The Lord's Prayer: Concerning ourselves With God's Life and Plans (Reprised)

Today's Gospel includes Matthew's version of the Lord's Prayer. As we continue to focus on the basic themes of Lent it is only appropriate that the Church looks at what prayer is and reminds us of Jesus' own instruction in it --- what was primary and what followed naturally. In Lent one of the things we attempt to do is die to self in ways which make us more open to God's presence, God's Word, God's own hallowing of his name within us and in our world. We fast in ways which help us set aside our more superficial needs; we open ourselves to the love of God which we allow ourselves to savor so that we might be profoundly nourished and God's own will be done, God's own life be fulfilled in and with us. Our Lenten journey reminds us that genuine spirituality is forgetful of self, that it "gets out of the way" and lays aside self-consciousness. In today's gospel, Jesus (via Matt) provides a model of prayer which assists in this. It is a model of prayer in which we concern ourselves first and last with God's own needs, and with being there FOR HIM! We know it as the Lord's Prayer

In the first three petitions (and the invocation too, though that is a topic for another time!) we concern ourselves with God's very self (holiness and name refer to God's own self, not to mere characteristics or tags); we ask that he might be powerfully present in our world (because both name and the hallowing he is refer to a powerful presence which creates and recreates whatever it is allowed to touch and make holy). With the second petition especially, we open ourselves to his sovereignty, that is, to his very selfhood and life as it is shared with his creation. God assumes a position of sovereignty over that creation when his life is truly shared and that creation achieves genuine freedom in the process, but the reign or kingdom of God refers to God's own life once again --- this time as a covenantal or mutual reality. And, with the third petition in particular, we open ourselves to the will of God --- to the future and shape of a reality which is ordered by his sovereignty and fulfilled by his presence.

Now, it is true that God possesses what is called aseity. That is, he is completely self-sufficient and in need of nothing and no one. But that is only one part of the paradox that stands at the heart of our faith. The other side of the paradox is that our God is One who has determined to need us; from the beginning, indeed, from all eternity, God has chosen not to remain alone. He creates all that is outside himself and he summons it (continuing the process of creation) to greater and greater levels of complexity until from within this creation comes One who will be his true counterpart and partner in creation. At bottom this is a call to share in God's very life. In fact, it is the ground of an existence which can only be fulfilled when it shares in the Divine life and God himself becomes all in all!

All of Scripture attests to this basic dynamic, whether cast in terms of creation or covenant. All of Scripture is about God's determination to share his very life with us, and his creation's capacity in the Spirit to issue forth in, or become his own unique counterpart in the fulfillment of this plan. When God's plan is fulfilled, when his very life is shared to the extent he wills, everything he creates reaches fulfillment as well, but it is the human vocation in particular to allow this to become real in space and time. And afterall, isn't this what prayer is truly all about: allowing God's plans to be realized in his creation; cooperating with his Spirit in ways which let his own life be made PERSONALLY real here and now so that EVERYTHING acquires fullness or completion (perfection) of life in God?

Unfortunately, one of the most pernicious problems I run into, whether in myself or in my work as a spiritual director is the occasional inability to "get out of the way" of the Spirit or to "forget self" in prayer. Prayer seems always to be about us, our problems, our sinfulness, our needs and concerns in ways which sometimes contribute to our own self-centeredness. While I am NOT suggesting we neglect this side of things in our prayer, I am suggesting that there are ways to pray these concerns which are NOT self-centered. (Note, the key here is in praying these concerns rather than merely praying about these concerns. Sometimes we have to silence conversation about concerns and simply live them in our prayer as we give our whole selves to God for his own sake.) I think this is part of what Jesus is getting at in today's gospel when he reminds us that God knows what we need before we ask him! It is certainly mirrored in the form of the Lord's prayer and the priority of the invocation and petitions. If we open ourselves humbly to God in prayer, the sinfulness, needs, concerns, etc will be part of that but the focus will not be on these.

Because of this, one of the most significant questions we can ask ourselves in checking in on our prayer occasionally is, "what kind of experience was this for God?" Ordinarily this puts a full stop to the sometimes problematical self-centered focus and chatter about ME in prayer which can occur, and puts the focus back where Jesus clearly lived it himself --- on God and the way in which God wills to be present to and for us. What today's Gospel gives us in this model of prayer is a sense that contrary to much popular thought and practice otherwise, prayer is really the way we give or set aside our lives for another, namely, for God and his own Selfhood and destiny. And while it is absolutely true that in the process of giving ourselves over to God's own purposes our own hearts will rightly be opened up, poured out, and our own needs met (as Isaiah reminds us in the first reading, God's Word will not return to him void!), prayer is first of all something we are empowered to do for God's own sake!

The Essence of Prayer : Living in the Name of the One we call Abba (Reprise of an Advent Post)

With Lent's focus on Prayer, today's Gospel asks us to look again at the model or paradigm of all Christian prayer, the Lord's Prayer. After all, it summarizes what Jesus' vocation was all about, how he prayed, how he lived, what had priority for him, and what, by extension, constitutes Christian existence. Learning to pray this prayer is not a one-time task, and recitation of it is not without risks and challenges. Instead, we are invited to learn to pray as Jesus did, to pour ourselves into its petitions, day by day and "layer" of self by layer of self. It calls us, and provides a concrete way, to allow our hearts and lives to be shaped as Jesus' was --- first by the Kingdom or sovereignty of God, and then (and only then) by our own. Yes, it teaches us to pray rightly, but more, it initiates us into a life of prayer; more correctly said perhaps, it molds and shapes us into the very prayers we are called to BE. (I am convinced that the admonition to "pray always" is a statement of the purpose of human life, and that prayer is not only an activity we are to undertake, but something we are to become. When we call Jesus "the Word made Flesh," we really are calling him an incarnate prayer, a Word event whose whole being glorifies (reveals and allows God to be) God in space and time.)

One of the things that comes up again and again is just how deceptively familiar the prayer is for us. We recite it daily, sometimes several times a day; and yet, almost every petition holds surprises for us. We simply don't know what the words mean or what they summon us to. The invocation is a particularly striking example. Luke's version of the prayer has simply, "Pater" (or "Abba"), while Matthew's has the more litugically suited and formed, "Our Father, who Art in Heaven!" Some people in parishes have problems calling God "Father," because they treat the word as a metaphor, and as an instance of human patriarchy or paternalism writ-very-large. Others love that God is called "abba, pater" because it apotheosizes or raises to divine level their own patriarchal pretensions. And yet, both groups have gotten something very basic wrong, namely, the invocation to the Lord's Prayer is not merely a metaphor describing divinity's "paternalness" --- one characteristic among others including maternalness. It is instead a NAME, and as a name it is symbol, not merely metaphor, and it FUNCTIONS as a name does. It symbolizes the whole reality of the person, not just those characteristics we know, but the profound mystery the person is. The Lord's Prayer begins with the revelation of and permission to invoke God BY NAME even if Matt's elaborate formulation obscures this for English readers. In Christ we are allowed, and in fact, empowered by the Holy Spirit, to call upon God as Abba, where Abba is a personal word of address which does far less to describe God than it does to give him a personal place to stand in our world and in our hearts.

We will miss this though, if we do not move beyond the prayer's familiarity and merely treat the invocation as a description of or metaphor for God. Remember, for instance, that the word "Abba" is in the vocative case, the case used for direct address. Remember that Jesus used the term "Abba" with a unique intimacy and familiarity, not as a description of God, but as direct address and name. Remember that his usage was unprecedented in Palestinian Judaism (Judiasm of the diaspora was somewhat different), not only because Jews tended to avoid referring to God as Abba (pagans did that all the time!), or because using Abba as a name and speaking it directly was too presumptuous (Divine names were not spoken or even written out), but also because the times they did refer to God as Father, it was in a collective sense and more metaphor or descriptor than name. Remember too that in Matt's day people LONGED to know both the REAL Name of God, and that their prayer was truly effective. So desperate were they for access to the real God that they stood on street corners reading from magic papyri which listed every known name of God. When Matthew warns us about using empty words in our prayers this is the practice he is referring to, a practice driven by the need to know and invoke God by name --- a need to pray with genuine authority and power, a need to allow and experience God's personal presence in all its ineffableness.

