Death as the Last Enemy: On the Relationship of God to Death (Reprise)

[[Dear Sister, I read something you wrote about God not willing the torture and death of Jesus. (I'm sorry for being vague here; I can't cut and paste from your blog.) That was not what I was taught. In fact, I was told when at different times two of my children died of serious illness that God "had taken them" and also was reminded that I should not be angry with God because after all, "he had not spared his only begotten Son." Are you saying that God does not will our deaths either? That God did not take my daughters from me? And if God did not do this, then where are my children? What hope do any of us have??!!]]

First, I am terribly sorry for your loss!! Please know I will hold you in my own heart and prayer. Meanwhile, yes, I have written that Jesus' torture and death by crucifixion were not willed by God; these were inhuman acts dreamt up and made as sophisticated and ingenious a way of killing someone in horrendous torture --- i.e., in as unspeakable degradation, pain, and shame, as was (in)humanly possible. The first thing I think we must accept is that our God is a God of love and life and that, as Paul tells us, death is the last enemy to be brought under God's feet (1Cor 15:25-26). What God is is Love-in-Act and what God wills is life, abundant, integral life in dialogue and union with Himself. He does not will the death of anyone, including his only begotten Son. 

The second thing we must see and embrace then, is a somewhat different way of understanding Jesus' prayer and God's silence in the Garden of Gethsemane. Remember that there Jesus prays three times that his Abba allow this cup to pass him by. He does not pray that the cup not be given him by his Abba, but that God would remove it if possible. It is possible here to hear Jesus struggling in the presence of the One he loves and is loved by  best --- the One who always hears him --- to find another way forward, another way to live his life and vocation with integrity without running headfirst into the powers that will kill him --- and this includes not only the religious and political authorities, but the powers of sin and death as well. But God does not remove or take from Jesus the cup of integrity --- the cup of a life lived with integrity in dialogue with God for the sake of others and drunk to its very dregs. 

Does God will Jesus' horrendous and shameful death by torture and/or crucifixion? No. We can't accept he does nor does any text say this specifically is the will of God. To believe it is the will of God is to accept as well that those who betrayed, rejected, lied about, abandoned, spat upon, tortured, and executed Jesus were fully cooperating with the will of God. That is simply impossible, and if true, would give us a God few of us could believe in or trust. Where is the "good news" in that? To struggle in the way Jesus does in Gethsemane is to engage with God in order to come to terms with God's actual will; here Jesus struggles to come to clarity about and embrace fully what it means to live one's life and vocation with complete and exhaustive integrity --- especially when that life/vocation is defined in terms of dialogue with and complete dependence upon God. Jesus' life certainly is about this and our own lives are meant to be the same. It is not Jesus' torture and death that God wills but his absolute integrity and exhaustively authentic God-dependent humanity. This is the cup God cannot, and will not remove from him.

In Jesus' passion, we must learn to tease apart the things that are of man, and especially of man's inhumanity versus what is authentically human, and those which are truly of God or are the will of God. What I find of God in the crucifixion is the affirmation and reassurance that God, the One Jesus calls Abba, does not despise even the most godless of situations, places, persons, and events. Our God is the one is who absolutely determined to be found in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. Jesus, precisely as truly and authentically human, reveals this God to us and in the power of the Holy Spirit lives his life and speaks truth to power in a way which means that God does not despise the godless places in our lives; they are, in fact, the places God chooses to reveal his love and mercy most exhaustively.

Regarding the things of mankind, there are two aspects we must be able to see in Jesus' passion and death: first, there are the inhuman or less than truly human actions and attitudes of most of the actors in the narrative. These have to do with all the things I mentioned above in the second paragraph and several more besides -- the hunger for power and the correlative thirst for control at the expense of others, the fear associated with life in such a society for those who are diminished, oppressed, and exploited, the tendency to join in when a mob yells angry, bloodthirsty, and thoughtless slogans because otherwise we feel powerless, have no true sense of ourselves or of  genuinely belonging, and believe we can achieve these things by joining ourselves to such groups even when that leads us to harm others. All of these tend to dehumanize us. The instances of inhuman and dehumanizing behavior and attitudes in the passion narratives are legion. 

Secondly, there are examples of true or authentic humanity, human humility, integrity, faithfulness, generosity, and courage. Jesus is the primary exemplar here, but the beloved disciple, Jesus' Mother, and a few other women along with Joseph of Arimathea and the Centurion who proclaims Jesus the Christ/ Son of God are also participants modeling some of these virtues and dimensions of authentic humanity. What is especially true of authentic humanity is the way it is entirely transparent to God --- something I believe Catholic Christological dogma tried to express in the non-paradoxical language of hypostases, etc. So, the more truly human one is, the more transparent to God. And because this is so, when we see Jesus' helplessness, weakness, shame, brokenness, and so forth, we should also be able to see the paradoxical power of love that does not despise weakness, brokenness, or anything else that might once have been a sign of God's disfavor and absence. Instead, in the crucified Christ God makes these his own and there on the cross heaven and earth are drawn together in the very heart of Jesus precisely as crucified. (cf., 2 Cor 12:8-9 "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.")

The Good News of the Cross

For purposes of this essay, again, it is critically important to remember that death is not some sort of weapon God wields to punish, but again, is an event linked consequentially to estrangement and alienation from God, self, and others.  As noted above, it, along with Sin, is a power or principality which is a consequence of human sinfulness which Paul identifies as the last enemy to be put under the feet of God. It is imperative that we understand death, and especially what the NT calls "eternal death,"  "sinful death," or again, "godless death," as something linked to sinfulness with which God contends. God does this throughout the history of Israel's struggle against idolatry and he does it in Jesus' miracles, exorcisms, and in every other choice for life and love which Jesus makes on God's and others' behalf.  

What Paul also tells us is that the cross is precisely the place where God's ultimate victory over the powers of sin and death is won. It is the place where humans beings do their worst to an innocent other and it is a place where authentic humanity is made definitively real in space and time in Jesus in spite of the very worst human beings can do and experience. Finally, it is the place where God's love is revealed in its greatest depth and breadth; here we see God revealed definitively (i.e., made definitively real and known in space and time) as the One who will not allow sin  or death to have the final word or be the final scream or silence. Here on the cross Jesus remains obedient (that is, open and attentive) to the God who wills to be present to, with, and for us without condition or limit. In other words here on the cross heaven and earth come together as God has always willed. Paul says it this way: [[Very rarely will someone give his life for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God proves his love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us,]] and again, [[God was in Christ, drawing all [creation] to Himself,]] and too, [[Jesus, the Christ was obedient unto death, even (godless, sinful) death on a cross."]] In all of this God is at work bringing a new heaven and new earth into existence where God will be all in all. More, God does this for us so that, as my major theology professor used to put it, human beings might "live in joy and die in peace."

Your Questions:

So, with all of that as background, let me try to respond to your questions more directly.  Yes, in light of this theology of the cross I am saying that God does not will Jesus' death or the death of any other person. Our God, the God and Abba of Jesus wills life --- full and abundant life, not death. He wills that Jesus live his life with integrity and that he bring God's love to the whole sweep of human existence, every moment and mood of it. This is Jesus' vocation and the way he proclaims the coming of the Reign of God. He wills that Jesus oppose Sin -- that state of estrangement and alienation that occurs whenever human beings fall short of their truest humanity and choose idols instead of God. But death itself is not "of God" and godless, final, or eternal death, even less so. The truth is that while death invariably intervenes in and destroys life in a bewildering variety of ways, God in/through Christ and his cross intervenes in death and brings eternal life, meaning, and hope out of that. Tragically, Death did indeed take your daughters, but in Christ God has taken death into himself and transformed it entirely with his own presence, life, and love. In so doing he rescues your daughters from death and welcomes them into his own very life. The hope this makes possible extends to all of us in Christ.

