Wow!

Jim Caveziel's message is just like listening to Jesus Christ Himself.  This video takes 40 minutes, but I, who have no patience for videos over 5 minutes, sat mesmerized, not even wanting to look away.  If you want the best "church" experience ever, sit back and watch this video with an open heart and mind.





https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0A6zyN37uw&feature=player_embedded

The Beauty of Silence

When I first read the Diary of Sr. Faustina, Divine Mercy in My Soul, I was a little puzzled by her repetition to herself: "Silence, Silence."  After all, Sister Faustina lived in a convent where silence was the rule most of the time, except for designated times of recreation and business.  Gradually, however, I came to realize that, as the recipient of Divine Revelation for the world -- the revelation of the Divine Mercy, -- Sister Faustina had her critics and attackers.  In some parts of the world, there is what is called "the tall-poppy syndrome."  That is, anyone who stands out above the others is scorned as prideful, as attempting to show off and call attention to oneself -- the "tall poppy."

Even many of my students at Delgado, who were the first generation of their families to attend college, had to battle the "tall poppy" syndrome -- the "who do you think you are?" questions, the belittling of their ambition to "get ahead" of the others.  Often,  jealousy among family and friends was almost overwhelming, as they did all they could to throw roadblocks in the path of the college student.  Sister Faustina experienced much of the same reaction from those around her, inside and outside of the convent.  Her cry of "Silence" meant to still her soul against the natural response we have to attack from the outside -- the attempt to defend ourselves, the attempt to explain how and why we are doing the things we do.

Interior silence -- surrendering the chance to defend and explain ourselves -- is the most difficult of spiritual disciplines.  It means relying on and trusting in God to defend us against our attackers, believing that He will come to our aid if we lay down our own weapons of defense.  Mary exhibited this trust when she simply said to Joseph, "I am with child."  She could not explain; no one would believe what she said.  She had to trust God to explain what she could not -- and He did.

The problem for us is that we all begin, in the first half of life, in the dualistic state of mind: making distinctions -- this, not that.  We need to make distinctions before we can move beyond them: our family, not that one; our tribe, our religion, our team, etc.  And our team needs to win, especially in high school!  Most of our history is lived in the first-half-of-life consciousness.

Few people move beyond that dualistic mind-set, even in the second half of life.  My brother remarked yesterday that we really don't know what life is until after sixty, when it is no longer about winning, but about being and integrity.  What makes space for that larger and truer level of being is interior silence -- no longer judging, dividing, striving against, competing with, but rather absorbing all that is, just as it is -- the mystical experience I wrote about yesterday, in terms of art.

In Silent Compassion: Finding God in Contemplation, Richard Rohr says, "It is either all God's work or you have a hard time finding God in the mere parts."  Silence allows us to stop defending our own viewpoint and our own way of life long enough to absorb meaning from all that is:  Silence allows the whole, and does not get lost in and over-identify with the parts....it seems that only poets and mystics now have time for such things as meaning or depth.  Silence is that ever-faithful companion, a portal to constantly deeper connection with whatever is in front of you (Rohr).

I would like to quote pages and pages from this book, but all I can do is to recommend a thoughtful, prayerful reading of Silent Compassion. In fact, I am now reading it for the second time and deriving even more depth and understanding than I did on the first reading.

Recently, I had the experience of receiving a long, devastating e-mail that kind of took my breath away.  I did not know where to begin answering all the accusations it contained.  If I took one point at a time, it may have taken me a month or more to "explain" that I had not even thought of the things I was being accused of.  Wrestling with the thoughts and emotions that kept surfacing in response, I turned to prayer -- what should I do?  Where to begin?  Eventually, the answer came:  Wait three days before answering.  Immediately, peace entered my soul; at least for the next three days, I didn't have to do anything at all.  That answer relieved my mind of trying to sort out this from that, truth from half-truth, defense from compassion. 

