I have received your letter and accept retirement from your obligation of service.
When we last met you said, “You’ve done nothing wrong,” and “it was not our intent to harm you.” Also, your most recent letter writes an appreciation for me doing “everything asked of me.” Nevertheless, it puzzles me why you continue harm against my person and for the greater community; Especially since Jesus’ teaching on truth, justice, and mercy is clear.
I asked only to be returned to “good standing.” It was, and remains, my invitation of Reconciliation and a way of repairing the harm done. It is the same Sacrament you preach and I am saddened you chose not to accept.
You reason that married, widowed, or divorced people would not accept a cleric who had experienced the same. Holy Wisdom tells me it is these very people who by their own lived experience of marriage in both grace and the cross; possess the necessary compassion. Just think, …compassionate care.
For the entirety of my 60+ years, I’ve held the belief that the institution “at least” strives to resemble its founder and mission. Sadly, in these past ten years, I’ve experienced much of what “NOT” Christ has called his Church to be. And for this, my conscience will not allow me to be silent or complicit.
My passage of tears has gifted greater clarity, trust, and gratitude in God Alone; as the sole source and arbiter of holiness.
And through this dark night, comes deeper gratitude and consent in Divine Presence and Action as the sole formation of my heart, mind, and soul. My sacramental identity and its service to the eucharistic liturgy and Communion of Souls remain.
So, in this contemplation, the Divine Indwelling, calls out:
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?
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
“Every moment of every event of every man’s life on earth plants something in his soul.”
Thomas Merton
Several decades ago, I came across this old wisdom tale. it continues to influence me especially when difficult things happen. It’s underlying message points to what it means to be a contemplative.
One day in late summer, an old farmer was working in his field with his old sick horse. The farmer felt compassion for the horse and desired to lift its burden. So he left his horse loose to go the mountains and live out the rest of its life.
Soon after, neighbors from the nearby village visited, offering their condolences and said, “What a shame. Now your only horse is gone. How unfortunate you are!. You must be very sad. How will you live, work the land, and prosper?” The farmer replied: “Who knows? We shall see”.
Two days later the old horse came back now rejuvenated after meandering in the mountainsides while eating the wild grasses. He came back with twelve new younger and healthy horses which followed the old horse into the corral.
Word got out in the village of the old farmer’s good fortune and it wasn’t long before people stopped by to congratulate the farmer on his good luck. “How fortunate you are!” they exclaimed. You must be very happy!” Again, the farmer softly said, “Who knows? We shall see.”
At daybreak on the next morning, the farmer’s only son set off to attempt to train the new wild horses, but the farmer’s son was thrown to the ground and broke his leg. One by one villagers arrived during the day to bemoan the farmer’s latest misfortune. “Oh, what a tragedy! Your son won’t be able to help you farm with a broken leg. You’ll have to do all the work yourself, How will you survive? You must be very sad”. they said. Calmly going about his usual business the farmer answered, “Who knows? We shall see”
Several days later a war broke out. The Emperor’s men arrived in the village demanding that young men come with them to be conscripted into the Emperor’s army. As it happened the farmer’s son was deemed unfit because of his broken leg. “What very good fortune you have!!” the villagers exclaimed as their own young sons were marched away. “You must be very happy.” “Who knows? We shall see!”, replied the old farmer as he headed off to work his field alone.
As time went on the broken leg healed but the son was left with a slight limp. Again the neighbors came to pay their condolences. “Oh what bad luck. Too bad for you”! But the old farmer simply replied; “Who knows? We shall see.”
As it turned out the other young village boys had died in the war and the old farmer and his son were the only able bodied men capable of working the village lands. The old farmer became wealthy and was very generous to the villagers. They said: “Oh how fortunate we are, you must be very happy”, to which the old farmer replied, “Who knows? We shall see!”
ps.
It is human nature to label things and experiences in life then judge it either good or bad. It’s how our minds tend to function. Contemplative thinking requires a conscious effort to avoid what I (or others) judge as good or bad. If we believe in a transcendent, loving Creator, then we can be secure that we are simply not the final determinant of Eternal Truth, or Reality. Instead:
We hold faith in the love of God which seeks us in every situation, and seeks our good.
And when I fail to keep joy and grief on equal footing in my journey of transformation toward who the Beloved created me to be, …I am to catch and remind myself:For it is God’s love that warms me in the sun and God’s love that sends the cold rain.
“Who knows? We shall see!”
May I always seek and choose hard truth over lies, illusions and fantasies.
Have you ever experienced something so devastating in life that once past the immediate pain was able to recognize the gift of new life and the sweet security of God’s insight and wisdom?