But, along comes Jesus with his unique relationship with this One he calls by name as Abba, thus addressing God with an unheard of familiarity and intimacy. He speaks, lives, and teaches with a new kind of authority. To put it plainly, Jesus is on a first name basis with God; he speaks in the NAME of God. Their relationship is unique and the exchanges between them equally so. When we attend to his prayer, we see that Jesus calls upon God BY NAME as "Abba, Father." He gives this One a personal place to stand in the world in the way only invocation can do, invocation in both narrower and broader senses: that is, addressing or calling upon another by name and living one's life in the name of that other implicating them in all one is and does. Jesus reveals (makes real in space and time) a new Name for God. God is no longer known simply the One who will be who he will be [ehyeh asher ehyeh, YHWH]; he is Abba, and the One whom he will be is revealed definitively in Christ in terms of unfathomable love and mercy. By extension, Christians are those marked by this name, who, through the adoption of baptism live within its power and presence, who "call upon" or invoke God in this way. It is the symbol or name marking our vocation in this world, just as it marked that of Jesus.

As I have written here before, the life of Christian prayer is a life of invocation. The task before us and which we reflect on anew each Lent is to learn and embrace what it means to live as those who call upon and live life in the Name of another --- and not just any other, but the One Jesus revealed as "Abba, Father." The Lord's Prayer initiates us into this life, and the first line, the only non-petition in the entire prayer, embodies or symbolizes the whole of this vocation. It is both invitation and challenge: not only to take this Name upon our lips, but to glorify the name of God with our lives, to become those who truly are adopted daughters and sons of the One we call Abba, Father.

Misunderstandings re Distinctions Between Religious Profession and Consecration of Virginity

[[Sister O'Neal, I have read most of what you have written about CV's and it really seems to me that you don't believe they are Brides of Christ or should be esteemed for that identity. I know this may be because you are a religious who doesn't esteem the idea of a spousal relationship with Christ and don't like being called a Bride of Christ yourself. It seems to me most religious today do not accept that designation. But just because you don't accept it why knock it down as something secular rather than something religious which makes it truly wonderful and worthy of recognition? One CV points out in her blog that Religious profession only makes one engaged to Christ, not an actual Bride like consecration makes CV's. She says that the meaning [of the terms betrothed and/or espoused] in the Rite of consecration is different than that in the Rite of Religious [Profession]. Why not give up the sour grapes attitude for not being called to actual marriage?]]

Thank you for writing. As I read what you have written, gratuitous assumptions, conclusions, and tone aside for the moment, it seems to boil down to several questions, including: 1) Are CV's Brides of Christ in a sense different from Religious women and should they be esteemed for that identity? (In your post I think this boils down to the elitist, "Shouldn't we esteem them because they have been chosen for such a special identity?") 2) Am I reacting negatively to CV's living in the world either because they are REALLY Brides and I am "only engaged" to Christ (assuming this is even the case), or because I don't care for the bridal or spousal imagery attached to both vocations? and, 3) have I actually somehow said that the vocation of the CV living in the world is not wonderful and worthy of recognition because I consider it a secular vocation? If I am correct in my reading of your questions and you would like me to answer these,  please get back to me and ask them again in a direct and civil way. In the meantime the following seems important to me as the basis for further conversation and you need to consider it.

The Language of Marriage in the Scriptures:  Espousal and Betrothal

First, a bit about language. In the Scriptures (and Jewish tradition) Jewish marriages take place or are "completed" in two steps, 1) espousal (or betrothal --- the terms are essentially synonymous) which is NOT the same as the contemporary notion of engagement and 2) home-taking and consummation. Despite these two steps, the espousal/betrothal is much more than an engagement and is formally ended by divorce. (The equivalent of shunning also happens but incurs serious censure and fines.) In espousal/betrothal an actual exchange of marital consent occurs and the two persons are thereafter called husband and wife. If one person transgresses the covenant agreement by becoming intimate with another, it is considered adultery and the penalty is stoning. It is thus possible to speak of a non-consummated marriage as an espousal or an espousal as an unconsummated marriage--- but one is speaking of a marriage nonetheless.

In light of this language and because both the Rite of Religious Profession and the Rite of Consecration of Virgins refer to both espousal and betrothal with regard to the persons making their commitments, it is not accurate to say that Religious women are "engaged" (or "only engaged") whereas Consecrated Virgins are actually married to Christ. The use of "engagement" in this analysis is wholly anachronistic and untrue, especially when used to contrast with another's life commitment which is supposedly a true marriage. One example of a CV speaking this way (perhaps this is the blog you saw) reads: [[Another Latin term in the code is mystice desponsantur which has been translated as mystical betrothal / espousal in various English versions. However the term desponsantur is best translated as espousal meaning that it speaks of a Marriage and not an Engagement like it is in the Rite of Profession of Religious women.]] (emphasis added.)

I have both heard and read CV's making this specious as well as liturgically and theologically meaningless distinction; I admit it underscores my impression that the only way these persons conceive of doing justice to their own vocation is by attempting to demean or diminish the vocation of another. That is especially true when coupled with a resistance to the vocation's eschatological secularity. In particular it sounds like these CV's are trying to convince themselves (rightly of course) that the vocation to consecrated virginity is not of secondary value to Religious vocations and so (wrongly), denigrate the Religious vocation in the process. It is a variation on the, "I am a Bride of Christ and you are not" assertion I have spoken of before, but in this case it is made explicit and buttressed with naive linguistic and historical arguments rooted in bad scholarship. One should not need to misrepresent another vocation in order to demonstrate esteem for one's own.

Other Misunderstandings: Religious Consecrate Themselves

A similar misunderstanding which gives a similar impression regarding some CV's need to denigrate Religious life in order to esteem their own vocations is the notion that Religious use vows to consecrate themselves during the Rite of  (Perpetual) Profession while CV's are consecrated by God. In fact, while ordinarily Religious USE vows as essential to structuring and framing their consecrated lives, and while it is the form of dedication used in the Rite of  perpetual Profession they too are consecrated by God. The general or basic structure of the two Rites is the same: 1) call, homily and examination, 2) Litany of Saints (prostration) and profession of perpetual/solemn vows (Religious) or propositum (CV's living in the world reaffirm their resolution to remain virgins at this point), 3) solemn prayer of consecration, 4) granting of insigniae.  As I have said many times here, despite commonly misused language only God consecrates; that is, only God who is holy and the source of holiness makes holy or sets a person apart as a "sacred person" --- though this certainly occurs through the mediation of the Church. Human beings DEDICATE themselves to God, whether this occurs through vows, other sacred bonds (allowed by c 603), propositum or (solemn) act of resolution (as in the case of CV's living in the world), etc. In any case, if CV's are consecrated by God through a prayer of solemn consecration and not through their propositum, then so are Religious consecrated by God through the prayer of solemn consecration and not through their perpetual vows. Of course BOTH vows (or other sacred bonds, or propositum) and prayer of consecration are required for entrance into the consecrated state. They are integral parts of a single call/response event mediated by the Church.

The Basis for Esteem of Various Vocations:

There is one thing you have gotten exactly right and which I can respond to right now. I do not believe CV's (or hermits, cenobites, priests or married persons, etc) should be esteemed simply because they are called to live out their vocations to authentic humanity in one path rather than another. As I think I was very clear about in my post about Matthew 22:14-17, "chosenness" is more about response than it is some higher call, etc. Every vocation has an immeasurable dignity because every vocation is the gift of the infinite God who esteems each of us infinitely. If you are suggesting that we should esteem persons for responding wholeheartedly to the vocation they are gifted with, then I agree --- whatever the vocation. If you are suggesting that one should be esteemed or regarded for the degree of generosity they demonstrate in living out a vocation or the degree of responsibility they assume in Baptism, profession, ordination, marriage or consecration, then I agree. If, however, you are saying that someone should be esteemed simply because they are called to be a "Bride of Christ" (or priest, etc) and have gone through the Rite of consecration (etc.) without reference to the lives they live, then I emphatically disagree.

