Hermits are to drop what they are doing when an opportunity for hospitality arrives. Of course, this would include not dropping the spiritual focus of the hermit's life and existence.
The youngest visitor to Agnus Dei has been here three days. She is 15 months old, had never been to a church, has not been taught prayers or seen people pray. She is at an age in which the instinct to testing the negatives has begun. The hermit has tried to drop the usual routine yet maintain the solitude and peace. The hermit and the guest went to Mass two mornings, with the second Mass being difficult; the child became quite active.
The hermit recognizes weakness in the physical endurance. Patience is challenged. An added long-term sinus problem has lent to the exhaustion, in addition to the chronic pain. There has been no attempt, though, to busy the child with going here or there. Frankly, the hermit is taxed with the lifting and getting the child in and out of the car seat!
But the child has had adjustment, as well. The child is used to the stimulation of two parents, much activity, much conversation between mother and father, television and day care, driving to and from, and errands. Plus, there are far more toys at home.
The hermit has maintained the same stillness, as much as possible. There develop times of challenge: after two days the child tests and challenges right and wrong: authority. At those points, the hermit's patience is shaken. Attempts to distract the child fail; a stern word is used: "No!". The power struggle ensues.
How do such small children develop a taste for wrong-doing--evil in a modified form? Is it our original sin? Is it our instinct to test and to desire that which we have come to learn we are not to have or touch?
The hermit's inner peace is increasingly challenged as the visit continues. Memories of the past taunt the peace...memories of rearing three children, solo, and in ill-health. The feelings of inadequacy, of knowing patience wore far too thin, of wishing things could have been different, could have been better, easier, calmer.
The memories extend to childhood and the hermit's grandmother. How did she manage with so many grandchildren, and often alone with them, and older than the hermit but without the physical pain.
The grandmother's patience is recalled, and the realization of such self-sacrifice for years as a widow, and of living with various adult children and their children.
The hermit attempted no other tasks during the toddler's visit. On the final morning, when the hermit had fed the child, to the brim, the hermit needed to eat. The child did not like this slight lack of attention; the hermit firmly explained that it was only fair now, that the grandparent got ten minutes to eat a rather hardened bran muffin adn drink a cup of coffee!
Later, when the child decided to pull large books off a shelf--something she knew was not allowed and had not attempted previously--the hermit snapped the books back, replaced them, and realized that one must be as one is, and this hermit does not tolerate belligerence, not in even a toddler.
G.K. Chesterton writes of boundaries, of borders and frames, in his book Orthodoxy. Much of life has framework, and the boundaries help focus the vision and bring about greater appreciation and beauty in what is seen and experienced. He uses an example of a stage. What would a performance be without the boundaries of the stage, the framework on four sides and back, and no curtains? How could the eyes and mind focus appreciably on the performance?
The hermit learned something of boundaries from the youngest visitor to Agnus Dei. The hermitage remains as it is, in its function and purpose, its designation as a house of protection, respite, prayer and spiritual succor. Visitors enter into the hermitage much as a patron views a play. Once within the framework, the purpose is as within that framework. The visitors enter into the hermit's world, within reasonable expectation, age considered.
Yet, the young one did adapt to quite a change from her world of two busy and active parents, two dogs and a cat, television, day care with oodles of children and stimulation and much noise, and errands here and there. At Agnus Dei there was just the hermit grandparent, scenery as seen from large windows, two experiences at Mass, one trip to the grocery, the silence of Lake Immaculata, and the noise of an occasional train and a rumbling earth mover. The hermit demonstrated prayers before meals and at bedtime, and the little one saw for the first time, pictures of Jesus and was told "That is Jesus" and "Jesus loves you." She saw many religious sacramentals about the hermitage. It was a time of taking it in.
The hermit learned that the hermit does have limits as to what is allowed and not allowed in behavior of guests, even the tiniest. These limits or boundaries are expectations of manners and of learning that some things are not to be touched and other things are. Distraction can be a good thing, but sometimes a rebuke is acceptable, as well.
Do we not have expectations from Our Heavenly Father? Did not Our Lord, as a human child come from Heaven, learn also from Mary, the boundaries of earthly interactions? And that peace reigns in order and cooperation, in good and not evil, and very much thrives in the Order of the Present Moment. Memories and wonderings, past and future, remove the soul from the peace at hand.
The experience of this youngest visitor to Agnus Dei lends itself to the Advent Season, now approaching. It is a time to bring Christ to the young one, and to take Christ to the parents through the young one, and to all who enter Agnus Dei, and to all to whom the hermit meets when going out. It is a period of gestation in which the hermit learns the way of the present, of how Christ will BE in situations of serving guests, of interacting with guests, of living within the framework of Christ-life: learning, waiting in patience for the growth, loving even the fumbles in attempts to be Christ to and in the present, for others--even wee others.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Love and Peace
The hermit has been pondering peace in its relationship to love--and love and its relationship to peace.
It seemed as if in many instances, peace could be interchanged with love. Peace is spoken more frequently in the liturgy of the Mass than the word "love."
Yet, the hermit asked the VG and another priest, and a friend, and the attributes of peace are being distinguished from those of love.
The VG said they are different, and he thinks love is more active and peace not so active. I asked another priest, and he had much to say. He pointed out that peace is an interior disposition of the soul, and that it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit and comes by the Holy Spirit. He said that love is not only a fruit of the Holy Spirit but is also a gift of the Holy Spirit. Peace then is an outcome, more or less, of love.
He did say, also, that peace and love have a relationship. I hadn't thought about how peaceful are people who exude love, and loving people exude peace--I mean, truly loving and truly peaceful people. The priest intimated that for it to be true peace, it must be a fruit of the Holy Spirit. He said that when people think of peace between nations, that is not necessarily interior disposition but is rather a condition of agreement, which is not peace as God means: within souls. True peace must also come from love. Often nations, the native people, do not love each other but have made an agreement to not fight!
I wonder if, in the VG's comment, if love is really all that active. But, also it was said that love has an object: an object of love. Does peace have an object? No, I guess peace is just there, as an interior disposition within the soul; and it is rather passive. Love begets an effort, it seems, and wants to act, even if it is in thought and prayer--contemplative. Yet, perhaps as a fruit of the Holy Spirit, love also is passive and receives, such as the Trinity loves and receives one another in the Godhead. The Holy Spirit placed Love Itself in the womb of Mary: an action.
It is odd how the novel the hermit edited for a friend threatened to disrupt the peace. I think it is because the novel is tainted with impurity. It is not God's view, not His way. At first it was all right, but then the writer tried to make a perversion seem acceptable, or at least did not counter it as it is in God's view, but rather made it how he wanted it to be. I nearly went to confession this morning but will wait for the regular confessor, if possible. I felt that the image of these fictional characters would then be dispelled. But I think through prayer, through love of the goodness of God and of knowing how even small matters really do tell us what He wills, inner peace will be bulwarked. The one priest said that it is up to the person to make sure the peace, from the Holy Spirit, is not disrupted (or as I think of it: tainted). This comes under protecting our eyes and minds--all our senses--from that which is perverse. Corinthians 13 says: Charity dealeth not perversely. I looked up perverse, and the root means "turned away from what is right or good."
When one considers this, one has to be very firm with one's soul (and in that, the will and intellect) in discerning what is right and good. This morning at Mass, the priest spoke of selflessness, as the OT reading was about Daniel and the other three who gave themselves (were taken for the court) selflessly but also kept themselves purified by not defiling themselves with the King's food and wine; they did not go against their religious beliefs and eating laws. They sacrificed, in other words. The Gospel spoke Jesus' words about the woman who gave all her livelihood as opposed to those who give from their excess. But giving of our livelihood is also more than money or objects; it is giving of our soul to God, and this must be total.
Jesus says, "My peace I bequeath to you." The hermit continues in this peace. Ever since the hermit heard the word "bestowal" while driving, and then accepting that canonical approval was not going to be "bestowed," the hermit had the sense, the trust, that somehow something was going to be bestowed. At Mass the other day, the bestowal from Jesus came clear: His peace. There is peace of the Holy Spirit bestowed on the hermit.
The priest who explained most about peace and love, questioned when the hermit said God had bestowed peace? "Is this the peace of the Holy Spirit? Is it peace in the inner disposition of your soul?"
"Yes," the hermit responded, in awe and amazement at this reality, at this bestowal from God.
A couple others who have asked, have responded, "Well, for the time-being, anyway." Somehow the hermit knows that the peace bestowed through, with and in the Holy Spirit, is a peace that lasts eternally. Yet there is vigilance as in all fruit; and the fruit and gift of love, also, require vigilance, care, effort in the keeping. It is love that will bulwark the peace bestowed.
Love: the charity of not dealing perversely, the charity of not rejoicing in inequity but rejoicing in truth, the charity of patience and kindness, of forgiveness, of humility, not envying or coming to anger, of not seeking evil, not looking to oneself. Prayer of the soul, prayer of the intellect and will, prayer all for God, will protect the precious peace.
It seemed as if in many instances, peace could be interchanged with love. Peace is spoken more frequently in the liturgy of the Mass than the word "love."
Yet, the hermit asked the VG and another priest, and a friend, and the attributes of peace are being distinguished from those of love.
The VG said they are different, and he thinks love is more active and peace not so active. I asked another priest, and he had much to say. He pointed out that peace is an interior disposition of the soul, and that it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit and comes by the Holy Spirit. He said that love is not only a fruit of the Holy Spirit but is also a gift of the Holy Spirit. Peace then is an outcome, more or less, of love.
He did say, also, that peace and love have a relationship. I hadn't thought about how peaceful are people who exude love, and loving people exude peace--I mean, truly loving and truly peaceful people. The priest intimated that for it to be true peace, it must be a fruit of the Holy Spirit. He said that when people think of peace between nations, that is not necessarily interior disposition but is rather a condition of agreement, which is not peace as God means: within souls. True peace must also come from love. Often nations, the native people, do not love each other but have made an agreement to not fight!
I wonder if, in the VG's comment, if love is really all that active. But, also it was said that love has an object: an object of love. Does peace have an object? No, I guess peace is just there, as an interior disposition within the soul; and it is rather passive. Love begets an effort, it seems, and wants to act, even if it is in thought and prayer--contemplative. Yet, perhaps as a fruit of the Holy Spirit, love also is passive and receives, such as the Trinity loves and receives one another in the Godhead. The Holy Spirit placed Love Itself in the womb of Mary: an action.
It is odd how the novel the hermit edited for a friend threatened to disrupt the peace. I think it is because the novel is tainted with impurity. It is not God's view, not His way. At first it was all right, but then the writer tried to make a perversion seem acceptable, or at least did not counter it as it is in God's view, but rather made it how he wanted it to be. I nearly went to confession this morning but will wait for the regular confessor, if possible. I felt that the image of these fictional characters would then be dispelled. But I think through prayer, through love of the goodness of God and of knowing how even small matters really do tell us what He wills, inner peace will be bulwarked. The one priest said that it is up to the person to make sure the peace, from the Holy Spirit, is not disrupted (or as I think of it: tainted). This comes under protecting our eyes and minds--all our senses--from that which is perverse. Corinthians 13 says: Charity dealeth not perversely. I looked up perverse, and the root means "turned away from what is right or good."
