On The Way Through The Love Of Our Neighbor

In the last week of June and the first week of July, I went back east to visit my family.  As a monk of the hermitage, I get to visit my family once a year.  However, due to the coronavirus, this visit was delayed.  I hadn't seen my parents in a couple years; it had been more than a couple years since I'd seen my sister, as well as my brother and sister-in-law with my niece and my nephew.  It was wonderful finally to see them again.  

The day I flew out of California, I met up with Karen and Maureen, former co-workers; we worked together when I was a attorney.  It was fun to catch up with them.  They both were raised Catholic, so they understand various aspects of life at the hermitage.  That day I took off from California, I also gladly got to see Susan and Aurora.  We lived together at the Catholic Worker House; they're still Catholic Workers.  

When I was planning the trip, it had seemed like a great idea to leave the hermitage early in the day so I could see friends I hadn't seen in years.  Finally when I was on the redeye flight from San Francisco to New York and was getting almost no sleep, I began to see the consequences of that itinerary.  Again on the subway from JFK to Penn Station, I kept nodding off, immediately waking up after a few seconds.  

Once I got into Penn Station, I happily got a cup of Blue Bottle Coffee.  I was also happy to pop into Magnolia Bakery and get a blueberry muffin.  With a little sustenance, I headed over to the Amtrak ticket counter.  I told the clerk I was booked on the 11:25 a.m. train to Albany.  He asked me where my ticket was.  I'm so used to showing up at an airport and entering my frequent flyer number that I told him I didn't have a ticket.  

He asked me if I had it on my phone.  I pulled out the flip phone I was borrowing from another monk.  He noted, "Well, you won't have it on there."  I admitted, "This isn't even my phone.  I'm borrowing this just so I'd have a phone on this trip."  He asked me, "How can you not have a phone?"  I explained, "I live in an area with no cell phone signal."  He asked, "Where's that?"  I told him, "Big Sur, on the California coast."  

He printed my ticket to Albany to see my brother and his family, and the ticket back to Manhattan.  As I struggled to arrange my coffee, muffin, train tickets, backpack and rolling luggage, he wondered aloud, "How will you manage all that?"  I was able to negotiate it all and navigate my way due to his merciful, kind, caring nature.  Before I walked off, I thanked him for being patient with me amidst my disorganization.  

Let Us Let God Remake Us

Today in his homily Fr. Cyprian really got to the core of my basic orientation toward the coronavirus. Indeed, when the idea came into my head to blog expounding a little on what he'd said in his sermon, I stopped to consider that perhaps he'd already fully expressed it.  

Fr. Cyprian referred back to the first reading we heard at Mass tonight.  In that reading, we heard 

This word came to Jeremiah from the LORD:
Rise up, be off to the potter’s house;
there I will give you my message.
I went down to the potter’s house and there he was,
working at the wheel.
Whenever the object of clay which he was making
turned out badly in his hand,
he tried again,
making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased.
Then the word of the LORD came to me:
Can I not do to you, house of Israel,
as this potter has done? says the LORD.
Indeed, like clay in the hand of the potter,
so are you in my hand, house of Israel.*  

Fr. Cyprian explained that perhaps God is trying to remake us now.  Maybe we are being called right now to unlearn maladaptive habits which have become very comfortable.  Just because we're used to a certain way of thinking or acting, it doesn't mean it serves us well.  

Fr. Cyprian described that when we're addicted, we are overflowing with our addictions.  He continued that recovering addicts are told to visualize their addictions as being in a cup.  They're told to overturn the cup and let its contents spill out.  

Yet when we are emptied, then what do we do?  How can we fill ourselves?  How can we know what we need to fill us in a healthy way?  How can we nourish ourselves?  How can we provide the source of our own life?  

Instead of trying to fill ourselves, we can sit and wait.  We can practice patience.  We can develop the skill of sitting still.  We can learn to be silent.  We could listen instead of talking. We can try to be attentive to God.  

We embrace all of these difficult endeavors, they suddenly begin to happen, through the working of God's grace, when we're removed from the world.  If we give our consent, we give God free rein to work miracles in and through us.  Having stepped out of ourselves, God steps into us.  

Indeed, we have been extricated from our usual routines.  We have been given the blessing of being helped to step out of our maladaptive patterns.  

It wasn't until I quit my job as an attorney, accepted an invitation into the Peace Corps, moved to northern Morocco, and then went even deeper, moving into the Sahara Desert, that I had sufficiently departed from distractions to be able to consider a new way of being.  It was time.  
Sometimes we willingly choose to go into the desert.  The dry, arid expanse of the physical desert can be a good analogy for the metaphorical desert in which we feel deprived of all we had found so comforting.  

Yet if we stay where we are not challenged, how will we ever grow?  If we never step out of what is familiar to us, we will never step into the territory in which we find that we have been capable of more than we have ever been.  

Right now we have been picked up and dropped into a landscape where we have never been. How we will emerge from it is up to us.  Are we going to accept the invitation to become what we have never been, or stay right where we have always been?  

* Jeremiah 18:1-6 

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.  

From Here To There

Some people probably think I am insane.  I voluntarily left my well-paying job as an attorney.  By the time I left that job, every year I was accruing five weeks of vacation time.  We also got more than a half dozen holidays off every year.  I haven’t yet mentioned that we also got the week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day off.  As you might expect, the job had excellent benefits.  I was under relatively little stress at that job.  I even felt somewhat of a sense of fulfillment in that position.  As I insinuated at the beginning, there are people who likely think I am crazy. 