In experiencing that moment of freedom from the "noise" in my head and heart, I felt that I had been released from a cage.  In the next three days, I became addicted to the silence, freedom from fear, and the need to defend myself, and the peace I was experiencing.  By the end of the time, I preferred the peace of Christ to the need to be "right."  I was able to let it all go.  Later, I was to read Rohr's words:

Leave the silence open-ended. Do not try to settle the dust.  Do not rush to resolve the inner conflict.  Do not seek a glib, quick answer, but leave all things for a while in the silent space. Do not rush to judgment.  That is what it really means that God alone is the judge.  Inner silence frees you from the burden of thinking that your judgment is needed or important. Real silence moves you from knowing things to perceiving a presence that has a reality in itself.  Could that be God?

Twentieth-century philosopher Martin Buber explored relationships in terms of I-it and I - thou.  In an "I-it" relationship, we define and label "this," not that.  We rob people and things of inner meaning and reduce them to objects for us to manipulate and control.  But the "I-thou" relationship simply respects the other without adjusting it, naming it, changing it, fixing it, controlling it, or trying to explain it.  That is the openness of mind, heart, and soul that can come to know God.

As Rohr points out, That does not mean that there is not a place for explaining, not a place for understanding.  But first you have to learn to say "yes" to the moment....if you start with "no," which is critiquing, judging, pigeonholing, analyzing, dismissing, it is very hard to get back to "yes."  You must learn to start every single encounter with a foundational yes, before you ever dare to move to no.  That is the heart of contemplation, and it takes a lifetime of practice.  But you have now begun and can live each day with a forever-returning beginner's mind.  It will always be silent before it dares to speak. 

I think my experience in the art gallery is a life-time lesson for me.  In the silence, in the reverence of  "not - knowing" ahead of time, in the absence of any "explanation" of what the artist was attempting to reveal, I was moved to tears by beauty which touched my soul.  Then my mind began to embrace and attempt to shape the experience into words, just so I could understand and grasp even more consciously and intensely what I had experienced.  It has been said that theology is "love seeking understanding." 

When I "taste and see that the Lord is good," I am overwhelmed with love.  Then, like Peter on the Mountain of Transfiguration, I want to build a tent (of words) so that I can remain in the moment.  I want to invite others into the same tent where I encountered the living God, even while intellectually I know that my words may actually interfere with their own experience, as did the first docent for me. 

Mystical prayer -- interior silence -- allows God to be God, other people to be who they are without our labels and explanations, and the world of nature to enter and change us.  We are vulnerable; we are not building walls to defend our own definitions and experiences.  We are free!

The Casino and the Chapel

I clearly recall my first experience in a casino.  We were visiting relatives in Nevada; when they discovered that I had never set foot in a casino, they were quite sure I was in for a treat -- they would take us to a casino.  Upon entering the door, I was immediately overwhelmed by the cacophony of sounds and the confusion of blinking lights.  The darkened environment infused with artificiality reminded me of the famous bar scene from Star Wars, a scene which invoked in me a sense of fear, strangeness, and danger.

In fact, my immediate reaction to the casino experience was one of fear; it seemed to me that the casino was designed to rob people of their sense of reality and peace, to place them in an environment of artificial excitement, to overwhelm their senses so that they would literally "lose their minds" and all the inhibitions of rational thought.  I could not wait to get out of that place!

If we compare the casino experience to that of our reaction upon entering a small chapel, a beautiful church, an art gallery, viewing the Grand Canyon, or walking along a seashore, the differences are startling.  When we view the grandeur of nature in a sunset, or even the play of light upon leaves in a forest, our immediate response is often a whisper, if we are with a companion.  We fall still, better to absorb the beauty.  The thought of the "bing-bing-bing" of a hundred slot machines in nature is actually blasphemous!  We tread softly, humbly, respectfully, not daring to intrude on the silence that speaks so loudly to our souls in the presence of beauty and peace.