When one considers this, one has to be very firm with one's soul (and in that, the will and intellect) in discerning what is right and good. This morning at Mass, the priest spoke of selflessness, as the OT reading was about Daniel and the other three who gave themselves (were taken for the court) selflessly but also kept themselves purified by not defiling themselves with the King's food and wine; they did not go against their religious beliefs and eating laws. They sacrificed, in other words. The Gospel spoke Jesus' words about the woman who gave all her livelihood as opposed to those who give from their excess. But giving of our livelihood is also more than money or objects; it is giving of our soul to God, and this must be total.
Jesus says, "My peace I bequeath to you." The hermit continues in this peace. Ever since the hermit heard the word "bestowal" while driving, and then accepting that canonical approval was not going to be "bestowed," the hermit had the sense, the trust, that somehow something was going to be bestowed. At Mass the other day, the bestowal from Jesus came clear: His peace. There is peace of the Holy Spirit bestowed on the hermit.
The priest who explained most about peace and love, questioned when the hermit said God had bestowed peace? "Is this the peace of the Holy Spirit? Is it peace in the inner disposition of your soul?"
"Yes," the hermit responded, in awe and amazement at this reality, at this bestowal from God.
A couple others who have asked, have responded, "Well, for the time-being, anyway." Somehow the hermit knows that the peace bestowed through, with and in the Holy Spirit, is a peace that lasts eternally. Yet there is vigilance as in all fruit; and the fruit and gift of love, also, require vigilance, care, effort in the keeping. It is love that will bulwark the peace bestowed.
Love: the charity of not dealing perversely, the charity of not rejoicing in inequity but rejoicing in truth, the charity of patience and kindness, of forgiveness, of humility, not envying or coming to anger, of not seeking evil, not looking to oneself. Prayer of the soul, prayer of the intellect and will, prayer all for God, will protect the precious peace.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
More Visitors to Agnus Dei Hermitage
A young couple and their infant son visited Agnus Dei Hermitage. Soon into the visit, they outpoured a family situation in which the woman's father is emotionally abusive to his family, while keeping up a rather holy exterior in public. We discussed how this could be confronted in individual interventions. The hermit also gave a green scapular to be placed deep in her father's favorite chair or taped under the bed. Prayers and Communion offerings were promised--and being fulfilled.
An older couple arrived for dinner, as the hermit declined dining out, preferring the silence and stillness of Agnus Dei. The hermit has learned that choices need to be made to ensure more spiritual quality to hospitality. The trio ate black beans, risotto, greens, dark purple grapes, and a chocolate brownie each--this latter not typical fare. (Somehow the hermit has lost a sweet tooth in recent months or perhaps couple of years. Can't recall when!)
With this couple, the conversation opens more into people and events--all relative to the Catholic scene. However, the effect was not the same as the Catholic family who visited the night before and watched the film, Diary of a Country Priest. The couple required more effort, and the hermit did not do an exemplary job of diverting to spiritual heights. Yet, the conversation did not dip into detraction at any point. There was grumbling, though; the couple is leaving the Cathedral but with good reason, and God's will. Their work is in active ministry, and there is an outlying parish which will help foster the work God desires of them, better than a large and less-intimate Cathedral can facilitate.
With all guests, the hermit gives a gift, and usually one with holy connectedness--even if it is a jar of jam made at a Cistercian abbey. Sometimes it is a spiritual book being passed on, or a blessed medal, or in the case of the woman last night, some lovely clothes for her to wear since she is in the public eye with her focused and loving pro-life work. The presentation of herself is necessary with the presentation of this cause; and the hermit's habit does no longer includes the garments given. Everyone was pleased, especially the hermit whose wardrobe is fitting into the seed crushed and buried and died in order for new life to emerge.
The hermit improved in not doing much talking but of asking and listening. The couple asked, though, of the hermit's life, as the last time in conversation with them, the hermit was deep in the throes of spiritual confusion, darkness--and verily dunked by the devil. The hermit could sincerely report (whether they believed it or not), that the hermit has been given peace, that peace of God has been bestowed. There is no resentment but only gratitude to the Bishop and the Vicar General for keeping the hermit out of canonical approval, for in their wisdom the hermit has died and been released in more freedom to live the hermit life, in formation by God. The hermit stated that these two mentors and spiritual leaders have been formally thanked.
People often think that the peace is only temporary. Again, the hermit explains that the peace and the love are so co-united (and the hermit is pondering this union, considering peace and what it is, and love and what it is), that God does not take peace away. Only the hermit could let it diminish, or the devil could disrupt. Thus it is some effort at times, to listen to the soul and the intellect and will--to discern if the peace is jarred, and why, and to utilize love to settle the peace once again.
Visitors to the hermitage are very good, whether in person or on telephone, or in a way, via e-mail. They are welcome aspects of love, peace and practice in both. But solitude is welcome, also; and so too the presence of angels and saints in their silence and serenity.
An older couple arrived for dinner, as the hermit declined dining out, preferring the silence and stillness of Agnus Dei. The hermit has learned that choices need to be made to ensure more spiritual quality to hospitality. The trio ate black beans, risotto, greens, dark purple grapes, and a chocolate brownie each--this latter not typical fare. (Somehow the hermit has lost a sweet tooth in recent months or perhaps couple of years. Can't recall when!)
With this couple, the conversation opens more into people and events--all relative to the Catholic scene. However, the effect was not the same as the Catholic family who visited the night before and watched the film, Diary of a Country Priest. The couple required more effort, and the hermit did not do an exemplary job of diverting to spiritual heights. Yet, the conversation did not dip into detraction at any point. There was grumbling, though; the couple is leaving the Cathedral but with good reason, and God's will. Their work is in active ministry, and there is an outlying parish which will help foster the work God desires of them, better than a large and less-intimate Cathedral can facilitate.
With all guests, the hermit gives a gift, and usually one with holy connectedness--even if it is a jar of jam made at a Cistercian abbey. Sometimes it is a spiritual book being passed on, or a blessed medal, or in the case of the woman last night, some lovely clothes for her to wear since she is in the public eye with her focused and loving pro-life work. The presentation of herself is necessary with the presentation of this cause; and the hermit's habit does no longer includes the garments given. Everyone was pleased, especially the hermit whose wardrobe is fitting into the seed crushed and buried and died in order for new life to emerge.
The hermit improved in not doing much talking but of asking and listening. The couple asked, though, of the hermit's life, as the last time in conversation with them, the hermit was deep in the throes of spiritual confusion, darkness--and verily dunked by the devil. The hermit could sincerely report (whether they believed it or not), that the hermit has been given peace, that peace of God has been bestowed. There is no resentment but only gratitude to the Bishop and the Vicar General for keeping the hermit out of canonical approval, for in their wisdom the hermit has died and been released in more freedom to live the hermit life, in formation by God. The hermit stated that these two mentors and spiritual leaders have been formally thanked.
People often think that the peace is only temporary. Again, the hermit explains that the peace and the love are so co-united (and the hermit is pondering this union, considering peace and what it is, and love and what it is), that God does not take peace away. Only the hermit could let it diminish, or the devil could disrupt. Thus it is some effort at times, to listen to the soul and the intellect and will--to discern if the peace is jarred, and why, and to utilize love to settle the peace once again.
Visitors to the hermitage are very good, whether in person or on telephone, or in a way, via e-mail. They are welcome aspects of love, peace and practice in both. But solitude is welcome, also; and so too the presence of angels and saints in their silence and serenity.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Attempts to Unseat Peace
Is it the devil who is trying to unseat the peace, or is it God who is trying the hermit in order to strengthen the peace bequeathed?
The hermit prefers to ponder God's love: that God is strengthening the hermit in cooperation with the peace bequeathed--a peace that seems impervious to other than peace.
Other than peace comes in varying degrees and packages. The hermit was to travel to a nearby city to spend the night and celebrate a holiday with others. Two hours prior to departure, the hermit worshipped at noon Mass. After, the hermit noticed the window of the car bashed in--glass shards covering the interior, rain down-pouring.
It would be two days until the window would arrive for replacement; the hermit has an older car which required a special order. The travel plans were canceled. It took over an hour, later that evening, to vacuum the glass and tape plastic over the open space so the hermit could get to morning Mass. The car seats are yet drying out.
Others thought this a sorrowful calamity; the hermit thought not. It was peace and God's gift of His will for no travel and days of silence and holy rest--not just for the hermit but for the ones to be visited who live busy lives. The hermit was sorry that the ones breaking into the car only got a pocketbook with partially used tissues and a pill box with two aspirin. Why would anyone leave a pocketbook with valuables in a car? The vandals did not consider this.
The event offered a pleasant encounter with the insurance agent as well as with the police as well as with the workers at the glass replacement shop. The hermit also was able to worship at the Mass the next morning at which the Bishop and Rector concelebrated. And the hermit appreciated a lovely conversation with those to have been visited.
There have been interior dealings which hitherto would have caused disruption of peace; but the peace endures. One such thorn is the editing of a novel a recent assignee has written. The hermit has not read fiction in years and would consider, perhaps, fiction by Mauriac or Bernanos, by O'Connor or Undset. But there are so many delectible spiritual books, non-fiction, for benefit. This novel is prayer and penance in the reading: the subject matter is nothing the hermit would read nor advise others to read unless, perhaps, they had the particular problem of same-sex attraction. Yet it is a good first-write, and it is an excellent catharsis for this person who is just now, mid-life, facing some deep issues.
The hermit considers love in regard to: love dealeth not perversely; love rejoiceth not in inequity but rejoiceth in truth. The hermit recognized that the reading and editing of this novel toyed with disrupting the peace; but as prayer for those with same-sex struggles, the hermit will complete the task. It is the prayer, the love for souls seeking truth, praying that they seek truth and find it, which will sustain this temporal task.
Nothing of earth is worth disruption of peace bequeathed by God. And nothing of Heaven will disrupt that peace. The devil may try, but love conquers all evil. Love rejoiceth in truth.
Is peace quite close to love? Jesus said, "My peace I bequeath to you." Is peace a facet of love, or is peace union with love as a soul by grace is in union with Christ?
The hermit prefers to ponder God's love: that God is strengthening the hermit in cooperation with the peace bequeathed--a peace that seems impervious to other than peace.
Other than peace comes in varying degrees and packages. The hermit was to travel to a nearby city to spend the night and celebrate a holiday with others. Two hours prior to departure, the hermit worshipped at noon Mass. After, the hermit noticed the window of the car bashed in--glass shards covering the interior, rain down-pouring.
It would be two days until the window would arrive for replacement; the hermit has an older car which required a special order. The travel plans were canceled. It took over an hour, later that evening, to vacuum the glass and tape plastic over the open space so the hermit could get to morning Mass. The car seats are yet drying out.
Others thought this a sorrowful calamity; the hermit thought not. It was peace and God's gift of His will for no travel and days of silence and holy rest--not just for the hermit but for the ones to be visited who live busy lives. The hermit was sorry that the ones breaking into the car only got a pocketbook with partially used tissues and a pill box with two aspirin. Why would anyone leave a pocketbook with valuables in a car? The vandals did not consider this.
The event offered a pleasant encounter with the insurance agent as well as with the police as well as with the workers at the glass replacement shop. The hermit also was able to worship at the Mass the next morning at which the Bishop and Rector concelebrated. And the hermit appreciated a lovely conversation with those to have been visited.
There have been interior dealings which hitherto would have caused disruption of peace; but the peace endures. One such thorn is the editing of a novel a recent assignee has written. The hermit has not read fiction in years and would consider, perhaps, fiction by Mauriac or Bernanos, by O'Connor or Undset. But there are so many delectible spiritual books, non-fiction, for benefit. This novel is prayer and penance in the reading: the subject matter is nothing the hermit would read nor advise others to read unless, perhaps, they had the particular problem of same-sex attraction. Yet it is a good first-write, and it is an excellent catharsis for this person who is just now, mid-life, facing some deep issues.
The hermit considers love in regard to: love dealeth not perversely; love rejoiceth not in inequity but rejoiceth in truth. The hermit recognized that the reading and editing of this novel toyed with disrupting the peace; but as prayer for those with same-sex struggles, the hermit will complete the task. It is the prayer, the love for souls seeking truth, praying that they seek truth and find it, which will sustain this temporal task.
Nothing of earth is worth disruption of peace bequeathed by God. And nothing of Heaven will disrupt that peace. The devil may try, but love conquers all evil. Love rejoiceth in truth.
Is peace quite close to love? Jesus said, "My peace I bequeath to you." Is peace a facet of love, or is peace union with love as a soul by grace is in union with Christ?
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Have You Become Love?
Have you become Love, yet?
Has the hermit grown into God-is-Love? Has the hermit become Love?
Shortly before midnight, an "assignee" called the hermit. We talked. The assignee is having difficulty breaking free of past wants, of wanting to do what it is most likely (by all indications) the Lord has not willed for him, good as it is...what he desires to do.
The hermit offered this assignee a glimpse of the peace and freedom that comes in finally dying to what the self wills, and of being nothing. But nothing? Not quite.
The hermit spoke of perspective and of becoming God, of growing into God, of growing into God-is-Love, of growing into Love. In this state, one must be an observer. One must observe Jesus and comprehend what is Love. Then one must love.
Jesus observed. He looked over Jerusalem. Then He wept. He watched Zaccheus up in the tree; then He called Him down and the miracle ensued. He observed His disciples sleeping in Gethsemani; then He awoke them and spoke. He saw the devil enter into Judas; then He sent him on his way. He observed Martha and Mary; then He admonished one and upheld the other as example of choosing the better part. The observations of Jesus go on and on.
The assignee is not "there", yet. We both know this. The hermit was not "there" for a long time: years. But the dying came, and it is like going through the tunnel of death, and it is good. The death and resurrection require only surrender of an emptied self, with no place else to turn except God alone. To turn to God, to become Him, to become Love.
We went over the word become. It is only the self that stands in the way of union with Christ. Once the union is made and the caterpillar has become a butterfly (and maybe a common cabbage butterfly, but a butterfly all the same), the soul must view as God views, must love as God loves, since both are One, and all are One.
To be in God's will brings freedom and peace. Jesus bequeath's His peace upon the soul in union with Him: united in God's will.
The hermit commented upon Corinthians 13 and admitted must study these points on Love. The hermit must learn about Love in specific and in general; and then the hermit must live this Love, practice Love, incline to Love, and adore and adorn Love.
The Douey translation appeals. Here is Love, described:
Charity is patient, is kind;
charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up;
Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own; is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never falleth away....
But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be put away....
In observation and in practice, the hermit--amidst the Nine S'--must be:
patient, kind, not envious, involved only in good endeavors;
humble, not ambitious, seek nothing for self, not provoked/not angry, think only on good;
rejoice in truth and not in sin;
bear, believe, hope, and endure all.
This Love must never fall away, never cease.
When one grows into perfection--when perfect God, perfect Love is come--no longer will be imperfection, no more will exist disunion or partial union. Love will be full and fulfilled.
Has the hermit grown into God-is-Love? Has the hermit become Love?
Shortly before midnight, an "assignee" called the hermit. We talked. The assignee is having difficulty breaking free of past wants, of wanting to do what it is most likely (by all indications) the Lord has not willed for him, good as it is...what he desires to do.
The hermit offered this assignee a glimpse of the peace and freedom that comes in finally dying to what the self wills, and of being nothing. But nothing? Not quite.
The hermit spoke of perspective and of becoming God, of growing into God, of growing into God-is-Love, of growing into Love. In this state, one must be an observer. One must observe Jesus and comprehend what is Love. Then one must love.
Jesus observed. He looked over Jerusalem. Then He wept. He watched Zaccheus up in the tree; then He called Him down and the miracle ensued. He observed His disciples sleeping in Gethsemani; then He awoke them and spoke. He saw the devil enter into Judas; then He sent him on his way. He observed Martha and Mary; then He admonished one and upheld the other as example of choosing the better part. The observations of Jesus go on and on.
The assignee is not "there", yet. We both know this. The hermit was not "there" for a long time: years. But the dying came, and it is like going through the tunnel of death, and it is good. The death and resurrection require only surrender of an emptied self, with no place else to turn except God alone. To turn to God, to become Him, to become Love.
We went over the word become. It is only the self that stands in the way of union with Christ. Once the union is made and the caterpillar has become a butterfly (and maybe a common cabbage butterfly, but a butterfly all the same), the soul must view as God views, must love as God loves, since both are One, and all are One.
To be in God's will brings freedom and peace. Jesus bequeath's His peace upon the soul in union with Him: united in God's will.
The hermit commented upon Corinthians 13 and admitted must study these points on Love. The hermit must learn about Love in specific and in general; and then the hermit must live this Love, practice Love, incline to Love, and adore and adorn Love.
The Douey translation appeals. Here is Love, described:
Charity is patient, is kind;
charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up;
Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own; is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never falleth away....
But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be put away....
In observation and in practice, the hermit--amidst the Nine S'--must be:
patient, kind, not envious, involved only in good endeavors;
humble, not ambitious, seek nothing for self, not provoked/not angry, think only on good;
rejoice in truth and not in sin;
bear, believe, hope, and endure all.
This Love must never fall away, never cease.
When one grows into perfection--when perfect God, perfect Love is come--no longer will be imperfection, no more will exist disunion or partial union. Love will be full and fulfilled.
Monday, November 19, 2007
A Letter Arrives from the Spiritual Da
The hermit received a letter from the Spiritual Da. He had listened to the two messages from the hermit, regarding the dream and questions asked.
He, of course, advised caution. The confessor had also stiffened with caution until the work in discernment was related.
But the Spiritual Da wrote then of what, truly, constitutes union, without saying as much.
He asked, "What is LOVE?"
Then answered his question: "It is dying to oneself and giving to ANOTHER."
Writing further, he admonished the hermit to be more concerned about God's love for the hermit than the hermit's love for God. In other words, he wrote: Be centered on God and not on yourself.
"Let your love for God be unselfish.
Often we love God's gifts more than we love Him."
And he repeated a warning he's given before: Be patient: Go slowly. You are driving too hard.
He closed by reminding the hermit to just enjoy the day, each day; and to know that God loves the hermit. As for the hermit's family, he advised to stand back, look and laugh at any foolishness, and yet know that God loves them. Be patient with them as God is very patient. And, finally: be happy!
The hermit asks and ponders: Have you grown into God yet?
In reflection, the hermit realizes that the Spiritual Da expresses what union with God means: Love. It is to be so much God, so in God, no longer "I" who lives but Christ who lives in the "I", that there is no more "I" The "I" ceases when it gives all to the OTHER, when the concern is on God's love, not the "I'" love. For the "I" has become God's love and is God's love, has the attributes of God's love, the character and appearance of God's love.
Thus, the "I" no longer an "I", but the "I" who is be-come God-is-Love, is patient and kind, is unselfish, and loves Love more than loves the affect of Love.
Do you understand? I think so. I think union with God is a matter of accepting and understanding Love. It is a matter of becoming Love.
He, of course, advised caution. The confessor had also stiffened with caution until the work in discernment was related.
But the Spiritual Da wrote then of what, truly, constitutes union, without saying as much.
He asked, "What is LOVE?"
Then answered his question: "It is dying to oneself and giving to ANOTHER."
Writing further, he admonished the hermit to be more concerned about God's love for the hermit than the hermit's love for God. In other words, he wrote: Be centered on God and not on yourself.
"Let your love for God be unselfish.
Often we love God's gifts more than we love Him."
And he repeated a warning he's given before: Be patient: Go slowly. You are driving too hard.
He closed by reminding the hermit to just enjoy the day, each day; and to know that God loves the hermit. As for the hermit's family, he advised to stand back, look and laugh at any foolishness, and yet know that God loves them. Be patient with them as God is very patient. And, finally: be happy!
The hermit asks and ponders: Have you grown into God yet?
In reflection, the hermit realizes that the Spiritual Da expresses what union with God means: Love. It is to be so much God, so in God, no longer "I" who lives but Christ who lives in the "I", that there is no more "I" The "I" ceases when it gives all to the OTHER, when the concern is on God's love, not the "I'" love. For the "I" has become God's love and is God's love, has the attributes of God's love, the character and appearance of God's love.
Thus, the "I" no longer an "I", but the "I" who is be-come God-is-Love, is patient and kind, is unselfish, and loves Love more than loves the affect of Love.
Do you understand? I think so. I think union with God is a matter of accepting and understanding Love. It is a matter of becoming Love.
This Is the Will of God
The hermit went to early Mass and then confession. The deep peace and love continues; it is as if the soul is enwrapt in thick cotton yet able to perceive as if through mountain air.
The hermit told the confessor of the sense of having "crossed over", and of this being into eight weeks of such serenity and peace, verging on quiet bliss. Then the hermit mentioned how selfish it all seems--to have this contentment, for life to be so easy (although still with much pain--but unaffected by pain).
The confessor said this is not selfishness but rather God's will for the hermit's soul and vocation--that God had definitely called the soul to this and was demonstrating as proof, the peace and contentment.
Then the hermit explained the selfishness of collecting the Catholic books on mystics, victim souls, hermits, and interior life--more than what the hermit can read at once. Shouldn't that money go to the poor?
The confessor said that the hermit needs these books for the spiritual life and growth, and that the books will be passed on to others. He said this is not selfishness.
The hermit also mentioned the dream and message. At first the confessor was cautious when the hermit mentioned the question, but once explained, the confessor found it as it ought be, and union with God is something to be accepted, not hindered, by souls. Yes, and the grapes in the dream represented the mode given by God for us, to help ensure union: the Eucharist; His Precious Blood.
The hermit experienced yet another blissful day. More was accomplished in the hermitage, and only one errand was required for eye drops and antihistamine from a nearby pharmacy. The hermit is trying to bring more order to the hermitage, to straighten and clean and gather another bundle for St. Vincent de Paul's Thrift Shop.
Correspondence (spiritual, of course), some reading, praying in all things, and editing, plus a couple of received phone calls, filled out the day. Nothing phenomenal other than the phenomena of being in God's will moment by moment, offering each seeming triviality, even breath and inner peace: to God, for God, for His glory.
The hermit told the confessor of the sense of having "crossed over", and of this being into eight weeks of such serenity and peace, verging on quiet bliss. Then the hermit mentioned how selfish it all seems--to have this contentment, for life to be so easy (although still with much pain--but unaffected by pain).
The confessor said this is not selfishness but rather God's will for the hermit's soul and vocation--that God had definitely called the soul to this and was demonstrating as proof, the peace and contentment.
