As I recline on the deep salmon-colored sofa in Agnus Dei Hermitage, I look out onto thick snow blowing from west to east across the pond, spikey trees muted in the background. Earlier, a colorful train lopped by. Now it is total solitude and silence.
In a couple of hours I will drive to St. Joseph's Hospital where our Serra Club will have Mass at the chapel and then a luncheon meeting. But for now, I am trying to gaze interiorly upon the patience of Christ. It is not unlike the way the snow is blowing across and down.
I have a picture, a detail from some famous painting, of Jesus' face. I found it several years ago in a magazine, and I have framed it because it seems to tell me most of Jesus' patience in suffering. He looks in the direction, across and down, like the snow falling, and a tear trickles down each cheek of His face. A crown of thorns pierces His head like a cap, and blood drips down from His head. the picture is cropped to just this image. His eyes are compassionate and quiet, filled with patience and silence.
My spiritual father yesterday spoke to me of Tanquerey and of the need to gaze upon some attribute of God, to learn the Prayer of Simplicity. He says I am in the simple unitive way and must develop this simple way of praying, which is a form of contemplation. Another descriptor is to adore Him. Somehow, though, my Irish Da's way of saying that one must gaze upon God helps me know how to arrive at adoration. Gazing and loving = adoration.
He also spoke of the need for forgiveness.
So this morning, in the Office of Readings, I found St. Aelred's writing on forgiveness and of contempating Christ's patience to be the assignment from the Holy Spirit for this very day.
I am gazing upon the patience of Christ, with much love for His patience, with desiring this very same patience, and in adoration of He Who Is Patient Love.
In a couple of hours I will drive to St. Joseph's Hospital where our Serra Club will have Mass at the chapel and then a luncheon meeting. But for now, I am trying to gaze interiorly upon the patience of Christ. It is not unlike the way the snow is blowing across and down.
I have a picture, a detail from some famous painting, of Jesus' face. I found it several years ago in a magazine, and I have framed it because it seems to tell me most of Jesus' patience in suffering. He looks in the direction, across and down, like the snow falling, and a tear trickles down each cheek of His face. A crown of thorns pierces His head like a cap, and blood drips down from His head. the picture is cropped to just this image. His eyes are compassionate and quiet, filled with patience and silence.
My spiritual father yesterday spoke to me of Tanquerey and of the need to gaze upon some attribute of God, to learn the Prayer of Simplicity. He says I am in the simple unitive way and must develop this simple way of praying, which is a form of contemplation. Another descriptor is to adore Him. Somehow, though, my Irish Da's way of saying that one must gaze upon God helps me know how to arrive at adoration. Gazing and loving = adoration.
He also spoke of the need for forgiveness.
So this morning, in the Office of Readings, I found St. Aelred's writing on forgiveness and of contempating Christ's patience to be the assignment from the Holy Spirit for this very day.
I am gazing upon the patience of Christ, with much love for His patience, with desiring this very same patience, and in adoration of He Who Is Patient Love.
