2010-08-19

Bl. Elizabeth of the Trinity's Heaven in Faith

Bl. Elizabeth of the Trinity was another Carmelite, a rough contemporary of St Therese. We read her "Heaven in Faith", a retreat she wrote for her sister. It is a ten-day retreat, which I would really like to make someday. It is about being a contemplative in the world, useful for the vast majority of us who will never be monks or cloistered nuns.

Bl Elizabeth impresses on the reader the mystical nature of the Mass: just as priests consecrated bread into Jesus, they ought to consecrate their people into Christ. The consecration at Mass makes the Church realize who she is; it builds up the Church, and is the power to help the Church become what she's supposed to be. The Mass participates in the inner life of the Holy Trinity: God is offered to God. Bl Elizabeth asks priests to offer her with Jesus at the altar. God lets men be priests so that grace can go out into the world from the consecration; the priestly vocation is for the sake of everyone's sanctification. The more you are identified with Christ, the more you give glory to the Father, and the more you participate in Jesus' salvific work in the world--he can save the world through you.

Bl Elizabeth teaches that you need self-knowledge so as to get more closely united to Jesus. You need to accept your limitations, the resistance in you to God, that Christ is not in parts of your heart as he should be. You need to encounter these suffering and privations. This isn't excusing your sins, but accepting that it's really part of you. Doing this will help you to realize how much Jesus loves you--he's been suffering it with you, longer than you have. He became incarnate and suffered your hurts, it isn't beneath him. Thus self-knowledge leads you to know the mercy of God. Have confidence in his mercy, so that you'll face your imperfections. Face the truth of what's in you, and know that Jesus suffers with you every time you hurt. The abyss of God's mercy is always, always deeper than the abyss of your misery.

Bl Elizabeth has a gift to build up priests and seminarians, sustaining them in their vocation: in friendship with her, she will teach you to pray; she'll teach contemplative prayer; she helps you get out of yourself so God can fill you. She shows the fruitfulness of suffering, and keeps us rooted in prayer. She reminds us that priestly vocations don't come about because the people called are better than everyone else. God chooses shipwrecks, so that at the end of the day they'll know the work was not theirs.

Heaven in Faith starts off with Scripture: "Father, I will that where I am they also whom You have given Me may be..." Her retreat starts with the movement of Jesus' heart. Jesus' prayers are always heard. The Father doesn't say no to the Son. My hope lies in Jesus' prayer for me--right now we need confidence in God's mercy. I need confidence in his mercy to me, not just other people. Remember, I live right now in the bosom of the Father. Jesus' deepest desire, that we might be where he is, begins right now; it is not a future state, not starting at death. Already in time, we can have a real being in God's presence that is not just psychological. Make a movement of faith; choose to live as if in the Father's bosom right now. How will that affect your identity, decision making, trust, confidence? Already we are in the bosom of the Father; we can't comprehend this except by faith.

The end of the first prayer of the first day of the retreat quotes St John's Gospel: "The slave does not remain with the household forever, but the son remains there forever." I need to choose which I want to be--slave or son.

The second prayer of the first day opens with "Remain in me". Be attentive to Christ, spend time with him. This remaining with him makes us able to hear his voice, speaking to us. Do try not to get distracted in Adoration, it keeps you from hearing him. In this prayer she exhorts us to her theme of confidence,trust in God's mercy.

St Therese's Story of a Soul

This work is St Therese of Lisieux's autobiography; I had this translation. She was a Carmelite nun in the late 19th century who had wanted to be a missionary. She is now a Doctor of the Church.

Her "little way" is all about living by love and making sacrifices which are completely hidden. This takes incredible strength of character. Her asceticism is much more difficult than physical asceticism: it is interior. But God does put noble desires in your heart, and gives you the ability to fulfil them. When you do find yourself joyfully making a sacrifice, thank Jesus for that grace; his attributes are lifting you up to be like him.

Therese had an incredible confidence in God's love and mercy towards us. I didn't really connect with her writing much; she seemed saccharine to me. I think a bit of it was based on my own life, not knowing how to relate to someone so ridiculuously nice and perfect as Therese seems. She is very encouraging, though. She was so focused on God's love and mercy that she though of his justice in terms of his making allowances for our weaknesses, given how frail is our nature. She wrote that "charity consists in putting up with all one's neighbour's faults, never being surprised by his weakness, and being inspired by the least of his virtues."

This was my favourite paragraph in her whole book:
It is not because I have been preserved from mortal sin that I fly to God with loving confidence. I know I should still have this confidence even if my conscience were burdened with every possible crime. I should fling myself into the arms of my Saviour, heartbroken with sorrow. I know how He loved the prodigal son, I have heard His words to St. Mary Magdalene, to the woman taken in adultery, and to the woman of Samaria. No, no one could frighten me, for I know what to think about His love and His mercy. I know that a host of sins would vanish in the twinkling of an eye like a drop of water flung into a furnace.

For Therese mercy is love that suffers the misery of another so as to affirm their dignity. And penance is love that sees the suffering love of another on one's own behalf and desires to make a return. The love of Jesus isn't a mere nice feeling; it conforms us to him crucified. Jesus' mercy enables us to make such sacrifices. Jesus will transform you into himself if you let him, and your personality will actually become more full. This was echoed by Pope Benedict in the close of his homily at his inaugural Mass as Pope:
Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? And once again the Pope said: No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life. Amen.
Only in realizing how pathetic and weak you are, can you meet Jesus and can others meet him through you. People who don't know God haven't felt his yearning love for them; the only way for them to experience his love is through you. When someone comes to the Lord through you it isn't because of your intellect, but through your weakness and brokenness.

She is a very sweet saint, and was a good friend to seminarians and priests in her earthly life. It is good to develop a friendship with her. Ask her, "Teach me your little way. Be my friend." You have to do something concrete with your life to develop your friendship with the saints. For Therese, it is the little way. Seminarians, allow her to be your novice mistress.

John of the Cross' Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book Two

This book of St John's work Ascent of Mount Carmel is about the dark night of spirit, whereas the first book was about the dark night of the senses. It starts out as a commentary on the second stanza of the poem, but goes into great great detail about it.

In darkness and secure,
By the secret ladder disguised
- oh, happy chance! -
In darkness and in concealment,
My house being now at rest.

This is learning to live by faith alone. God is healing the roots of your soul. (In the dark night of the senses, he was healing involuntary movements that were controlling your life, which are the symptoms of the diseases being healed here.) This night is much more painful and filled with suffering than is the dark night of the senses.

But you gain a real knowledge of God: the knowledge of him that he has of himself; it is an interpersonal, relationship, friendship knowledge of God. He makes you to find your joy in him alone. These dark nights are essentially relational events, between you and God. Priests need to pursue this friendship with God in a particular way.

2010-08-18

John of the Cross' Dark Night of the Soul

The Dark Night of the Soul is a second commentary on the same poem from Ascent of Mount Carmel. Here is the translation we read. It is about the passive nights of the soul, whereas Ascent is about the active nights.

One dark night,
fired with love's urgent longing
--ah, the sheer grace!--
I went out unseen,
my house being now all stilled.

The dark night in the first stanza is "purgative contemplation", which passively causes the the soul to leave love of self and things for union with God.

