Not Driven to Despair…

Last week in Adoration I was reading an editorial in my September Magnificat on the Jubilee Year of the Apostle Paul, specifically regarding Saint Paul and the Cross of Christ.  Honestly, I don’t remember much from it because some scripture that was quoted grabbed me, struck me with wonder, and that was the end of that.

Gal 2: 19-20a  For through the law I died to the law,  that I might live for God. I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me;

2 Cor 4: 6-11  For God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of (Jesus) Christ. But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being given up to death for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.

 While our circumstances are normalizing, my mind and heart are not.  It is as though I have undergone a very fundamental ’sea change’ and, to mix metaphors, have not my sea legs as yet.  I wish I had the words to share what these verses are to me… but there seems to be a growing silence and stillness within that steals the words from me.  So I leave them here for you in the hopes that you will also find the treasure in them.

Wretched Food…

We’ve only lived here about four months and let me tell you, I am SPOILED.  Father is on vacation. 

Having lived in three states in the past few years and visited many more parishes than our local ones as part of the job interview process in each prospective community, we had one really good parish.  The others were mediocre at best and some of them were down right scary.  I am not talking a lack of aesthetics, I’m talking teaching and homilies and treatment of the Blessed Sacrament that would wipe Papa Ben’s smile right off his face. In these parishes, we reminded ourselves that the Eucharist was still there and did what we could to continue growing in our faith even when the priest etc was letting the parishioners down, staying and praying for that parish and its priests…. but we grumbled.

Our parish here has been fabulous.  Talk about an on fire, dedicated, passionate, priest not only faithful to the magisterium but seriously dedicated to the souls in his care. The seminarian is an excellent complement to him and between the two of them it has been an incredible summer.  Our seminarian returned to school a few weeks ago and we are already feeling the loss keenly, particularly with Father gone. As I said, we have gotten spoiled… not complacent by any means, but spoiled none the less.

Yesterday, I was going over the Mass readings between Benediction and Mass.  The first reading was Numbers 21:4b-9.  I got stuck at the end of verse 5.

4b But with their patience worn out by the journey, 5 the people complained against God and Moses, “Why have you brought us up from Egypt to die in this desert, where there is no food or water? We are disgusted with this wretched food!”

It suddenly hit me, totally out of the blue, that I am guilty of griping about the ‘wretched food.’  I have been worn out in the past by the moves journey and complained to God saying, “Why have you brought us out from where we had it so good to this place with a spiritually anemic parish, a horrible priest, and unfriendly people wretched food?” Ouch. That was all BEFORE Mass.  Did I mention that Father is on vacation?

We had a visiting priest.  If I had thought the lesson was over once Mass began, I had another think comin’. It was case in point, or point in case rather, illustrated by the opening prayer.

God our Father, in obedience to you your only Son accepted death on the cross for the salvation of (hu)mankind.  We acknowledge the mystery of the cross on earth.  May we receive the gift of redemption in heaven. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

That red bit above was added courtesy of the visiting priest and it didn’t get better.  Sigh. It was like our wonderful new parish had been invaded by the ghosts of parishes past… and I had just been told I was a whiner.  Did I say ouch? Yeah. I hear ya Lord, no more complaining about the ‘wretched food’.* 

Father gets back on Wednesday and we are incredibly grateful.  He has been sorely missed.  Still, I will not forget this lesson and will continue to pray daily as a result for an increase in vocations, both to the priesthood and religious life, of those who will be like my priest.  Men and women faithful to the magisterium with a passion for both the people and the details which make up our Liturgy and the Deposit of Faith we have been given, people who encourage others to greater holiness by their example and their presence. Praying not with an attitude of complaint but of gratitude… for the GOOD priests out there and that God would give us MORE of them.

If you are like me and have been in the past, or still are, stuck in a parish that seems to hurt more than it helps, I ask you to join me in prayer.  I encourage you to offer up the suffering you experience on behalf of vocations, begging God for a priest after His own heart – not only for your parish, but for all parishes like it in the world.  Instead of complaining about the “wretched food,” let us turn to God in thanksgiving for what we have and pray that He will raise up holy, godly young men and women who will ‘feed’ the generations to come well.