Your children are well and entirely safe in God as well --- not because God took them from you, but because he rescued them from the "one" who did. That is the hope that we all share because while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us all. God in Christ loves us so exhaustively and effectively that he will allow nothing to stand in the way of this love, not sin or death, not anything created or supernatural. We are made for God and nothing at all can prevent us from reaching that goal. Again, to quote Paul, [[Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No. . .For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.]] (Romans 8: 35-39)

I sincerely hope this is helpful! It is meant not only for you but for any who have been taught some version of God using death as "punishment" or, when this doesn't fit the context, that he "calls us home" by causing our death. God calls us to himself, always and everywhere, including in our godlessness and relative inhumanity, but death is not his weapon or instrument in this; rather it is the enemy that he vanquishes in Jesus' own obedient (open to God) death.

Are Consecrated Virgins Alone Brides of Christ?

[[Sister Laurel, I saw a longish post from you on Facebook in which you claimed that religious are, properly speaking, Brides of Christ. You argued your position with Therese Ivers, a canonist and Consecrated Virgin whose position is that only Consecrated Virgins are Brides of Christ in a proper sense. Have you posted about this here? If not, I wondered if you would. Thank you!]]

Yes, I have definitely written about this in the past, but not for some time. I noted a post from Ms Ivers which came to my email from Facebook and decided this time to respond because of a specific line in Therese's post. She wrote: [[Religious, be proud of your identity. Sacred virgins, be proud of your identity. Those who belong to secular/religious institutes AND the Order of Virgins, be proud of your two vocations! But for goodness sake, learn to embrace your proper vocational identity, whatever it is, instead of identifying as something you are not (if that's what you are doing!).]] Therese is someone I consider a friend, and we are in agreement on many things; for instance, I generally agree with much of what she writes on eremitical life (and vice versa), but in this matter we disagree with one another. Here is the text of the post I put up this morning:

[[Therese, you well know that the Rite of religious Profession identifies the one making vows as spouse of Christ and Christ as Bridegroom (the rite uses this term at least four times) and again refers to the professed as "betrothed to the eternal King" and accompanies this with the prayer that they may come to the wedding feast of eternal joy. At the giving of the ring, [[ receive this ring for you are betrothed to the eternal King; keep faith with your bridegroom. . . I am betrothed to the Son of the Eternal Father. . .]] I see nowhere in any of this where the Church says, "but of course we don't really mean any of this except in an improper/non-proper or highly poetic/metaphorical sense." If we look at the readings the Church allows for religious profession, these numbers could be multiplied and would be underscored.

Meanwhile, during the prayer of solemn consecration the Church prays, [[may he make those bonds with which he has bound you to Christ on earth endure forever in heavenly love.]] Apparently, it is her intention that these bonds (real and proper bonds by the way) be eternal. I rejoice in my vocation, and it is to be a bride to my bridegroom. You have every right to rejoice in your own similar vocation, but to say religious have no right to consider themselves, properly speaking, to be brides of Christ, is a mistake. The church teaches as she prays so she believes (lex orandi, lex credendi), and in this matter, she prays, and so she believes religious women are brides of Christ.]]

In all of this a couple of things Therese Ivers argues (and we have discussed this either by phone or ZOOM or even in person) make no sense to me. The first seems to me to be a distinction without a difference, namely, the use of "in a proper sense" when that is contrasted with the quality of the consecration of Religious Women. I honestly cannot get either my head or my heart around what it means to say that she, as a CV, is a Bride in the proper sense, while I and other religious women perpetually professed according to the Rite of Profession of Religious Women (or rites that preceded this one), are not. More, I cannot read the Rite with its multiple references to espousal or betrothal (used in a Biblical sense to refer to actual marriage, not to something like "engagement" as some CV's -- not Therese Ivers, so far as I know --- have written in the past), to Christ as Bridegroom, or to the one making profession as spouse, and attribute some merely metaphorical meaning to it. 

Secondly, my understanding is that Therese Ivers speaks of the bonds associated with religious profession and consecration, and those associated with the consecration of the Consecrated Virgin as qualitatively different from one another with only the latter being a truly eternal or indissoluble bond. (Another way of saying this is to assert that the espousal of one Rite is qualitatively different from the espousal in the other Rite -- apparently a minority opinion of those revising these Rites.) But I can't read the text of Religious Profession with its prayer that this bond [[endure forever in eternal love]] as indicating the bond is not intended to be insoluble. Instead, I hear it as a prayer for the religious woman's faithfulness to this bond be maintained even beyond death. This is empowered by the love of God in Christ, of course, but it seems clear that the Church, through the grace of God, intends this be an everlasting bond. 

My essential argument in what I first wrote in response to Therese Ivers' post is that the law the Church has always taught is lex orandi (as we pray), lex credendi (so do we believe). The Rite of Religious Profession (revision of 1970) is normative in the Catholic Church for all Religious Professions including those made by hermits under c 603 who use this Rite. She prays this way, and so she permits (and, in fact, expects) us all to believe in this same way. Moreover, this Rite picks up what Religious have traditionally believed about their consecrations and espousal to Christ. Unless Therese Ivers is arguing the Rite of Profession misuses language and misleads the entire Church and especially those making Religious Professions, I can't see where her argument that, "religious aren't Brides of Christ in a proper sense" (again, what does that even mean?) holds together. More, I am beginning to believe it misses the point of this vocation and its emphasis on the proper nature of its betrothal entirely.

Circling Around Again to Find a Way Forward:

You see, as I try to move forward in the way I see the problem, it is not merely that I can't get my head or my heart around the notion that CV's are Brides of Christ in a proper sense, and Religious Women (or men!)** are not. I can't understand what is gained for the vocation of c 604 consecration by arguing this. More, is it really necessary to take something away from the nature of religious profession and consecration in order to do justice to the consecration of the CV? That seems to me to denigrate the very vocation folks arguing this way are attempting to praise. 

So, what does the vocation of CV gain by believing CV's are more properly "betrothed" than religious women are? Nothing that I can see. It seems a petty and divisive argument which fails to appreciate the rule lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi. After all, both Religious and CV's are consecrated (an eternal reality established by God even if one leaves one's vows), both  are professed (though one uses vows for this and the other does not). Both Rites of perpetual profession/consecration uses the same imagery of espousal, the same giving of rings, the same veiling, the same imaging of the Church as Bride of Christ. The major difference in all of this is that one calling is to a degree of separation from the world (or a qualification of these things via the evangelical Counsels) and the other is identified as a unique form of sacred or eschatological secularity. This is the pivotal point of distinction, I believe and the reason for the heightened emphasis on betrothal in the Rite of Consecration of Virgins for Women living in the world.

What I mean by this is that CV's are called to an eschatological or sacred secularity which can change (purify, sanctify) the way the entire Church sees and relates to the realm of the saeculum including every secular vocation. With religious women, CV's are Brides of Christ, but they need not embrace religious poverty, or religious obedience which qualifies religious women's relationship to the world around them in some significant ways in order to live this. Instead, they live it [[in the things of the Spirit and the things of this world]] reminding us all in a powerful way of the divinization of all things the Incarnation made real in the Christ Event. No longer need secular vocations be thought of as second (or third!) class. More, they cannot be thought of in this way. Instead they become paradigmatic of real and critical calls to holiness and union with Christ. The Kingdom of God/Heaven interpenetrates this world even now and CV's say (or are called to say) this in a unique way with their vocations. 

More and more I am beginning to believe the nuptial language of the Rite of Consecration of CV's living in the world, is meant to underscore not a distinction from religious consecration and its language of espousal per se, but rather the incredible nature of this vocation's secularity. No one, I don't think, would have renewed a long-lost vocation to women living in the world simply to contrast that vocation's consecration with that of religious (e.g., "By this rite we show what a true or proper espousal is as we show at the same time that religious' espousal is not a proper one!"). No vocation is essentially negative in its thrust nor established to denigrate another vocation. That is simply silly --- and in fact the majority members of the commissions that wrote both Rites refused to take out the language of espousal in the Rite of Profession of Religious Women. But what is not silly and what needs to be established strongly in light of a history of the Church denigrating the secular despite the witness of the Incarnation, is a vocation that shows the sacred nature of secular vocations and the way they truly image the Church as Bride of Christ --- just as really and powerfully as religious life and "leaving the world" does.

