I still exert? but, how can I live so that I can continue to be fruitful when I am no longer here among my family and friends? That question shifts our attention from doing to being. Our doing brings success, but our being bears fruit.

The great paradox of our lives is that we are often concerned about what we do or still can do, but we are most likely to be remembered for who we were. If the Spirit guides our lives—the Spirit of love, joy, peace, gentleness, forgiveness, courage, perseverance, hope, and faith—then that Spirit will not die but will continue to grow from generation to generation“ (Ron Rolheiser).

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Our Greatest Gift: Fruitfulness

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Liberation from Illusions

Intense old man, away in the cellar dark

Treasure a tiny space now and then

without thoughts and consolations.

John of the Cross, 16th century Spanish Carmelite was perceived as a threat by his religious brothers. They kidnapped, imprisoned, and isolated him in a dark closet for nearly a year. The idols in which he had cast his happiness and spiritual consolations from a lifetime of religious devotion abandoned him. Through this crucible of poverty, he had nothing to offer but his consent and trust – in God Alone.

He composes (The Dark Night) in which one is lost, (The Spiritual Canticle) abandoned by a beloved, and (The Living Flame of Love) a Love which burns. John of the Cross writes:

“The Father spoke one word from all eternity and he spoke it in silence, and it is in this silence that we hear it.”

What is this silence?

Author Robert Sardello in “Silence, The Mystery of Wholeness,” writes,

“Silence was here before anything else, and it envelops everything else. Silence is prior to sound, not the cessation of sound, it is already present.

Genesis 1:1 “Now the earth was formless and empty,…”

There is Sacred Silence before human consciousness. Before birth and after death. And sacrament in the Silence of this present moment.

I know this “formless” Silence in my innermost being, shared only with the Divine Other, my Beloved. It is where I am known and not alone.

Contemplative prayer is silence, …unbearable to the “outer man,” and like entering into the Eucharistic liturgy: …accepted only in humility and poverty. (CCC2709-2724)

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I set aside time in my own spiritual cellar. I stand in orans, gently crossing my forehead, “Lord, cleanse my thoughts.” Cross my eyes, “Lord, clarify my sight.” Cross my ears, “Lord, teach me to hear.” I cross my lips, “Lord, cleanse my words.” Finally, cross my heart with both hands, “Lord, heal my heart.”

I sit and recite a personalized version of 1 Corinthians 2:12. “I have not received the spirit of the world but the spirit that is from God, so that I may understand the things freely given me by God.”  I am now ready.

I tap my singing bowl marking the beginning of twenty minutes of contemplative silence.  I intend to sit in silence, consenting to Divine Presence and action in my life. No expectations, …only trust.

I soon begin daydreaming. And by a sacred word, I interrupt mindless chatter and return, …again, …and again. A hundred times, …returning to consent in Silence.

After twenty minutes, my timer sounds. I end with Isaiah, “By waiting and by calm I shall be saved, in quiet and in trust my strength lies.”  I gently open my eyes.

I ask God to keep me aware of Divine Presence. I get up and go about my day.

Christian contemplative prayer is desert spirituality traced to the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the 4th century.

It is a spiritual practice of relinquishing (for a time) our usual capacities of sensing, knowing, and acting. It is an intentional act of humility, poverty, and Eucharistic sacrifice – of laying down the “self” we think we are.

In Sacred Silence, …an interior clearing takes place – making room for new life, not only for oneself but for others as well. I am grateful for the discovery.

As we enter this Lenten journey with Jesus in the desert, may you hear the Word in Silence.

ps. To learn more, google or youtube: Fr. Keating/ Centering Prayer.

To Retire is to Re-draw

My friends and I often talk about our retirement. So I am tickled to play with the French origin and root meaning of the word “retire,” which is to “re-draw.” Give it to the French to speak the language of love and art.