 

*Just noting that ‘no more complaining about wretched food’ doesn’t mean no more speaking out about abuses and failings generally which need to be corrected.  That we are required to do as an spiritual work of mercy.

Successful Evangelization…

I talked to a Baptist family member the other day as well… and as I was sharing something withhim a discussion I’d had with Pumpkin (dd almost 16) over the philosophies embraced by our country, particularly during the 20th century through today, how that had impacted our society and what it meant for our future, he brought up Rick Warren’s hosting of a debate for the presidential candidates as an example to illustrate what he thought was my point.  He thought it was so wonderful and spoke to how godly our country had become that it would ask a pastor like Rick Warren to mc such a debate.

Not exactly.  Rick Warren and the debate are a good example but not of how good Christians are at evangelizing.  Those philosophies I mentioned having been embraced by our country were individualism, hedonism, and minimalism.  These have permeated not only the secular culture but have ‘evangelized’ Christians as well… so well  and so subtly in fact, that many Christians who’s lives and attitudes are very much ruled by these philosophies would argue that they are not guilty of holding such anti-Christian philosophies at all. 

The fact that our individualistic, hedonistic, and minimalistic country is so comfortable with Rick Warren hosting a secular debate tells me something… but it isn’t so much about our country as about Rick Warren. 

I am guilty of these sinful philosophies myself and am working at rooting them out of my own life. 

I had no idea that the ‘rugged individualism’ that was held up as a virtue  when I was growing up was in fact a vice more often than not.  I did not realize that the desire to protect the rights of the individual could become such a ferocious and ungodly monstrosity that any godliness in the effort had long been cast by the wayside. I did not anticipate the rights of the individual taking precedent over the good of society as a whole or even over right and wrong.   Freedom to do what is right, that which we once held so precious, has become freedom to live a Burger King life… ‘your way, right away’ no matter who it hurts while all the while buying the lie that (especially if private) it hurts no one.

Christ calls us to die to self. He calls us to give up not just small things but even our very lives for others.  We can not serve two masters.  We can not embrace self and die to self at the same time. There is a place for the individual in that death to self, but not to the detriment of others and not when right and wrong must be redefined in order to satisfy the wants or perceived needs of that individual.

I did not realize that I had bought into the pleasure seeking greed of hedonism… no idea that my tendency to laziness, to indulging in things that pleased my senses, to over-indulging in things that tasted good, were indicators of a philosophy in direct opposition to the godliness I sought in my spiritual life. 

Christ calls us to take up our cross.  He does not call us to health or wealth or pleasure in sensuous (think 5 senses here please – not just or even primarily sexual) things.  He calls us to embrace suffering.  Christ suffered.  He suffered not only in His Passion, but during His life as well.  So too, in being transformed into Christ-likeness, are we called to suffer.  This calls us far beyond the shallow pleasures of hedonism into a deep and lasting joy.

It never occurred to me that the ‘least necessary’ wasn’t ‘good enough’.  I was not only settling for, but SEEKING mediocrity in every area of my life without ever realizing I was doing so.  In fact, I would have argued vehemently with anyone suggesting the Truth. 

Christ calls us to give our very best, to give everything we have.  Even if our work involves changing diapers or emptying bedpans or picking up garbage in front of homes or along the highways, regardless how dirty or anonymous and unrecognized the job, Christ calls us to give our best… We are called to excellence. Our best may not be the same as someone else’s… but we aren’t called to be the best, only to give OUR best. ‘Good enough’ isn’t an option for us.

Rick Warren moderating a presidential debate is far from evidence of how well we Christians have evangelized our society… it is rather evidence of how well some of us have been evangelized by it… and we don’t even realize it.

God have mercy.

Herman the Cripple…

As I said Father recommended some reading material recently.  Here is yet another offering from Stumbling Blocks or Stepping Stones: Spiritual Answers to Psychological Questions by Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel, C.F.R.  This poem was written by a physician admirer of Blessed Herman.

 

Herman The Cripple
by
William Hart Hurlbut, M.D.

I am least among the low,
I am weak and I am slow;
I can neither walk nor stand,
Nor hold a spoon in my own hand.