Last week, I visited the Ohr-O'Keefe Museum on the Gulf Coast, a place where the work of different artists is displayed in separate "pods," or buildings.  In the first pod, the beautiful work of a sculptor was displayed.  As I entered the pod, the docent immediately greeted me and began to explain the work, piece by piece.  On and on she talked, giving me the history, the background, the methods, etc. of the sculptor, along with other useless information about his other exhibits.  While trying to be helpful, her words so interfered with my experience of the exhibit that I could not wait to get out of there.  How could she not realize that true art and beauty naturally evokes silence and awe?  By giving me her knowledge and understanding, she deprived me of my own "mystical" experience!

In the next pod, the docent, a young man, greeted me and silently handed me a one-page flyer about the artist and his work.  Then he respectfully backed away, leaving me to view the exhibit in silence.  It was not long before I was moved to tears by the feelings that surfaced in me as I silently and reverently viewed the works of art.  This artist spoke to me in the silence, more powerfully than words ever could!  Having been so moved by what my mind could not entirely process, I turned to the docent to ask some questions.  Again, he directed me to a binder on display which explained in words and pictures some of the "story" behind the artist and his work, but he allowed me to softly turn the pages and read what I chose, skipping the things that did not interest me. 

The latter docent did not try to control my experience; he gave me as much as I wanted, but allowed me to struggle with my own understanding and emotions.  The result was that I fell in love with the work and with the person who had fashioned it out of his own mind and heart.  I had a "mystical" experience -- one that my left-brain eventually wanted to shape into words and understanding, but which had emerged out of my entire intuitive experience: mind, body, emotions, soul, and spirit!

When my husband and I looked for our retirement home on the Gulf Coast, we deliberately stayed away from those cities which had casinos.  Even if one does not attend the casino, the external environment is heavily influenced by the presence of a casino -- the traffic, the constant stream of visitors, the flashing lights competing for attention on building facades, etc.  There is an atmosphere around casinos that does not allow for silence and reverence -- the chapel experience.  Even before one reaches the casino itself, the statues and décor of casino hotels often bespeak the decadence and pleasures of the flesh that draw us away from the silence of the spirit within.

Our world today blares "more, better, brighter, more exiting, more stimulating, more graphic, more violent." There is hardly any room for silence and stillness -- and yet, our spirits crave mysticism.  Tomorrow, I will write about the beauty of silence.

On Mystical Prayer

From the very beginning, encounter with the God of Israel, with the God of Jesus Christ, was always "mystical" -- that is, experiential.  Yahweh was never satisfied with man's ideas or concepts of Who He Is; instead, He always wanted us to experience Him in person.  Abraham heard His Voice, strongly enough for him to leave his people and venture out to a land he knew not where.  And the Voice (probably an inner voice) did not abandon or disappoint him.  God was always with him, even when he made mistakes along the way.

Moses experienced God in the burning bush.  Even though he was afraid, even though he had no confidence in his own ability, the experience of God was strong enough in Moses to eventually lead the Israelites out of the clutches of Pharoah's army.

If God did not want us to experience Him, even now, while still in the flesh, He would not have sent Jesus:  He who sees Me sees the Father; the Father and I are one.  Later, the apostle John was to write: 

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched---this we proclaim concerning the Word of life ...We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ (1John: 1).

 

"Fellowship"  -- it means "experience, touching, sharing, friendship."  We are supposed to go beyond thinking about God, imagining God, to friendship with God.  We are supposed to experience Him body, mind, and soul.  This is what we mean by "mystical prayer."  People imagine that mystics are few and far between, but I tell you that anyone who comes to God in real prayer will experience Him.  He is more ready to reveal Himself to us than we are to see, hear, and taste Him.

 

The psalmist says, "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord."  He means "taste," not something else.  The experience of God is not a left-brain activity; we know Him as we know our friends -- not by "thinking" about them, but by experiencing them -- right brain, left brain, heart, mind, body, and soul.  Mystical prayer is an intuitive grasp of the whole -- God is the center of everything that has life and breath, even of the stones of the earth.  Once we experience Him, everything is holy and inexpressibly beautiful!