 

For the past two weeks, I’ve been recalling all the names, labels, and role-titles I’ve been called throughout my life. Here’s the good, the bad, the ugly:

boy, child, father, son, husband, devil, leader, follower, teacher, student, scientist, engineer, deacon, sailor, veteran, schitzo, answer-man, guyeaux, guybeau, honey, hubby, friend, holy-man, satan, bull, rock, abuser, Anthony, philosopher, musician, artist, power-user, gentleman, too-religious, arrogant, good-man, neighbor, stranger, impotent, grandfather, professional, homosexual, democrat, republican, independent, Popsie, Popee’, babe, daddio, pops, war-criminal, mr. bingo, even called an extroverted-introvert, or maybe it was an introverted-extravert.

Some built me up, others tore me down. Yet, they are only words and thoughts in the minds of men – occupying the same house of cards.

And so, who do you say I am?

If 50 people know guy, they will think of 50 different guys.
If 50 people see guy, each a different reflected light on the retina.

If 50 people hear guy, each receives different vibrations on the ear.

Even my own thoughts cannot express the totality and truth of Guy.
So what is real and true in the mental constructs of the brain?

Who can deny that they are not more than the function of their own mind, emotions, and bodily sensing? And much more so in what others think.

Sit for a minute, attempting to clear your mind’s activity of its ongoing chatter, and you will discover its difficulty to Silence and for which it cannot enter in the “Cloud of Unknowing” or the “Dark Night of the Soul.” Nor can it hold absolute Truth and Reality, for it can only be self-referential.

Who can I trust to say who I am, or called to be, but the Love of the Divine Creator who brought me into existence?

We are created by love, to live in love, for the sake of love. It is not easy to own and claim love as our true identity and deepest dignity. The only way is to value our yearning, treasure our wanting, embrace our incompleteness, and be overwhelmed by the beauty of our need. Love invites our response. Love needs our response.– Gerald May

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“Make Way!”

Continue reading “To Retire is to Re-draw”

Time to See Anew

How does one become poor in spirit, …answer me that!

Now, when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them. He said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 5:1-3)

Instead of what people say about heaven, Jesus preached it is available to you and me in the “here and now.”  Not simply as some future payback earned for good behavior or good standing in the eyes of men, but by our consent to participate with Divine Presence within each moment of our lives. It is an ongoing invitation and response of free will.

Still, the first beatitude has puzzled me since childhood. Are we not called to be filled with the Spirit?

Hard circumstances of these past few years pointed me to the contemplative traditions of the Church to which I have gained a deeper meaning into what it means to be “poor in spirit.”

I take from the writings of Christian mystics such as John Cassian, Benedict of Nursia, Theresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Meister Ekhart, Teilhard de Chardin, Thomas Merton, and others. I’ve also studied the contemplative practices of Centering Prayer, Christian Meditation, and Mindfulness.

These spiritual masters offer insight into spiritual questions that the modern Church struggles to articulate and much less practice.  The Spanish Carmelite priest, St. John of the Cross (1542-1591) was a close spiritual associate with Theresa of Avila and her efforts at reforming the Carmelite community. They are both considered Doctors of the Church. John of the Cross wrote Dark Night of the Soul, Ascent of Mount Carmel, and the Spiritual Canticle.

After reading St. John’s Spiritual Canticle, I was stunned. Following are the specific lines that left me with a profound sense of personal communion and shared wellspring from which he wrote.

Continue reading “Time to See Anew”

You Fall There

Grateful

For training wheels and guiding hands

Even the fall, for what greater fall avoided?

To no longer need

Still! …beware the bark of the Oak

Alleluia comes the day

Not even wheels required

For every child, there comes a time to remove the training wheels and learn to balance oneself. I was fortunate to have a dad help make that transition.

Growing up, we did not get new bikes. They were used-up bikes given to my dad for us kids. With him being a mechanic, he would fix what needed fixing. They always seemed a bit rickety and oversized.

My big day came one late afternoon when dad returned from work. The route was our shell driveway. To the right was a row of young oak trees. With dad balancing the bike, I climbed to seat myself and find my footing on the pedals. Once ready, off we went with dad convincing me how good I was doing – almost by myself. Sustained by a shared momentum, he decides I am ready, and lets go. I’m wobbling forward and on my way.