Like a body bound in chain,
I am on a rack of pain,
But He is God who made me so,
that His mercy I should know.

Brothers do not weep for me!
Christ, the Lord, has set me free.
All my sorrows he will bless;
Pain is not unhappiness.

From my window I look down
To the streets of yonder town,
Where the people come and go,
Reap the harvest that they sow.

Like a field of wheat and tares,
Some are lost in worldly cares;
There are hearts as black as coal,
There are cripples of the soul.

Brothers do not weep for me!
In his mercy I am free.
I can neither sow nor spin,
Yet, I am fed and clothed in Him.

I have been the donkey’s tail,
Slower than a slug or snail;
You my brothers have been kind,
Never let me lag behind.

I have been most rich in friends,
You have been my feet and hands;
All the good that I could do,
I have done because of you.

Oh my brothers, can’t you see?
You have been as Christ for me.
And in my need I know I, too,
Have become as Christ for you!

I have lived for forty years
In this wilderness of tears;
But these trials can’t compare
With the glory we will share.

I have had a voice to sing,
To rejoice in everything;
Now Love’s sweet eternal song
Breaks the darkness with the dawn.

Brother’s do not weep for me!
Christ, the Lord, has set me free.
Oh my friends, remember this:
Pain is not unhappiness.

One Very Ill…

Father recommended some reading material recently.  One of those books is Stumbling Blocks or Stepping Stones: Spiritual Answers to Psychological Questions by Fr. Benedict J. Groeschel, C.F.R.  Close to the end of the book I found several things that really spoke to me.  One of them was a prayer, a prayer of hope but of hope born of pain and suffering.

The Prayer of One Very Ill…

Lord, the day is drawing to a close and, like all the other days, it leaves with me the impression of utter defeat. I have done nothing for You: neither have I said conscious prayers, nor performed works of charity, nor any work at all, work that is sacred for every Christian who understands its significance.  I have not even been able to control that childish impatience and those foolish rancors that so often occupy the place that should be Yours in the “no-man’s land” of my emotions.  It is in vain that I promise You to do better.  I shall be no different tomorrow, or on the day that follows. 

When I retrace the course of my life, I am overwhelmed by the same impression of inadequacy.  I have sought You in prayer and in the service of my neighbor, for we cannot separate You from our brothers any more than we can separate our body from our spirit.  But in seeking You, do I not find myself?  Do I not wish to satisfy myself? Those works that I secretly deemed good and saintly dissolve in the light of approaching eternity, and I dare no longer lean on these supports that have lost their stability.

Even actual sufferings bring me no joy, because I bear them so badly.  Perhaps we are all like this: incapable of discerning anything but our own wretchedness and our own despairing cowardice before the light of the Beyond that waxes on our horizon.  But it may be, O Lord, that this impression of privation is part of a divine plan.  It may be that, in Your eyes, self-complacency is the most obnoxious of all fripperies, and that we must come before you naked so that You, You alone, may clothe us.  

 ~Marguerite Teilhard de Chardin, president of the Catholic Union of the Sick, and sister of the well known Jesuit writer Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Mourning the Loss/Embracing the New

You know it’s bad when you have been attending  your new parish for three months and as you arrive at the stop sign at the end of the road leaving the Church, your youngest says ‘Every week at this stop sign, we say how much we miss our old Parish.’ Yeah. That’s bad.  It isn’t so much that the new parish isn’t a good one, as that the old one was so wonderful.  We can’t help but compare the two and while we are doing our best to embrace the current parish, we do mourn for what we’ve lost… and it is substantial.

Tonight we attended our first Adoration in the new parish.  They have a Holy Hour once per month on Wednesday nights, during which they also have what they call a ‘penance service’.  What that really translates to is that Father is available in the Reconciliation Room during the Holy Hour for confessions.  I am very grateful for any Adoration time at ALL.  I can’t imagine NOT having it. There were about 20 adults there, made up of several couples and one other family with younger children than ours.  Not bad for such a small parish.  However, the conversation at the stop sign tonight still turned to the old parish where we had 24 hours of Adoration once per month. Dh and I regularly had one of the wee hours all to ourselves.  A very different experience I must say.  All regret aside, it was wonderful to spend time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament once again.