 

Immature religion is not experiential; it is cognitive, in the mind.  It is inauthentic in terms of experiencing God, and it is an excuse not to love.  It is more tribal than embracing.  Most of us grew up with the "law" that we were not to enter a non-Catholic church; that was immature religion, based on the understanding of the times.  There are still a few hold-overs from that era, but most of the   church has grown beyond that understanding.

 

Richard Rohr compares organized religion to a holding tank, a container that holds us in one spot long enough for us to discover what the real questions are, and to learn to struggle with the real questions.  According to him, some form of organized religion is necessary for the first half of life...to give you at least the right words to tell you that mystical experience is possible.  The trouble is that it usually tells you that it's possible, but just don't expect it. It's only for special people.

 

A Sunday service and believing a certain set of doctrines -- which is what organized religion means for most people -- is not enough.  All that can do is hold you inside the boxing ring, but it doesn't teach you how to box with the mystery.

 

"Mystical prayer" is looking with a new set of eyes, which are not comparing, competing, judging, labeling, and analyzing, but receiving the moment in its wholeness....If you lead off with the left brain, you lead off with the judging, calculating, dualistic mind; you can't access the holy because the only thing that gets in is what you already think, what you already agree with.  And God is, by definition, unfamiliar, always mysterious, beyond, more.

 

The goal of mystical prayer is divine union -- union with what is, with the moment, with yourself, with the divine -- which means with everything. (Interview with Richard Rohr. St Anthony Magazine, May, 2014).

 

St. Francis, in his union with the sun and the moon, the wolf and the birds, the lilies of the field and with his beloved "Lady Poverty," was a mystic.  In mysticism, the focus is not on what we are doing to "attain perfection," but always on what God is doing in us and in the world around us.  It is opening ourselves to all that is -- the good, the bad, the ugly -- and seeing it from the perspective of the Divine Life in us.  It is entirely possible for each one of us, no matter who or where we are on the path, to experience God.  How that happens will be different for each one of us, but if we are willing and open to it, if we "hunger and thirst for righteousness," if we are pure of heart, we shall see God. 

 

 



Lord of the Flies

The Spirit wars against the flesh, and the flesh against the Spirit....so I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature.  For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature.  They are in conflict with one another, so that you do not do what you want (Gal. 5:16-17).

 

One of the required high-school books was Lord of the Flies by William Golding, a novel that placed young boys as castaways on a desert island.  There, without the rules of civilization, human nature emerged at its worst, and the boys degenerated into savages, mutilating and killing their own company. 

When I look at the nations that have deliberately suppressed Christianity, I see the utmost savagery and inhumanity:  North Korea, North Vietnam, China.  Whenever a tyrant wishes to take over control of a people, the first item on the agenda is to suppress the spirit, especially as expressed in Christianity.  In China's "cultural revolution," all artists, poets, Christians, priests, intellectuals, etc. were either killed or imprisoned.  When North Vietnam took over South Vietnam, all the professional people -- business owners, doctors, teachers, musicians, and the like -- in fact, anyone who wore glasses, indicating that they could and did read -- were exterminated or imprisoned. 

I recently spoke with a woman who escaped S. Vietnam with her family -- father, mother, and ten children, all of whom were intellectuals and professionals -- after the fall of the South.  They fled to the mountains and lived in a make-shift "tent" until they could find someone to take them out of the country in a boat.  Fortunately, these people were wealthy, because when they were hijacked by pirates on the open seas, the pirates were satisfied with the money and jewels they had; otherwise, the men would have been killed and thrown into the sea, and the women raped.

If anyone doubts the belief in original sin, I think they must be blind and deaf to reality.  What is it about the life of the Spirit that so enrages people?  The religious leaders snarled and sneered at Jesus Christ, ultimately determining that He must be done away with.  And soon afterwards, they did the same to Stephen.  In fact, from the time of Cain and Abel, there have always been two "races:" those who "walked with God," and those like Lamech (Gen. 4:23):

...wives of Lamech, hear my words.