Then the hermit explained the selfishness of collecting the Catholic books on mystics, victim souls, hermits, and interior life--more than what the hermit can read at once. Shouldn't that money go to the poor?
The confessor said that the hermit needs these books for the spiritual life and growth, and that the books will be passed on to others. He said this is not selfishness.
The hermit also mentioned the dream and message. At first the confessor was cautious when the hermit mentioned the question, but once explained, the confessor found it as it ought be, and union with God is something to be accepted, not hindered, by souls. Yes, and the grapes in the dream represented the mode given by God for us, to help ensure union: the Eucharist; His Precious Blood.
The hermit experienced yet another blissful day. More was accomplished in the hermitage, and only one errand was required for eye drops and antihistamine from a nearby pharmacy. The hermit is trying to bring more order to the hermitage, to straighten and clean and gather another bundle for St. Vincent de Paul's Thrift Shop.
Correspondence (spiritual, of course), some reading, praying in all things, and editing, plus a couple of received phone calls, filled out the day. Nothing phenomenal other than the phenomena of being in God's will moment by moment, offering each seeming triviality, even breath and inner peace: to God, for God, for His glory.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
The Hermit Is Asked a Question
Three nights ago the hermit had a dream. In it, the hermit's spiritual father appeared, bearing a clump of deep purple-blue grapes. He instructed the hermit that he'd brought them to be eaten. Some of the grapes had been eaten already, presumably by the spiritual father. It was a shared meal, thus.
Then the spiritual father, with much eagerness asked the hermit this question--and asked it twice in succession:
Have you become God? Have you become God yet?
There was intensity and enthusiam, an eagerness and hope that the hermit would share the excitement and joy of this question, the hope of the intent!
The hermit, however, was at first stunned, for the hermit is not God and said so. But then the hermit comprehended, and had to respond, "Not yet, not yet. The hermit knew that this was expected, and that it was good indeed: to become God.
Upon waking, the hermit recognized that this dream bore a significant message from God in the guise of the elderly spiritual father. But the dream needed to be placed in the collander of discernment and rinsed through and through.
A message was left with the spiritual father, relaying the dream and asking if this is theologically sound and Scriptural. The hermit went to confession with the first available priest, who happened to be a Canon lawyer from Nigeria. At the conclusion of confession, the hermit asked permission to ask a question of discernment, and relayed the dream.
The confessor gave the usual discernment admonitions but said that in Scripture St. Paul tried to express it thus: It is not now I who lives but Christ who liveth in me. He said that we are to become as God, to live in our minds, words and actions in our daily lives, as Jesus would live. He said this is a valid message.
Of course, the hermit explained that the hermit is NOT God Himself! The hermit mentioned having read some mystics and saints who, when they had union with God, would exclaim "I am God! God is me! We are One!" Now the hermit wishes to have written down these, but at the time the exuberance and confidence in such statements seemed uncomfortably strong, just as the hermit felt in the dream when asked with such joyful hopefulness: Have you become God yet?
Then the hermit did a word study, for the word "become" kept appearing as a critical clue.
become [AngloSaxon. Be-cuman to come, to happen.] to grow into or come to be; as, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. To undergo change or development. To appropriate or suitable to; to accord with the character, appearance, nautre, etc., of.
The question is a good one, and one in which we all as Christians should aspire to be-coming! We should be willing and eager to grow into God, to come into God and to undergo change and development in order to be suitable to God--to accord with God's character, appearance and nature.
The hermit is now willing to become God. The hermit had never pondered it in such wise. May the Lord change the hermit--and how? Obviously, God was trying to let the hermit know that through the Eucharist, through the Blood of Christ as represented by the dark purplish grapes--that this is the meal that will change the soul to grow into God.
Then the soul will be appropriate to and suitable to God.
It is what God desires of all of souls--to become Him.
Do you understand now?
Then the spiritual father, with much eagerness asked the hermit this question--and asked it twice in succession:
Have you become God? Have you become God yet?
There was intensity and enthusiam, an eagerness and hope that the hermit would share the excitement and joy of this question, the hope of the intent!
The hermit, however, was at first stunned, for the hermit is not God and said so. But then the hermit comprehended, and had to respond, "Not yet, not yet. The hermit knew that this was expected, and that it was good indeed: to become God.
Upon waking, the hermit recognized that this dream bore a significant message from God in the guise of the elderly spiritual father. But the dream needed to be placed in the collander of discernment and rinsed through and through.
A message was left with the spiritual father, relaying the dream and asking if this is theologically sound and Scriptural. The hermit went to confession with the first available priest, who happened to be a Canon lawyer from Nigeria. At the conclusion of confession, the hermit asked permission to ask a question of discernment, and relayed the dream.
The confessor gave the usual discernment admonitions but said that in Scripture St. Paul tried to express it thus: It is not now I who lives but Christ who liveth in me. He said that we are to become as God, to live in our minds, words and actions in our daily lives, as Jesus would live. He said this is a valid message.
Of course, the hermit explained that the hermit is NOT God Himself! The hermit mentioned having read some mystics and saints who, when they had union with God, would exclaim "I am God! God is me! We are One!" Now the hermit wishes to have written down these, but at the time the exuberance and confidence in such statements seemed uncomfortably strong, just as the hermit felt in the dream when asked with such joyful hopefulness: Have you become God yet?
Then the hermit did a word study, for the word "become" kept appearing as a critical clue.
become [AngloSaxon. Be-cuman to come, to happen.] to grow into or come to be; as, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. To undergo change or development. To appropriate or suitable to; to accord with the character, appearance, nautre, etc., of.
The question is a good one, and one in which we all as Christians should aspire to be-coming! We should be willing and eager to grow into God, to come into God and to undergo change and development in order to be suitable to God--to accord with God's character, appearance and nature.
The hermit is now willing to become God. The hermit had never pondered it in such wise. May the Lord change the hermit--and how? Obviously, God was trying to let the hermit know that through the Eucharist, through the Blood of Christ as represented by the dark purplish grapes--that this is the meal that will change the soul to grow into God.
Then the soul will be appropriate to and suitable to God.
It is what God desires of all of souls--to become Him.
Do you understand now?
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Walking with Head Turned Back
A previous assignee called last evening. He continues to desire to be validated by the B, desires to return to his position. It is not his destiny.
Later, the hermit saw him in inner sight, walking the rushed streets of the large city where he is discovering his future by grappling with his past temptations. He is finding himself, and he is open now to God's will--except in this one category of a vocation entered into with deception. That is not a pure vocation. To be purified, he must enter into the vocation anew and in purity, if that vocation is God's will.
Yes, he was walking along, but the oddity is that he walked with his head turned to the right and back over his shoulder.
The hermit called and expected to leave a message, but the assignee answered; his meeting with the group was finished for the evening. The hermit told him that he is trying to walk with his head looking back, and this is not efficient walking! His head is turned back, trying to look down the highway back to where he used to be--and was living a life not free, not himself, and not successful for the temptations overtook his soul. It was a life of total deception.
The hermit told him that the hermit knows how this does not work, for the hermit has spent years trying to walk forward while yet looking back...or sometimes off to the side, watching what others were doing or what they were saying ought to be done.
No, souls must walk with heads looking forward as we are created in this manner and function. Our souls are meant to focus on Jesus, and He leads the Way of the Cross, not looking back. He leads the Way to Resurrection, not looking back.
A friend e-mailed in response to something the hermit wrote about the Catholic books purchased, this weakness for these holy books! This friend struggles with schizophrenia, yet more and more she is cooperating with the graces God gives. She lives a life perhaps more hermit-like than the hermit in some regards, yet not so in exterior solitude, yet very much so in the interior world and isolation that hovers about those with mental sufferings.
She commented that having a collection can be a good thing. She points out that even if all the books are not read by the hermit, they are here, available, and enduring about as much as temporalities endure. This makes me consider that the content exudes the space all about; and, as yesterday was the Feast of St. Gertrude the Great, and the hermit had awhile back discovered a small treasure book on this saint, picked it off the shelf and read a chapter.... It was very beneficial!
Another woman called a day or so ago, needing to discuss some issues with a college-age son. In her conversation, she mentioned that the books of saints the hermit had given them, have now been read by a woman and her family who live down the road from them.
The hermit will stop fussing about the books but be grateful for their presence and their ease in gifting and sharing the gold. As in the hermit garb, and the hermitage furnishings--all some day, soon or not soon, will be passed on in charity. Nothing of them is dark or evil, but only good in their affability as temporal objects. The important point to weigh is the hermit's attachment or detachment to any objects or views.
On yet another topic, the hermit all the more is grateful to the Bishop and Vicar General for not succumbing to the view that the hermit must be consecrated canonically. All during the throes of the hermit's confusion over this issue, the hermit was looking to the side and back, allowing influence through insecurities of what was seemingly required in order to be God's hermit and a hermit for His Church. The hermit had no peace.
Now there is peace. The hermit had trusted and stated to the Bishop that God would see through the eyes of the Bishop. The hermit has learned that this is so! Nothing can imitate the peace of the Holy Spirit--and not for such a length of blissful time! Whatever may be the will of God in other hermits, this hermit is willed to be as is: privately consecrated and avowed.
There is no inner need or desire otherwise, now or in future. So be it and praise be to God! When in the past the VG said that God would provide the graces that othewise come through the Church in canonical approval, he is proven correct in God's peace and providence.
Also, there is complete peace in no urgings to utilize past training, talents, degrees--no urgency to write a book or be published, no urgency to work for the Church in any formal or even informal tasks, no desires for anything except to adore God, to be possessed and to possess.
The hermit tried to express this to the assignee who called last evening. This is what is out there for us, this blissful peace! But more on that in another post, perhaps.
Later, the hermit saw him in inner sight, walking the rushed streets of the large city where he is discovering his future by grappling with his past temptations. He is finding himself, and he is open now to God's will--except in this one category of a vocation entered into with deception. That is not a pure vocation. To be purified, he must enter into the vocation anew and in purity, if that vocation is God's will.
Yes, he was walking along, but the oddity is that he walked with his head turned to the right and back over his shoulder.
The hermit called and expected to leave a message, but the assignee answered; his meeting with the group was finished for the evening. The hermit told him that he is trying to walk with his head looking back, and this is not efficient walking! His head is turned back, trying to look down the highway back to where he used to be--and was living a life not free, not himself, and not successful for the temptations overtook his soul. It was a life of total deception.
The hermit told him that the hermit knows how this does not work, for the hermit has spent years trying to walk forward while yet looking back...or sometimes off to the side, watching what others were doing or what they were saying ought to be done.
No, souls must walk with heads looking forward as we are created in this manner and function. Our souls are meant to focus on Jesus, and He leads the Way of the Cross, not looking back. He leads the Way to Resurrection, not looking back.
A friend e-mailed in response to something the hermit wrote about the Catholic books purchased, this weakness for these holy books! This friend struggles with schizophrenia, yet more and more she is cooperating with the graces God gives. She lives a life perhaps more hermit-like than the hermit in some regards, yet not so in exterior solitude, yet very much so in the interior world and isolation that hovers about those with mental sufferings.