I esteem a person not only because they have accepted the gift of a vocation initially but because they have responded in a way which allows that vocation to make them truly loving, truly human, truly of Christ. I rejoice WITH them that they have been called in a way which enriches them and the faith community of the Church, but my regard is a function of  someone's continued responsiveness to their vocation. It is dependent on their integrity and growth in generosity, faithfulness, and love. Because vocations are not given once, responded to initially, and then treated as though one has accomplished all one needs. I am one of those who, when confronted by the statement, "I am a Bride of Christ!" sometimes thinks, "So what?" or "What exactly does that mean and for whom?" It is not that I do not esteem the vocation; actually I think I have shown here in the past year and more that I esteem it quite highly. Instead it is the case that I recognize a label, title, or statement of status is NOT identical with one's vocation and certainly not necessarily with one which is well-lived. I need to hear what the actual call is, what value it is pastorally, who will benefit from the conferral of this designation or title, and so forth.

In the past decades we have all seen more than our share of betrayed vocations and the parable of the vacant house in Luke should come to mind here.  Baptism, profession, consecration, ordination. matrimony, etc all effect a change in the persons involved, much as cleansing a house of demons effects a change and makes the house capable of something much much more than it was heretofore. Still, unless one subsequently continues to respond to that call and continues to give one's heart more and more completely to Christ and those he loves, one betrays one's vocation and gives one heart to other things (for instance, to status) or persons. I esteem well-lived vocations and I regard those who work assiduously to do so. Unfortunately, the title "Bride of Christ" is easily misunderstood, and more easily distorted into merely a matter of a privileged identity rather than the CV's actual call, charism, and mission. Your own question to me seemed that it did that very thing by demanding I regard CV's because they have a specific identity, rather than because of the lives they live in the power of God's love.

I hope this has been helpful. Again, if you have questions you would like me to respond to, please feel free to email again but directly and without the passive aggression.

Driven into the Desert in the Spirit of Sonship (Reprised with tweaks)

I really love today's Gospel, especially at the beginning of Lent. The thing that strikes me most about it is that Jesus' 40 days in the desert are days spent coming to terms with and consolidating the identity which has just been announced and brought to be in him. (When God speaks, the things he says become events, things that really happen in space and time, and so too with the announcement that Jesus is his beloved Son in whom he is well-pleased.) Subsequently, Jesus is driven into the desert by the Spirit of love, the Spirit of Sonship, to explore that identity, to allow it to define him in space and time more and more exhaustively, to allow it to become the whole of who he is. One of the purposes of
Lent is to allow us to do the same.

A sister friend I go to coffee with on Sundays remarked on the way from Mass that she had had a conversation with her spiritual director this last week where he noted that perhaps Jesus' post-baptismal time in the desert was a time for him to savor the experience he had had at his baptism. It was a wonderful comment that took my own sense of this passage in a new and deeper direction. Because of the struggle involved in the passage I had never thought to use the word savor in the same context, but as my friend rightly pointed out, the two often go together in our spiritual lives. They certainly do so in hermitages! My own director had asked me to do something similar when we met this last week by suggesting I consider going back to all those pivotal moments of my life which have brought me to the silence of solitude as the vocation and gift of my life. Essentially she was asking me not only to consider these intellectually (though she was doing that too) but to savor them anew and in this savoring to come to an even greater consolidation of my identity in God and as diocesan hermit.

Hermitages are places which reprise the same experience of consolidation and integration of our identity in God. They are deserts in which we come not only to learn who we are in terms of God alone, but to allow that to define our entire existence really and concretely -- in what we value, how we behave, in the choices we make, and those with whom we identify, etc. In the "In Good Faith" podcast for A Nun's Life I did a couple of years ago now, I noted that for me the choice which is fundamental to all of Lent and all of the spiritual life, "Choose Life, not death" is the choice between accepting and living my life according to the way God defines me or according to the way the "world" defines me. It means that no matter how gifted in worldly terms, how privileged or competent, or, for that matter, how poor, inadequate, ill, and so forth I also am, I choose to make God's announcement that I am his beloved daughter in whom he is well-pleased the central truth of my life. I am called to make the fact that I am simply one in whom God truly delights -- no matter the gifts or deficiencies I also possess -- the single defining reality which shapes, colors, and grounds everything else. Learning to live from that definition (and so, from the one who announces it) is the task of the hermit; the hermitage is the place to which the Spirit of love and Sonship drive us so that we can savor the truth of this incomprehensible mystery even as we struggle to allow it to become the whole of who we are.

But hermitages are, of course, not the only places which reprise these dynamics. Each of us has been baptized, and in each of our baptisms what was announced to us was the fact that we were now God's adopted beloved Sons (in Christ this is not sexist but all-inclusive for in him we are neither male nor females, etc). Lent gives us the space and time where we can focus on the truth of this, claim that truth more whole-heartedly, and, as Thomas Merton once said, "get rid of any impersonation that has followed us" to the [desert]. We need to take time to identify and struggle with the falsenesses within us, but also to accept and appreciate the more profound truth of who we are and who we are called to become in savoring our experiences of God's love. As we fast in various ways, we must be sure to also taste and smell as completely as we can the nourishing Word of God's love for us. After all, the act of savoring is the truest counterpart of fasting for the Christian. The word we are called to savor is the word which defines us as valued and valuable in ways the world cannot imagine and nourishes us where the things of the world cannot. It is this Word we are called both to struggle with and to savor during these 40 days, just as Jesus himself did.

Thus, as I fast this Lent (in whatever ways that means), I am going to remember to allow myself not only to get in touch with my own deepest hungers and the hungers I share with all others (another very good reason to fast), but also to get in touch anew with the ways I have been fed and nourished throughout my life --- the experiences I need to savor as well. Perhaps then when Lent comes to an end I will be better able to claim and celebrate the one I am in God. My prayer is that each of us is able to do something similar with our own time in the desert.

Merton quotation taken from Contemplation in a World of Action, "Christian Solitude," p244.

"Choose Life, only that and always. . ." (Reprise)

When I was a very young sister, I pasted the following quotation into the front of my Bible. It was written by another sister, and has been an important point of reference for me since then:

Choose life, only that and always,
and at whatever risk. . .
to let life leak out, to let it wear away by the mere
passage of time,
to withhold giving it and spending it
is to choose
nothing. (Sister H Kelly)

The readings from the Thursday after Ash Wednesday both deal with this theme, and each reminds us in its own way just how serious human life is --- and how truly perilous!! Both of them present our situation as one of life and death choices. There is nothing in the middle, no golden mean of accomodation, no place of neutrality in which we might take refuge -- or from which we can watch dispassionately without committing ourselves, no room for mediocrity (a middle way!) of any kind. On one hand lies genuine "success", on the other true failure. Both readings ask us to commit our whole selves to God in complete dependence or die. Both are clear that it is our very Selves that are at risk at every moment, but certainly at the present moment. And especially, both of them are concerned with responsive commitment of heart, mind, and body --- the "hearkening" we are each called to, and which the Scriptures calls "obedience."

The language of the Deuteronomist's sermon (Deut 30:15-20) is dramatic and uncompromising: [[ This day I set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendents shall live,. . . for if you turn away your hearts and will not listen. . .you will surely perish. . .]] Luke (Lk 9:22-25) recounts Jesus' language as equally dramatic and uncompromising: [[If you would be my disciples, then take up your cross daily (that is, take up the task of creating yourselves in complete cooperation with and responsiveness to God at every moment). . .If you seek to preserve your life [that is, if you choose self-preservation, if you refuse to risk to listen or to choose an ongoing responsiveness] you will lose it, but if you lose your life for my sake, you will save it. For what does it profit a person to gain the whole world and then lose or forfeit the very self s/he was created to be?]]

I think these readings set out the clear agenda of Lent, but more than that they set before us the agenda of our entire lives. Our lives are both task and challenge. We do not come into this world fully formed or even fully human. The process of creating the self we are CALLED to be is what we are to be about, and it is a deadly serious business. What both readings try to convey, the OT with its emphasis on Law (God's Word) and keeping that Law, and the Gospel with its emphasis on following the obedient Christ by taking up our lives day by day in response to the will of God, is the fact that moment by moment our very selves are created ONLY in dialogue with God (and in him through others, etc). The Law of Moses is the outer symbol of the law written in our hearts, the dialogue and covenant with God that forms the very core of who we truly are as relational selves. The cross of Christ is the symbol of one who responded so exhaustively and definitively to the Word of God, that he can literally be said to have embodied or incarnated it in a unique way. It is this kind of incarnation or embodiment our very selves are meant to be. We accept this task, this challenge --- and this privilege, or we forfeit our very selves.

God is speaking us at every moment, if only we would chose to listen and accept this gift of self AS GIFT! At the same time, both readings know that the human person is what Thomas Keating calls, "A LISTENING". Our TOTAL BEING, he says, IS A LISTENING. (eyes, ears, mind, heart, and even body) Our entire self is meant to hear and respond to the Word of God as it comes to us through and in the whole of created reality. To the degree we fail in this, to the extent we avoid the choices of an attentive and committed life, an obedient life, we will fail to become the selves we are called to be.

The purpose of Lent and Lenten practices is to help us PARE DOWN all the extraneous noise that comes to us in so many ways, and become more sensitive and responsive to the Word of God spoken in our hearts, and mediated to us by the world around us through heart, mind, and body. We fast so that we might become aware of, and open to, what we truly hunger for --- and of course what genuinely nourishes us. We make prayers of lament and supplication not only so we can become aware of our own deepest pain and woundedness and the healing God's presence brings, but so we can become aware of the profound pain and woundedness of our world and those around us, and then reach out to help heal them. And we do penance so our hearts may be readied for prayer and made receptive to the selfhood God bestows there. In every case, Lenten practice is meant to help us listen carefully and deeply, to live deliberately and responsively, and to make conscious, compassionate choices for life.

It is clear that the Sister who wrote the quote I pasted into my Bible all those years ago had been meditating on today's readings (or at least the one from Deuteronomy)! I still resonate with that quote. It still belongs at the front of my Bible eventhough the ink has bled through the contact paper protecting it, and the letters are fuzzy with age. Still, in light of today's readings I would change it slightly: to let life leak out, to let it wear away by the mere passage of time, to refuse to receive it anew moment by moment as God's gift, to withhold giving it and spending it is to refuse authentic selfhood and to choose DEATH instead.

Let us pray then that we each might be motivated and empowered to chose life, always and everywhere --- and at whatever risk or cost. God offers this to us and to our world at every moment --- if only we will ready ourselves in him, listen, and respond as we are called to!

Tying up Loose Ends and Approaching Lent

The directions are appropriate!

Late last week in response to a question I posted on the meaning of Matthew 22:14: "All (composed of multitudes or the many) are called but few are chosen" within the context of the parable this saying concludes. In that post I also just added the translation Richard Rohr supplies in the book I began today: [[I am calling all of you, but so few allow yourselves to be chosen.]] The book is entitled, Immortal Diamond, The Search for our True Self, and I would recommend it for Lenten reading.

But as I read on from this first quotation, Rohr made an interesting assertion and observation which ties into the comments I made about chosenness and the call to see that everyone is chosen, everyone is special, everyone is called to a spousal relationship with God in Christ. Rohr is also very clear that elitism is contrary to true spirituality and the Christian Gospel. We are called on to believe a paradox; indeed we are ourselves a paradox, both completely unique and wholly the same as everyone else in terms of destiny and call. (Variations on this include the notions 1) that only some are called to exhaustive intimacy with God, and 2) that for this reason one can become truly holy only in a convent or monastery, but not in the secular world.) He writes: "Outer spiritual believing tends to say 'only here' or 'only there', while authentic inner knowing tends to say, 'Always and everywhere.' . . . Outer authority told us we were indeed special (that's the only way to get started), but maturing inner authority allows us to see everyone is special and unique, although it usually takes the maturity of the second half of life to see this. Young zealots still think it's all about them."

One Experience, Two Truths

In the prayer experience I described partially a couple of posts ago  (cf. Notes from Stillsong Hermitage: Once Again: On Infused Contemplation, Union With God, and Elitism) two impressions were especially unforgettable and seem to me today to be the bedrock of objective truth in my own life, and I suspect, the objective truth of the life of every human being.  In Rohr's work on the True Self, both of these elements figure largely in his analysis. The first truth turns on my sense that God was entirely delighted that I was "finally" there and that he had waited for SUCH a long time for this. Note well that I had not done anything much different than I always did in prayer;  there were no elaborate preparations and I certainly had not had to travel somewhere or do or learn something special to "get to" this place --- helpful as those things sometimes are. All of this happened as I sat quietly with my director, my hands resting in her own open hands, but in my own living room.

Similarly, I needed no post-grad courses in theology or special workshops in spirituality to teach me techniques to locate or travel to this place. The meeting with God was a matter of allowing myself to let go of fear and to move into my own heart; it was a matter of experiencing what was and is the essence of my True Self, namely, the profound communion with God I am most really and which I am called to let define everything I am and do. This communion occurring deep in my own heart helps make sense for me of an enigmatic story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers. You probably have heard it yourself. When one of the desert Fathers is asked what a disciple who is faithful to prayer and penance and the desert horarium needs still to do, he holds up his fingers, waves them back and forth, and says, "You can become all flame." We are not called merely to say prayers or to pray but to become prayer, to become all flame, to discover and become the communion with God we truly are.

Thus, I should also note that in this prayer experience I came home to myself, and I discovered that that was something I carried within myself all the time. This realization is part of the essence of Christian peace or Jewish shalom. It is what Jesus knew so well and what allowed him to live the poverty and marginality he did, to have no place to call his own, no place to lay his head and yet, be rich, centered, and completely at home wherever he went as well as compassionate and loving with whomever he dealt. Each of us is asked to recognize that "home" (what Rohr calls the true self) is a celebratory event within us where God and our selves cannot be teased apart; thus heaven exists proleptically within us in this way. Just as God is a trinitarian communion, so are we at our core a communion with God. This communion IS our true self and it is the essence of the human heart. If we are not feeling at home, if we are anxious and insecure, I think we must recognize that this ALWAYS happens to the extent we are separated from this core communion and live instead from our false selves. Quite often that means looking, often frantically and desperately for home apart from that core communion which constitutes us. The focus of Lent is on dealing with the separation from this communion that exists in our lives, but more about that later.

The second truth associated with the prayer experience I described, and part of the bedrock of personal truth I hold onto and try to live out more and more fully turns on my impression that while I had the WHOLE of God's attention, concern, love, etc, and while he was completely delighted in this communion we shared, every other person was loved as exhaustively, held God's attention in the same way, delighted God as completely and, in the core of their being WERE the very same all-consuming communion with God that I am in my deepest core. In my own life, especially in my youth, it was very easy to see myself as different from most others and, in fact, I was encouraged in that whether it was because of intelligence, academic achievement, an interest in classical music (not too common in my neck of the woods in kids my age!), musical talent, etc. Later other things supported and encouraged this way of seeing reality too: religious vocation and separation from that, chronic illness (and a unique or at least very rare form of that as well!),  an eremitical vocation, etc, etc. Our culture supports and nurtures this often merely-worldly way of seeing reality, this way of measuring and categorizing it which ignores the other side of the paradox. And in some ways, both legitimately and illegitimately, so do dimensions of our Church.

But prayer does not. God does not. A sound theology of the self does not. An inspired theology of vocation does not support or nurture this way of seeing reality or living our lives. Instead they call us to recognize our specialness while we recognize the same (and sameness!) in everyone else. More, they call us to recognize that God's love for us is what constitutes us as both special and the same as others. After all, God, as my prayer experience taught me, is great enough to hold these two parts of a profound paradox together without conflict. If that is so, then so must I and so must the Church, both as People of God, and the institution we identify with hierarchy --- or we cease to be true to ourselves and live from the false self rather than the true. Spirituality is about living and learning to live this foundational paradox.

The focus of Lent

The focus of Lent is therefore a perfect opportunity to take hold of this paradox. Penance, Prayer and almsgiving are all meant to allow us to embrace the deepest truth of ourselves and of others more fully. Penance demands we identify the areas of our lives which support the life of the false self. In terms of this post it is any discipline which helps us attend to what causes us to seek home (rest, peace, shalom, quies) apart from communion with God right where we are.  It is any discipline, or practice which helps strip away whatever prevents us from becoming all flame (true self, communion with God). It is any discipline or practice which assists us in overcoming the separation which exists between us and others because we cannot and will not see others as essentially the same as ourselves. It is any practice which helps us to pray our lives and become the living prayer God made us to be.

Prayer will both remind us of our separation from our true selves (the communion which exists at the heart of our being) and allow God to draw us more fully into that reality. It is the most fundamental way we become one with ourselves, with God, and with others. If it becomes a way of setting ourselves apart or distinguishing ourselves, then we have perverted it and should talk to someone who can assist us in this. Ideally, almsgiving is the opportunity to share our own specialness and gifts in a way which convinces others of their own specialness and gifts. We give not only because others have needs, but because we are convinced those others are every bit as special in this world, and certainly in God's Kingdom, as we are. It reminds us of our relation to others, and of the delight God experiences in loving them. If our almsgiving separates us from others, if it reinforces senses of our own superiority and  essential difference from others, then what was a near-occasion of grace has become instead at least a near-occasion of sin. (If we take on almsgiving to assert our difference and supposed superiority, it has crossed over into actual sin.)

The Call and Permission of Desert Spirituality

Like Jesus who was drawn into the desert by the Holy Spirit so that he could commune with God and consolidate his truest, deepest identity, Lent is given to us so we can, for just the space of 40 days, cut ourselves loose from the ways the world demands we see, establish, and identify ourselves and entertain a different truth, a more eternal identity, a more authentic self. The Church calls us to this, but more, her call gives us a freeing permission to do this while the world is clamoring that we embrace something else entirely. Lent is a chance for us to move from simply being called, remarkable as that is, to letting ourselves be God's chosen ones. It is an opportunity to make the paradox, "I am infinitely special and called to eternal communion with God; everyone is infinitely special and called to the same exhaustive and eternal communion with God" the bedrock upon which we live our lives. It is an opportunity to discover our truest at-homeness exists deep within us and is something we can live out even as we are profoundly marginalized in terms of the world. My prayer is we each find significant ways to let this Lenten opportunity grasp and transform us.

LCWR Responds to news of Benedict's Impending Resignation

[[The Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) thanks Pope Benedict XVI for his many years of tireless service to the Catholic Church and for the contributions he has made as a theologian, as the head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and as pope. We respect his integrity in making what must have been a difficult decision to resign and promise him our prayer as he prepares to leave the papacy. May he be richly blessed for his profound dedication to the service of the Gospel.]]

Pope Resigns Effective Feb 28th

Benedict leaves consistory after announcement

Pope Benedict XVI announced that he will resign on February 28th, only the fifth man to do so, the first for reasons of health, and the third for the welfare of the Church. I think this is a decision to be greatly respected; it is especially informed by the lingering and powerless end of John Paul II's pontificate when the Pope was truly unable to exercise his Office with vigor (and perhaps independence) of any sort. Benedict XVI is setting a precedent of conscience in the modern Church which, one hopes, future Popes (and their Curia!) will also honor in their own lives. Just as he did in explaining the place of conscience in elections, Benedict has shown that primacy of conscience, and the formation of an ability to discern and preference competing values and then to act on one's conscience judgment is demanded at every point in one's life as a Catholic --- no matter how significant one's role nor how ever unpopular or unusual this judgment may be. God's authentic Tradition is a living and vibrant one and this certainly includes the Petrine ministry.

Not all may see it this way of course, JP II's former personal secretary, Stanislaw Dzwisz, noted: [[“Pope John Paul II decided to stay on the papal throne until the end of his life because he felt that it is not right to come down from the cross." This may or may not have been a veiled criticism of Benedict, however (some commentators suggested it was); Dziwisz may have been defending the prudence and justice of JP II's decision in light of numerous comments of admiration and respect for Benedict's integrity and concern for the welfare of the Church in this matter. Whatever the truth of the matter in this regard, I think we have to understand that the papacy is a ministry in the Church and that, like all ministries, it requires those who can fulfill its requirements with their whole selves. The charism of infallibility alone does not assure that a Pope is adequate to fulfill this ministry well, especially in the face of age-related frailty and illness. Neither is this automatically a person's cross unto death or resignation would not even be a possibility, much less provided for canonically. Neither of these trumps what Benedict's decision says about the place of  primacy of conscience and prudential judgment in determining what one is called to do in order to act responsibly in this ministerial role.

Let us pray for Benedict XVI, in gratitude for his courage, theological and personal integrity, and his prudence in this matter; let us also pray for his continuing good health. His statement summarizing his decision follows:

"Dear Brothers,

I have convoked you to this Consistory, not only for the three canonizations, but also to communicate to you a decision of great importance for the life of the Church. After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God, I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age, are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry. I am well aware that this ministry, due to its essential spiritual nature, must be carried out not only with words and deeds, but no less with prayer and suffering. However, in today's world, subject to so many rapid changes and shaken by questions of deep relevance for the life of faith, in order to govern the bark of Saint Peter and proclaim the Gospel, both strength of mind and body are necessary, strength which in the last few months, has deteriorated in me to the extent that I have had to recognize my incapacity to adequately fulfill the ministry entrusted to me.

 For this reason, and well aware of the seriousness of this act, with full freedom I declare that I renounce the ministry of Bishop of Rome, Successor of Saint Peter, entrusted to me by the Cardinals on 19 April 2005, in such a way, that as from 28 February 2013, at 20:00 hours, the See of Rome, the See of Saint Peter, will be vacant and a Conclave to elect the new Supreme Pontiff will have to be convoked by those whose competence it is.

Dear Brothers, I thank you most sincerely for all the love and work with which you have supported me in my ministry and I ask pardon for all my defects. And now, let us entrust the Holy Church to the care of Our Supreme Pastor, Our Lord Jesus Christ, and implore his holy Mother Mary, so that she may assist the Cardinal Fathers with her maternal solicitude, in electing a new Supreme Pontiff. With regard to myself, I wish to also devotedly serve the Holy Church of God in the future through a life dedicated to prayer."

Posts on Vocations: Political Correctness or the Way of the Kingdom of God?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, what you write about [vocational] equality and so forth sounds very pleasing and politically correct, but it conflicts with what the Scriptures say. Matthew 22:14 says that many are called, but few are chosen. Many are called to lay life, but few are chosen to  be Brides of Christ.  Every Christian is called to Baptism but very few are chosen for religious life or the priesthood. I'm sorry but what you write says to me that maybe you don't even appreciate enough the gift of your own call to religious life. Plus you are a hermit! How rare is that??? God has chosen you to be his Bride. You are like the beloved disciple!! How often do you thank God for such a special vocation?]]