I have killed a man for wounding me,

a young man for injuring me.

If Cain is avenged seven times,

then Lamech seventy-seven times. 

 

Human nature without the Spirit of God withers and dies, or becomes inexpressibly cruel.  My friend from Vietnam told me that the cruelty of North Korea was learned from China, where three generations are beheaded for the crime or offense of one man.  She could not express enough the feeling of gratitude for having come to the United States and for breathing the breath of freedom, even though they arrived with nothing but the clothes they were wearing, even though they all -- 12 people-- slept on the floor in a one-bedroom apartment until they could learn English and find jobs.

 

Human nature, without the Spirit, is not pretty.  Romantics would have us believe in the "natural goodness" of mankind.  Perhaps even Denis Rodman believes in the "natural goodness" of North Korea's leader.  I say, let him live under that reign and discover for himself what man is truly like without God.



Intimacy with God

You cannot serve two masters.  If I am truly your Master, you will desire to please me above all others.  If pleasing people is your goal, you will be enslaved to them.  People can be harsh taskmasters when you give them this power over you.....The joy of living in My Presence outshines all other pleasures.  I want you to reflect My joyous light by living in increasing intimacy with Me. 

--from Jesus Calling, May 3

 

 

"Walk with Me; Sit with Me; Stand with Me."  I heard these words spoken to me interiorly years ago as I worked at my desk at the college.  In my mind, I had images of what the words meant, images from the Old Testament -- Enoch, Deborah, and Abraham. 

 

To "walk with God," as did Enoch (Gen. 5) is to be conscious of where He is leading us.  If someone grabs us by the arm and says, "Come with me," we can go only if we discern that person has been sent to us by God to take us in that direction.  The Spirit within us witnesses to our spirit: "This is the path; walk ye in it" (Is. 30).  If we go in response to human respect instead of being led by the Spirit, we enslave ourselves to human respect, which is ultimately fickle and unstable.  On Palm Sunday, the crowds in Jerusalem hailed Jesus with "Hosannahs;" on Good Friday, they shouted "Crucify Him!"  

 

If we walk with Jesus, we know that though we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we will fear no evil, for He is with us.  He did nothing on His own, but only what He saw the Father doing, and the works He did were the works of the Father toward His children.  Would that we, too, could do only what we see Jesus doing.  Paul tells us to "put on Christ Jesus and put off the works of the flesh."  He uses terms in the Greek that refer to clothing.  Most of us have clothing that no longer fits us, either physically or psychologically -- as for example, if we still have "hippie" clothes from the 70's hanging in our closets.  Walking with Jesus means wearing the spiritual clothes He wears: kindness, compassion, mercy, truth.....   We cannot walk with others and wear the clothes they wear if they no longer fit who we are spiritually.

 

"Sitting with God," as did Deborah in the Book of Judges, means listening to Him above all the other voices that try to drown His out.  It means being receptive to Him above all other voices.  The goal of prayer is not to twist God's arm to our concerns, but to open our hearts to hear His Voice, His Will, His Truth about our concerns.  And hearing His Voice stills us, as it stills the voices of those around us. 

 

"Standing with God" reminds us of Abraham, who pleaded with the Lord for the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 18).  The Lord was willing to enter into negotiations with Abraham, agreeing with him that if even 10 good men/women could be found in those cities, He would spare them.  Unfortunately, that number could not be found, but in deference to His friend, God spared the lives of Lot (Abraham's nephew) and his family. 

 

Walking with God, Sitting with God, Standing with God means living in constant intimacy with Him.  He alone is the Source of our peace, our joy, our food.  To know Him is to live and not die a daily death, an event that necessarily follows our dependence on others for our peace, joy, and food.  What they give today, they can take away tomorrow, but Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow!