As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts ... And be thankful. --Colossians 3:12-15
The Path of Life
Friday, July 17, 2020
A Word for our times -- and all times
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
Good news and bad
Most of us probably are paying a little more attention to the news these days than we ordinarily might. Probably a lot more. I know I am. We want to know what’s going on, what to expect. We seek answers. While we need to stay informed during times such as these, over-exposure to the headlines can be harmful. Too much focus on bad news can be overwhelming, distort our perception of reality, and induce anxiety that can ruin one’s mental, spiritual, and physical well-being. It’s difficult to find a healthy balance.
As most of you know, I worked in the newspaper business 17 years before coming to the monastery in 2006. First, I was a beat reporter for a few years, then later a news editor and managing editor at a small Ohio daily. Finally, from 1999 to 2006, I was the wire editor at a metropolitan daily. So, paying attention to the news is kind of ingrained within me. It was my job for many years, especially those last seven years as wire editor.
Minute by minute, I had to monitor world, national and state news issued by at
least seven major wire services (along with several websites), remain in
constant communication with editors, and edit the stories we published.
Add to this excitement two nightly deadlines and a sometimes-difficult work
environment, and you have a recipe for stress and anxiety. I’m surprised I
didn’t have a stroke.
Even when I was not at work, I felt obligated to keep on
top of everything, so that I wasn’t racing to catch up when I got to the
newsroom. So, even at home, I usually had CNN on TV.
In some ways, the current crisis reminds me of both the
fall of 2000 and the fall of 2001. During those two periods, the usual daily newsroom
tension was injected with steroids – first during the unresolved presidential
contest of 2000 between George W. Bush and Al Gore, and then during the horror
and aftermath of September 11, 2001. If you recall, after the 2000 election, we
didn’t know who had won for more than a month. Each day during that period,
there seemed to be another dramatic turn. Then, after the shock of 9-11, there
were rescue efforts, investigations, the implementation of heightened security,
and retaliation and an international manhunt.
I had to be on top of it all 24/7, it seemed. I did my
job reasonably well, but my mental and physical health took a severe pounding.
At the time, I had no spiritual life. Mostly, I coped by drinking.
Fast forward to the present. I am still inclined to keep
a close eye on what is happening. But I am no longer compelled (outwardly, at
least) to “stay on top of it all.” It’s not my job any longer. Still, old
habits can be hard to break, so I must be mindful of that. It helps to look for
the inspirational stories out there – compassionate people helping neighbors in
need, Italians defying isolation and death by singing together from their
balconies. However, it is necessary for me to tune it all out occasionally—and listen
to music, take a walk, read a good book or watch a light-hearted movie, share a
funny story with a fellow monk, or check in by phone with a family member or
friend. All these have become for me ways to flatten the anxiety curve, so that
it does not spike out of control. (No baseball makes the task more difficult—but
not impossible!)
However, the most important difference between now and then
for me is my spiritual life. Though certainly not practiced perfectly, it is a
life of faith rooted in the monastic way of life to which I have vowed myself. Scripture,
prayer, and this monastery are rocks I did not have to stand upon 20 years ago.
I am thankful for that.
Even so, faith during difficult times must be more than a
coping mechanism, right? It must be the path by which we strive to find meaning
-– and the path by which our response to circumstances is shaped. Faith is how
we join ourselves to a wider human narrative of redemption.
C.S. Lewis famously wrote that “God whispers to us in our
pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pain; it is His
megaphone to rouse a deaf world." We in the monastery have not yet
suffered because of the pandemic. We’ve been inconvenienced; our normal
lives have been disrupted. But we aren’t gasping for air in a crowded hospital
corridor. We are not doctors and nurses doggedly working around the clock to
care for the ill at the risk of our own health. We haven’t lost jobs that
provide for our families. Those people are suffering. What is God
shouting to them in their pain? I don’t know … Maybe he shouts to all
of us through them.
Certainly, it is true that God invites us all to ask
ourselves: “What is God saying to us in this? What is he saying to me?
What role should we – do I – have in the current crisis? What should be
my response? Am I reminding myself daily, as St. Benedict urges, that I am going to die, while looking
forward to holy Easter with joy and spiritual longing?”
I don’t have answers. But I think we are being divinely
prompted to ask the questions. In the light of faith, that is good news—even
though it arises from a virus. The grace of faith seeks out and recalls the
good in all circumstances. And as St. Paul wrote to the Romans, “all things
work together for good for those who love God” (8:28). For evidence of that, we need look no further
than to our crucified Savior.
Friday, January 24, 2020
Thursday, January 2, 2020
A prayer for the new year
Steer the ship of my life, Lord, to your quiet harbor, where I can be safe from the storms of sin and conflict. Show me the course I should take. Renew in me the gift of discernment, so that I can see the right direction in which I should go. And give me the strength and courage to choose the right course, even when the sea is rough and the waves are high, knowing that through enduring hardship and danger in your name we shall find comfort and peace.
-- St. Basil of Caesarea
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Turning the page with gratitude
This is the last day of the year, so it is appropriate for us to take leave of the year in a Christian way. We are leaving a year behind us with its many days, its work, its cares, its disappointments, its bitterness, with the plans we have had, and which have perhaps come entirely to nothing or have only partly been realized. We are leaving it behind with our guilt, our failure—in fact with everything that our ungenerous hearts have made of the year. Let us bid farewell to the old year thankfully. God has given us all the days of this year. They have been gifts of his love, blessed days, days of grace and salvation.
Karl Rahner, S.J.
Friday, December 13, 2019
Wake up!
“Remain vigilant. Be prepared.”
These days, we hear such exhortations quite a bit – whether it’s in relation to an impending storm or a possible terrorist attack. We’re told to keep a close eye out for potential active shooters or child abusers.
Unfortunately,
it is necessary to remain vigilant in
today’s world. We do need to be on
guard against foreign or domestic threats—especially for the sake of our
communities, and for the most vulnerable people within them. But such vigilance
can be taken too far. Fear and violence can easily escalate into a cycle of cruel
absurdity. Moreover, I submit to you that the Evil One relishes our being fearful
and hyper-vigilant about threats to our physical
well-being while at the same time, we remain inattentive and sluggish about the
state of our souls. Inordinate fear of bodily harm is one of
Satan’s weapons.
So, while
we need to be reasonably vigilant about our physical selves, it is more
important to look after our spiritual well-being. Vigilance in the Christian
sense is much more important. Most of us struggle to be as watchful as we need
to be in this regard. We have our moments of wakefulness, but all too often we succumb
to spiritual drowsiness, if not outright slumber.
Christian
vigilance involves faith, trust, hope, and peace. It has nothing to do with
fear. Instead, there is an element of expectancy involved—one that prompts us
to remain alert and eager. I am reminded of the occasional summer day when, as
a child, my family planned a trip to someplace like Cedar Point (an amusement
park on the shores of Lake Erie in Ohio). On days like that, my siblings and I practically
leapt out of bed in the morning. We were eager to get going.
That
same type of eager alertness and expectancy is necessary—but often lacking—when
it comes to our spiritual life. It is the good zeal that St. Benedict calls us
to in his Rule. With such zeal, we
are watchful and willing to be and do whatever God desires of us. St. Paul
often urges us to the same thing in his letters. For example, in Romans he
writes:
It is the hour now
for you to awake from sleep. For our salvation is nearer now than when we first
believed; the night is advanced, the day is at hand. Let us throw off the works
of darkness and put on the armor of light. (Romans 13:11-12, NAB)
This
is Christian vigilance. It urges us to wake up and walk in the light of Christ.
While on earth, Jesus himself encouraged his disciples (and us) to do the same:
Let your … lamps [be] burning, and be like those who are
waiting for their master to come home … so that they may open to him at once
when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds
awake when he comes. … You must be ready; for the Son of man is coming at an
unexpected hour (Luke 12:35-37, 40, RSV)
There are three things about this passage I would like to
emphasize. First of all, Jesus is not talking about physical wakefulness. He
was human, and as human beings, we all know that sufficient sleep is necessary.
Jesus slept, just as we do.
Still, the gospels also tell us that Jesus often prayed at night.
This is where our Christian notion of “keeping vigil” originates. As you know,
monks (especially Carthusians and Trappists) keep vigil in the middle of the
night while most of the world sleeps. So, there is certainly a valuable
tradition of struggling against drowsiness and distraction to remain physically
awake to pray. Monks commit themselves to this in order “keep watch” over a
world shrouded in spiritual as well as physical darkness—to operate,
symbolically at least, as the “light of the world” to which Jesus calls us (cf.
Matthew 5:14).
In the secular world, this can be compared to the work of soldiers
on night watch or third-shift security guards in the realm of business and
industry. Someone must keep an eye on things because malevolent forces often
operate under the cover of darkness. Comparisons could also be made with the
watchfulness of a night nurse in a hospital, or a mother who stays up with a
sick child. The vigilant person sacrifices sleep for the sake of the weak, the
ill, and the fearful.
In like manner, the night vigil kept by monks or other ascetics is observed
in order to intercede for all those in spiritual need – the sick and dying, the
distressed and persecuted, the unenlightened and the sinner.
But even when physical wakefulness is involved in the Christian
sense, the practice is always ordered
toward an interior, spiritual
wakefulness. The goal is a wakeful heart alert to God’s presence. Christian
night watches, says the Trappist monk Charles Cummings, are always “aimed at
awakening [the] heart and keeping it ready to welcome the Lord” He cites the
verse from Revelation: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears
my voice and opens the door, I will enter his house and dine with him, and he
with me” (Revelation 3:20).