First, thanks for your comments. I suspect a number of people who read my recent posts may have felt the same way about them. We are truly "wedded" to the notion that God calls people and then, out of that number, chooses a few to be his elect --- as though the meanings of being called or elected means for God or for Christians (or for Matthew in the passage you cited) what it means in the world at large --- namely, that if I am chosen, then someone else must be left "unchosen", if I am special, then someone else must be ordinary, etc. Add to this the notion that too often the Church's theology has not done justice to ALL vocations while stressing the specialness of a few and it is no wonder we tend to be unable to see the specialness of one vocation without denigrating others. In other words we tend to see with the eyes, heart, and mind of the world rather than those of the Kingdom. In my recent posts I have tried to present a different way of seeing, a paradoxical, Kingdom way of seeing that does justice to the specialness of every vocation and affirms their common source, meaning, and goal.

One source of real difficulty is using sayings like the one you cited from Matthew out of their historical and cultural context as a bit of "bumper sticker theology" and thus accepting our ordinary world of competition, elitism, individualism, etc. as the normal context driving our interpretation. When we do this we read this line as though it says God calls everyone to ordinary life and then somehow, he sorts folks out and, based on some obscure calculus (better scores on some secret Sanctity Aptitude Test) and the notion that God loves them better because of this, decides that some are called to something "more", some to greater intimacy, some to more radical discipleship, etc. while the rest are simply consigned to second class vocations (and thus, one can only presume, the "cheap seats" in heaven)! But Matthew's use of being called and being among the chosen (the elect) in the parable of the wedding guest does NOT support such a view.

Remember the way the parable goes (Matthew 22:1-14): a king invites people to his Son's wedding banquet and all of those who are invited first have more important things to do. They decline the invitation and some of them actually seize and kill the slaves bearing the invitations. (In other words they are called but will not be among the elect or chosen because they refuse to be.) The King punishes the guilty and then sends his servants out to invite everyone they find to the wedding banquet. The wedding hall is thus filled with guests. In the third act of the parable though the King notices that a guest is present without a proper wedding robe and confronts him. The man is speechless (always a sign of disobedience, lack of faith, and ingratitude in the NT) and the King is upset.  He has the man thrown out into the "outer darkness" and concludes the story with the statement, "For many [meaning the all composed of multitudes] are called, but few are chosen."

For the purposes of this post we especially need to see clearly that the distinction between called and chosen is one of response. ALL are called, not all respond as is appropriate. Some put the wedding banquet lower on their list of priorities than it deserves. Some respond with violence and kill the messengers. Some receive the invitations, prepare themselves appropriately to honor and thank the King and his Son, and enter the banquet properly attired. And one guest receives the invitation but does not honor the occasion, the King, or his Son properly; he simply comes improperly attired, and ultimately he is thrown out into the outer darkness.

To be chosen in this parable is not about God calling some to a more radical discipleship than others; it is not about being called to a more intimate relationship with God; it is about accepting the invitation God has extended and thus living in a consistent, thoroughgoing way a life which IS an appropriate (i.e., a grateful) response to such a wonderful invitation. It is about living in a way which does not shame the King or his Son but instead delights them and becomes a source of real joy for them and inspiration for others. (Recall that Matthew was dealing with a community in which Christians had fallen away from their faith in the face of persecution, and yet had returned to the community and were very much like the guest without the proper attire. Their behavior was inappropriate and ungrateful; it dishonored the King and his Son, and the Church struggled with what to do with these Christians whose lives had been so disedifying.)  [Addendum  2/11/2013 :  Please note, I just read today that Richard Rohr in Immortal Diamond, The Search for our True Self offers the following translation of Matt 22:14, "I am calling all of you,  but very few of you allow yourselves to be chosen"!  I could not agree more with the sense it conveys so well!]

As I have said here many times, Vatican II asserted clearly that ALL are called to an exhaustive holiness, and all-consuming union with God. The chosen, the elect, are those who accept this call and live their entire lives as a wholehearted response to it. What is meant to be radical here (meaning at the root where radix equals root) is one's following of Christ WITHIN this specific vocation. With regard to the recent discussion on consecrated virginity of women living in the world this means not only living out one's consecration, but doing so in a secular life which wholly honors the Incarnation and the Sacramental character of all of creation. Turning a secular life into a Religious or quasi religious one could actually be ungrateful --- a way of refusing to live their discipleship radically or coming to the banquet clothed as truly honors the King and his Son.

Similarly, for a person called to marriage, embracing celibacy is not a more radical form of discipleship, but a less radical form. Instead they are called to live out the gift, challenge, and sacredness of sexual or married love in a way which images Christ's exhaustive love for each and all of us. For parents Religious poverty would not be a more radical form of discipleship, but a less radical one. Instead they are called to live the evangelical counsel of poverty in ways which allow them to raise children (a constantly sacrificial way of living), do business justly in the secular world (also sacrificial),  and contribute in a multitude of ways to a world where everyone has what they need and the Kingdom of God is made real. In these ways and others married persons live a radical discipleship.

When I consider the sacrifices married couples and parents make on a daily basis I am personally struck by just how radical a call to follow Christ this is. The degree of sacrifice seems to me to be much greater than anything Christ asks for from me. Each vocation has tremendous sacrifices and rewards of course; in each one to the degree we accept the invitation of intimacy with Christ we experience being truly chosen. Still, I honestly cannot say that the vows I have made call for a greater sacrifice, much less greater holiness than two people giving their lives for their families, children, and God. In fact, in many ways I think that God has asked me for far less --- though this too is a worldly way of thinking and I try to resist it. The truth is God asks for everything from us in WHATEVER vocation he calls us to. If what one lives is a less-than-radical discipleship it is because they refuse to live as God's chosen ones in whatever state of life they are called to.

Does this mean I don't esteem the vocation God has called me to? Just the opposite I think. I do not honor or delight God when I treat other vocations as less radical, less significant, a less exhaustive call to holiness or intimacy with God. How does it honor God to make him into a completely worldly character who parcels out his love, indeed, his very self, a little to this person, more to another, a lot to a third, etc? I don't believe it does. I believe it substitutes worldly values for those of God's Kingdom. The hierarchy in the Church is a hierarchy of service, not of value or the specialness of vocation. Beyond this, it is NOT the way the Kingdom will be structured; the Kingdom is anti-hierarchical and wholly egalitarian.

Yes, indeed I am "the" beloved disciple --- no less and no more than the person in the Gospel of John. At least I am called to live out and to live out of this truth; thus, if there is a difference between us it is in our responses to God's invitation. Notice in the Scriptures that this beloved disciple is never named; s/he is marked out by his/her faithfulness to Christ. This allows and even summons us to imagine ourselves in this position. Likewise we are called to see that this is equally true of the person sitting behind the "I need food" sign on the sidewalk outside the local grocery store or stumbling drunk in the alley behind it. After all this is God's truth!! The Scriptures invite us to this; to become the elect of God we "simply" have to accept the truth of it and live in light of that truth. I thank God almost every day for this special vocation, but I also thank God almost every day for the specialness of every other vocation --- just as I pray that we can each realize how truly special the call we have been given. (With regard to this last prayer I also pray that the Church will do a better job of portraying the amazing paradox involved: each vocation is unique and very special and each vocation in God's eyes is of the same value as every other.) I am convinced that what I have been writing here about vocations is not a matter of political correctness. No, quite the contrary; it is instead the way of the Kingdom of God and, for that reason, radically countercultural and prophetic.

Once Again: On Infused Contemplation, Union With God, and Elitism

[[Dear Sister, if God can gift any person with infused contem-plation despite the obstacles they present, then why doesn't he? Have you experienced the gift of infused contemplation? Isn't it a special gift and sign of God's love given to only a few?]]

