Carmelite -

Intoxicated Soul

At an early age, I was intrigued by the guitar.

While in college, I bought a nice guitar but nothing came out of it. I sold it after getting married. Following my divorce at 38, I was driving through a small Louisiana town and saw a “Going Out of Business” sign at a music store.

Out of curiosity, I decided to stop.

And walked out with a guitar thinking, “if not now, then never.”

About a year later, I had learned basic chords and skills. I decided to extend my learning in front of people. Gratefully, I was accepted into a very forgiving church choir.

It took a risk to expose and practice my spirituality and prayer life from under the proverbial “bushel basket.” This is no small feat for an introverted personality in a dominant social culture where it “ain’t manly” to show such things.

What transpired since that simple beginning in 1998 contains more words than I am sure you are willing to read but I will say “it brought personal and spiritual transformation – in ways I could not have imagined.

Song became my prayer and soul exposed.

I no longer sing or play in front of groups. Yet there remains a spirit of melody and lyric deeply embedded in the expression of my soul to my Beloved. I sing sometimes silently and sometimes out loud – as my thoughts, heart, and spirit prompt. It is a gift given and received.

How are we to express our soul’s longing and consummation for what cannot be satisfied with finite things of this earth?

Continue reading “Intoxicated Soul”

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”

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.

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”

How much is a soul worth?

Mansions 1, 2, and 3

“God calls to us in countless little ways all the time. [Even] Through illness and suffering and through sorrow he calls to us. To a truth glimpsed fleetingly in a state of prayer he calls to us. No matter how half hearted such insights may be. God rejoices whenever we learn what he is trying to teach us.” (Teresa)

Teresa’s metaphor of the Interior Castle “with many rooms,” points to our soul. The seven mansions allegorize our interior or spiritual journey of movement or maturity to full(er) union with the Beloved.

In general, mansions 1, 2, and 3 reflect our underlying habitual tendency to be aware of and responsive to God’s sustaining presence in our life and how we bear witness to that daily: in how we treat ourselves and how we treat other people. How we bear witness – becomes the earthly visibility of our mansion.

Following is a recent experience that illustrates (for me) these teachings.

Last week, I took a walk through my neighborhood. As I rounded a turn I saw up the road three young girls, about 10 years of age, at the end of their driveway. They were jumping up and down with joyful excitement. There was a table and one of the girls was holding up a poster. From the distance it looked like a lemonade stand. It is not a busy road and they just saw their first and likely only customer. My first response was to look for a side street that would allow me to cut away. There was none. It was either walk forward or make an about-face. As much as I enjoy engaging with young children, something inside did not want to deal with these three excited young girls who were doing something that apparently meant a great deal to them. I chose or more aptly put, resigned to continue forward.

The sign read: LEMONADE: $1

As I reluctantly approached I asked, “What are you girls selling?” Lemonade, they replied. I told them I wasn’t carrying any money. They said, “It doesn’t matter would you like some? I really didn’t but thought of the effect of refusing such a simple and generous gift from a child. I said, Sure, What kind of lemonade is it? Pink lemonade they said. The first girl grabbed the cup, the second handled the ice, and the third poured the lemonade. They had prepared their business plan.

After taking my first sip of lemonade, I asked them what school they went to and learned that they went to the same elementary school that I attended some 50+ years ago. It was to me an interesting coincidence and segue to a fun chat. I was absorbed in the joyful spirit of those three young girls. Soon the mom came out and we spoke a bit longer and then resumed my walk home – sipping on my cold pink lemonade.

Once I got home, I had to reflect upon the subtle nature of this invitation to divine grace – offered through the innocent play of children. Sadly, had there been a convenient way out, I would have taken it. Which prompted me to reflect and to ask the Spirit of Wisdom – what inside of me prompted me to seek for a convenient escape. What was God hoping to teach me? I patiently await enlightenment while grateful that (once again) I received the Beloved’s blessing and gift – in spite of my own will.