Generally speaking, the members of the Church were used to thinking of women Religious as Brides of Christ even if not all Religious women could personally relate to this language and imagery. What they were NOT used to at all, was the idea that a woman living in the world, a woman living a secular vocation, even a vocation which served the Church, could also truly be considered a Bride of Christ, nor that such a vocation could and should be esteemed as highly as the call to religious life. What do authors of a Rite of consecration do then to bring home the message that such women are called to an espousal every bit as real and significant as that of Religious Women? They make the Rite explicit in its emphasis on espousal, clear and unambiguous in its language of betrothal, and also, entirely clear on the fact that this creates a secular vocation no one in the contemporary Church expected to be possible. Now Bridal imagery is used to speak of a sacred or eschatological secularity which witnesses to the fact that the Kingdom of Heaven has interpenetrated our world in a new an awesome way.

There is no constructive need to emphasize betrothal or espousal and the Bidal imagery of this consecration unless one is doing so to change the way we see the Kingdom, the world around us we call secular, or the potential of secular vocations. Yes, the betrothal is real; the CV's espousal to Christ is every bit as true and significant as is the espousal of Religious in the Rite of Profession. But not more so. The language is weighty and there is emphasis on the proper and indissoluble nature of this espousal, as Therese Ivers rightly argues. But I would argue that it is done this way precisely because such language and imagery had seemed to be reserved for Religious Women and withdrawn (in the 12th Century) from women living secular vocations. The Kingdom of Heaven is present here and now in the religious and in the secular, the sacred and the profane. All is sacramentalized in the Incarnation, all of this world has become our God's proper medium of revelation. It seems to me this is the message underlying the spousal language of the Rite of Consecrated Virgins living in the World and the way we take it absolutely seriously.

I don't think this is new from what I have written in the past, though perhaps it more clearly links the explicit emphasis on Bridal imagery and identity with the secularity of the vocation. However, it is 9 years since I last posted on this issue, and I haven't re-read everything I wrote @2012-2013. For older writing on this topic, please see the label "eschatological secularity", and especially the following post from 2013: Consecrated Virgins vs Religious as Brides of Christ

** I focus on religious women in this piece because the Rite of Religious Profession of Women Religious seems so clear in this matter. The Rite of Religious Profession for Men is less clear in this, but I believe that Religious Men also are Espoused or Betrothed to Christ. After all, it is the Church which is properly the Bride of Christ. 

Melody for String Orchestra by Myroslav Skoryk (Ukrainian Composer)

With prayers for the People of Ukraine and thanks to Christine Brandes and the Oakland Civic Orchestra for this concert.

On Hermits, Mystics, and Misanthropes

[[ Hi Sister Laurel, I gathered from your recent posts that you believe a mystic is not some kind of weirdo or people-hater who can't get along with others. Because you seem to believe mystics are made by God's grace in a journey to wholeness (do you mean holiness here?) in union with God, is it your position that mystics relate better to others than most of us can or do? I was thinking that might be the case because they love others as God does and maybe also because they love themselves in the way God loves. I know you believe that all hermits are to be contemplatives and that some will become mystics so is it also true that if one is a called to be a mystic they are called to do that as a hermit? I mean are all mystics called to be hermits or if one experiences mystical prayer, then should they also think they are called to be a hermit??]]

Thanks for your questions. Let me start with the last one first. Because one is called to mystical prayer I do not believe they are necessarily called to be a hermit. Some may be called in this way to eremitical life, but ordinarily, persons discovering a vocation to both mystical prayer and eremitical life are already hermits; mystical prayer develops later in their lives as a part of the mature hermit life. Also, remember, all persons are called to union with God and that suggests that some people from every state of life will find they are called not only to contemplative prayer, but also the higher levels of contemplative prayer associated with the mystical path.

This leads me to your first question --- one you have already answered yourself very well. Yes, I believe that mystics (those called to mystical prayer) will tend to relate well to others because they do experience the love of God in the way they do in prayer. Such persons have been loved by God as all persons are loved by him, but they have experienced that love in ways most of us can hardly imagine! To be a mystic is to be someone focused on union with God in the "Beatific vision," but more, they are focused on it because they know it experientially and proleptically here in this life. They know their own unworthiness and the way God gives Godself to us in spite of that, just as they truly know their own preciousness and human dignity in light of God's own regard for them. Additionally then, such persons are enabled to see others in the way God sees and is delighted by them --- in spite of the ways all fall short of true humanity. Over time in prayer our hearts and minds are remade in the image of God in Christ. We relate to others and treat them (and ourselves!!) as God treats us. ("I, yet not I, but Christ in me.") How else could it be for someone with the gift of mystical prayer?

You are correct, I do not believe mystics are "weirdos" or misanthropes. More to the point, perhaps, I would say that if they are "weirdos"** and misanthropes they are unlikely to be true mystics. Mystics are lovers who have come to know in immediate experiences of God in prayer, how they and others are loved by God himself. And they are given to God and to others precisely as mystics because in this way God's love for others in Christ can then be made powerfully and effectively present in them. I would agree that mystics are rare and that too, they are not going to love doing many of the things folks commonly love doing in our world. But at the same time mystics are able to take delight in the smallest aspects of God's good creation; they are able to see God in these things and in those that image God more completely, and for this reason they will see things as precious and relate well to them as they are meant to be related to.

** Without a working definition, "weirdo" is likely not really helpful in this discussion. Let me just say that as I use the term it refers to someone who is not particularly down to earth, is unable to make others comfortable in their presence, and may be significantly self-centered in a way which prevents them from truly "being there" with and for others. As I understand the term it does not have to do simply with fitting in or failing to do so, but with refusing to truly belong to the same human community the rest of us belong to. 

One can have the most esoteric interests imaginable, the strangest preferences in clothes or food or friends, for instance, that are similarly imaginable and not be a weirdo. But, one can also have the most common preferences, likes, and dislikes possible and still be a "weirdo" if one believes they are somehow distinct from or fundamentally unlike the rest of the human race. One conviction I believe all genuine hermits and mystics have in common is the sense that foundationally we are the same as everyone else, unique gifts, talents, tastes, and lifestyles notwithstanding.

Some Points of Agreement and Disagreement with Maggie Ross

[[Hi Sister, I wondered if you were familiar with what Maggie Ross says about the Rules written for hermits and anchorites in the Middle Ages? She criticizes these as being so filled with devotionals that they allow little time for prayer. That sounds a lot like what you have said about the Rules beginners often write that are likewise filled with devotions. Are the two of you coming from the same place in this?]]

Hi and thanks for the question! Yes, I am somewhat familiar with what Sister Ross says about this. She has commented on this in her blog and I have read that --- though a long while ago. I think we are at least partly on the same page here. It seems to me that filling one's horarium with an unending series of devotionals is a superficial approach to prayer at best and may actually be a way of loading our day with distractions from the difficult and personally challenging realities of silence and solitude as well as of learning to pray contemplatively and the inner work associated with focused healing and growth. I believe Sister Ross probably has seen the same thing, and given her acute sensitivity to silence and what can and does happen to a person in silence, I have good reasons to believe we are agreed in this.

One of the ways new communities of hermits sometimes use devotionals, it seems to me, is to do something similar to loading a day with distractions as noted above, so there is simply no real room for time in quiet prayer with the Holy Spirit. Sometimes there is not even time for taking a walk and just quietly exulting in God's creation!! I have often been left with the impression that these new groups (and some older ones as well!) don't trust their members to learn to pray more deeply or even, perhaps, do something different from one another at any given time. Individuality, which is not the same as a rightly-to-be-rejected individualism, seems suspect and that seems to me to distrust the power and presence of the Holy Spirit. Uniformity is not the defining shape of the Spirit's own unity, I don't think. 

