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.  

In You Alone

Every other Thursday evening at Vespers, amongst other Scripture passages, we sing the first six verses of Psalm 137.  Psalm 137: 1-6 reads as follows:

By the rivers of Babylon there we sat and we wept
remembering Zion.

On the poplars that grew there
we hung up our harps.

For it was there that they asked us, our captors for songs,
our oppressors for joy.

"Sing to us," they said,
"one of Zion's songs."

O how could we sing the song of the Lord
on alien soil?

If I forget you, Jerusalem,
let my right hand wither!

O let my tongue cleave to my mouth
if I prize not Jerusalem above all my joys!

After each verse or so, we sing the refrain "In you alone, Jerusalem, my joy!"  The Psalmist wrote these verses from the perspective of the Israelites, as a lament of homesickness over their homeland, over Jerusalem, when they were in exile in Babylon.  When reciting these verses, one is recalling the angst which the Israelites seemed to have felt at having been forced to leave their homeland and at their having been involuntarily relocated to live in another land.  Written to particular notes which seem particularly evocative of the melancholy which they understandably seemed to have felt, I have often brooded that the tune we sing which is set to these verses is especially apropos in expressing the anguish which the Israelites seemed to have felt.

However, during the most recent instance when we sung these verses, I felt them.  No longer did I intellectually, dispassionately conclude that these particular notes fit the words we sung.  Rather, I felt their place in my heart.

Why did I feel the emotion inherent in these specific verses?  I felt the truth of these words because this truth, in a certain, related sense, has abided in my heart, and I have increasingly come to realize this truth.  I have come desperately to seek this truth, which I have felt especially reflected by particular experiences in my life.  

For two years I lived in Morocco while I served there as a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer).  While I lived there, often I felt homesick.  I went to live in the desert there.  I lived in the desert in the literal sense.  I resided in the southeasternmost region of Morocco, in the Sahara Desert.  

However, I also lived in the desert in a figurative sense.  I was removed from much of what I knew, living in a culture significantly different from the one in which I had previously lived for decades.  Being presented daily with different customs and norms, I was constantly reminded that I was living in a foreign land.  

Not only was I always being reminded that I was away from home, I knew less of home while I was there.  I did not even hear the news as often or access the internet as much as I did when I had lived in the states.  Of course, while I lived there, I also saw less of, and heard less from, my family and friends in the states.  

Even amongst others living there who were also from my homeland, often I was isolated from other PCVs and other expats from the U.S. for much of the time I lived in Morocco.  During my Peace Corps service, at times other PCVs lived close to me.  However, during other periods, no other PCVs lived near me.  

Often it is during circumstances which we would not choose when God surprises us.  When we are deprived of what we expect, what we know, what is comfortable, often it is then that we learn, about ourselves, about what we can accomplish with God's help, who we are, and who God is calling us to be.  

When I was a PCV, I had a lot of time by myself.  I had much time which was not spent working.  I did my best to try to make good use of the solitude.  Being alone, consequently I also experienced much silence and stillness.  I spent much of my time in solitude reading.  As my service progressed, I read more and more spiritual writings.  Increasingly I sought God.  I strove consciously and deliberately to listen to God.  As I read the Bible, I began to crave reading The Word.  I felt God was drawing me closer.

While at times I felt like I was not being nourished, since I wanted to work more than I was working, simultaneously I felt nourished in the care and guidance I was receiving from God.  Despite my homesickness and solitude, I sought to embrace the circumstances in which I found myself.  I aspired to become who and what God was inviting me to be.

From this perspective, in hindsight, now I value and cherish this period in my life when I was faced with these challenging circumstances in Morocco.  Now when I consider this time of my life, which contained so much isolation and solitude, I see that through it God was drawing me closer, to become who and what God has meant me to be.  

