Friday, August 28, 2015

A Restless Heart

Today is the feast day of Saint Augustine, so today in the Catholic Church--as well as in the Episcopal, Lutheran and Anglican Churches--we commemorate this particular saint on this specific date on the calendar, as we do with other saints on other dates.  Yesterday was the feast day of Saint Monica, the mother of Saint Augustine, who prayed tirelessly for the spiritual welfare of Saint Augustine.  In recalling saints on their feast days, we remember them during prayers.  At Vigils, we hear ecclesial readings by and about these specific saints.  During Mass, the priest might mention the particular saint during the sermon.  As was the case today, the priest presiding at Mass devoted his entire homily to sharing about Saint Augustine.

Saint Augustine tirelessly sought the truth, including its origin, and the truth of his own identity.  In his book which he aptly entitled "Confessions," which he addressed to God, Saint Augustine asserts how wretched he feels he had been before he realized his true identity in God.  Last month I finished reading his "Confessions," which resonated in my being.  In his "Confessions," Saint Augustine contends, "You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in You."

I myself have sought to satisfy the deepest longings of my heart, my soul and my spirit.  I have continued craving a kind of satisfaction which never dissipates.

When I was a lawyer, I was dissatisfied.  Honestly I am grossly understating the state of my being during that period of my life.  As an attorney I was forcing myself for years to stay in a profession which I knew was not my vocation.  Back in those days I did not ask myself what my vocation was, that is, the particular pursuit to which God was calling me.  I merely kept being a lawyer so I could pay off my debt in what seemed to be the quickest way possible, and, as I thought of it back then, so I could get on to doing whatever it was that I was really supposed to be doing.

While I was a lawyer, even though I had read nearly none of the writings of the Trappist monk Thomas Merton, in essence I had already long felt the truth of many of Merton's statements about our spiritual identities.  Often I have thought of one of his statements which essentially communicates the sentiment that maybe I will be happy if I do what I think will bring me happiness, rather than continuing to try to do what others think will make me happy.

Thus I quit my well-paying job as an attorney where I had excellent benefits.  I joined the Peace Corps.  I moved to Morocco.  I moved to the desert.  There I enjoyed solitude, silence and stillness in the many hours when I had no work to do.  I spent that quiet time alone engrossed in spiritual reading.  I sought God.  In that silence, solitude and stillness, I felt I could better hear God.

Thus for years now I have been trying to listen to God.  I have been trying to follow His plan for my life.  It was in Morocco that I first wondered if God had been calling me to be a monk.  Following this potential invitation, I began visiting monasteries.  Continuing to respond to how God seemed to be calling me to become a monk, I became a postulant here at this hermitage.

The word "postulant" comes from the Latin verb "postulare," which means "to ask."  A postulant is one who asks to be admitted into a religious order.  Postulants are seen as knocking, asking for admission into monasteries and hermitages.  They are seeking permission to enter.  They are trying to determine if they have properly discerned a call to consecrated religious life in a particular religious order.

I feel that my consideration of my inquiry into the accuracy of my vocational discernment is brought into appropriate relief this week in particular.  Now, this week, the monks here and I are on our community retreat.  We have a week's time in which we are able to focus more on contemplation.  We continue to have Mass and the Liturgy of the Hours this week, for the most part as regularly scheduled.  However, the monks and I are not on the work schedule this week.  The employees of the hermitage and some volunteers are working here this week.  With the additional time freed up this week, I have been spending much time immersed in spiritual reading.  I have been spending more time alone, more time silent.  I have found myself more easily sitting still.  In the more intense silence and solitude and stillness, we are better disposed to listen to God.

Our retreat master, a Franciscan priest, is leading us through seminars covering Franciscan influences on Thomas Merton, including the medieval Franciscan priest Duns Scotus.  Scotus seems to have heavily influenced Merton's ideas about our true selves and our false selves.  Merton asserts that our true self is who God has always intended us to be.  Our false self is anything else and everything else.  Our false self is peddled to us by certain societal expectations, by various kinds of advertising, by anyone and anything which leads us away from what God has in mind for us.

People often trick themselves into thinking that they want and need things other than they truly, most deeply desire and require.  When in solitude, amidst silence and stillness, away from distractions, one can effectively plumb the depths of one's being.  In the deepest recesses of our souls, we can find the answer of what our truest identity is.

For a long time I have been asking myself if I have been becoming more and more the person God has always meant me to be.  When I was much younger, I was asking the question less consciously.  These days I pose the question much more explicitly.

I have read, and, over time, I have come to believe, that God created us to love and serve and praise Him, and to love and serve our neighbor.  There are many ways to love and serve and praise God and to love and serve our neighbor.  I would suggest to all people that they should indeed inquire how to love and serve and praise God and how to love and serve your neighbor.  However, I urge all people to question themselves more specifically.  How is God asking you in particular, you, the specific person you are, to love and serve and praise Him, and how God is asking you in particular to love and serve your neighbor?  

God wants you to use the skills that God has given to you.  God wants you to be happy as you love and serve and praise Him and as you love and serve your neighbor.  Thus Frederich Buechner has opined that "the place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

I feel joy here.  It may very well be that I feel this buoyancy here because I am being who and what God wants me to be.  I hope that I am always submitting to, and living as fully as I can, the truth of who and what God has always intended me to be.  My Lord and my God, not my will be done, but Your will be done.  Amen.  

Friday, August 21, 2015

Heaven Right Now

Over the last couple of days I traveled up to the Monterey area and the peninsula in the San Francisco Bay Area with one of the monks from here for a couple of doctor's appointments.  We stayed overnight in the Bay Area.  I got to go back to Casa de Clara, that is, the San Jose Catholic Worker House, where I lived and worked in the latter half of last year.  I so enjoyed spending time with my friends, the Catholic Workers and the guests to whom they minister, there.  That night I visited, one of the women who used to live there as a guest, who since has moved out into her own place, was celebrating one year being clean from drugs and sober from alcohol.  In joyous commemoration of her recovery, we celebrated with a barbeque in the back yard.

Yesterday, on the way back to the hermitage, my traveling companion the monk and I stopped in Carmel for malted milkshakes.  As we sat on a bench outside enjoying our malts, some men we had never met were walking past us.  One of them greeted us.

"Hi, guys."

"Hello," I responded.

"Does it get any better than this?" he asked.

"No, it doesn't," I replied.

"You're right: it doesn't get better than this," he agreed.

"I like his attitude," I later shared with the monk sitting next to me.

"Me too."

We shape our experience.  Heaven can be right now if we want it to be.