Meanwhile, saying prayers is important, of course, but it cannot substitute for allowing God to speak within us in the silences, or in the wounded and needy spaces of our hearts. We do not permit God to do that if we do not allow those spaces to live and breathe (and often cry out in anguish or yearning) without covering them or distracting ourselves from them with unceasing devotionals. While I also grant, of course that allowing those spaces that turn to deep prayer may be helped by rote prayers which reflect our deepest desires and needs, I am still certain that this will not happen unless one allows devotionals (among other things) to lead us into longer periods of silence when and where the Spirit wills which themselves bear fruit in what c 603 calls "the silence of solitude".

I think that Sister Ross and I are also in agreement that an eremitical Rule cannot be written for the solitary hermit by someone else, particularly if that author is not themselves a hermit. Again, this is about encouraging, trusting, and honoring the place of the Holy Spirit in the individual's life. Only the person can know how God calls them to pray and become God's own prayer in our world --- though of course this is one reason preparation for living the life of a hermit takes time and formation. Another person can certainly write guidelines for the beginner or introduce them to prayer forms, lectio, etc., but it needs the person themselves to finally shape the elements of their Rule in a way which is faithful to God's own working in their lives and within them. As I have said here a number of times, the writing of a personal Rule is one of the most formative experiences one can have on the way to profession as a c 603 hermit. It also serves as a means to educate the diocese discerning with the candidate on the nature of this vocation and the depths and sufficiency of c 603; a diocese that accompanies a hermit in all of the stages leading to her writing a liveable Rule will come to a greater appreciation of the canon and even more profound trust in the Holy Spirit and the solitary eremitical vocation s/he inspires in the Church.

There are several other points where I believe Sister Ross and I are in fundamental agreement -- the idea that solitude is the meeting place between human beings and God is one of these (I speak more strongly I think, in terms of solitude as a unique form of community), and also that we are all, existentially speaking, solitaries. I disagree with her, however, on the idea that we are all hermits. One may be a solitary without being a hermit, and in eliding the two terms in the way she does I believe she is making the mistake Episcopalians have made with their own canon 14. This canon allows for solitary religious, but does not encourage, much less require one be a hermit to be professed under it. Hermits are desert dwellers and embrace a desert spirituality with certain key elements (cf c 603 central elements). We may all be born and die as solitaries, and existentially speaking, remain solitaries throughout our lives, but as I understand and live this vocation, eremitical life is a different animal, one only some are called to and which requires a life of deliberate and specific responsiveness.

On Hermits, Packaged Coffee, and Hazmat Suits: a Bit of Vocabulary Building

This morning I got an email with a daily word. No, this is not a version of the day's Scripture readings -- though I also get those by email! Instead, it is a vocabulary builder which provides a kind of quiz format on words that some might not know. The word today was hermetic. I laughed out loud at their choice. You see, there was not the slightest chance that I would not know this word --- but I half expected to find a mistake here. Too often folks describe me or other hermits as [[living a hermetic vocation/life]]. This includes reporters and other writers. They mistakenly think hermetic is the adjectival form of the noun hermit. I am a hermit living an eremitical life. While there are some similarities, the differences are more significant, and the distinction is something I have written about here for the last almost 16 years!

So, I thought I might post a brief spelling or vocabulary lesson. Hermetic (please note the e) means to close tightly, to shut off or seal completely from outside influences. The bag of coffee I have in the pantry waiting to be opened is hermetically sealed. An astronaut who would die if exposed to open space wears a pressure suit that is hermetically sealed. Even someone in a hazmat suit with its own supply of filtered air or oxygen is hermetically protected. My hermitage and I, however, are not. Something that is eremitic (please note the i  and the lack of an initial h!) is about desert dwelling from the Greek word ερεμοσ (eremos) for desert or wilderness; it is about stricter separation from the world, and the silence of solitude, not about being insulated from all outside influences which would need to include air, light, love, and God (who does not merely dwell within us). 

In this last quality, however, we do come to the closest point of similarity between the two realities; both eremitical and hermetical are ways of dealing with outside influences; they both involve some degree of personal withdrawal or physical separation. Still, while the hermit is diligent about not being or becoming enmeshed in the values, perspectives, and attitudes she considers "worldly" or opposed to Christ (including those dimensions existing within Christ's Church that fit this bill), there are many points of contact between the hermit and the larger world which are embraced for the sake of God's Love and the mercy which frees everyone and everything from bondage to sin and its consequences. 

In other words, Roman Catholic eremitical life is about the unique form of community we know as solitude; it is not about isolation. (Even recluses live reclusion within a communal and ecclesial context for the sake of community in its many forms.) I am not completely insulated from the world around me; instead, I live the silence of solitude in order to be made more capable of engaging with or encountering the larger world as a citizen of God's Kingdom. Hermits don't live eremetical life (note the e that should be an i) or hermetical solitude, but eremitical life. (N.B., eremetical, as even my inadequate spellchecker reminds me, is not a real word by the way; it is not even an alternate spelling of the correct word!) So, to summarize, if you are speaking about coffee sealed in an airtight and waterproof foil pouch, the appropriate family of words is derived from hermetic. If you are speaking of a hermit who lives the silence of solitude (and so forth), the appropriate words are derived from eremos and include eremite, eremitic, and eremitical. And now I need a cup of coffee!!

Parable of the Merciful Father: The Choice for a Truly Human Form of Prodigality (reprised from March 2010)

 Commentators tend to name today's Gospel parable after the Merciful Father, because he is central to all the scenes (even when the younger Son is in a far-off place, the Father waits silently, implicitly, in the wings). We should notice it is his foolish generosity that predominates, so in this sense, he too is prodigal. Perhaps then we should call this the parable of the Prodigal Father. The younger son squanders his inheritance, but the Father is also (in common terms and in terms of Jewish Law) foolish in giving him the inheritance, the "substance" (literally, the ousias) of his own life and that of Israel. His younger Son treats him as dead (a sin against the Commandment to honor Father and Mother) and still this Father looks for every chance to receive him back.

When the younger son comes to his senses, rehearses his still seemingly-exorbitant terms for coming home ("I will confess and be received back not as a Son, but as a servant,"), his Father, watching for his return, eagerly runs to meet him in spite of the offense represented in such an act; he forestalls his confession, brings his Son into the center of the village thus rendering everything unclean according to the law, clothes him in the garb of Sonship and authority, kills the fatted calf and throws a welcome home party --- all heedless of the requirements of the law, matters of ritual impurity or repentance, etc. Now we truly begin to see a new and unimagined prodigality which outstrips the younger son's imagined responses in every way! Meanwhile, the dutiful older son keeps the letter of the law of sonship but transgresses its essence and also treats his Father with dishonor. He is grudging, resentful, angry, blind, and petty in failing to recognize what is right before him all the time. He too is prodigal, allowing his authentic Sonship to die day by day as he assumes a more superficial role instead. 

And yet, the Father reassures him that what is the Father's is the Son's and what is the Son's is the Father's (which makes the Father literally an "ignorant man" in terms of the Law, an "am-haretz"). Contrary to the wisdom of the law, he continues to invite him into the celebration, a celebration of new life and meaning. He continues to treat him as a Son. The theme of Law versus Gospel comes up strongly, though merely implicitly, in this and other readings this week, though at first we may fail to recognize this. Paul recognizes the Law is a gift of God but without the power to move us to act as Sons and Daughters of God in the way Gospel does. When coupled with human sinfulness it can --- whether blatantly or insidiously --- be terribly destructive. 

How often as Christians do we act in ways which are allowed (or apparently commanded) by law but which are not really appropriate to Daughters and Sons of an infinitely  and prodigally merciful Father who is always waiting for our return, always looking for us to make the slightest responsive gesture in recognition of his presence, to "come to our senses," in order that he can run to us and enfold us in the sumptuous garb of Daughterhood or Sonship? How often is our daily practice of our faith dutiful, and grudging but little more? How often do we act competitively or in resentment over others whose vocation is different than our own, whose place in the church (or the world of business, commerce, and society, for that matter) seems to witness to greater love from God? How often do we quietly despair over the seeming lack of worth of our lives in comparison to that of others? Whether we recognize it or not these attitudes are those of people motivated by law, not gospel. They are the attitudes of measurement and judgment, not of incommensurate love and generosity. 