Mother Teresa’s Dark Night…

This was taken from a post on the homeschooling forums in response to the recent news article on  Mother Teresa… it is always so incredibly hard to write of this experience I thought I would save it in case I ever need to write about it again… at least I’ll have something to work with and not have to start from scratch.

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Not for one moment do I deny the human ability to burn out, to despair, to lose sight of hope in the face of insurmountable odds, the desire to escape. However, given my limited understanding and knowledge of Mother Teresa’s life and experience, as well as what I am about to share here, I do not believe that to be the case in her situation.

I told RNW that I hate it when she extracts a promise from me to post my own personal experience with the dark night of the soul and then goes and starts her post on the subject (as she does every. stinkin’. time.) with some comment about the Great Saints Through Time (How do you TM again?). Not only is it extremely difficult to share, like walking in here completely in my bday suit on my worst body day, but I always think, no. way. am I responding NOW… sigh… not after what SHE said… but she is right when she admonishes me to inform you all that it is NOT only Saints of the type of Mother Teresa, Padre Pio etc et al who experience the Dark Night. It isn’t. Ordinary, sinful, wretched refuse of awful examples of Christianity like myself can also experience it. It does not come from any of the things described here. It does not come from insurmountable obstacles. It does not come from a desire for escapism. it does not come from despair. It does not come from burn out. Neither do any of these things come remotely close to describing the dark night of the soul. I have experienced all of those things, and I tell you, compared to the dark night, they are peaks of unspeakable joy.

We do not realize, before that experience comes, just how much we truly sense the Presence of God. Even in those ‘winters’ or ‘valleys’ when we don’t ’sense’ Him in the usual way and feel alone, He is there and we are aware of Him… it is only a reduced or more limited Presence than normal. The dark night came out of nowhere. One moment He was there, closer than my own breath, and the next moment He was gone. Not a winter. Not a limited Presence. Gone. All awareness of that Presence extinguished so completely that one feels this inexpressible horrific void so intense you almost feel as though you are in freefall in an inky blackness. At first, the shock and panic are combatted by reassurances of one’s self that we have experienced winters in the spiritual life before and I began to deal with it as such. However, it soon became readily apparent that this was nothing of the kind. That desolate Absence was pervasive. I was never without it. I hate to use a Harry Potter analogy, but it was not unlike the Kiss of the Dementor (this was long before the HP books, but the analogy helps)… eventually I began to wonder if I would ever know joy again. I began to wonder if God had forsaken me. I began to wonder if I had done something, sinned in some way that would cause God to turn from me so completely. I began to understand what kind (though obviously incredibly dimly) of desolation might have caused Christ to cry out to God from the Cross. I began to wonder if I had committed the unforgiveable sin and blasphemed the Holy Spirit. I examined myself endlessly to no avail and found nothing out of the ordinary, nothing I could pinpoint which may have caused this abandonment by my Lord. I repented of everything I could remember and begged forgiveness of all that I had done and didn’t KNOW to confess. I went through various ’stages’ before wondering if I had lost my salvation entirely. What if I had? What if I had done something which would cause a Holy, Just God to forever banish me from His Presence? What if I was ****ed? What then? There came a time after much agony, much mental and emotional suffering, when everything stilled and got quiet. My emotions were calmed and in the midst of that great void in which I had been existing for some time it came to me. The question. So what if I have no hope of heaven? Let’s say that the worst case scenario is indeed true. What will I do then? What if, no matter that Christ died for me, that I believe completely in Him, in his sacrifice for me, that I have loved and served Him, obeyed His commands as best I could, not because I think it will get me anything but because I love Him… what if in spite of ALL of that…God forever ****s me to hell? What then? How do I then live? Do I ‘live it up’ and make the most of the time I have left because I’m gonna burn in hell anyway? Or do I live it anyway?

The answer was that I live it anyway. I love Him anyway. Though He slay me, abandon me, reject me, **** me, yet will I praise Him, worship Him, love Him, adore Him. I faced what was on every face the very reality that I had, in fact, lost my ’salvation’… my hope of heaven… and I decided that despite all of that, I would live every day, every moment, every breathe as best I could pointing others to Him, testifying to His glory, His majesty, His wonder. With that decision came a feeling of resolution, a contentment with my decision and yet the void was unabated. I began to live again with that focus in the midst of the void, in the unbearable Absence. Living out that choice.

Then one day, some time afterward when I was completely past even wondering about any alternative, I realized that the Presence had returned. He had once again shared Himself with me. Slowly, almost surreptitously, He had wrapped Himself around me like a fleece blanket round a sleeping child on a cool night. I remember the wonder of that realization… the tears that began to run down my face as I realized that He had not abandoned me at all, had been there all the time, but had completely removed His Presence ENTIRELY, that He might teach me something… something that I could not learn had any hope, any feeling, been left for me to cling to. I’ve never been the same since. I can’t really get into the ‘how can I know I’m saved’ discussions because it just really isn’t about that for me anymore. Do I WANT to be ****ed? No, do I WANT to spend eternity in hell? NO, I WANT to serve God with every cell and atom of my being, every fiber of my soul, for the rest of eternity… but I don’t want to do it anymore for what I’ll get out of it, I don’t even think about that anymore… but because He is worth it. I will serve with what ever time I am given to do so, and should He send me to the bowels of hell, yet will I worship Him.

Perhaps Mother Teresa experienced all those ‘human’ emotions mentioned early in this post at some point, maybe even more than once… but it was not the cause of her dark night. It would’ve been completely separate and on top of that dark night, in addition to it. Her ministry was not the cause of her dark night… her ministry was the result of it. The result of her great, abiding, selfless, tenacious, self sacrificing, love for her Lord… though He choose to slay her, abandon her, reject her, withhold Himself from her… she chose to LIVE for Him… and look at her LIFE… LOOK at the depth of her LOVE… truly, hers is one of the few lives I ever thought, while not able to EVER equal, came close to answering Jesus great cry of agonizing love from the Cross.
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Love and Sacrifice…

Let us remember that love, in order to survive, must be nourished by sacrifices.
— Bl. Mother Teresa

Temptation Also Reads…

I was on the phone with a friend the other day discussing the Temptation issue.  She was sharing with me something she had been given in her own struggles with that issue and it resonated in a very deep way.  I forgot to mention it in the Temptation post and was going to just do another one when in chatting with her on the phone TODAY she mentioned having blogged it…  *insert angelic alleluia chorus* …which of course makes my desire to share EASIER!

So, if you got anything out of the Temptations post, please visit Red Neck Woman over at Postscripts From the Catholic Spitfire Grill  and read Stigmata. 

Not only that, but she has another post just under that called Arrogant Humility.  It is a very good read for a number of reasons and if you are reading in the ‘Temptations’ and ‘Stigmata’ mindset there is much good insight in this one as well that might otherwise be missed in favor of the main ‘humility’ theme.  The quote from C.S. Lewis’  The Great Divorce ties it all up rather neatly.

This evening, I’m holding onto heaven moment by moment, one foot in front of the other…  I long for the ability to physically lash myself to the Cross lest my own strength should fail. These two posts have helped to ‘hold up my arms’ a bit and the help is much appreciated.

Suffering…

SUFFERING
I wonder what the world would be like
If there were not innocent people
Making reparation for us all…?
Today the passion of Christ is being relived
In the lives of those who suffer.
To accept that suffering is a gift of God.
Suffering is not a punishment.
God does not punish.
Suffering is a gift- Tho,
Like all gifts,
It depends on how we receive it.
And that is why we need a pure heart-
To see the hand of God,
To feel the hand of God,
To recognize the gift of God
In our suffering.
Suffering is not a punishment.
Jesus does not punish.
Suffering is a sign-
A sign That we have come so close To Jesus on the cross,
That He can kiss us,
Show that He is in love with us,
By giving us an opportunity to share
In His passion.
In our Home for the Dying
It is so beautiful to see
People who are joyful,
People who are lovable,
People who are at peace,
In spite of terrible suffering.
Suffering is not a punishment,
Not a fruit of sin,
It is a gift of God.
He allows us to share in His suffering
And to make up for the sins of the world.
~~ Mother Teresa