She commented that having a collection can be a good thing. She points out that even if all the books are not read by the hermit, they are here, available, and enduring about as much as temporalities endure. This makes me consider that the content exudes the space all about; and, as yesterday was the Feast of St. Gertrude the Great, and the hermit had awhile back discovered a small treasure book on this saint, picked it off the shelf and read a chapter.... It was very beneficial!
Another woman called a day or so ago, needing to discuss some issues with a college-age son. In her conversation, she mentioned that the books of saints the hermit had given them, have now been read by a woman and her family who live down the road from them.
The hermit will stop fussing about the books but be grateful for their presence and their ease in gifting and sharing the gold. As in the hermit garb, and the hermitage furnishings--all some day, soon or not soon, will be passed on in charity. Nothing of them is dark or evil, but only good in their affability as temporal objects. The important point to weigh is the hermit's attachment or detachment to any objects or views.
On yet another topic, the hermit all the more is grateful to the Bishop and Vicar General for not succumbing to the view that the hermit must be consecrated canonically. All during the throes of the hermit's confusion over this issue, the hermit was looking to the side and back, allowing influence through insecurities of what was seemingly required in order to be God's hermit and a hermit for His Church. The hermit had no peace.
Now there is peace. The hermit had trusted and stated to the Bishop that God would see through the eyes of the Bishop. The hermit has learned that this is so! Nothing can imitate the peace of the Holy Spirit--and not for such a length of blissful time! Whatever may be the will of God in other hermits, this hermit is willed to be as is: privately consecrated and avowed.
There is no inner need or desire otherwise, now or in future. So be it and praise be to God! When in the past the VG said that God would provide the graces that othewise come through the Church in canonical approval, he is proven correct in God's peace and providence.
Also, there is complete peace in no urgings to utilize past training, talents, degrees--no urgency to write a book or be published, no urgency to work for the Church in any formal or even informal tasks, no desires for anything except to adore God, to be possessed and to possess.
The hermit tried to express this to the assignee who called last evening. This is what is out there for us, this blissful peace! But more on that in another post, perhaps.
Caryll Houselander Writes of a "Rule"
The hermit read the first chapter of Reed of God by the dear eccentric and mystic Caryll Houselander. The hermit loves to look at Caryll's photo on the dustcover, for she reminds the hermit of the equally beloved Flannery O'Connor.
As Flannery once wrote in a letter that she was a "literary hermit," one could surmise that Caryll was a hermit of the interior vistas in London.
Caryll mentions in the Introduction that "we need some direction for our souls which is never away from us; which, without enslaving us or narrowing our vision, enters into every detail of our life."
This is the need for a rule. The need for a rule of life is not just the hermit's need, but it is the need for every soul created by God. As has been written in previous blogs, the rules of the Virgin Mary, the rules of various saints, the rules of obscure hermits, the rules of great religious orders--the rules are unique to the individual soul or souls. In the case of religious communities, the rule is set but each soul lives out that rule in the unique way God forms that soul...and in the unique way each soul conforms with God's will in that very formation.
Caryll Houselander continues on the topic of a rule:
Everyone longs for some such inward rule, a universal rule as big as the immeasurable law of love, yet as little as the narrowness of our daily routine. It must be so truly part of us all that it makes us all one, and yet to each one the secret of his own life with God.
Houselander, Caryll. The Reed of God. 1944. New York: Sheed & Ward, p. xiii.
The hermit cannot comment on such profundity as this! Sip slowly in the silence and solitude.
As Flannery once wrote in a letter that she was a "literary hermit," one could surmise that Caryll was a hermit of the interior vistas in London.
Caryll mentions in the Introduction that "we need some direction for our souls which is never away from us; which, without enslaving us or narrowing our vision, enters into every detail of our life."
This is the need for a rule. The need for a rule of life is not just the hermit's need, but it is the need for every soul created by God. As has been written in previous blogs, the rules of the Virgin Mary, the rules of various saints, the rules of obscure hermits, the rules of great religious orders--the rules are unique to the individual soul or souls. In the case of religious communities, the rule is set but each soul lives out that rule in the unique way God forms that soul...and in the unique way each soul conforms with God's will in that very formation.
Caryll Houselander continues on the topic of a rule:
Everyone longs for some such inward rule, a universal rule as big as the immeasurable law of love, yet as little as the narrowness of our daily routine. It must be so truly part of us all that it makes us all one, and yet to each one the secret of his own life with God.
Houselander, Caryll. The Reed of God. 1944. New York: Sheed & Ward, p. xiii.
The hermit cannot comment on such profundity as this! Sip slowly in the silence and solitude.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Another S: Selfish
The hermit feels selfish. Mentioning this to the spiritual da, the da said only, "Perhaps a little." It is difficult to ascertain. We do not know for sure, not yet.
The hermit mentioned to a priest, sometimes a confessor, the feeling of selfishness, the feeling of too much comfort and not enough austerity, and he pointed out that feelings were rooted in the actions of Adam and Eve, and to discern the spirits regarding the feelings I am having. The devil can try to disrupt peace through "feelings."
St. John of the Cross includes the imagination, the emotions (feelings), as part of those rings wrapping around the inner-sanctum of the soul's will and intellect, as areas of free-encounter by the devil. The devil is allowed into these outer rings of senses and emotion and imagination; the will and intellect must monitor and proceed toward union with the Divine Mind and Will.
Here's a current difficulty: the hermit has gathered a lovely variety for the garb. While the garments are all discount, they are of lovely quality and classic style. The hermit is well-dressed, quite lovely for Mass and in outer exposure in the world. "Put together" is the term the adult children use, and "proper". Most do not know the symbolism of the seed crushed and fallen to the ground, buried to die in order to bring forth new life. This is fine. But it is a niggling point to the hermit--such lovely garb and comfort exteriorly.
Another difficulty is that the hermit has purchased yet more classic Catholic books on mysticism, hermit life, and saints. There is a guilt attached to the acquisition of such old books, some scarce,and yet so very worthwhile. But should the money be going to the poor? Perhaps someday these books will go to the poor--to poor Catholics or others who might be enriched in spiritual matters as a result of reading the books. Yet, the books gather, and the hermit does not begin to get all of them read, not yet, anyway.
There is a certain comfort--yes comfort--in having these holy writings from the saints and spiritual masters on the hermitage library shelves and lying about on end tables. The hermit works slowly through two or three or four books concurrently. The hermit began Caryll Houselander's Reed of God last night, spurred on by the delight a friend, struggling with issues, is finding in this selection which is the conclusion of our year of readings with Our Lady.
Then there is the selfishness the hermit feels with this massive and on-going PEACE. The hermit continues into the seventh week of a peace that passes all the hermit's understanding. The hermit loves to be in the hermitage. The hermit loves going to Mass. The hermit otherwise has no other desires but to be alone with God, to pray for others, to ponder and read and write and maintain the few responsibilities. A kind of bliss--maybe the serenity which is the ninth S--persists despite the pain.
During the night the hermit was awake a couple of hours. The hermit does not get far in praying the rosary--perhaps the Creed and Our Father and a few Hail Mary's. But then the hermit thinks about people who've asked for prayers--or those the hermit knows to pray for. The hermit simply lies there and ponders God, ponders the silence and this life of comfort, seeming comfort. The hermit prays for the people in the world, for souls in purgatory--for whatever comes to mind. It all seems so easy: too easy.
Then the hermit considers that perhaps Jesus wants life to be like this, to be easy as His yoke is easy; nearly burdenless as His burdens are light. The hermit ponders what other aspects of the world could be lopped off? In Caryll Houselander's first chapter, "Emptiness", she writes of how we exclude silence by filling our reed, our chalice, our nest--with clutter.
Are the books clutter? Are the items of the habit clutter? Is the cream for the cuticle clutter and comfort unnecessary and displeasing to the Lord? Are the orchids growing (and two more dying) clutter? Were the contacts with the people made through the purchases, clutter? No. These contacts had meaning, and more meaning than the items purchased. It is the contacts with the people that are the music of the reed, the Blood of the chalice, the lining of the nest.
Perhaps the hermit is selfish. Undoubtedly the hermit is--too much self, as ridding of self is the bane of human existence. But the hermit must not dwell on these feelings, for feelings are riveting self to more self. The hermit must strive to the S of selflessness, through almsgiving, prayer, penance, and also the gratitude for joy, peace and comforts in this life, given by God although undeserved by the hermit.
The hermit mentioned to a priest, sometimes a confessor, the feeling of selfishness, the feeling of too much comfort and not enough austerity, and he pointed out that feelings were rooted in the actions of Adam and Eve, and to discern the spirits regarding the feelings I am having. The devil can try to disrupt peace through "feelings."
St. John of the Cross includes the imagination, the emotions (feelings), as part of those rings wrapping around the inner-sanctum of the soul's will and intellect, as areas of free-encounter by the devil. The devil is allowed into these outer rings of senses and emotion and imagination; the will and intellect must monitor and proceed toward union with the Divine Mind and Will.
Here's a current difficulty: the hermit has gathered a lovely variety for the garb. While the garments are all discount, they are of lovely quality and classic style. The hermit is well-dressed, quite lovely for Mass and in outer exposure in the world. "Put together" is the term the adult children use, and "proper". Most do not know the symbolism of the seed crushed and fallen to the ground, buried to die in order to bring forth new life. This is fine. But it is a niggling point to the hermit--such lovely garb and comfort exteriorly.
Another difficulty is that the hermit has purchased yet more classic Catholic books on mysticism, hermit life, and saints. There is a guilt attached to the acquisition of such old books, some scarce,and yet so very worthwhile. But should the money be going to the poor? Perhaps someday these books will go to the poor--to poor Catholics or others who might be enriched in spiritual matters as a result of reading the books. Yet, the books gather, and the hermit does not begin to get all of them read, not yet, anyway.
There is a certain comfort--yes comfort--in having these holy writings from the saints and spiritual masters on the hermitage library shelves and lying about on end tables. The hermit works slowly through two or three or four books concurrently. The hermit began Caryll Houselander's Reed of God last night, spurred on by the delight a friend, struggling with issues, is finding in this selection which is the conclusion of our year of readings with Our Lady.
Then there is the selfishness the hermit feels with this massive and on-going PEACE. The hermit continues into the seventh week of a peace that passes all the hermit's understanding. The hermit loves to be in the hermitage. The hermit loves going to Mass. The hermit otherwise has no other desires but to be alone with God, to pray for others, to ponder and read and write and maintain the few responsibilities. A kind of bliss--maybe the serenity which is the ninth S--persists despite the pain.
During the night the hermit was awake a couple of hours. The hermit does not get far in praying the rosary--perhaps the Creed and Our Father and a few Hail Mary's. But then the hermit thinks about people who've asked for prayers--or those the hermit knows to pray for. The hermit simply lies there and ponders God, ponders the silence and this life of comfort, seeming comfort. The hermit prays for the people in the world, for souls in purgatory--for whatever comes to mind. It all seems so easy: too easy.
Then the hermit considers that perhaps Jesus wants life to be like this, to be easy as His yoke is easy; nearly burdenless as His burdens are light. The hermit ponders what other aspects of the world could be lopped off? In Caryll Houselander's first chapter, "Emptiness", she writes of how we exclude silence by filling our reed, our chalice, our nest--with clutter.