At the beginning of Lent we heard the fundamental choice of this season and the heart of all choices put before us in any season, "Choose life not death." Today that choice is sharpened and the subtle forms of death we often choose are set in relief: will we be Daughters and Sons of an infinitely and, in this world's terms. a foolishly Merciful Father --- those who truly see and accept a love that is beyond our wildest imaginings and love others similarly, or, will we be prodigals in the pejorative sense, servants of duty, those who only accept the limited love we believe we have coming to us and who approach others competitively, suspiciously and without generosity? Will we be those whose notions of justice constrain God and our ability to choose the life he sets before us, or will we be those who are forgiven to the awesome degree and extent God is willing and capable of forgiving? Will we allow ourselves to be welcomed into a new life --- a life of celebration and joy, but also a life of greater generosity, responsibility, and God-given identity, or will we simply make do with the original prodigality of either the life of the younger or elder son? 

After all, both live dissipated lives in this parable: one flagrantly so, and one in quiet resentment, slavish dutifulness, and unfulfillment. The choice before those living the latter kind of Christian life is no less significant, no less one of conversion than the choice set before the younger son. His return may be more dramatic, but that of the elder son demands as great a conversion. He must move from a quiet exile where he bitterly identifies himself as a slave rather than a free man or (even less) a Son. His own vision of his life and worth, his true identity, are little different than those of the younger son who returns home rehearsing terms of servility rather than sonship. 

The parable of the merciful Father puts before us two visions of life, and two main versions of prodigality; it thus captures the two basic and, in some ways, antithetical meanings of prodigal: wasteful and lavish. There is the prodigality of the sons who allow the substance of their lives and identities to either be cast carelessly or slip silently away, the prodigality of those who lose their truest selves even as they grasp at wealth, adventure, duty, role, or other forms of security and "fulfillment". And there is the prodigality of the Father who loves and spends himself generously without limit or condition. In other words, there is death and there is life, law and gospel. Both stand before us ready to be embraced. Which form of prodigality will we choose? For indeed, the banquet hall is ready for us and the Father stands waiting at this very moment, ring, robe, and sandals in hand.

On the Consecration of Ukraine and Russia and the Importance of Contemplative and Mystical Prayer

Friday on the Feast of the Anunciation, Pope Francis had asked every Catholic in every home,  parish, or diocese in the entire Church to join him in consecrating Ukraine and Russia to God in the Immaculate Heart of Mary. I was doing a Communion service for my small daily Mass community and so, I spent some time working out how to give the consecration a significant place while maintaining the importance of the liturgies of the Word and Table/Altar. I chose to follow the homily with the consecration and developed my comments on the readings to specifically allow for this. For the consecration portion of things we began, therefore, with the kiss of peace (we ordinarily do it before coming around the altar so this was not a very major change); here we focused on the prayer we would be doing together in just a few minutes at Pope Francis' request. Reconciliation and peace were needed for this ecclesial work. Many small yes's can have great consequences.

Then we sat for a relatively brief period of silence and quiet prayer. I asked everyone to imagine all the larger and smaller yes's they had said to God throughout their lives, as well as all the yes's the world still needed us to make for the sake of peace and the well-being of our world. Imagine, I suggested, the entire communion of Saints joining us in this quiet prayer. Imagine all the pictures broadcast of the war in the Ukraine or anywhere else. Folks entered into this period deeply and supported one another in this silence as we all readied and allowed God to ready our own hearts for the consecration. And then we prayed a portion of the long prayer Pope Francis had supplied. It began with the sentence, [[At this hour, a weary and distraught humanity stands with you beneath the cross, needing to entrust itself to you, and through you, to consecrate itself to Christ. The people of Ukraine and Russia, who venerate you with a great love.]]

The decision to precede the actual prayer of consecration first with the kiss of peace with its implicit and explicit focus on reconciliation and peace, and then with a period of quiet and/or contemplative prayer was rooted in my sense that all real peace requires that we each be a contemplative presence to one another and to the world as a whole. This sense is something women religious the world over, whether from ministerial or contemplative institutes foster in their own religious families, ministries, meetings, and encounters of all sorts. And, of course, it is symbolic of the way hermit life itself is disposed and empowered to encounter the larger world. The stricter separation we embrace is done so that we can be made entirely whole in union with God and moreover, that we do this on behalf of the world around us which we encounter and to whom we witness for its own salvation.

As Thomas Merton affirms in "The Contemplative Life in the Modern World," [[Contemplative wisdom is then not simply an aesthetic extrapolation of certain intellectual or dogmatic principles, but a living contact with the infinite Source of all being, a contact not only of minds and hearts, not only of I and Thou, but a transcendent union on consciousness in which man and God become, according to the expression of St Paul, 'one spirit.'"  and as he also says, [[What needs to be made clear. . .is that contemplation is not a deepening of experience only, but a radical change in one's way of being and living, and the essence of that change is precisely a liberation from dependence on external means to external ends.]] And this change is not for ourselves only. We are freed by God from this world and enabled to live in it, not as ourselves alone, but as beings in union with God, beings able to love as God loves. Mystical experiences, wonderful as they may be, are never the measure of the mystic. Instead, that call to be  made complete in God and to love our world into wholeness is precisely the reason for contemplative prayer including even the highest reaches of mystical prayer.

Merton writes: [[The mission of the contemplative in this world of massive conflict and collective unreason, is to seek the true way of unity and peace, without succumbing to the illusion of withdrawal into a realm of abstraction from which unpleasant realities are simply excluded by force of will. In facing the world with a totally different viewpoint, he maintains alive in the world the presence of a spiritual and intelligent consciousness which is the root of true peace and true unity among men.

And so, we began our approach to the consecration Friday with the Word of God, a kiss of peace for one another, and a period of quiet/contemplative prayer where the reality of a weary and distraught humanity were brought right into our small chapel in the silence of solitary hearts we allowed to be opened wider (remade) together for the purpose. I wrote in the last post that [[it is absolutely fascinating to me how it is a mystic's infused contemplation takes them out of this world and out of any dependence on self to dependence on God alone precisely so they can live in this world, as a source of peace. The very thing that seems to make mystics/contemplatives stand apart and marks their experiences in prayer as incommunicable and uncommon, recreates and sends them back to "the world" as those who can encounter it as prophetic missionaries of God's (own) peace and wholeness.]]

I think the idea of the mystical way and mystical prayer, and especially mystical experiences always takes one through lesser forms of community with all of their differences, variations, and disparities to a place of really radical difference. But it is done so that we may return to others with the hearts of mystics, those who love as God loves and are therefore capable of bringing even implacable enemies together in peace. In my homily Friday I noted that in Bible study we had been talking about faith as a form of courage and commitment that is capable of overcoming doubt, not by destroying it, but by taking it inside itself and moving forward in spite of doubt. What is true of a Faith that is capable of taking doubt and fear up within itself is that it is infinitely stronger and more resilient than an absolute certainty with no room for these things; after all, at the least instance of doubt, this kind of (absolute) certainty will shatter. Mary's own journey was a journey of faith. It was about faith which grew by taking her very real doubts and fears inside itself and, in God's love, courageously, trustingly, moving forward into a world she would help change forever. 

Mary's smaller and larger yes's  (and Jesus', of course) would transform her world with God's own presence!! Her Fiat and all the smaller and larger yes's that both preceded and would follow it, her experiences of communion and union with God made her life fruitful beyond all imagining. More, it set her apart, transformed, freed, and established her in both her difference and sameness as made for the sake of a new encounter between God and the whole of his creation. As I also noted in the previous post, it is the same dynamic which stands at the heart of all infused contemplation as well as eremitical life's "stricter separation from the world." As I mentioned earlier, when we spoke about eremitical life, contemplation, Elizabeth of the Trinity, and the coming consecration, a friend -- another diocesan hermit -- joyfully affirmed, [[It is all about encounter!!]]. Contemplation, mystical prayer, even the hermit's stricter separation from the world, are about encounter for the sake of God and all God holds as precious!! And so, our service Friday ended with the commissioning prayer: [[Let us go forth to love our world into wholeness!]] It is the prayer of sending I usually use, but on this Friday it seemed especially appropriate.