Thus now when I think back to the day I arrived to start permanently living in the town in which I lived for two years, I understand how apropos the soundtrack was.  After I arrived in that town on the bus, I was carrying my duffel bag as I walked past a cafe.  In the cafe, through a stereo was playing the song "Sacrifice" by Elton John, which sounded all the way out to the street where I was walking.  As I heard the lyrics, "It's no sacrifice; it's no sacrifice at all," I thought, 'It's very appropriate that this song is playing as I walk by this cafe right now, but I can't articulate why it's so fitting right now.'  I suspected that with time, it would become clear why that song was so appropriate.  

Now I think, "Of course I went there.  Of course I moved to Morocco."  I went to live in the desert, yes, literally, but more importantly, figuratively.  Amidst the challenges of life there, I opened my heart to God.  I sought to listen to God, to follow The Way God set before me.  I have aspired to follow God's will for my life, yet submitting to God's will is much more of a joy than a burden.  

From this vantage point, presently I consider it to have been no sacrifice at all to have searched for my true identity, to become who God has always meant me to be.  It is no sacrifice at all to try to be true to myself and true to God: all of these endeavors are one and the same thing, if one is truly seeking God and is truly being honest with oneself.  I seek my right relationship with God, with who God wants me to become.  God wants me to be myself, since God wants me to be happy.  

Thus I truly feel it when I sing, "Let my tongue cleave to my mouth if I prize not Jerusalem, [my God, who loves me infinitely,] above all my joys."  I am so grateful to know of God's undying love for me, to know that God is calling me, that God wants me to be happy, that God is simply calling me to be myself.  

Knowing these truths, I pray, let me not speak unless I am, directly or indirectly, serving or praising God, or serving my neighbor.  I hope that all that I think, say and do is to the service and praise of God, and to the service of my neighbor.  To God be all glory, praise and honor, now and forever.  Amen.  

What God Wants

Some things in life we must do.  If we want to stay alive in our bodies, we have to eat.  If we wish to keep living in these bodies, we have to keep breathing.  

We also are presented with matters of choice.  We make choices about mundane matters.  For those of us living in the first world, the vast majority of us make choices everyday about what we eat and drink.  

However, many homeless people in the first world often cannot eat whatever they like.  Additionally, very often in the first world we have choices which others elsewhere in the world do not have as luxuries.  For many people living in the third world, often they do not get to choose what to eat; they eat what they can get, if they get anything at all.  For some, they cannot even choose to eat, dying because they have not gotten enough to eat.  

Sometimes we are able to choose in which jobs we work.  However, even in the first world, when the economy is poor, we can only work in jobs which seem less than ideal to us.

Especially for those of us in the first world, usually we evaluate choices in life in terms of whether or not we want to do something.  If we want to do something, we do it.  If we don't want to do something, we don't do it.  

However, what if God wants us to do something which we don't want to do?  We can, and indeed should, pray to God to give us the grace and the strength to weather the storms and trials we must face, which we cannot avoid.  

However, what if we could avoid tribulation?  Understandably, we often want to escape it.  In such situations, what if we suspect that God wants us to undergo such trying circumstances?  Sometimes God tests us.  He wants us to show Him what is reflected in the absolute deepest recesses of our hearts.  In our most private, secret corners of our souls, do we wish to do God's will and submit to God, even if we have another, less painful option available to us? 

Under conditions in which we are presented with such formidable circumstances, which we could choose to avoid, but which we suspect God wants us to endure, we are being tested.  Do we truly want what God wants, or do we want only what we want?  

When confronted with the avoidable suffering to which God invites us, we can wisely choose to turn to Him.  We can become more than we have been: we can transcend our own narrow, short-sighted desires and plans.  Such a choice requires courage, yet such bravery is well-placed, since it reflects faith in God, who loves us infinitely, more than we can know and understand in this lifetime.  To trust in this way, one must think, pray, speak and act out of humility.  A humble, contrite heart, O Lord, you will not spurn.*  

Pray that your desire be conformed to God's will.  Pray that He transform what you want, so that it becomes what He wants.  Amen. 

* Psalm 51:19. 

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.