John begins by describing the imperfections of beginners in the spiritual life, in the areas of pride, spiritual avarice, lust, spiritual anger, spiritual gluttony, spiritual envy and sloth.
Pride is seeking to be esteemed by others for your achievements; seeking gratification in how others think of you. Humility is the virtue that regulates self-esteem: regulate according to God's esteem for you. When we regulate self-esteem independently of this, we esteem ourselves wrongly. The way you see yourself sets up how you act: if you don't see yourself as a son of God, you'll act beneath your dignity. Try to laugh at your vanity: the Enemy hates humour, so laugh about it when you are humiliated. When someone purposefully, cruelly humiliates you, then you are especially Christlike. Pride can follow all of us into the confessional, where we might not clearly relate our sins. But it is so much more important to get your sin forgiven than what the old man thinks of you. St John describes some persons who are "anxious that God removes their faults and imperfections, but their motive is personal peace rather than God." We should desire peace, without being anxious. To counter what John describes, thank God for your faults, because they keep you humble. Do not be so foolish as to think that holiness is within your grasp; the only way to get it is to receive it from God. Another way to regulate pride is to learn to be in God's presence without consolation. Let God be the master of your prayer time. To heal your big fat ego, waste time with God. Keep going to daily holy hours even if they are un-consoling and boring. A big lesson in humility for seminarians is to lovingly and eagerly accept formation: "Yet these humble souls, far from desiring to be anyone's teacher, are ready to take a road different from the one they are following, if told to do so."
Spiritual avarice is when a person sees spirituality as the acquisition of teachings, religious articles, or a preoccupation with the externals of liturgy. This can cause the person to seek satisfaction in liturgy which appeals to his personal preferences, rather than in praising God. The antidote for this is spiritual poverty, produced by the Holy Spirit in contemplation.
Lust will get worse before it gets better. It can lead us to union with God, as can pride, if we have tears of compunction for our sinful instincts. When you have an instinct to lust, just pray "Lord, have mercy."
Anger is discussed as anger at yourself over not becoming holy quickly enough; St John says, "they do not have the patience to wait until God gives them what they need". The cure is spiritual meekness, learning to be patient with God.
Spiritual gluttony is a craving for consolation in prayer. St John says that when these persons receive Communion, they are more concerned with getting "feeling and satisfaction rather than humbly praising and reverencing God dwelling within them." Our first prayer after receiving Christ should always be praise and worship of the Trinity and particularly Christ.
Spiritual sloth is a reluctance or refusal to pray, when it is not consoling.
A good rule of thumb with regards to these imperfections: if there is a passage you can't relate to or identify with, it's a safe bet that that is such a huge problem for you that you don't even see it, it's so permeated into you.

St John says that God delivers beginners of these imperfections through the dark night, through "pure dryness and interior darkness".

The dryness of the dark night is given to the soul so that you will become free to rest in God alone; he won't let anything else console you while you're in the dark night. In the dark night God is not communicated by senses or thought, but by "simple contemplation", "in which there is not discursive succession of thought." The soul has to abandon itself to this process, accepting that it can't do anything, and in prayer just waste time with God.

Entering the dark night, the soul is "attracted by the love of God and enkindled in it". Pss 73 and 43 describe this longing.

In the dark night, prayer feels like a waste of time and scripture passages won't seem meaningful. At these times make an act of faith that God is present, and attend to God; stop distracting yourself with reading, emotions, or imagination.

St John of the Cross says that the benefits of the dark night are: self-knowledge, about our lowliness; knowledge of God, of his grandeur and majesty; humility; and love of neighbour.

John of the Cross' Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book One

The Ascent of Mount Carmel is a poem with a treatise explaining it. It describes how to reach divine union, described as Mount Carmel, through love.

This is the first stanza:

On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings
- oh, happy chance! -
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.


St John says that if we are attracted by earthly or heavenly goods, we won't get to Mt Carmel. But following John of the Cross doesn't mean forsaking all goods; just don't put them ahead of God. He wants us to take a path of nothingness to God alone. In the end, only the desire for God saves you. It is necessary to get rid of the things that dissipate or weaken your desire for God; you must be focused.

Having the virtue of chastity rooted deeply in the faith allows for you to develop deep, close, intimate friendships in your life.

St John teaches that dark nights are essential to the spiritual life, and that there are two forms of them: the dark night of the senses, which is the way to get from the purgative stage of the spiritual life to the illuminative; and the dark night of spirit, which takes you from the illuminative stage to the unitive. The dark night of the sense is both active and passive; there are things you can actively do, such as a media fast, to dispose yourself to it. The dark night of spirit, however, is passive. The dark nights are so called because in them we must live by faith; then we must persevere in trust of God. The dark nights are purifications of the soul.

The means of entering the night of sense, the things that dispose you to the night, are based on this principle: "have habitual desire to imitate Christ in all your deeds by bringing your life into conformity with his. You must then study his life..." Spend time with Jesus in the Gospels and by adoring him in the Eucharist. This principle is what keeps John from being like Buddhism, however similar as the rest of his 'nada nada' path to Carmel is to the natural religion.