Are the books clutter? Are the items of the habit clutter? Is the cream for the cuticle clutter and comfort unnecessary and displeasing to the Lord? Are the orchids growing (and two more dying) clutter? Were the contacts with the people made through the purchases, clutter? No. These contacts had meaning, and more meaning than the items purchased. It is the contacts with the people that are the music of the reed, the Blood of the chalice, the lining of the nest.
Perhaps the hermit is selfish. Undoubtedly the hermit is--too much self, as ridding of self is the bane of human existence. But the hermit must not dwell on these feelings, for feelings are riveting self to more self. The hermit must strive to the S of selflessness, through almsgiving, prayer, penance, and also the gratitude for joy, peace and comforts in this life, given by God although undeserved by the hermit.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Hermit Hours
The hermit does not have a set horarium, or hourly schedule, daily. It just doesn't seem to work well, given the Order of the Present Moment. Yet, the hours seem to slide some days, and spontaneity consumes time.
Now that the hermit exists in more peace, has seemingly "crossed over" into deeper conversion to the hermit life (values and honors the hermit life God has chosen), time seems elusive.
This morning the hermit awoke following some messages in the night, of which the hermit will speak to the Spiritual Da and also the confessor. This will take time. The hermit, still battling sinus infection and trying to embrace the pain as always, awoke tired. But off to a medical conference in morning rain, to advocate and take notes for an elderly couple whose adult children are not in this area. It was good the hermit was there; the specialist was not the one they need, and assertive action was taken. Then the hermit returned some items to a store--one of two stores (besides bi-monthly trip to grocery) the hermit patronizes.
Somehow the hermit is disoriented in the world, increasingly so since the "crossing over." Thus, to acclimate to two stores is about all the hermit can tolerate. It simplifies shopping to limit the exposures; it is expedient and efficient. For hermitage maintenance, there is one store only, and the hermit does not have to go there now that the bulk is completed. Thanks be to God!
Then the hermit went into the Cathedral to pray and then to read while awaiting noon Mass. There was no one inside but the custodian, silently dustmopping the marble floors. An hour and half slid by in the silence and stillness; the hermit pondered the messages of the preceding night. Then the hermit read two chapters in The Life, Letters and Community of St. Catherine de Ricci and another day's entry from Ancient Devotions to the Sacred Heart (by Medieval Carthusians).
It seemed the Guardian Angel, Beth, nudged the hermit to float to the chapel for noon Mass, within minutes of commencement. Such serenity gained from the time with Jesus in the Tabernacle--the bulk alone as the custodian finished and departed at some point.
After glorious Mass, the hermit returned to Agnus Dei and attended to lentils and cheese in a small bowl, two pieces of ginger, correspondence, reporting to the daughter of the elderly couple the results of the doctor's visit, and a call from an adult daughter. This was the second call, as the hermit received the typical daily contact from a cousin who calls from a nearby town. What used to seem a needed contact by the hermit, is now only a needed contact by the cousin. However, the hermit is called to hospitality, and in our time, dropping what we are doing for a phone call is hospitality, odd as that seems. The task, as in days of yore when hermits dropped their basket weaving when a pilgrim stood at the door to their hut, is to funnel the conversation into the spiritual. So the hermit does this with the cousin, and with any other phone calls or e-mails (which also function as a form of cyber-hospitality).
Next the hermit must do some editing of consumer complaints, and pray the while for the people cheated by companies out there in our greedy world--and pray for consumers who ought not consume so much, or some types, of temporal objects. Then there will be some hermitage tidying tasks, and more reading, and more editing, and if God allows His time to be used thus, to watch once more the Carthusian film: Into Great Silence.
Or, the hermit might write another blog--one on what constitutes a mystic and the mystical life, as adroitly written by Fr. Bertrand Wilberforce, OP in his introduction to the St. Catherine de Ricci book. This entry may come under a different blog, as it has more to do with living all for God.
Anyway, the hermit has come to such a deep peace, and the time melts moment into moment, and the moments evaporate into Christ's side wound, and then flow back into His Sacred Heart, where therein the hermit praises God for the burning love of His Precious Blood, and praises God for the purifying waters which cleanse the hermit's stains of years of time not spent in union with His will.
The hermit is going to go to Mass quite early each day in order to spend time alone with the Beloved, in the Cathedral alone in God's time.
Would the hermit want a tabernacle in the hermitage? No. Why? The hermit prefers to be the least, to be low, to be unworthy--as the hermit is unworthy for such. Besides, while God grants the hermit the grace to be in such glorious encounter in a Cathedral, to absorb the souls who've prayed in those pews, to thank the souls who paid for the beauteous edifice--why think a Tabernacle necessary in the hermitage?
Pride would think so, this hermit thinks. It is an effort to get up, get out, drive to the Cathedral: an opportunity to be like everyone else in this small, hidden sacrifice--one that meets its return in beauty and the silent surroundings of souls seen and unseen, present and past.
Now that the hermit exists in more peace, has seemingly "crossed over" into deeper conversion to the hermit life (values and honors the hermit life God has chosen), time seems elusive.
This morning the hermit awoke following some messages in the night, of which the hermit will speak to the Spiritual Da and also the confessor. This will take time. The hermit, still battling sinus infection and trying to embrace the pain as always, awoke tired. But off to a medical conference in morning rain, to advocate and take notes for an elderly couple whose adult children are not in this area. It was good the hermit was there; the specialist was not the one they need, and assertive action was taken. Then the hermit returned some items to a store--one of two stores (besides bi-monthly trip to grocery) the hermit patronizes.
Somehow the hermit is disoriented in the world, increasingly so since the "crossing over." Thus, to acclimate to two stores is about all the hermit can tolerate. It simplifies shopping to limit the exposures; it is expedient and efficient. For hermitage maintenance, there is one store only, and the hermit does not have to go there now that the bulk is completed. Thanks be to God!
Then the hermit went into the Cathedral to pray and then to read while awaiting noon Mass. There was no one inside but the custodian, silently dustmopping the marble floors. An hour and half slid by in the silence and stillness; the hermit pondered the messages of the preceding night. Then the hermit read two chapters in The Life, Letters and Community of St. Catherine de Ricci and another day's entry from Ancient Devotions to the Sacred Heart (by Medieval Carthusians).
It seemed the Guardian Angel, Beth, nudged the hermit to float to the chapel for noon Mass, within minutes of commencement. Such serenity gained from the time with Jesus in the Tabernacle--the bulk alone as the custodian finished and departed at some point.
After glorious Mass, the hermit returned to Agnus Dei and attended to lentils and cheese in a small bowl, two pieces of ginger, correspondence, reporting to the daughter of the elderly couple the results of the doctor's visit, and a call from an adult daughter. This was the second call, as the hermit received the typical daily contact from a cousin who calls from a nearby town. What used to seem a needed contact by the hermit, is now only a needed contact by the cousin. However, the hermit is called to hospitality, and in our time, dropping what we are doing for a phone call is hospitality, odd as that seems. The task, as in days of yore when hermits dropped their basket weaving when a pilgrim stood at the door to their hut, is to funnel the conversation into the spiritual. So the hermit does this with the cousin, and with any other phone calls or e-mails (which also function as a form of cyber-hospitality).
Next the hermit must do some editing of consumer complaints, and pray the while for the people cheated by companies out there in our greedy world--and pray for consumers who ought not consume so much, or some types, of temporal objects. Then there will be some hermitage tidying tasks, and more reading, and more editing, and if God allows His time to be used thus, to watch once more the Carthusian film: Into Great Silence.
Or, the hermit might write another blog--one on what constitutes a mystic and the mystical life, as adroitly written by Fr. Bertrand Wilberforce, OP in his introduction to the St. Catherine de Ricci book. This entry may come under a different blog, as it has more to do with living all for God.
Anyway, the hermit has come to such a deep peace, and the time melts moment into moment, and the moments evaporate into Christ's side wound, and then flow back into His Sacred Heart, where therein the hermit praises God for the burning love of His Precious Blood, and praises God for the purifying waters which cleanse the hermit's stains of years of time not spent in union with His will.
The hermit is going to go to Mass quite early each day in order to spend time alone with the Beloved, in the Cathedral alone in God's time.
Would the hermit want a tabernacle in the hermitage? No. Why? The hermit prefers to be the least, to be low, to be unworthy--as the hermit is unworthy for such. Besides, while God grants the hermit the grace to be in such glorious encounter in a Cathedral, to absorb the souls who've prayed in those pews, to thank the souls who paid for the beauteous edifice--why think a Tabernacle necessary in the hermitage?
Pride would think so, this hermit thinks. It is an effort to get up, get out, drive to the Cathedral: an opportunity to be like everyone else in this small, hidden sacrifice--one that meets its return in beauty and the silent surroundings of souls seen and unseen, present and past.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Hermit and Family
The hermit has returned from a few day's with the adult children and two grandbabies. This is the first time the three adult children and the hermit have been together in well over a year, and prior to that it was perhaps five years--at a daughter's wedding.
We gathered in a city at the home of the eldest daughter, her husband and baby girl. Another daughter flew in with her baby boy; the husband remained home with work. The son flew in from a large city. The occasion was an early birthday party for the baby grandson.
The impetus of this blog, nearly a year ago, was the comment of a friend who said I cannot be a complete hermit because I have adult children. She said that religious are not to have children, and also felt that formal formation is required to be consecrated. This life-long Catholic friend is like so many Catholics--some who don't know what "hermit" is or means.
Of course, the hermit thought it best to be "complete"--but is settling for "incomplete", if that is what God deems. But, the point of the blog is to chronicle the life of a current-day hermit, incomplete or complete. What does that matter?
Yes, a hermit can have adult children. Some hermits had spouses, such as St. Nicholas of Flue who had a wife and perhaps eight children. The family agreed that he could go up the mountain and live in his hermit hut. He returned when it was time to die. His family was just fine with the situation; they comprehended God's call in his life and gave allowance for it. No one should stand in God's way.
This hermit--me--also deals with suffering, with being a victim soul. The family gathering had been looked forward to with much anticipation of joy. The hermit brought gifts for everyone. It was truly a joy to be gathered with the adult children, the one spouse, and the grandbabies. The hermit was determined to not react to any unexpected occurrences or comments.
It was a physical challenge for the hermit to have so much activity and to be out of the hermitage, out of the daily routine and some of the Nine S'--such as silence and solitude and slowness. There were some horrendous dreams to deal with at night, and the hermit discerned quickly the devil was not absenting himself from this reunion. Dreams of the past implanted but yet were cast off in the morning hours.
Sleep was not so easy in a different environment. But what perhaps was the greatest challenge was trying to fit in, trying to be what the adult children would find acceptable. This meant stifling spiritual conversation. This was the greatest challenge for the hermit, requiring intense effort. The hermit is an awkward person, sort of a mis-fit into groups, especially those involving people acclimated to the world. The hermit has grown increasingly interior and sensitized to the spiritual. The hermit did not go to Mass in this city, and two days away from Mass took its toll. The gathering was one in which the hermit needed to be plunged into a different experience, and by the final morning, came: collapse.
When the son readied to leave, the hermit's eyes became waterfalls. There was no mention, but the tears continued. Then the daughter who remained as the others took him to the airport, had a talk with the hermit. Of course, no mention or very little at all was made using the "h" word the entire weekend, except one mention by the hermit of the enjoyment of writing blogs. But the adult daughter expressed some constructive criticism of the hermit, such as the awkwardness, and of seeming to be incapable, and of others not knowing what to do with the hermit, as the hermit seemed inable to relax. The hermit's bad habit of cuticle picking was brought out. Well, the hermit remained mostly silent, and yet did express that the hermit is uncomfortable, worn out, and awkward in that the hermit does not fit in, and knows it.