Today, as I complete this writing, a bit over a week has past and I write a followup to the above:

Last week, I almost turned my back on three children at play but did not. Because of this, my soul was absorbed into a youthful innocence and holy joy. I thank my Beloved.

This week someone turned their back on me. I was on the receiving end of another institutional disregard for truth, justice, and my soul. Just as I had experienced at the lemonade stand, my soul was absorbed into a divine truth that shed great light but instead resulted in a cry of anguish. Its truth was not sentimental and as I began to recover and (re) affirm my preference for truth over illusion. I offered my gratitude to the Beloved.

The Beloved and the chaos of this “world” both invite and call for our souls. It is without escape but in free will – I am to choose the depth of complicity.

“We can only learn to know ourselves and do what we can – namely, surrender our will and fulfill God’s will in us.” — St. Teresa of Ávila

ps. next blog – 4th mansion

The Interior Castle, St Teresa

“I myself can come up with nothing as magnificent as the beauty and amplitude of a soul.”

Teresa of Avila, from The Interior Castle

Following is the introduction from The Interior Castle by Mirabai Starr titled, “The Calling.”

There is a secret place.

A radiant sanctuary. As real as your own kitchen. More real than that. Constructed of the purest elements. Overflowing with the ten thousand beautiful things. Worlds within worlds. Forests, rivers. Velvet coverlets thrown over featherbeds, fountains bubbling beneath a canopy of stars. Bountiful forests, universal libraries. A wine cellar offering an intoxication so sweet you will never be sober again. A clarity so complete you will never again forget.

This magnificent refuge is inside you. Enter. Shatter the darkness that shrouds the doorway. Step around the poisonous vipers that slither at your feet, attempting to throw you off your course. Be bold. Be humble. Put away the incense and forget the incantations they taught you. Ask no permission from the authorities. Slip away. Close your eyes and follow your breath to the still place that leads to the invisible path that leads you home.

Listen. Softly, the One you love is calling. Listen. At first, you will only hear traces of his voice. Love letters he drops for you in hiding places. In the sound of your baby laughing, in your boyfriend telling you a dream, in a book about loving-kindness, in the sun dipping down below the horizon and a peacock’s tail of purple and orange clouds unfolding behind it, in the nameless sorrow that fills your heart when you wake in the night and remember that the world has gone to war and you are powerless to break up the fight. Let the idle chatter between friends drop down to what matters. Listen. Later his voice will come closer. A whisper you’re almost sure is meant for you fading in and out of the cacophony of thoughts, clearer in the silent space between them. Listen. His call is flute music, far away. Coming closer.

Be brave and walk through the country of your own wild heart. Be gentle and know that you know nothing. Be mindful and remember that every moment can be a prayer. Melting butter, scrambling eggs, lifting fork to mouth, praising God. Typing your daughter’s first short story, praising God. Losing your temper and your dignity with someone you love, praising God. Balancing ecstasy with clear thinking, self-control with self-abandon. Be still. Listen. Keep walking.

What a spectacular kingdom you have entered! Befriending the guards and taming the lions at the gates. Sliding through a crack in the doorway on your prayer rug. Crossing the moat between this world and that, walking on water if you have to, because this is your rightful place. That is your Beloved reclining in the innermost chamber, waiting for you, offering wine from a bottle with your crest on the label. Explore. Rest if you have to, but don’t go to sleep. Head straight for his arms.

And when you have dismissed the serpents of vanity and greed, conquered the lizards of self-importance, and lulled the monkey mind to sleep, your steps will be lighter. When you have given up everything to make a friend a cup of tea and tend her broken heart, stood up against the violation of innocent children and their fathers and mothers, made conscious choices to live simply and honor the earth, your steps will be lighter. When you have grown still on purpose while everything around you is asking for your chaos, you will find the doors between every room of this interior castle thrown open, the path home to your true love unobstructed after all.

No one else controls access to this perfect place. Give yourself your own unconditional permission to go there. Absolve yourself of missing the mark again and again. Believe the incredible truth that the Beloved has chosen for his dwelling place the core of your own being because that is the single most beautiful place in all of creation. Waste no time.