Steps to carrying out this principle include: having a discipline of life ordered to the love of God, renouncing sensory satisfactions that are not purely for the glory of God. Be inclined not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the most distasteful; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something but to wanting nothing, etc. St John advises us to earnestly embrace these practices and try to overcome our will's repugnance toward them. You can train your senses to delight in difficult things for the Lord and his glory. These steps conquer your appetites; they change how you take in sensory stimulation.

Are your senses given to pursuit of self, or of God? When they are pursuing self, you are inconstant--you have moments of devotion to God, but then you fall back into sin.

What do I do in my free time? Fix this, and you'll have tranquility and more energy.

The reason so many of us, in particular Americans, are not able to love freely, is because we're addicted to comfort. Addiction to comfort retards our ability to love. Renounce comfort, the easy chair or the La-Z-Boy, to play basketball [or any other distasteful sport] with your brothers. That is how your heart will be able to love with freedom. To get rid of your addiction to comfort, incline yourself to the most difficult, as John said. This doesn't mean always do the most difficult; but free yourself so that you can choose the most difficult and aren't enslaved to comfort.

We need to choose, day by day, to be completely vulnerable to the Lord and to his will. Asceticism can't take away the deep-seated, involuntary contempt for my brother; the wounds, dark things in my heart; involuntary movements in the heart. Self-knowledge is the first step in opening yourself to what God wants to do for you. He wants to re-order your wounds so that instead of tearing you down they lead you to God. Surrender to God in prayer. Just sit there and be attentive to his love. Attend to him in darkness and silence.

Seminarians need to learn to be anonymous: the more anonymous you are, the more fruitful your ministry for God. This relates back to F.X.N. Van Thuan's idea of following God and not the works of God. We need to be the man that people want to follow to God.

2010-08-02

John of the Cross' Living Flame of Love

This poem and its commentary describe a "very intimate and elevated union and transformation of the soul in God". "The soul...is so inwardly transformed in the fire of love and elevated by it that it is not merely united to his fire but produces within it a living flame." The translation we used is actually available here.

This is the poem:

O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest center! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! if it be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!

O sweet cautery,
O delightful wound!
O gentle hand! O delicate touch
that tastes of eternal life
and pays every debt!
In killing you changed death to life.

O lamps of fire!
in whose splendors
the deep caverns of feeling,
once obscure and blind,
now give forth, so rarely, so exquisitely,
both warmth and light to their Beloved.

How gently and lovingly
you wake in my heart,
where in secret you dwell alone;
and in your sweet breathing,
filled with good and glory,
how tenderly you swell my heart with love.

Stanza one: The living flame is the Holy Spirit, to whom a soul at this stage is intimately united. The soul is wounded in fulfillment of the sense in which one is wounded by Cupid's arrow. The soul is dying of love, is changed forever, is living for God, and is driven by the love of God. This love transforms your very centre. The soul's deepest center is where the heart rests; and "my heart is restless until it rests in you, my God". So the more you embrace, hold on to your faith, the more yourself you become; the more your heart rests in God. In asking the living flame to consummate, the soul is asking the Spirit to let her experience the fulness of union with him, i.e. mystical contemplation.

Stanza three: St John of the Cross says the lamps of fire are God's attributes. This poem is his attempt to describe the soul's transformation in God, in which "the soul becomes God from God through participation in him and in his attributes".
In commenting on "the deep caverns of feeling",St John of the Cross says,
Likewise, when the soul has reached such purity in itself and its faculties that the will is very pure and purged of other alien satisfactions and appetites in the inferior and superior parts, and has rendered its "yes" to God concerning all of this, since now God's will and the soul's are one through their own free consent, then the soul has attained possession of God insofar as this is possible by way of the will and grace. And this means that in the "yes" of the soul, God has given the true and complete "yes" of his grace.
Reading this, I thought of it as an explanation for the Immaculate Conception. All the imagery of the soul saying "yes" to God puts in my mind Mary's fiat.
3.34 "Since God, then, as the giver communes with individuals through a simple, loving knowledge, they also, as the receivers, commune with God through a simple and loving knowledge or attention, so knowledge is thus joined with knowledge and love with love. The receiver should act according to the mode of what is received, and not otherwise, in order to receive and keep it in the way it is given." This spoke to me of docility, which was definitely a theme for me in the spirituality year.
The passivity of prayer is expressed when John of the Cross says that "contemplation lies in receiving". This most intimate form of prayer is a sort of shutting down of yourself, what you're doing, and receiving what God has to give you.