The hermit could not verbalize much of what was going on interiorly. That would entail getting into spiritual matters, into the soul, into the hermit's life in the Church, living omnia pro Deo, and the sensitivity to that which is in the surroundings. The hermit does feel very vulnerable to the views of the adult children, to sensing not being what they want, who they want, how they want. The hermit did mention this insecurity but did not explain further.
All the way home, the hermit wept. The tears had been rolling for over four hours. Once back at Agnus Dei, some answers surfaced. For one thing, the interior life does not cease in other environments; also, the hermit senses and absorbs an environment--deeply senses and absorbs. It was painful to not be able to discuss Jesus, to pray together even before meals, to be immersed in the world exclusively, exteriorly. The atmosphere resulted in great sorrow welling up. All the more the hermit realized how distanced from the three most loved of the hermit's life, the three closest for many years.
The Lord had a consolation awaiting the hermit in an unexpected letter from Father Abbot of a prominent Abbey. The hermit prays and offers sufferings for the monks of that abbey; the abbot gave good news: seven in formation and two coming this week! Also, there had been inter-religious dialog with Muslim scholars and a retreat for a group of the Catholic Worker movement. What amazed the hermit is that Father Abbot remembered the hermit from a visit nearly three years ago, at which time the hermit and the abbot had a chance encounter in the chapel, at a certain moment in which the hermit, from interior means, was to offer the suffering, to offer as victim soul, for the abbey. The abbot accepted.
Then came a phone call from a former assignee of the hermit, one for whom the hermit had offered suffering. It was a good phone conversation, and this soul is making progress, thankfully, but still very much needs prayer and encouragement from the horrible temptations of an addiction.
And, the hermit has prayer work to do with the adult children. Only one goes to church and has their baby baptized. The hermit wept more considering the consequences that could occur with just a moment of tragedy or accident. Why do we humans take such chances with our eternal souls?
The hermit returned to the Cathedral over an hour before Mass, just to BE there with Jesus, just to ABSORB the silence and solitude, the acceptance. It is at Mass that the hermit can be--can be however the hermit is. Perhaps others do not accept the hermit or even know the hermit, but the hermit is there with the Beloved, and the Beloved knows, understands, and accepts--even the cuticle picking.
And why does the hermit have this habit? Some from childhood, but mostly as a distraction, a kind of referred pain, to distract from the massive physical pain constantly burning the hermit's body, especially when sitting. The hermit is going to try to embrace the pain without picking the cuticle which so effectively causes other pain which distracts from the total body pain. It would be a great feat of sacrifice to embrace the all-over burning pain with no distraction. It will also be humbling if the hermit cannot break the habit. But the hermit will try.
Somehow the hermit has come to honor and value the hermit life. For sure.
We gathered in a city at the home of the eldest daughter, her husband and baby girl. Another daughter flew in with her baby boy; the husband remained home with work. The son flew in from a large city. The occasion was an early birthday party for the baby grandson.
The impetus of this blog, nearly a year ago, was the comment of a friend who said I cannot be a complete hermit because I have adult children. She said that religious are not to have children, and also felt that formal formation is required to be consecrated. This life-long Catholic friend is like so many Catholics--some who don't know what "hermit" is or means.
Of course, the hermit thought it best to be "complete"--but is settling for "incomplete", if that is what God deems. But, the point of the blog is to chronicle the life of a current-day hermit, incomplete or complete. What does that matter?
Yes, a hermit can have adult children. Some hermits had spouses, such as St. Nicholas of Flue who had a wife and perhaps eight children. The family agreed that he could go up the mountain and live in his hermit hut. He returned when it was time to die. His family was just fine with the situation; they comprehended God's call in his life and gave allowance for it. No one should stand in God's way.
This hermit--me--also deals with suffering, with being a victim soul. The family gathering had been looked forward to with much anticipation of joy. The hermit brought gifts for everyone. It was truly a joy to be gathered with the adult children, the one spouse, and the grandbabies. The hermit was determined to not react to any unexpected occurrences or comments.
It was a physical challenge for the hermit to have so much activity and to be out of the hermitage, out of the daily routine and some of the Nine S'--such as silence and solitude and slowness. There were some horrendous dreams to deal with at night, and the hermit discerned quickly the devil was not absenting himself from this reunion. Dreams of the past implanted but yet were cast off in the morning hours.
Sleep was not so easy in a different environment. But what perhaps was the greatest challenge was trying to fit in, trying to be what the adult children would find acceptable. This meant stifling spiritual conversation. This was the greatest challenge for the hermit, requiring intense effort. The hermit is an awkward person, sort of a mis-fit into groups, especially those involving people acclimated to the world. The hermit has grown increasingly interior and sensitized to the spiritual. The hermit did not go to Mass in this city, and two days away from Mass took its toll. The gathering was one in which the hermit needed to be plunged into a different experience, and by the final morning, came: collapse.
When the son readied to leave, the hermit's eyes became waterfalls. There was no mention, but the tears continued. Then the daughter who remained as the others took him to the airport, had a talk with the hermit. Of course, no mention or very little at all was made using the "h" word the entire weekend, except one mention by the hermit of the enjoyment of writing blogs. But the adult daughter expressed some constructive criticism of the hermit, such as the awkwardness, and of seeming to be incapable, and of others not knowing what to do with the hermit, as the hermit seemed inable to relax. The hermit's bad habit of cuticle picking was brought out. Well, the hermit remained mostly silent, and yet did express that the hermit is uncomfortable, worn out, and awkward in that the hermit does not fit in, and knows it.
The hermit could not verbalize much of what was going on interiorly. That would entail getting into spiritual matters, into the soul, into the hermit's life in the Church, living omnia pro Deo, and the sensitivity to that which is in the surroundings. The hermit does feel very vulnerable to the views of the adult children, to sensing not being what they want, who they want, how they want. The hermit did mention this insecurity but did not explain further.
All the way home, the hermit wept. The tears had been rolling for over four hours. Once back at Agnus Dei, some answers surfaced. For one thing, the interior life does not cease in other environments; also, the hermit senses and absorbs an environment--deeply senses and absorbs. It was painful to not be able to discuss Jesus, to pray together even before meals, to be immersed in the world exclusively, exteriorly. The atmosphere resulted in great sorrow welling up. All the more the hermit realized how distanced from the three most loved of the hermit's life, the three closest for many years.
The Lord had a consolation awaiting the hermit in an unexpected letter from Father Abbot of a prominent Abbey. The hermit prays and offers sufferings for the monks of that abbey; the abbot gave good news: seven in formation and two coming this week! Also, there had been inter-religious dialog with Muslim scholars and a retreat for a group of the Catholic Worker movement. What amazed the hermit is that Father Abbot remembered the hermit from a visit nearly three years ago, at which time the hermit and the abbot had a chance encounter in the chapel, at a certain moment in which the hermit, from interior means, was to offer the suffering, to offer as victim soul, for the abbey. The abbot accepted.
Then came a phone call from a former assignee of the hermit, one for whom the hermit had offered suffering. It was a good phone conversation, and this soul is making progress, thankfully, but still very much needs prayer and encouragement from the horrible temptations of an addiction.
And, the hermit has prayer work to do with the adult children. Only one goes to church and has their baby baptized. The hermit wept more considering the consequences that could occur with just a moment of tragedy or accident. Why do we humans take such chances with our eternal souls?
The hermit returned to the Cathedral over an hour before Mass, just to BE there with Jesus, just to ABSORB the silence and solitude, the acceptance. It is at Mass that the hermit can be--can be however the hermit is. Perhaps others do not accept the hermit or even know the hermit, but the hermit is there with the Beloved, and the Beloved knows, understands, and accepts--even the cuticle picking.
And why does the hermit have this habit? Some from childhood, but mostly as a distraction, a kind of referred pain, to distract from the massive physical pain constantly burning the hermit's body, especially when sitting. The hermit is going to try to embrace the pain without picking the cuticle which so effectively causes other pain which distracts from the total body pain. It would be a great feat of sacrifice to embrace the all-over burning pain with no distraction. It will also be humbling if the hermit cannot break the habit. But the hermit will try.
Somehow the hermit has come to honor and value the hermit life. For sure.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Cold Snap at Agnus Dei
Wind and chill, bless the Lord! Cold snaps at Agnus Dei Hermitage. The hermit must accomplish some errands before and after noon Mass. Then there is the appointment with the Tribunal regarding annulment procedings. Time to pull out the wool jacket, hat and gloves.
Today the hermit is pondering some lines from Ps. 73, particularly: Apart from You I want nothing on earth; and, To be near God is my happiness.
When relationships and all of life are filtered through these lines, holy indifference and spiritual detachment dwell within, with God in the soul. God is my possession for ever.
The hermit continues formation in not reacting to situations, to moods of self or others, to physical pain or emotional upheavals. The soul merely enwrapts in wool coat and hat and gloves and ventures forth into the wind and chill. Bless the Lord!
The lingering mosquitoes will call it quits soon, given the turn in temperatures. Time for negativities within to call it quits, also. The freedom persists, and the hermit faces challenges, mostly from others, in not reacting, not taking on the external disruptions, the anticipations of what might be intentions or agendas of others.
The hermit has prayed much for purity of intention, as of late. To simply be near God, to know God is my happiness, makes matters clear-cut. It is easy enough to love, and to love detrimentals in life, also. The hermit recalls Caryll Houselander's explanation of how we are able to love the ugly in others, to see Jesus in others who are not nice, not loving, not kind, as some people simply are not! Jesus is in these souls all the same, maybe more willingly so, as He frequented the houses of sinners!
He is in these souls (and my soul!), suffering in and with them in their miseries and failings. So, too, must we see Jesus in them suffering, and be willing to love the suffering Jesus in these souls, and thus love them with love of Jesus, loving Jesus.
Purity of intention makes quite a difference within the soul. Intentions are tricky matters, and purity is of God, and bequeathed by God through the graces the Immaculata imparts from her Son. The Holy Spirit is purity, and purity is breathed upon us when we ask. We must believe in purity, believe that we receive, and work with love. Love is pure, love that is of God. It is a pure love that crushes pride.
God: what else? Nothing but God: I have made the Lord God my refuge.
Today the hermit is pondering some lines from Ps. 73, particularly: Apart from You I want nothing on earth; and, To be near God is my happiness.
When relationships and all of life are filtered through these lines, holy indifference and spiritual detachment dwell within, with God in the soul. God is my possession for ever.
The hermit continues formation in not reacting to situations, to moods of self or others, to physical pain or emotional upheavals. The soul merely enwrapts in wool coat and hat and gloves and ventures forth into the wind and chill. Bless the Lord!
The lingering mosquitoes will call it quits soon, given the turn in temperatures. Time for negativities within to call it quits, also. The freedom persists, and the hermit faces challenges, mostly from others, in not reacting, not taking on the external disruptions, the anticipations of what might be intentions or agendas of others.