Finding a Constructive Way Forward: An Invitation to Clarify Disputed Points --- with Addendum

  [[I do not make statements for the heck of it or without sound reason and facts, in addition to on-point metaphors. The one/s who try to negate or weigh in on what I share, with their gotcha-intentions, do a disservice to whomever reads their misinformation on this topic in particular. They lead people potentially to think of themselves in deceived ways, which may at some point embarrass themselves to others and blind them and keep themselves from seeking deeper forms of prayer; and thus, hinder themselves from becoming great contemplatives, their minds, hearts, and souls closer to His Real Presence, which is something we all should desire and of which I myself desire very much.]] Excerpt from Blog post  23 March.2022, (Catholic Christian Mystic Hermit blog)

Dear MC [name removed after receipt of email was acknowledged], I think then we are both trying to make well-grounded arguments or well-justified positions (rather than aggressive assertions) without [documented] reasons that can be evaluated by readers. Keeping that in mind I sincerely hope you will supply citations from David Knowles' book (What is Mysticism?) as well as something by Bernard McGinn, perhaps, and other experts to support your positions, especially regarding the following points where we seem to disagree so completely. (cf numbered items below.)  I am asking, in particular, that you provide an actual citation (at least the page numbers and chapter) from Knowles' work where he explains that mystics are born, not made (by God), and, if possible, that you define the term "mystic" as cogently as you can. That would also be genuinely helpful moving forward. 

Also, let me say directly that I think you profoundly misunderstand my positions and my posts on this subject if you believe I have suggested that mystical prayer itself is not a deeper form of contemplative prayer (specifically, mystical prayer = forms of infused contemplation), or that union with God, which is the very heart of mystical prayer, is not something every person is created for and called to even as it is a profound and immediate gift of God's very Self.  Please note that "immediate gift of God's very self" precludes one from believing one can achieve this on their own so I am certainly not misleading people into thinking they can become mystics on their own. 

If you believe that I am saying God can make people into mystics (ordinarily in conjunction with their long dedication to and practice of prayer) then you are correct. I am saying that God can do that, that he wills to do that, and that he does do it today as in other centuries. I sincerely ask that you review all that I have written and see what I have actually said. Especially, you should be aware that I teach that every person is called or invited to the heights/depths of contemplative prayer including even the prayer of union, and I always encourage folks to open themselves to experiencing the heights and depths of prayer they never imagined were open to them. I certainly have no intention of hindering  anyone from becoming great contemplatives and mystics.

The major points on which we apparently disagree are: 

1.  that mystics are born, and perhaps on what a mystic is then. 
2. that mysticism is an affliction (which is not precisely the same as saying it is a great grace that can involve intense suffering) and that it should not be celebrated much less desired, and, 
3. that the term mystical prayer is nonsensical rather than a richly meaningful term, as you asserted in your post of 23. March (cf provided link). 

For my part I have affirmed that:

1. mystics are not born, though every person is created for and called to some significant degree of union with God here in this life as well as after death. The notion that there is some sort of dialogue between God and a pre-existent soul where he asks them if they will be a mystic seems to me to be very bad theology and Christian anthropology both. Fortunately, Emmerich's ideas on this are not part of the Church's own teaching and we are not obliged to affirm them. 
2.  that mysticism is most fundamentally a very great grace, indeed the fulfillment of a life of grace (and so, of prayer) which can occasion intense suffering as well as profound joy and a peace in which even one's sufferings can be lived with real equanimity and even more than equanimity. While I appreciate your clarification of what you meant by calling mysticism (i.e., what a mystic practices) an "affliction", the fact that you claim mystics pray to be normal seems to me to support understanding the term "affliction" in the more questionable sense you are now distancing yourself from. Add to that the fact that you chose to use two actual neurological disorders in your comparison; this leads to the sense that "praying to be normal" doesn't mean simply desiring to be a bit more ordinary. It also seems to me to sever the connection between something being God's doing in our lives (always first of all a grace even if we are unable to perceive it readily) and I still find your comparison inapt. Maybe you simply chose badly and want to retract the comparison?
3. that the term mystical prayer is meaningful and is used by Prof Knowles in the book you yourself recommended the day before yesterday, and of course, by many others throughout the history of the Church and its reflection on "mystical theology".  
4. that certain secondary or accidental qualities (visions, locutions, levitation, reading souls, stigmata, etc., etc.) are not the essence of mysticism or the mystical life, and further that the theology of God as Absolute Mystery (not some reference to mystery cults) is the genuine source of the traditional sense of "mystical prayer", mystical path, and related terms within Roman Catholicism and Christianity more generally. We call prayer mystical precisely because it is caused immediately by and involves the pray-er in an immediate experience of the Absolute Mystery we know as God. Some writers contrast this with ascetical or acquired contemplation, which is about what one does with one's own heart and mind (raising one's heart or mind to God, for instance). I am not sure what your position is on any of this because as far as I am aware, you haven't provided a definition of a mystic.

Please consider this a sincere invitation and feel free to email me with any material you believe will be helpful to me or to readers of this blog in clarifying disputed points or points of misunderstanding. I will be happy to post any substantive response here and give you full credit and my gratitude for taking the time to do so. In the meantime, in the interests of mutual respect and transparency, I am emailing a copy of this invitation and clarification to you directly as well as posting it here. Thanks for your attention.

All my best.

Sister Laurel O'Neal, Er Dio

ADDENDUM:

MC was unable (i.e., she declined) to supply either the definition of mystic she uses, or the location in What is Mysticism? of Dom Knowles' position that mystics are born not made. Disappointing, but not a problem. I was able to glean a couple of things from her responses and blogs which differ from my own and traditional understandings which do not need to be detailed here except to note that she and I are talking about two different realities when we use the word mystic. Maybe more important was the fact that the invitation led to input from other sources which helped clarify David Knowles' position. (Dom Knowles was a British Benedictine Church Historian, so others who know and admire his work have supplied summaries of his positions.) Here is what I learned: 

1. Knowles does not say mystics are born rather than made. Like many, Knowles accepts infused contemplation/mystical prayer is a gift of God, not merely acquired by long work in prayer (though he clearly believes such prayer can dispose one towards receiving this greatest of gifts). It is sui generis and not induced by acts of the will, stands distinct from what is sometimes called "acquired contemplation" because it is infused as a gift of God, and finds its closest approximation in what is called the "prayer of simplicity". But in this Dom Knowles is restating the Carmelite positions of SS. Teresa and John of the Cross. Even so, he is not saying mystics are born.
2. Dom Knowles also considers markers or accidental qualities like visions and locutions, things to which, he contends, psychologists of religion give disproportionate attention, [[to be confined to the initial and immature stages of the mystical way.]] (Here he is speaking of "stages" falling short of full union with God. As he also pointed out however re Teresa of Avila, the saint refers to beginners in prayer as all those whose prayer falls short of complete union with God. In other words, that would include all of us up to and through the prayer of quiet so we should certainly not necessarily take the terms "immature" or "beginner" in common, much less pejorative, senses.) Again, Prof. Knowles seems to be in agreement with St Teresa and the general Carmelite tradition in such things. By the way, Dom Knowles also seems to be in agreement with the contemporary Ruth Burrows (Sister Miriam, OCD) regarding the place of mystical experiences in the life of grace/prayer.
3. The related terms mystical prayer, mystical path, and mystic are profoundly meaningful terms rather than being nonsensical for Knowles, Teresa, John of the Cross, Elizabeth of the Trinity, and the entire Carmelite family even when there are differences in labeling the dimensions of the life of grace/prayer which all find difficult to speak of. 

Just a note: I am working on a post which links this discussion with yesterday's consecration of Ukraine and Russia which Pope Francis requested and the way we observed it at daily liturgy in my parish yesterday. It also ties in profoundly to the role of contemplative prayer and/or the mystical path in achieving peace in our world and draws from my own prayer re the consecration and reading I have been doing about contemplative prayer/mysticism in Thomas Merton. 

For instance, it is absolutely fascinating to me how it is a mystic's infused contemplation takes them out of this world and out of any dependence on self to dependence on God alone precisely so they can live in this world, as a source of peace. The very thing that seems to make mystics/contemplatives stand apart and marks their experiences in prayer as incommunicable and uncommon, recreates and sends them back to "the world" as those who can encounter it as prophetic missionaries of peace and wholeness. It is the same dynamic which stands at the heart of eremitical life's "stricter separation from the world" and something I have been writing about for many years now. As a friend and colleague -- another diocesan hermit -- joyfully affirmed when, among other things, we spoke about Elizabeth of the Trinity, contemplation, and eremitical life, last week, [[It is all about encounter!!]] So, more about this in a bit (I hope!).

The world is About to Turn (Canticle of the Turning)

 As we approach the day of the Church's consecration of Russia and Ukraine to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I wanted to repost a song which reminds me very much of the power of prayer and of Christian peace-making. Our God, we are reminded in Matthew's Gospel for instance, is a God of mercy and justice. His love makes all things right; his mercy is the way he establishes justice, and his Love burns away all that is untrue or a distortion of reality. As we pray and work for the coming of the Kingdom of God in fullness, let us keep in mind the promise and power of our God and our own role as peacemakers.

Thanks once again to Sister Michelle Sherliza, OP for the wonderful video version of this canticle.

Follow Up on Hermits, Contemplatives and Mystics?

[[Sister Laurel, can you provide a link to the person whose blog was being referred to in the post on Hermits: Contemplatives and Mystics? I would like to check out what he says for myself. Thank you for that. I have done a lot of reading about mysticism and mystics and my understanding tends to comport with yours, that is, we are all created for and called to union with God and at the same time only God can take hold of us in the way that happens in what St Teresa of Avila calls infused contemplation, but especially mystical betrothal, and mystical marriage for example. I don't know what it would mean to say a mystic is born but if that's true, either one is born a mystic, or one can't ever become one [and mystical prayer would be closed to one for the whole of one's life] **. I don't think John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, St Francis of Assisi, Angela of Foligno, or Therese of Lisieux were born mystics but no one suggests they did not become mystics even if God was the one who made it happen!]]

Yes, I will get the link for you --- at least to the blog itself if not to specific posts being referenced.

I also agree that mystics aren't born but in fact are "made" (by God, of course) --- though again, I believe every person created by God has the potential for mystical prayer. One passage in David Knowles' book, What is Mysticism? makes me chuckle because by using St Teresa's encouragement of her Sisters to persist in their efforts to reach what is sometimes called the prayer of recollection, (she says it will only take a year, maybe six months), Knowles underscores the place of growth in prayer in the "mystical path", and by implication in contemplative prayer and then mystical prayer. 

He explains, [[The assertion of Teresa that it can be acquired must not be taken to mean that, like bicycling or swimming, it merely needs a short instruction and some practice. St Teresa may have misled some by her somewhat offhand empirical assertion that it can be acquired in a year or six months. We may forget that she herself spent fifteen years when prayer was tedious to her and that she has already described at length the first stage of prayer, its difficulties and distractions, the need for serious resolve and the absolute sacrifice of all else save God.]] and then Knowles continues, [[ It is only when the prayer of recollection has become settled and pure, maintained through aridities and distractions for long, that it can be regarded as in any sense a disposition for infused contemplation.]] (emphasis added)

When Teresa speaks of the deeper forms of prayer moving from recollection and beginning with the prayer of quiet, Knowles indicates how very different her language is: [[This prayer [she writes] is something supernatural to which no effort of our own can raise us, because here the soul rests in peace --- or rather, our Lord gives it peace by his presence.]] Another example from Teresa, [[We cannot make the day break, nor can we stop the night from coming on. This prayer is no work of ours: it is supernatural and utterly beyond our control.]] Of course, we cannot cause infused contemplation or mystical prayer; again, they are the work of God, but we can dispose ourselves toward this gift, or rather, these gifts. One can hardly do that if one is either born a mystic or not, period. On the one hand (if one is born a mystic) all the hard work of prayer and growth in the virtues is irrelevant and on the other (if one is not born a mystic) it all becomes essentially futile even as a way of disposing the soul to God's immediate intervention.

Throughout his work David Knowles refers to the "Mystic path" or to "mystical prayer" (Op Cit., p.81, apparently not a nonsensical or [[insensible]] word at all) and he speaks of a process during which prayer becomes [[gradually less and less a matter of words or motions of the will and more and more simple loving attention to God, until this too merges into a new realization or experience of the presence of God in the soul, with its accompaniment of a new knowledge and love of God which do not come from any purely human thought or motion. Herein is the beginning of the mystical life.]] (emphasis added) And then Knowles cites Teresa again, [[ Herein there is nothing to be afraid of, but everything to hope for]]. . .[[prayer is the door to those great graces which our Lord bestowed on me. If this door be shut, I do not see how he can bestow them.]] and again, [[How must one begin? I maintain that this is the chief point; in fact, that everything depends on their having a great and most resolute determination never to halt until they reach their journey's end, happen what may, whatever the consequences are, cost what it will, let who will blame them, whether they reach the goal or die on the road, or lose heart to bear the trials they encounter, or the earth itself goes to pieces beneath their feet.]] (emphasis added throughout)

In all of this and so much more we are dealing with the paradox that the mystic way or the way of mystical prayer, which means the way of a mystic, in fact requires effort and often long effort in prayer or "friendship with God" even as mystical prayer itself is the complete and immediate gift of God himself. Words failed Teresa and she worked out terms for various prayer forms over time (though she still wrote marvelously about all of this), just as words failed John of the Cross (it is hard to think of his Spiritual Canticle as a failure of words but it is!!) because of both the incommensurability of the experience and the ineffability of God. Still, they also succeeded so that even when Teresa takes pains to indicate something is not supernatural (or infused or mystical) prayer, there is the implication that there are forms of prayer which are these things!! I guess I understand mystics as those who are gifted by God with mystical prayer (i.e., an immediate experience of God's presence and union with God). As far as I can tell, no scholar of mystical theology and no mystic, especially Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, but I think also Elizabeth of the Trinity who I am reading now, believes one is born a mystic, though of course, they would all affirm we are created for union with God.  

Here is a link to the latest post in the blog referenced in the earlier question and post: Mystics are born Mystics. Please note that the author (MC) recommends David Knowles' book as a good place to start!! For that reason I referred to him above. Unfortunately, though I have read this book at least a couple of times, I can't remember or (now) locate even one place where he argues mystics are born not made, particularly as this position is opposed to the rest of what is cited above. Perhaps someone knowledgeable re where this is found might provide the citation. Knowles' book itself, by the way, is described on the cover (or dust jacket) as [[set(ting) out, in a very short compass and with remarkable lucidity, the traditional explanation of the mystical life as the fullness of the life of grace. Prof Knowles illustrates the mystical (or contemplative) life from the great English mystics of the Middle Ages. . . [to] Elizabeth of the Trinity in the present century.]] This surely says the mystical and the contemplative life are of a piece, no? 

Another necessary piece of this discussion which I have not seen in MC's blogs (unless she is writing about c 603, which is of primary interest or concern to me, I tend not to read her much so I could well have missed this) --- but what I have not seen even in the most recent posts arguing her position here is an actual definition of the term mystic. It is important to understand, I think, how she is using the term (besides calling it an "affliction like Autism or Cerebral palsy" which causes mystics to "pray to be normal"). If a mystic is born, then what constitutes a mystic? Is it the secondary or accidental qualities of visions, locutions, stigmata, levitation, and the like or is it, as all mystics seem to say, the result of union with God (i.e., the fulfillment of a life of grace) which requires a long apprenticeship in prayer? Just one more piece of the puzzle I would like clarified myself by MC or others who disagree with what I have written.