Enter the center of your soul.

___________________________

ps. I have just completed the autobiography of Teresa of Avila and now continuing the contemplative inquiry of this great mystic and teacher with another of her major works: The Interior Castle translated by Mirabai Starr. The book is listed under the recommendation section.

The featured artwork is a piece I completed today through motivation, inspiration, and honor of my mother.

Avila

“I’d love to see what would happen if all those people who think I’m so holy could witness this insanity. I actually feel compassion for my pour soul when she’s in this state. I see that she’s in bad company, and I long to set her free. I turn to the Lord. “When, my God?” I ask him, “When will all my faculties come together to enjoy you at the same time? Do not allow my soul to become fragmented any longer. Each shard seems to pull me in a different direction.”

From the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila

For the past month, I have been reading the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila. It is a very human story. This morning I came across her words above. It mirrors my own reflections and of how my own life is a constant searching, or longing for wholeness.

For me, this past year was a painful loss of spouse and sense of identity. Perhaps the loss was nothing more than imaginative fantasy. I do not know. Regardless, there is a re-learning, a (re) ordering of life and much of what was: is no longer.

I do not think that I am alone or any different. We all experience failure or loss throughout our life. Sometimes minor, sometimes major, sometimes joyful, sometimes painful. Simply, …life happens to each of us.

Whether by choice or force, so much of the spiritual life (it seems) is about letting go of our attachments. So when it happens, I hang on to the hope and promises of new life that follow.

I do not care to change but rather go deeper into self- knowledge and self-acceptance of who “I am” in God. This is one aspect of why I am so much enjoying the autobiography of Teresa of Avila with her openness and thoughts on the contemplative life. She speaks of her struggle as a person whose life is unfolding.

Teresa likened her soul to a castle, with seven interior mansions, all shining with the brilliance of diamonds (hence the featured image). We do not move through these interior mansions of our soul in some chronological order as if we complete one in order to move on to the next. We circulate through them throughout our human life.

She speaks of three levels of prayer (Recollection, Quiet, Union) which parallel the purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages.

At 61, it seems as though I have spent my entire life striving to know who I am. And now I am back at the beginning stage (or mansion) of “know thyself,” again. Do we ever truly know ourselves or does life keep pushing ourselves to “know thyself,” again, and again, … and again. I suppose that I could just ignore my identity or role in this universe, or how the external world sees me. Or is this the universal journey of us all???

Here are Teresa’s (very brief) thoughts of the seven spaces to navigate the various shades of darkness leading to the light.

Prayer of Recollection:

1 – Cultivating self-knowledge

2 – Spiritual confirmations, affirmations, consolations to stay on path

3 – Honing of spiritual skills, insights, self-discipline in contemplative prayer

4 – Our hearts remain open, in spite of ourselves. We cannot fill out the holy mystery with our own minds, intellect. There is a greater awareness of “heart-mind.”

Prayer of Quiet:

5 – We experience a kind of dying to our false self. We give ourselves to the Beloved. There is a bridal mysticism. There is a resting in love

Prayer of Union:

6 – Soul enters into ecstatic suffering and exquisite pain. We come to know God with God’s own mind, to love God with God’s own heart. We look through the eyes of Love

7 – Soul experiences union with God. It is the beginning, not the end. The love is consummated. There is no separation. The only task, or invitation, is to be with your Beloved.

For now, I will conclude with the following paragraph from the book.

“The scattering of the faculties happens to me often. Sometimes it seems obvious to me that this is the cause of most of my health problems. I also think that the legacy of original sin has something to do with our inability to enjoy all blessings in an integral way. Plus my own transgressions exacerbate the problem. If I had not been so unconscious in the past, I would be more integrated now.”

(These little snippets from Teresa do not offer much depth. I have listed an excellent translation by Mirabi Starr of Teresa’s autobiography in the book recommendation).

ps. Feel free to share any comments.