The hermit has prayed much for purity of intention, as of late. To simply be near God, to know God is my happiness, makes matters clear-cut. It is easy enough to love, and to love detrimentals in life, also. The hermit recalls Caryll Houselander's explanation of how we are able to love the ugly in others, to see Jesus in others who are not nice, not loving, not kind, as some people simply are not! Jesus is in these souls all the same, maybe more willingly so, as He frequented the houses of sinners!
He is in these souls (and my soul!), suffering in and with them in their miseries and failings. So, too, must we see Jesus in them suffering, and be willing to love the suffering Jesus in these souls, and thus love them with love of Jesus, loving Jesus.
Purity of intention makes quite a difference within the soul. Intentions are tricky matters, and purity is of God, and bequeathed by God through the graces the Immaculata imparts from her Son. The Holy Spirit is purity, and purity is breathed upon us when we ask. We must believe in purity, believe that we receive, and work with love. Love is pure, love that is of God. It is a pure love that crushes pride.
God: what else? Nothing but God: I have made the Lord God my refuge.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
The Lot Marked Out for Me
The lot marked out for me is my delight:
welcome indeed the heritage that falls to me!
From Psalm 16 come these words which impute the love we must have for our destinies.
The hermit ponders anew beauty of God's will, of simply staying on the straight and narrow path--the one God has marked for the individual soul. A certain warmth and easiness comes when one accepts boundaries and direction, of whatever that entails. Path signposts for the hermit are humility, hiddenness, obscurity, nothingness.
All destinies divinely marked out find delight in the following. Delight does not mean an absence of trials. Following Christ always includes picking up the cross daily. There is delight, however, in humbly and simply doing the Lord's will, step by step. The more self-will is trompled underfoot, the more delightful is the way, and the heritage--the destiny--becomes a welcoming existence.
The hermit wrote one more message to the young priest who has left his lot marked out for him--or taken a temporary detour, we pray. The hermit felt it fair-play to remind the man and his woman friend, that what we do (and think) are not hidden from others. Even intimacies are not hidden from supernatural viewings. This fact may not stop our sinning, but it should give us moment to ponder afresh the omniscience of God and the favors He grants to His emmissaries. We do not tred the path alone or invisible, even if in temporal solitude.
Yesterday the hermit completed painting the picket fence. The two young men came to help screw the sections into the posts--only to discover that inches were not included for the end boards to be fastened. Now we are sawing and making adjustments. It is a shame, and the hermit is stretched to embrace more patience and perseverance: the offering coincides with the patience and perseverance for the young priest and the woman. It, too, is not a done deal, not an easy fit, and needs adjusting and changing. The results will be visible somewhat, but in time one becomes accustomed to the error and the correction. Yes, there will be a correction in the deviation from the lot marked out for both of them, just as there will be corrections made in the fence. The fence will bear the consequences of imperfections; no way around it.
Souls bear consequences of actions, of going against the lot marked out, of veering from welcoming the heritage that is given as gift by God. Yet, one can simply step back onto the narrow path and embrace the destiny. It should be so simple.
Why do we make it difficult?
A glance at evil, at the devil, at Adam and Eve in the Garden--these help us comprehend that for various reasons, we mortals tend to be convinced and to convince others, that the lot marked out somehow should be enlarged and widened to encompass our own desires.
Rather, in stability and simplicity do we place one foot in front of the other, not looking about to embrace other lots marked out for others, or not marked out for anyone in some cases.
welcome indeed the heritage that falls to me!
From Psalm 16 come these words which impute the love we must have for our destinies.
The hermit ponders anew beauty of God's will, of simply staying on the straight and narrow path--the one God has marked for the individual soul. A certain warmth and easiness comes when one accepts boundaries and direction, of whatever that entails. Path signposts for the hermit are humility, hiddenness, obscurity, nothingness.
All destinies divinely marked out find delight in the following. Delight does not mean an absence of trials. Following Christ always includes picking up the cross daily. There is delight, however, in humbly and simply doing the Lord's will, step by step. The more self-will is trompled underfoot, the more delightful is the way, and the heritage--the destiny--becomes a welcoming existence.
The hermit wrote one more message to the young priest who has left his lot marked out for him--or taken a temporary detour, we pray. The hermit felt it fair-play to remind the man and his woman friend, that what we do (and think) are not hidden from others. Even intimacies are not hidden from supernatural viewings. This fact may not stop our sinning, but it should give us moment to ponder afresh the omniscience of God and the favors He grants to His emmissaries. We do not tred the path alone or invisible, even if in temporal solitude.
Yesterday the hermit completed painting the picket fence. The two young men came to help screw the sections into the posts--only to discover that inches were not included for the end boards to be fastened. Now we are sawing and making adjustments. It is a shame, and the hermit is stretched to embrace more patience and perseverance: the offering coincides with the patience and perseverance for the young priest and the woman. It, too, is not a done deal, not an easy fit, and needs adjusting and changing. The results will be visible somewhat, but in time one becomes accustomed to the error and the correction. Yes, there will be a correction in the deviation from the lot marked out for both of them, just as there will be corrections made in the fence. The fence will bear the consequences of imperfections; no way around it.
Souls bear consequences of actions, of going against the lot marked out, of veering from welcoming the heritage that is given as gift by God. Yet, one can simply step back onto the narrow path and embrace the destiny. It should be so simple.
Why do we make it difficult?
A glance at evil, at the devil, at Adam and Eve in the Garden--these help us comprehend that for various reasons, we mortals tend to be convinced and to convince others, that the lot marked out somehow should be enlarged and widened to encompass our own desires.
Rather, in stability and simplicity do we place one foot in front of the other, not looking about to embrace other lots marked out for others, or not marked out for anyone in some cases.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Freaky Peace and Joy
This extension of peace and joy seems freaky. The hermit cannot recall this long-of-running spate of deep contentment--not for a very long time, if ever.
Yes, there have been some minor doubts; but the lone struggle, if one can call it a struggle, is that of adapting to such FREEDOM! The hermit is experiencing SPIRITUAL FREEDOM!
Today, the Bishop celebrated noon Mass on this Feast of All Saints. He emphasized prayer. He reminded us that to be holy, we simply must ACCEPT the gifts God imputed to us at our Baptism, and then to pray, to converse (as St. Teresa of Avila said) with God as we would with one who loves us. Be good, strive to be good, but holiness is a gift from God; and prayer is a means to accept God's gift through His love of us.
The hermit is accepting, deeply accepting, God's gift of this hermit life and the freedom that came unexpectedly with the acceptance.
Despite pain, the peace and joy persist. Despite working on not REACTING to how others perceive, whether or not they approve--the hermit enjoys peace and joy. The hermit realizes that nothing and no one can take away the hermit vocation that God has chosen. This in itself is quite freeing, for in all other endeavors, aspects or even huge chunks and sum totals were taken away or not allowed. But a vocation is eternal. The hermit will be a hermit will be a hermit. Vocation is interior with but external manifestations while on earth. Vocation is the vehicle, and being interior, that vehicle moves interiorly, intangibly, and numinously.
The other night the hermit had quite an experience involving the new assignment, the young priest who has fallen in love with a woman, or the woman with him; whichever occurred first is now moot. The hermit awoke in severe pain, the heart suffering much. Then some other manifestations occurred, and there was otherworldly work done on this case.
The next morning, the hermit decided (in an exercise of learning to not react, to not fear, and to be free), to write it out to the Bishop, in descriptive detail. The hermit decided to let the Bishop experience a bit what it is like, this assignment--and to wait to see how the hermit would fare in not reacting if the Bishop reacted. This may fall under the category of learning spiritual detachment or holy indifference.
The hermit has also had to deal with doubts. Did the hermit write too frankly to the young priest? Would he despair? Would he dig his heels in all the more? Is the hermit on firm territory in what was written, which is of faith? Or is the hermit deceived? Is the hermit stepping into business not belonging to the hermit as was sensed from the confessor? And, was that sense from the confessor just the hermit's own anxieties over something which is quite personal but very soul-threatening?
No word has returned from the young priest. The hermit wrote a short note today, expressing concern and love--love enough to be so open and frank; concern enough to want the young priest to know the supernatural realities of what he and the woman are about, and information for them to make informed choices other than what is merely temporal.
The hermit has gained strength in not reacting to no word from the young priest, in not reacting to the what-if's, in not reacting to the subdued and silent sentience of the confessor. The hermit is not reacting to thoughts floating about the mind of the Bishop's reaction to the letter sent.
The hermit has stepped out into the freedom, more like ether sent out into the galaxy; and it is acknowledged that humiliations will be embraced when errors are made along the way. In the freedom to embrace and love humility, resides peace and joy.
Yes, there have been some minor doubts; but the lone struggle, if one can call it a struggle, is that of adapting to such FREEDOM! The hermit is experiencing SPIRITUAL FREEDOM!
Today, the Bishop celebrated noon Mass on this Feast of All Saints. He emphasized prayer. He reminded us that to be holy, we simply must ACCEPT the gifts God imputed to us at our Baptism, and then to pray, to converse (as St. Teresa of Avila said) with God as we would with one who loves us. Be good, strive to be good, but holiness is a gift from God; and prayer is a means to accept God's gift through His love of us.
The hermit is accepting, deeply accepting, God's gift of this hermit life and the freedom that came unexpectedly with the acceptance.
Despite pain, the peace and joy persist. Despite working on not REACTING to how others perceive, whether or not they approve--the hermit enjoys peace and joy. The hermit realizes that nothing and no one can take away the hermit vocation that God has chosen. This in itself is quite freeing, for in all other endeavors, aspects or even huge chunks and sum totals were taken away or not allowed. But a vocation is eternal. The hermit will be a hermit will be a hermit. Vocation is interior with but external manifestations while on earth. Vocation is the vehicle, and being interior, that vehicle moves interiorly, intangibly, and numinously.
The other night the hermit had quite an experience involving the new assignment, the young priest who has fallen in love with a woman, or the woman with him; whichever occurred first is now moot. The hermit awoke in severe pain, the heart suffering much. Then some other manifestations occurred, and there was otherworldly work done on this case.
The next morning, the hermit decided (in an exercise of learning to not react, to not fear, and to be free), to write it out to the Bishop, in descriptive detail. The hermit decided to let the Bishop experience a bit what it is like, this assignment--and to wait to see how the hermit would fare in not reacting if the Bishop reacted. This may fall under the category of learning spiritual detachment or holy indifference.
The hermit has also had to deal with doubts. Did the hermit write too frankly to the young priest? Would he despair? Would he dig his heels in all the more? Is the hermit on firm territory in what was written, which is of faith? Or is the hermit deceived? Is the hermit stepping into business not belonging to the hermit as was sensed from the confessor? And, was that sense from the confessor just the hermit's own anxieties over something which is quite personal but very soul-threatening?
No word has returned from the young priest. The hermit wrote a short note today, expressing concern and love--love enough to be so open and frank; concern enough to want the young priest to know the supernatural realities of what he and the woman are about, and information for them to make informed choices other than what is merely temporal.
The hermit has gained strength in not reacting to no word from the young priest, in not reacting to the what-if's, in not reacting to the subdued and silent sentience of the confessor. The hermit is not reacting to thoughts floating about the mind of the Bishop's reaction to the letter sent.
The hermit has stepped out into the freedom, more like ether sent out into the galaxy; and it is acknowledged that humiliations will be embraced when errors are made along the way. In the freedom to embrace and love humility, resides peace and joy.
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