          However, I was just not happy.  I was not deriving enough satisfaction out of my work.  Later, I would conclude that I had not been sufficiently nourishing my soul in that employment.  At the time, I could not articulate specifically what my vocation was; I just knew I was not doing what I was supposed to be doing. 

          Accordingly, I left my job as a lawyer.  I got accepted into the Peace Corps.  I moved to Morocco. 

          Rather than spend significant time here describing my tenure as a Peace Corps Volunteer and my time in Morocco, I refer you to the blog I maintained when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer (see the link at the side of this webpage).  For present purposes, I merely offer a couple of pieces of information.  I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the field of Youth Development.  I taught English as a second language to Moroccan youths and otherwise helped them become more well-rounded individuals. 

While I spent a significant amount of time working, I also had a great deal of spare time.  I passed much of my free time reading.  As my time in Morocco progressed, I read more and more spiritual books.  I read the entire Bible.  I slowly savored “The Imitation of Christ” by Thomas a Kempis.  I read works of Thomas Merton. 

I also read about spiritual disciplines, namely, solitude yet also spiritual community, as well as serving others, living simply, praying, studying God’s Word, meditating upon it and submitting to God.  I noted that these practices were all tendencies I had been developing in Morocco, and that I hoped to retain them in whatever endeavor I next undertook. 

Soon after I read about the spiritual disciplines, I read Thomas Merton’s autobiography, “The Seven Storey Mountain.”  I realized that as a monk, Merton spent time in spiritual community as well as in solitude, and that he was serving others, was living a simple lifestyle, and was praying, and was reading The Word and was studying and meditating upon It.  He was trying to submit to God as much as he could.  I suddenly wondered, “Has God been calling me to be a monk?” 

In Morocco, I often thought about what I would do once I returned to the U.S.  I had been thinking that I wanted to use my skills to help people, so that I would be serving God, and doing what He wanted me to do.  Indeed, a vocation is the job or occupation to which God calls a person.  I hadn’t realized that in trying to determine what my next undertaking would be, I had been trying to discern my vocation.  I had been trying to figure out what particular work and lifestyle God had in mind for me. 

I had found that silence and solitude had been quite helpful as I discerned my vocation.  In my discernment, I had spent much time in prayer, much as contemplative monks do.  Some people might think of contemplative monks as escaping from the world.  Contemplative monks do not seek to shut out the world and never again have contact with the world.  Rather, they seek to share the fruits of their contemplative life with those who do not live in the monastery. 

Indeed, people come here to the hermitage sometimes only for part of the day, at times coming only for Mass.  Others come and often stay overnight here at the hermitage.  They come to enjoy the silence.  They clear their heads.  Have you ever made a bad decision?  Have you wished that you took more time to more carefully and calmly consider what you were doing?  We aim to help people sit in silence and stillness so that they make bring the fruits of such contemplation back into the rest of their lives. 

In the silence and the solitude I had had in Morocco, I found that I was better able to listen to God.  Yet back then, when I was so often in such a quiet space, alone, I was not aware what God, or even I, was doing in such a place.  Rather, I was not aware what God was doing in me, how He was transforming me and gently guiding me with the Holy Spirit. 

Although it seemed like a mystery as my life was unfolding, now, looking back, it seems obvious.  God was helping me evolve so that I would be happier.  God wants us to be happy in simply being ourselves.  We are to do what we are good at doing.  We are to meet the world’s needs.  We are to serve God and our neighbor.  However, in receiving this message, we are being directed in a way contradictory to what the world often tells us.  The world leads us to believe, and unfortunately, we do often erroneously convince ourselves, that we need to buy this particular thing, we need to have this other thing, we need to look a certain way.  Unfortunately, many of these messages are trying to deceive us into following illusions, and also unfortunately, we follow many of these misleading messages.  We will not have any of these possessions with us once we arrive on the other side of the divide between this life and the next.  Therefore, the question is raised: Do we even possess any of it?  In the material sense, in this life, yes, we can legally own property.  Yet we won’t own it in eternity.  All we have eternally are our souls, are our spirits.  We do well when we tend well to the spirits of ourselves and others. 

You might think of acting well now with a view to the next life as analogous to planning prudently for retirement.  People manage the income they have coming in now so that they will enjoy their retirement later.  All the more important it is to conduct oneself well now so as to later be living in eternal life.  That’s what God wants.  And in getting there, he wants us to be happy along the way. 

True happiness is far easier to achieve than it appears.  We are called to listen to God and to obey God.  In so doing, we gain freedom.  We are set free from things, no longer enslaved to them.  We are liberated from all which draws us away from Him. 

The prophet Isaiah proclaimed

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

because the Lord has anointed me;

He has sent me to bring good news to the afflicted,

to bind up the brokenhearted,

To proclaim liberty to the captives,

release to the prisoners[.]  Isaiah 61:1-2.

Jesus explained that He was making that Scripture passage come true as He was reading it one day in the synagogue.  Luke 4:16-21.  Jesus shows us The Way, and tells us the good news, which brings us back to God.  God calls us to our vocations so that we will become more ourselves.  In setting aside work, activities and lifestyles which, for many of us, do not bring us true happiness, we set ourselves free; we are no longer prisoners to the illusions which society demands us to impose upon ourselves.  When we accept the vocations to which God is calling us, we are no longer captives to the lives we were never meant to live.  When we open our hearts, we become who God has always intended us to be.  We are then truly, profoundly happy.