“People may be physically awake,” Cummings says, “but they will not
hear Jesus knocking at the door of their heart unless they are also spiritually
awake and vigilant. Some are walking in their sleep spiritually, not yet awakened
to the horizon of spiritual values. They are still gratifying their senses,
accumulating more [possessions], trying to control their world.” (Monastic Practices, p.142).
Secondly, the admonition to wake up and remain watchful is not only
about Jesus’ second coming. Being spiritually alert for Jesus’ arrival at the
end of time is necessary, but not enough. Vigilance
calls for continuous wakefulness, from one moment to the next. In the
passage of Romans cited earlier, St. Paul says that “now” is the hour for you
to awake from sleep. Some translations of the same verse read: “it is now the moment
for you to wake from sleep” (NRSV). Each moment of every day requires us to be
vigilant—to open our hearts to the voice of the Lord and to keep watch over our
thoughts, words, and actions. There is an element of urgency involved.
Third, this involves great
struggle. It is usually difficult to fight against drowsiness to remain physically awake through the night. Likewise,
it is difficult to remain spiritually
awake from moment to moment. Satan employs many tactics to lull us into
interior drowsiness or lure us away from God with exterior distractions. He is
always at work to disrupt our vigilance and to lead us away from doing God’s
will.
The perfect demonstration of this spiritual struggle is played out
in the garden of Gethsemane through very physical
means, as Cummings explains:
The agony of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane was his struggle
against the demonic power of darkness threatening to invade his heart and
obliterate the light of his Father’s will. Jesus, praying at night in
Gethsemane, is the model for watchers. His spirit proved master of his flesh,
so that when the soldiers came to arrest him they found him prepared, awake, at
prayer, ready to submit to his Father’s will. Jesus had asked his companions to
watch and pray with him, but they all yielded to the weakness of the flesh and
fell asleep; they were unprepared and fled in fright when the soldiers came. (Monastic Practices, p.141).
At Gethsemane, Jesus showed us how to be vigilant—not so much
physically as spiritually, so that we may always be prepared to do God’s will,
especially amid trial and temptation. All
Christians are called to practice such vigilance—not only to intercede for
others, but especially for their own salvation.
However, Benedictine oblates, monks, and sisters have responded to
a “call within that call.” That does not mean that everyone must stay up all
night and pray—or even keep the same schedule as monks. Mostly, it means waking
up from the spiritual slumber that constantly entices us and remaining watchful
every moment of every day. It means, as St. Benedict says at the very beginning
of his Rule, to listen with the ears
of the heart to what God has to say. And this is for your own conversion. So,
we must wake up and listen.
St. Benedict lays this out in verse 8 of the Prologue to his Rule when he says:
Let us get up then, at long last, for the Scriptures rouse us when
they say: It is high time for us to arise
from sleep (Romans 13:11). Let us open our eyes to the light that comes
from God, and our ears to the voice from heaven that every day calls out this
charge: If you hear his voice today, do
not harden your hearts (Psalm 95:8).
In short, St. Benedict is saying: “Wake up! Your eternal life
depends upon it.”
At this point, you may be saying: “OK, but how do I do that,
exactly?” That is a good question, and I am not going to attempt an answer here—at
least not fully. Vigilance is a rich topic, and I suggest that you pray over the next several months. So, what I’m
going to offer here are just a few ideas to get you started.
First, vigilance is complicated. There are things we can do to remain watchful, and there
are things that only God can do to
help us. Here, grace truly builds on nature. It is a cooperative venture.
In this regard, it must be noted that the call to “arise from
sleep” must be understood in terms of baptismal
spirituality, “in a way that resonates sacramentally and existentially with
the resurrection of Christ” (Georg Holzherr, The Rule of St. Benedict: An Invitation to the Christian Life p.16).
This baptismal spirituality can be illuminated perhaps most fully
by meditating on this famous passage from the Letter to the Ephesians:
Live as children
of light, for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and
true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in
the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. …Therefore it says,
‘Sleeper, awake!
Rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.’
Rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.’
Be careful then
how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the
time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what
the will of the Lord is. …Be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms
and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to
the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for
everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Ephesians 5:8-11, 14-20, NRSV)
The sacrament of Baptism is something that is conferred upon us by God’s grace. We cannot “achieve it” on our
own. However, it is a grace that we must, in faith, actively nurture and live
out. In one sense, the sacrament is like a spiritual alarm clock that prompts
us to arise from sleep. But we must respond and get up, and not simply hit the
snooze button. As the Catechism of the
Catholic Church states:
The faith required
for Baptism is not a perfect and mature faith, but a beginning that is called
to develop. … For all the baptized,
children or adults, faith must grow after Baptism.