** thanks to the questioner for sending on the clarification added to the question above. I agree it is helpful.

Hermits, Contemplatives and Mystics?

[[ Sister Laurel, are all hermits mystics? Are they all contemplatives? Is there room in the Catholic Church for mystics? I was reading a blog by a Catholic hermit who says anyone can be a contemplative but one is born a mystic. I just wondered about that because in some older posts you seemed to reject being a mystic and prefer the term contemplative. Do you still feel that way? I also wondered what it means to be born a mystic and if parishes would be upset by a mystic whom they thought could see into people and I think I would be turned off by that, even scared by it. One person writing about all of this suggests that the Church doesn't really have space for mystics and calls mysticism "an affliction like cerebral palsy or autism. . ." ]] (links deleted)

First, I can't conceive of a hermit who is not a contemplative and becoming more and more a contemplative every day. It is part of the very definition of the word hermit as far as I understand eremitical life. Some hermits will, therefore, also be mystics, meaning not merely that they have been immediately gifted by God with mystical prayer and therefore, will have grown in their contemplative lives to the deeper or infused forms of contemplative prayer; it also means they will have had their hearts remade entirely in terms of the virtues and God's love; a mystic is the dwelling place or tabernacle of the active and creative Mystery or depth dimension of all reality whom we call God; they live in greater or lesser degrees of union with God. Such union with absolute Mystery which only God can bring about is evident in their prayer but also in their ordinary lives, and so we call them mystics. While such persons may suffer as all human beings suffer, and sometimes quite intensely in their currently unrealizable yearning for final or ultimate union with God, I don't think any mystic would liken coming to greater degrees of union with God --- the very thing we are made for and come to joyful rest in --- to an affliction like cerebral palsy or autism.

We are all capable of becoming mystics -- even though God alone empowers the deeper expressions of contemplative prayer. It's quite a paradox!!! In fact, as just noted we are all "made for" this degree of prayer and life in union with God who is, again, absolute Mystery --- though few will experience it in their lives. In the Eastern Church the process of growth toward mystical prayer and union with God referred to here is called deification. Few "achieve" it this side of death, unfortunately, but all are made for it. To that extent I believe we can say we are all born to be mystics (those who experience union with God that is wholly God's immediate gift), but I don't think it is appropriate to say some are born mystics and others are not. Moreover, simply because one has occasional mystical experiences I believe the use of the term mystic is still to be cautiously applied. Mystics are not primarily about mystical experiences or phenomena like visions, locutions, and the like; they are first and last about union with God and that means these persons are shot through with Divine love and are transparent to it in a way which, in Christ, makes them into the very imago Dei they were made to be --- whether they are in prayer or living their ordinary lives. If one can say a person's life is defined by (i.e., conformed to and transformed by) immediate experiences of the Love which is God's very self, then I think we can say the person is a mystic, no matter the attendant and secondary phenomena.

Personally, I still prefer the term contemplative, in part because it is easier for folks to understand, but also because I am a contemplative who has occasional mystical experiences (that is, immediate experiences of the God Who is Love) as a kind of subset of this larger category of prayer; Moreover, I look towards union with God as a goal I am called to by God himself, not as a kind of achievement I want or need to point to. I don't think most parishes would have a problem with someone having occasional mystical experiences during liturgy, for instance, so long as the community understands what is happening. Ordinarily, the person praying in this way is profoundly quiet; this may even mean that one's breathing might cease or become indiscernible. Thus, unless one has explained the situation to others they might be concerned about a medical emergency, but if the situation was occasional and understood I don't see where it would be a problem. 

Other manifestations need not, but might well be or become problematical, and that would include the ability to read others' hearts. While one might have this ability, one does not need to reveal it to people, and prudence says ordinarily one should not do so apart from a strong pastoral need and authority. My sense is that God would only gift someone with such an ability in instances of exceptional need, along with the capacity for profound compassion, humility, and discretion, not to mention more than a modicum of tact. Ordinarily, this gift is associated with confessors who read into the heart or conscience and assisted the person in moving toward greater union with God. Outside of anecdotes about a number of priests I am not sure I know precisely all this gift entails, but I do know people who are profoundly perceptive about people and seem to miss nothing of what is going on with them. One of these is marked by her compassion and discretion as well and this may mean she can see into others' hearts in ways most of us cannot. When the two qualities are combined there is nothing scary about it --- though it can be unnerving initially until it is clear the person never judges others and does not otherwise misuse what they see/know. Still, perhaps this is only a weak approximation of the gift some confessors have been known to have.

Does the Church have room for mystics? Of course! In fact, she needs them and has always done --- even when their presence has been challenging or hard to deal with. But I think she has even less tolerance for those who are not genuine mystics, meaning those who might want to be recognized for "gifts" without being deeply prayerful, profoundly loving, and practiced in the virtues. In other words, mystics have a certain degree of holiness and that can be/is inspiring to others in ways we all need. What we don't need, however, are those who drop into what is supposed to be ecstasy-on-schedule or trance-via-trigger (I am thinking self-hypnosis here), or those who pretend to have been given the gift of reading others' hearts while demonstrating not the least bit of compassion for those others or true insight into themselves. 

Once again, as I have written before, "by their fruits, you shall know them"; the primary measure of the true mystic will always be their capacity to love as Christ loves, to be virtuous as Christ is virtuous, to be imago Dei or imago Christi as every person is ultimately called to be ("I, yet not I, but Christ in me!" is one of Paul's ways of describing himself as Christian and mystic who has experienced a degree of union with God). Only secondarily is such a person's life/prayer marked by mystical phenomena and I sincerely believe it is unlikely in the ordinary course of things, that such phenomena would be known to a larger parish congregation.

Feast of St Benedict

My prayers for and very best wishes to my Sisters and Brothers in the Benedictine family on this Feast of St Benedict! Special greetings to the Camaldolese Benedictine Sisters at Transfiguration Monastery in Windsor, NY, the Camaldolese monks at Incarnation Monastery in Berkeley, and New Camaldoli in Big Sur, and the Trappistine Sisters at Redwoods Abbey in Whitethorn, CA.

In Chapter 19 of the Rule of Benedict we read, "God's presence is never so strong as while we are celebrating the work of God in the oratory." Rachel Srubas, Oblate OSB, wrote the following in her reflection on this text.

 

The Labor of Prayer

You summon me here for the labor

of prayer, and hum within

the congregation's one, hymning voice.

Antiphons that underscore the themes of grace

frame and reinforce our common praise.

      In the unsung pauses between psalms,

        my mind stays still, or wanders.

        You offer through both chant and silence,

Spirit-guidance I

   may thankfully retrace one day.

 

 

While diocesan hermits have no congregation with whom we say or sing Office most of us do pray some portion of the Liturgy of the Hours each day and some of us sing them. I use the Camaldolese office book and especially love singing Compline from it. I feel a special kinship with those others I know who generally sing (parts of) the Office each day, especially the Camaldolese and the Trappistines of Redwood Abbey. Because my vocation is an ecclesial one and dedicated to assiduous prayer it only makes sense to pray the Liturgy of the Hours as part of that.

 

For those who have never thought of either saying or singing Office and particularly for those who think of the LOH as something meant only for Religious and Clergy let me remind you that the Liturgy of the Hours is the Official Prayer of the Church and is meant for the Laity as well. Some parishes celebrate parts of the LOH frequently, some only during Holy Week or on special feasts or Sundays.  But all of us are invited by the Church to pray the LOH as part of the Church's life and ministry of prayer.

 

Resources are available for folks who would like to learn to pray Office. One that many really like is Universalis which allows them to download the day's office to their computer or handheld. Another option is the devotional "Give us this Day" which includes an abbreviated version of Morning and Evening Prayer as well as the Mass readings and reflections on the readings, saint of the day, etc. I use it especially for the reflections and recommend it. It would be a great way to begin praying Morning and Evening Prayer.