The next challenge was the turns on each end of the driveway. I had plenty of space to make wide turns. Or so, I thought. I had “almost” completed one of those full turns, and there in front was the oak tree some twenty feet ahead. It was drawing me like a magnet. For whatever reason, maybe anxiety, I was locked on target and couldn’t steer clear. My euphoria came to a sudden crash. I learned how abrasive the bark of a live oak is to human skin. I took a few moments to recover my senses and check my wounds. I got back on and continued to ride until dark.

This event remains a positive memory. I had the will, courage, and trust to take a step in maturity and liberation, a rite of passage: a movement forward

If one thinks of this earthly life as birth-maturation-death or passage to a destination, then we can see a pattern filled with letting go, falling, getting hurt, (hopefully) recovering, and then moving forward by maturation and by new means. At least in my own life, I have seen this pattern unfold many times.

Just like the oak, there are many inevitable, immovable, and tragic events in our lifetime.

After the crash, I could’ve asked to put the training wheels back on but did not. I could not unlearn the facts or the truth that I could now balance on just two wheels. The training wheels were right in themselves and timely. Still, it was probably their limitations preventing the development of skills necessary to balance and steer away from a coarse and immovable object blocking vision and path.

Think about it. How many times do we fall in life? What are its consequences? What are its choices? How does it change us; do we grow from it, or do we regress, or do we just stagnate?

If we are to journey this life with a desire to mature emotionally and spiritually, it is important to differentiate that even the bicycle (much like everything in the physical world) only has purpose insofar as it helps us to our destination. When it has become an obstacle to that purpose, it is best to seek what is higher.

Today, the oak tree still stands. Its girth is much larger, and its bark remains coarse. There remains some beauty about it, although it is being choked by nearby oaks and much starved of ground nutrients and sunlight. Not sure it will be around in another sixty years.

I was fortunate to grow up having a dad. I learned much from him, but I often think my dad could have taught his son a bit more about manhood. Maybe, I would have avoided some of the typical missteps that most young boys make in their maturation. And then again, perhaps he did, but I wasn’t listening.

Perhaps, I needed to encounter that oak tree and its consequences to grow so to detach from unnecessary appurtenances and appearances? Maybe it is in falling where we cross the threshold to gain eternal wisdom.

I leave you with a thirteen minute video from Fr. Richard Rohr speaking on letting go; False ego-Self/ True Soul-Self.

ps. I recognize that some kids never got a bike and never learned to ride. That may have been an unfortunate circumstance of your upbringing but it doesn’t mean you have to carry that loss your entire life. Buy your own then receive from those who have been given.

Could you not discern the Grace and gain its eternal Wisdom?

The Last 2%

Bull

Gore me if you must,

for once you’ve had your play

my soul will shake loose

with its sweet nectar.

In the Old Testament, the bull symbolized the pagan god Baal. The bull and its violent act of goring are metaphors for much in this world, which destroys life.

The butterfly is a Greek symbol of the soul: that which gives life. Its metaphor represents life (caterpillar), death (chrysalis), and resurrected life (butterfly). It also represents our Christian life in the model of Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection.

Soul – Our Truest Self

“At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us.

It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our sonship. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billion points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely.” (Merton)

Grief is too precious to waste

What follows is a deeply personal letter I wrote some twenty-two years ago to a small group of men and women who were experiencing deep loss and grief. With just a few minor changes, it is just as relevant today as it was back then.

I would like to share a quote that I recently read, ” My experience of grief is that you can take little sips of it, like very fine wine, and let go of it”.

It is at this place I find myself, and I feel it proper to no longer have an ‘active role in the Beginning Experience ministry. I have not perfectly overcome all the hurts but I carry with me: acceptance of the past, forgiveness of myself and my ex-spouse, trust in God’s Love for me and my children, and a personal freedom to live my life in the present and love again. I am confident that when this time arrives for each of us, it is truly “the good news”.