2010-08-01

St John of the Cross' Spiritual Canticle

Back to the series on the works we read in our spiritual classics class. We five weeks with St John of the Cross, (in this edition) and the Spiritual Canticle was the first work we read. We read the poem, plus the commentary on the first three stanzas, and the twelfth.

Dr Lilles recommended that we read St John's "Romances" to understand the Spiritual Canticle. They are very good in and of themselves, and I used them on the Spiritual Exercises to pray over the Incarnation and Nativity.

The Canticle is like the Song of Songs, and is a dialogue between bride (the soul) and bridegroom (Christ). In each of these stanzas, it is the bride speaking:

Where have You hidden Yourself,
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved?
You have fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after You, crying; but You were gone.

O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see Him
Whom I love the most,
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.

In search of my Love
I will go over mountains and strands;
I will gather no flowers,
I will fear no wild beasts;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.

O crystal well!
Oh that on Your silvered surface
You would mirror forth at once
Those eyes desired
Which are outlined in my heart!

First stanza: The soul is waking up and realizes this world is passing, and has a sense of indebtedness to God. Most parishioners haven't really experienced God, and don't have this sense of indebtedness to him. They are at the stage of loving themselves for their own sake. The preaching of the Gospel therefore needs to be aimed at waking them up. This waking up is a holy fear, realization that I've wasted my life, and wanting to pursue God. In the Canticle the soul is on a passionate pursuit to find Christ; he woke her up.
I need to ask God when I've made a cry to him like this poem. What characterized my experience? "God, help me understand my experience with you."
O Lord My spouse, show me where you are hidden.
St John says that Christ is hidden in the innermost being of the soul. We need to seek for him in ourself with all the strength of our being. The core of your being is a trysting place for the living God. Encountering God in your inmost being points to the primacy of prayer that needs be in our life. To find the hidden God, we must also hide. To hide is to live by faith: don't calculate, don't rely on your natural gifts, your intellect. Rely rather on your faith knowledge. If you life by your intellect, you won't find the hidden God. The only way to serve God is by faith. Trust him, let him carry you, no matter what you see, no matter the things wrong you see. Don't calculate, or be anxious; look to him alone. Be faithful to what the Lord has for you to do here and now, rather than being anxious for your future. This living by faith alone is essential to self-renewal, and to the renewal of the Church.
St John of the Cross recommends an "emptying" sort of prayer, experiencing God though a via negativa. "Individuals who want to find him should leave all things through affection and will, enter within themselves in deepest recollection, and let all things be as though not." This has garnered him comparison with Buddhist meditation, and they can be rather similar. One priest I greatly respect has said that Buddhism is the best natural religion; ie the best that men have come up with, without divine revelation. The difference between John of the Cross and the Buddha is that John instructs us to make the Lord the desire of your heart, to place him first, while the Buddha teaches one to desire nothing at all. There is a lot of emptying in John of the Cross, but the desire for God must remain.

Second stanza: The shepherds are the soul's desires and affections for God; they may also be angels.

Third stanza: "In search of my love" is the soul's leaving her own will and satisfaction, so she can seek Christ. The mountains are virtues and the contemplative life, and the strands are mortifications and the active life. The flowers not gathered are the temptations of the flesh. The mighty are demons. The Lord allows demons in our life to teach us to rely on him. None of us can beat demons on our own; we have to rely on Christ. A demon who leads you to a habitual sin is allowed so that you will go to confession and realize you have to rely on Jesus. The frontiers are the natural rebellions of the flesh against the spirit.

Twelfth stanza: Seeing Jesus' face reflected in the water is mystical prayer. In this you aren't initiating anything; it's all the prompting of the Holy Spirit. This contemplation, attentiveness to the Holy Spirit, is the only thing that will make a man a good priest. Without it, he is limited to himself.