The first question is unanswerable. I don't know why God does what God does, why sometimes a gift is obviously prudent or necessary and other times it is not. Presumably one is not always ready for love in such a form. Some theologians reject the notion of infused contemplation because it strikes them as interventionist or elitist. Rahner does this and suggests that these experiences affirm merely that some people are more able to cooperate with God, perhaps have become more skilled in this, etc. However, I disagree with Rahner in this because yes, I have experienced "infused contemplation" --- something that seemed like the flooding of my heart, mind, and soul from within with the presence of God. It was a gift which had nothing to do with my skill or supposed "advancement" at prayer or my spiritual readiness for this gift. In fact, I have always had the sense that God gifted me in this way as an amazing (and amazingly gentle yet powerful) "kick in the pants" precisely to signal what I was ultimately meant for and to remind me that prayer is ALWAYS what God does within us, not something we manage on our own.

My experience had several dimensions to it but it began with my inability to pray or to cease "trying too hard". To assist with this my director asked me to rest my hands in her outstretched hands and then to pray as I always did. I did this, took a couple of centering breaths and God did the rest! Prescinding from the imagery involved it centered on two insights or divine affirmations:  1) that God was absolutely delighted that I was "finally" here with him in this way and had "waited" for a very long time for this (and that this had nothing to do with my own age). I had the sense in all of this that I had God's ENTIRE attention and was completely sustained by him and this was exactly what I was called to. (This last part was literally true since during the prayer (a period of @ 45 minutes or so) I ceased breathing for some time, and others had to be sure I was okay while not interfering with the prayer itself. (My director eventually told me to breath at one point, and, with some initial difficulty, I did. Otherwise she and I simply trusted to God and let things happen as he willed.) 2) At the same time I had the sense that God loved and was caring for EVERY PERSON in exactly the same way. It was an amazing and paradoxical experience and neither element (the specialness nor the universality of God's love) was less important or true than the other.


In the 30 years since that experience I have had  others which were similar but also were far less dramatic. What I have learned is that union with God is not necessarily characterized by such experiences; in fact, such experiences are not strictly necessary any more than orgasmic experiences are strictly necessary to or characteristic of  married love generally. Granted, I apparently needed this particular experience at that point in my life to teach me a fundamental truth about God's love for me and for all others, as well as to remind me of the fact that prayer is NOT my doing. Even more, it taught me that prayer is meant for God's delight more than it is for my own. I needed these lessons on a level theological work itself doesn't usually allow, but I have not really needed others like it to experience communion with God or a felt sense of God's presence.  I also learned that such experiences need have nothing to do with being in some "advanced state" of prayer (though I do agree with Rahner that once we learn to open and entrust ourselves to God and do so regularly, it is easier for him to give himself to us in this way). Such experiences are indeed a gift, freely given by God because he loves us and desires we know that in ways which will sustain us and allow us to live authentically with a foundational security and hope which is edifying and even inspiring to others.

I learned at least one other lesson from this experience and my reflection on it which I will mention here (for indeed, I return to it fairly regularly to renew not only my gratitude to God for his gift of self to me, but to allow it to speak more fully to me). Namely, God dwells within us, actively calling, loving, sustaining and waiting for us to open our hearts to him. He is never absent and our smallest choice of life is a choice we make WITH and FOR him. Union with God is the very essence of humanity. We are not human alone. At the same time that union can be experienced in many different ways so it is important not to associate it necessarily with ecstasies, etc. Some of my most profound experiences of union with God have involved moments when a bit of theology becomes clear, a client achieves a significant step of growth, or I sit quietly with God and a cup of fragrant hot tea and am at peace and grateful for who and where I am. At those times and many others I have a renewed sense of God's delight and joy that we are FINALLY together in all of this, that he is mine and I am his.

I sincerely believe these significant experiences of union/communion are open to everyone on this side of the eschatological divide. But of course, those of us who have experienced them cannot teach that they are meant for an elite few if we really want that to be true. And here is where one other central lesson of my own life of prayer becomes critical: whose experience do we focus on in prayer? Is it our own or is it God's? Better said, perhaps, do we stop with our own delight, joy, peace, and draw theological conclusions from those, or do we open ourselves to and consider what our prayer means for God?

If we do the latter, then we will be very clear that he desires us to help open EVERY person to this kind of experience, and to do so now rather than waiting for the eschaton and/or the parousia. NO authentic experience of union/communion I have ever had supports elitism. None of them suggests such experiences are open to only a privileged few or are even necessarily a sign of "spiritual advancement" --- whatever that really means anyway. The experiences are ineffably special, no doubt about it, and they witness to how very special I am to God but none of them have excluded that second element I mentioned at the beginning of this post, namely, the sense that God loves and desires, in fact loves and yearns to love EVERY person just as exhaustively right here, right now. I have actually wondered if the presence of this second element is part of what validates the experience as authentic. In any case, I can only hope my life is an effective sign of this truth!! Otherwise, I will have failed in a significant way in the very special vocation to which I have been called.

Paintings from Brother Emmaus O'Herlihy, OSB: Camaldolese Hermit in Reclusion and St Romuald receiving the gift of tears  from the series "St Romuald and his Followers."

Called to a Union Most People only Realize in Heaven? Yes and No!

[[Dear Sister Laurel, In regard to your last blog post, I saw a video of a Nashville Dominican novice saying that, as a religious, she was called to a complete union with Christ that "most people only have in heaven." I'm not sure how that unpacks for her, but at best, I find it misleading. How does it comport with what you have been saying here?]]

Really great question and without clarifying some of what I have said already more carefully, this novice's comment might seem, at first glance at least, to agree with what I have written here recently. However, we are not in agreement; at least I don't think we are. As the CV whose emails I have shared some here wisely remarked, "An experience is not a vocation!" Conversely I think we have to say that a difference in vocation does not necessarily mean a difference in experience either. Let me say that if we are ALL called to union with God,  and every vocation is meant to witness to this eschatological destiny in some way, then this union CAN be experienced and I think we have to conclude that it is therefore MEANT to be experienced in every vocation in some substantive way. For ALL of us this union is experienced partially, fragmentarily, and with distortion here on this side of the eschatological divide**. But I honestly believe it is available to all of us nonetheless; if it is not, the universal call to holiness becomes absurd or relatively meaningless. At the same time, while experience and vocation are not identical, neither are they entirely separate from one another.

It is important that those called to Religious (or other forms of consecrated) life realize their actual experience of union in prayer may be no different from the Mother's in the line ahead of them at the grocery store --- or of the man bagging their groceries!! We simply cannot presume to know what kind of prayer lives or experiences of God these persons have, and we must not presume we are somehow "more advanced" or that we experience a kind of union they will never know this side of heaven. Further, to the extent these experiences of union DO differ, it may (as Rahner would agree) have more to do with our practice at the skills involved in cooperating with prayer (God's work within us) as well as with a kind of internal permission we are giving or withholding from ourselves than it does with the kind of prayer God gifts  (or desires to gift) us with!.

While it is true that God can gift any person with infused contemplation and break through the obstacles we present, that is a rare thing; more often what is true is that the obstacles we put up to various prayer experiences either by believing we are unworthy, by suggesting these belong "only to Religious", by believing prayer is only about saying prayers, by failing to commit to prayer as a regular, disciplined, and significant part of our lives, or by simply not even knowing or imagining such things as experiences of union with God are possible for us, --- all of these and more have a detrimental effect on our prayer's scope and depth. Given the commonness of these situations we can hardly conclude that anyone subject to such obstacles is not called by God to the same union with God here and now which a Religious man or woman is any more than we can say someone who is deprived of access to music lessons is not really called to know the ecstasy of music like someone with access is. It would be analogous to saying that because someone grows up with inadequate nutrition and health care, this translates into the conclusion that they are not called by God to know wellness and real vigor as is someone living a more privileged life here and now. Deprivation, for whatever reason or in whatever form it occurs, does not automatically translate into an objective lack of vocation.