Even though I am comfortable with this decision, leaving the team is not easy for me. I have been blessed, immeasurably, during my time in this ministry.

When I reflect back over the past two years and consider what my relationship with each of you has meant to me, and my children, I thank God, especially … for bringing each of you into my life. These past two years have been an awesome period in my life. I have grown emotionally and spiritually and it is impossible for me to think of you separate from this.

I have experienced, for the first time, a kind of intimacy that I believe only reveals itself when two of God’s people, are willing to open themselves, reach out, and share themselves and their vulnerability with each other. To me, this is agape love.

Each one of you is a very special person. Participating in this ministry requires a willingness to look within oneself with the courage to face what we find, and share it with others. It is a giving of self that is difficult. It brings us closer to our humanity and to our God. It is a personal character trait that, I believe, fulfills at least in part God’s call to each of us. I personally admire each of you.

The phone calls, personal conversations, the cards, and most especially the hugs, have kept me lifted up during the most difficult time in my life and it will always be remembered.

The fellowship, shared in small group, hold a special place in my heart. I feel an extra-special relationship with each of you. I am grateful that you gave me your trust. Your thoughts expressed in your warm fuzzies were kind. I read them from time to time. It helps me to remember you and it never fails to lift me up. Thank you.

Once when I was sick in bed with the flu, a team member took it upon herself to prepare and send me some soup. When it arrived, her act of kindness and concern touched my heart and brought a tear to my eyes. Her act reflects the good and caring person that she is. Beyond the physical nourishment of the soup, it helped me realize that I am worthy of being cared for. I would say her name, but she knows who she is. Thank You.

To the special person that I have often asked for help in critiquing my talks for the weekend, thank you for your directness, honesty, and being there when I needed you.

To the two facilitators who invited me to the team. I have foremost given my best to follow the vision of this spiritual peer ministry. Without your invitation, these last two years would have been very different for me. I came to you at a time when I was struggling with many personal doubts. You helped me see and accept something about myself that is good.

Lastly, I want to thank all the clergy who involve themselves in this ministry. Their expression of humility, love, and commitment to the Lord Jesus Christ, have been an inspiration for me.

To my brothers and sisters, It is my prayer that each of you continues to give of yourself in ministry and always be reminded that our strength and healing lie in Jesus. May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

A Community of Saints

We do not walk alone. Amongst us, there is a mystical community of saints, a community of souls who convoke healing by giving and receiving compassion in this valley of tears. It is a much deeper meaning of the Church. And, if you are reading this, you are in this communion.

We are body and soul and do not escape the angst of many (small) deaths throughout life. Up until our final breath, recovery remains a hard walk that requires mostly inner work of “letting go” of illusion in exchange for more profound truths. Once received and honored, one can know his or her “truest” identity to experience joy and be a source of life for others: in the divine image. I know of no other way to satisfy that longing that we all carry in our hearts.

“Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know.” P. Chodron

I’ve reached a point where I cannot overcome that remaining 2% of angst that life has brought me. It is a place to which has no rationale or justice. In other words, the bull has finally tired and shaken me loose.

I can now join with Christ on the cross and give that remaining remnant of angst to the Supreme Source and Giver of Life for the promise of new life.

This is my path forward and the faith and hope in Jesus Christ to which I will cling.

Distractions along the Way

The first time the term Christian (which literally means “Christ Ones”) was used in describing followers of Jesus Christ was in Antioch, Syria (Acts 11:26). 

Prior to this time, followers of Jesus Christ were simply known as “people of the Way” (Acts 9:2, 24:14) in reference to their lifestyle, i.e., the way of life they lived.   In other words, it was their lifestyle that identified them as being followers of Jesus Christ, not their words.

The featured image above, is the product of an art class assignment. The assignment was to construct a collage by cutting up various pieces of prior art that I had done for the class. I took one of my favorite artist, Norman Rockwell’s self-portrait piece as inspiration.

I’ve titled my collage “Distractions along the Way. It is a self-reflection of the spiritual journey through life. The left side represents various distractions this world offers each of us. The right side represents three stages of the spiritual life. I will offer a basic reading then conclude with thoughts pulled from other sources.

  • Eaten Apple – succumbing to worldly temptations
  • Head in a fishbowl – cannot escape the world and all it holds
  • Book titles/symbology – 7: Seven deadly sins, Superman: male super-ego, Licit/Illicit (Addictive) Drugs: Caffeine, Tobacco, Salt, Alcohol, Marijuana, Cocaine, LSD, etc. Dictionary/Music: ie. false words. Money: as a root of evil.
  • Sailor cap: join the Navy and see “the world.”
  • TV/Computer: the world’s reach into your home, at our fingertips.
  • Thought Bubble: corruptions of heart and mind (the flesh/ego)
  • Demon: Evil in “the world.”
  • Skeleton: the world’s (mis) representation of one’s true self.

Three commonly described stages of the spiritual life: Purgative, Illuminative, and Unitive.

  • Encircled Dove – Representative of the Triune Godhead
  • Icon of Christ – True Man/True God, Image of self-reference or formation

When I reflect through various choices I’ve made through life, I find both ignorant foolishness and fortunate wisdom. I suppose this is life. I leave with the words of Julian of Norwich.

“First we must fall, and then we recover from that fall – and both are the mercy of God.”

“Your God would never punish you for being a human being: this life itself is your penance, she reminds you. But it is also more than that: it is a crucible for transformation. Each trial, every loss, is an opportunity for you to meet suffering with love and make it an offering, a prayer. The minute you lift your pain like a candle, darkness vanishes and mercy comes rushing in to heal you.“

As we continue our journey “along the Way,” please accept my encouragement.

What does God Say? (Que dit Dieu?)

The featured image is the title page from my grandmother’s 100-year-old french prayer book titled, “L’Ange Conducteur Dans La Devotion Chretienne.”

Its title is loosely translated as “Guidance of the Angel in Christian Devotion.” The original author is Jacque Coret (1631-1721) of Liege Belgium. This particular 40th edition was likely printed during the 1920s.

My paternal grandmother preparing chicken at a family Easter BBQ (1970)

My grandmother passed in 1974 from breast cancer at 69 years of age. I was seventeen years old. We affectionately called her Mom-mom. Her prayerbook includes the full range of Catholic prayers, a few personal notations, various prayer cards, and newspaper obits.

I don’t recall ever having a religious or spiritual conversation with her. Yet, her obit says she was a member of the Saint Ann Society, Bonne Mort Society, and League of the Sacred Heart. It seems she was a prayerful woman. And like many of her generation in south Louisiana, she would have learned her Catholic faith from community and family in french.

I was brought up with the same Catholic prayers, doctrine, and dogma as my grandmother, except in English. Like my grandmother, my faith foundation was set up by family and church tradition, but times have changed. And being able to look back causes me to think about how time, language, and custom evolve our understanding and practice in matters of personal faith.

It seems that personal differences derive from man, not God. And begs the question: To what extent are our belief systems conditioned from personal biases apart from what is freely given by YWHW?

If you and I were born in a different place and time, how would our faith or relationship with God differ?

The first written forms of the Old Testament were in Hebrew. The New Testament was in Greek. And Jesus’ language was Aramaic. The bible we read today is a modern English translation. On top of all of that, it has been thousands of years since the actual events took place.

So, anything beyond one’s personal, intimate, and direct experience with the “Divine Source of Life” is a translation of some sorts. Even the gospels of the New Testament which we consider as inspired are written by (unknown) human authors with a specific intent and audience.

Back to the prayerbook: I will share a few images and translations from my grandmother’s prayer book and close with a personal reflection.

PRIERE DU MATIN (morning prayer)

Acte de Foi

Act of Faith

English Translation: Eternal and Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God in three persons: I believe in you because you are infinitely good and faithful to your promises; I adore you and I love you with all my heart because you are supremely kind, and I love my neighbor as me for the love of you.

AVIS SALUTAIRES (beneficial opinions)

Sanctifier la Journee

To Sanctify the Day

At the time of your waking up so regulated, that nothing, as much as possible, is capable of disturbing it. When you wake up raise your god; pray while living there; then say your ordinary prayers, and plan for any opportunities you may have to offend God during the day, so that you may be on your guard to avoid them.

Attend to Mass with the necessary provisions to honor the holy Mysteries, and to profit from it for your salvation. Choose the prayers you should say there. The best are the ones that unite us with the Priest, or rather with Jesus Christ, who is the invisible Priest.

Give, if possible, half an hour, or a quarter of an hour to meditation on a truth of Christianity or on the Passion of Jesus Christ. Learn how to do this exercise. Perhaps the best is that given to us by healthy Francois de Sales in the second part of his introduction to the devout life, or of his Philotee. If you understand the importance of meditation, always find the time to do it, and if you do it, you will soon learn to do it easily.

Give some time to read a good book every day. Read to the presence of God who speaks to you yourself. Penetrate yourself of what you read, taste it, apply it to yourself, and ask him the graces to execute the good desires, that he inspires you by this reading, which is a kind of meditation, and takes the place of a sermon when you can’t attend.

Raise your Heart to God at the beginning of each action, offer it to him and make frequent and familiar use of the prayers which are short aspirations or affectionate impulses that bring to God: Lord, I hope in you … I love you with all my heart … Forgive me my God, the fault that I have just committed. Saint Francois de Sales, that these aspirations support in the absence of all other orations, and that all the others do not supersede the defect of these. They can be done anytime, anywhere, and in the midst of bigger occupations.

PRIERE DU SOIR (evening prayer)

Metton-nous en la presence de Dieu, et adorons-le

Let us put ourselves in the presence of God and worship him.

English Translation: My God, I appear before you, at the end of this day, to adore you through Jesus Christ your very dear Son, and to thank you in his name for all the graces I have received from you.

My God, sovereign judge of men, who, by infinite mercy, does not want the sinner to perish, but that he avoids by penance your fearful judgments; I humbly present myself to you, to give you an account of this day. Give me, Lord, the lights don’t I need to know my faults, and the pain necessary to hate them well.

Societe de l’ANGE-GARDIEN

“Je suis la resurrection et la vie”

Funeral card of my grandmother’s brother, Weston Clause, and his obit glued to the back cover of her prayer book. She was 25 when he died from meningitis. My father was born a year later and was given his late uncle’s namesake. Below the obit, she noted her step-grandmother’s death.

Personal Reflection

“We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the things freely given us by God.” (1 Corinthians 2:12)

My grandmother’s prayerbook contains nearly 500 pages and over 40,000 words of someone else’s thoughts. May God bless them.

I am grateful for the faith formation by my parents and grandparents. It gave me a foundation and starting point. All was proper for the moment but I am no longer a child.

Trust in God, “as the source of all that is life,” – is to be lived in the present.

If one accepts a faith of redemption and grace, the divine relationship is to be lived in its present moment, not in the past nor the future. There is no need to build bigger barns to keep past thoughts, words, or actions.

Only gratitude and surrender required.

“The truth of the matter is that God is speaking to us all the time in all the circumstances of life. Every work that we undertake, every experience we undergo, every encounter and relationship we are involved in is a manifestation of God; revealing something of Creator and creation, speaking out of its own depths, in all of them.” (Cyprian Smith, OSB)

Today, my prayer is less vocal so that I may listen more intently to “things freely given.” Because of it there has been a reordering of my relationship with God, the larger Body of Christ, and with myself. This “free gift” requires willingness and readiness to receive. And a desire for change not “outside of self,” but within.

No words can adequately describe the personal encounter in the soul. It is the most private place of intimacy with our Beloved. The most I could do is a poetic reflection titled “Centering,” found under the tab “Conjectures.”

Que Dieu soit avec vous (May God be with you)

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