(CCC 1253, 1254, italics added)
The Church, which includes the Benedictine order, is our guide and
support in this effort to become fully awake. Through our Benedictine charism,
we are striving in faith to live out our baptismal call to arise with Christ
from the sleep of spiritual death to eternal life in the Resurrection.
Second, our baptismal faith
must be rooted in prayer. St. Benedict tells us in his Prologue to begin
every good work with prayer (4). Authentic prayer is when we are most fully
awake to God’s call (and here we are speaking of private prayer).
Obviously, there are many ways of praying, depending on one’s
temperament and personality. So, there is no one formula or practice that works for everybody. How one should
pray is more a matter of attitude than method. Prayer is essentially about
vigilance—watching, waiting, and listening for the Lord.
In this respect, some of the Psalms and the prophets offer guidance.
For example:
I
will stand at my watch-post,
and station myself on the rampart;
I will keep vigil to see what the Lord will say to me.
and station myself on the rampart;
I will keep vigil to see what the Lord will say to me.
Habakkuk 2:1
In
the morning I offer you my prayer,
watching and waiting.
watching and waiting.
Psalm
5:4
In these passages, the prophet or the psalmist expresses a desire
to be silent, yet alert and watchful for the Lord’s presence. The prayer he
offers is one of trust, hope, and peace. He expects
to hear or see the Lord, and so remains vigilant and eager to do his will. This
is the overall model or attitude we should take to prayer, whatever individual
form it may take.
Third, this prayerful watchfulness should translate into attentiveness in all aspects of our lives—both
interiorly and exteriorly. Unfortunately, we are often quick to speak, slow to
listen (cf. James 1:19). We are often immediately ready to offer observations
and opinions on the people and circumstances around us rather than prayerful reflection.
This must be reversed. Speaking—if, and when it is called for—should always
emanate from a place of attentiveness and charity. Consider what a difference it
would make in the world if everyone did that!
The goal is to be aware of, and to examine, our thoughts, impulses,
and motivations before acting upon
them—a task, indeed, that seems contrary to human nature. But by practicing
vigilance, it can and should become second nature. Living out our baptismal
faith is about so much more than simply keeping the commandments. It means, as
Trappist monk Michael Casey has put it, “going the extra mile by being on the
lookout for further occasions of attaching the will to what is good, of
changing our actions to something better than what we intended, of showing
love. Simultaneously it is a means of blocking the unexamined impulses of
self-will and its ambition to be in control of every situation” (The Road to Eternal Life, p.32).
This also involves being attentive to the voice of our God-given
conscience: those little “pinpricks” we experience internally when we say or do
something regretful or fail to say or do something we know is for the good.
It’s important to listen to our conscience so that we experience those
grace-filled moments of realization—things like “I should not have said that,”
or “Ah, now I understand this situation or person more clearly; I was wrong in
my previous judgment.” Such moments—what the monastic tradition calls compunction (piercing) of the heart—are
calling us to conversion, but we must remain vigilant and attentive to them. Prompted
by the Holy Spirit, they are trying to wake us up from our spiritual slumber.
Finally, it bears repeating that fostering an attitude of prayerful
vigilance and interior attentiveness requires a reduction (sometimes a substantial reduction) of the noise,
chatter, commotion, and sensory stimulation in our lives. To hear God’s voice,
we need to turn down the volume elsewhere. As Michael Casey again states:
Becoming more spiritually aware means moving toward a low-impact
environment. The voice of conscience and the words of the Gospel are but a
still, small voice in our noisy universe. … [Otherwise] we are so awake on one
level that there is no room for a more interior awakening. Most of us cannot
truly listen to another speaking if we are simultaneously watching television,
texting on our cell phone, and internally fretting about some imagined
grievance. In the same way, we cannot be spiritually aware without turning down
the volume of other voices. To be awake and alert spiritually we have to limit
the amount of attention we give to other areas. (The Road to Eternal Life, p.33).
I encourage you to spend some time thinking and praying
about all of this. Ask yourself: “Am I
awake spiritually? … What do I need to wake up more fully? … How can that be
addressed?” Reflect upon what vigilance looks like in your life (or what you hope it looks
like).
In the meantime: Wake up! Remain vigilant! Be
prepared!
Thursday, December 12, 2019
'I am your merciful Mother'
"I am your merciful Mother, to you, and to all the inhabitants of this land and all the rest who love me, invoke and confide in me. … Nothing should frighten or grieve you. Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear any sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything."
Words of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan
Diego in December 1531
as recorded in Nican Mopohua, a 16th century historical account
of the apparitions written by Antonio Valeriano
as recorded in Nican Mopohua, a 16th century historical account
of the apparitions written by Antonio Valeriano
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