If what this novice meant was that few people subjectively experience what she has experienced and will not do so until they exist in heaven, then her statement is a true one. If what she meant was that objectively God calls some few to experience union with him here and now (especially those who are called to be Religious), but not the majority of people, then I strongly disagree. Lives of prayer and service, lives of authentic love participate AND culminate in union with God. All the paths to this goal share intimately and integrally in the goal. One of the things we teach most poorly (if at all!) is prayer. One of the things we model least well is the universal call to prayer and holiness. Prayer is not merely for specialists, not for experts. Prayer is for human beings who realize they are called to union with God and that they are called to allow that to be as real as possible this side of heaven. On this Feast of the Presentation, a Feast which originally meant "encounter," that is surely something we should help every person in every vocational path to understand and embrace seriously.

Unfortunately, it is precisely in the area of prayer, precisely  in our approach to union with God, as well as in regard to the evangelical counsels that support prayer and to which all Christians are called that we have made things most elitist. The truth is that each of us are called on to serve our brothers and sisters as a paradigm or model of some dimension or expression of this union and of the place prayer serves in the life of the Church.  Married people witness to the incredible union of exclusive (but not exclusivistic) and fecund love in ways my own life can never do, for instance. Religious serve as paradigms of a more universally available love centered in and empowered by community and expressed in the relation between commitment, prayer, and service to the whole human family in ways a married couple may not be able to do. Hermits witness with their lives to the complete sufficiency of divine love alone, to the solitary nature of prayer, and to a quies or hesychasm the world cannot give; it is important to remember that solitude is a dialogical or communal reality however, and that this is a vocation of service lived for the salvation of others.

Priests witness especially profoundly to the Sacramental nature of our world, to the priority of the Word of God and the ministry of reconciliation the whole Christian People is entrusted with, as well as to the need for every Christian to serve their brothers and sisters in making all of these real in their own lives and in our Church and world. CV's living in the world witness to the reality of spousal union here and now and remind us each especially that heaven means the transfiguration of this world by the sovereign and spousal love of God. Those among the laity are called to witness to the profound presence of God in ordinary reality and model lives of faithfulness and prayer/union which transform their families, friendships, neighborhoods, businesses, etc. It is probably the most challenging and least commonly esteemed vocation I have mentioned thus far.

Meanwhile all of these vocations and others overlap and support one another in the gifts, graces, and challenges they bring to our church and world. None of them are exclusive to one vocation or another (with the exception of marriage and the sanctity of sexual love). At the heart of each is a call to union with God even when each serves as a paradigm of the different ways this can be reached and expressed for the good of others. I think we really have to embrace this notion of paradigmatic service wholeheartedly and reject the elitism which still so riddles some of our approaches to "states of perfection" and vocations to the consecrated state.

** eschatological divide, a phrase I like very much,  is a term I got from a friend and CV.

On Specific Vocations as paradigms of Universal Calls

In the past three weeks I have been mainly writing about the secular nature of the vocation of the consecrated virgin living in the world. In part that took place on Phatmass, but partly it has occurred here and via email with CV's and CV candidates I know. This post, and the one immediately prior were the result of a conversation shared by email. I am grateful to the CV who allowed me to post her own sharing on some of this --- especially the difficulty of honoring the specialness of one's vocation without denigrating the vocations to union with God ALL others are called to.

[[Dear Sister Laurel, Much as I regret that you've been sick all this time, I'm grateful that you were unable to respond publicly to my question before now. The delay gave me a chance to grow into a space where I could see what you were saying in the post that gave rise to my concern and accept your position that everyone is called to spousal love as being completely true. Today's post is a fine exposition of this truth which my own heart has been intuitively reaching towards in the last several days.

And yes, my question was largely rooted in the need to feel "special", to feel that I had been called to a deeper intimacy with God than others. Even as I was writing the original email, I was asking myself if this might be the case. At the risk of repeating something that I've written to you more than once already, it can be extremely difficult to distinguish between making a claim to a "higher" vocation and claiming a vocation that is distinctive from that of someone else. When I'm thinking rationally, I no longer believe there is any vocation that is higher than any other. When my emotions get in the mix, however, it can be a different story!]]

Many thanks for your emails! You know I enjoy your own insights on your vocation as well sharing how we each grow in our respective paths. Sometimes the struggles we deal with are identical and that is certainly true in this case. I am often struck by how frequently those of us with vocations to the consecrated state substitute elitism for paradigmatic service in our attempts to do justice to the specialness of our vocations. Thomas Aquinas wrote carefully to esteem religious and priestly vocations and to do justice to their specialness without denigrating others. While I think he was mainly successful in this, he was also constrained by a (Greek) way of thinking which did not easily allow for paradox, and so was not as successful as he might have been. Those who followed him, far less brilliant than Aquinas, were also far less successful and bought into distortions of his thought and notions of a hierarchy of vocations which were all too worldly and reminiscent of the disciples' disedifying clamoring to be the ones sitting at Jesus' right hand, etc! For too long the Church validated what was really our own capitulation to temptation, pride, and egoism in these matters.

I think though that we must say that the spousal aspect IS a (or even the) key distinguishing mark of the CV vocation. It is also  the essence of its eschatological witness. I don't think we are dealing with two different things here. If, however, you mean that the spousal bond does not distinguish the CV by indicating a relationship few are called to ultimately (because ultimately all are called to it), then I do agree. Still, the truth is that very few persons are graced in the way a publicly consecrated virgin is graced to witness to and help others imagine or embrace what is a universal destiny and so, part of their own calls as well. 

Perhaps this distinction between call and destiny is an important and clarifying one. We are all meant and destined for spousal union with God. Few are called to witness to this in the way a CV is called to do. Few are graced in the precise way the Holy Spirit graces her to do this effectively and prophetically. Another way to draw this distinction is by speaking of Vocation with a capital V and vocation (or vocational paths) with a small v. We all share a single Vocation, namely a call to authentic humanity which is marked by and achieved in our union with God; however, there are many many vocational paths to that ultimate goal and each pathway illuminates a different aspect of a mystery that is incomprehensible and ineffable. The eschatological Vocation to this bond is not unique, but the graces together with the secular context of CV's living in the world which constitute her vocational path certainly are.

When we speak of ourselves as members of the Body of Christ we underscore this truth. All members are essential and interrelated. All witness to both the humanity and the divinity (and the continuous dialogue between these) which constitutes the living whole. There are specialized functions, of course, but all are meant to work in harmony with and serve the whole or they become something ugly, dysfunctional, and even crippling.  As a musician in an orchestra I know how impossible it is to randomly privilege one instrument over others --- even though they all shine in their own ways and are allowed to do so by composers. (Getting players who are used to playing "solo" instruments like my own to play as an ensemble is one of the hardest tasks conductors and section leaders --- or their musicians, for that matter, deal with.) Still, even competent soloists play WITH the orchestra (and the orchestra with the soloists)  in a way which allows the music to be produced and heard most clearly and effectively. In a well-composed and well-performed piece, no musician feels their parts are relatively unimportant to the composition or the ensemble as a whole. There is an essential humility involved in music (and in vocations) which allow one to honor the specialness of their instrument precisely as one creates a truly orchestral sound in which ALL are valued equally.

I suppose in some of the discussions I have heard or participated in on the nature of your own vocation I have heard a number of CV's say things like "I am a bride of Christ" in ways which make me think the sentence is meant to be completed, "and you are not." In one sense that complete statement would be true just as it would be true if I said, "I am called to be a hermit and you are not." But if it means, "I am called to a spousal bond with Christ and you are not" or "I am called to spousal love of God and you are not" then we have real problems just as we would have if I said, "I am called to the silence of solitude (the shalom, quies, or hesychia of true communion with God) and you are not." Certainly the way I experience, fulfill, and image this eschatological call and destiny in and for the Church differs from the way most folks will do it in their own lives but it doesn't change the fact that we are all ultimately called to it.

Again, thanks for sharing and allowing me to share your journey in this very public way.