Speaking to a group of scholars and students of the University of Paris in the year 1140, St. Bernard described how the Lord calls us to conversion by revealing the truth about ourselves to ourselves. He claimed that such conversion was not something that could come about merely by his own words, but rather by the Word of the Lord alone. He saw himself as a prophet, one proclaiming the voice of God which was already resounding in the hearts of those who were listening. About twenty of his listeners abandoned their careers on the spot and followed him, becoming monks of Clairvaux. What did he say which so moved the members of this academic community?
He touched on three key themes in the Catholic Tradition of Christian spirituality which remain as relevant for us today as they were for those who heard them proposed in Paris: the agony of guilt, the certainty of death, and the yearning of the heart for God. It is true that most spiritualities deal with these realities in one way or another, but the Christian faith proposes a connection between these realities. Through faith in the Risen Lord, Christians have experienced not only relief from guilt but a healing of the very cause of guilt in us. In the face of death, they have found a way to cling to an invincible hope which nothing, no amount of suffering or privation in this life, can take away. Finally, through Christ crucified, they claim to have realized a union with God in love already in this life and feel sustained by the living presence and power of the One they profess to be at the right hand of the Father.
In our next post, we will consider how Christ is the answer to guilt, death and our desire for God in the thought of St. Bernard.
September 10, 2010
September 9, 2010
The Ways of Prayer - Prostration
Among the Nine Ways of Prayer of St. Dominic, he seems to have associated prostration with the gift of tears. To really weep, to have one's heart punctured by the reality of a situation, this is the first step to real conversion. And to prostrate oneself - to throw oneself flat on the ground - is a gesture not only of humility but also of begging. It is in fact a pleading for mercy. Because wanting to change and being able to change are two different things. For a person to truly be able to change, he needs more than good intentions, he needs God's mercy. Mercy is love that suffers the affliction of another so that person's dignity might be rescued. Such love is a total free gift, a gift no one has a right to. Yet the restoration of our dignity, the dignity of the sons and daughters of God, is something we all vitally need. That is why, in asking for mercy, prostration is a fitting gesture to make with our body. It is a gesture that says to God - "I am not worthy to have you come under my roof" and "Even the dogs receive their master's table scraps." And if we feel like we no longer need to beg God for mercy for ourselves, then St. Dominic instructed his friars to shed tears of compunction for the world.
September 8, 2010
Part II - Christ heals our indifference through our neighbor
Indifference sneaks up on us when we are not careful and we like to pretend we have not become as indifferent as we sometimes really are. But the Lord constantly tries to show us the peril we are in. For me, he sends beggars and the physically suffering. These are angels sent to admonish me, to call me back to my humanity. Catherine Doherty, the foundress of Madonna House would admonish her staff workers to get in touch with their inner street person. Indeed, if we look closely, reflected in the eyes of those who are reduced to begging is an image of ourselves, and at the same time, the Lord himself.
I sometimes wonder whether God does not allow some people to suffer poverty so that the rest of us might begin to understand just how poor we really are. When I am captured by the eyes of my neighbor, it is not that I want to look at physical suffering, material privation, rejection, loneliness, and despair. I catch myself looking the other way, and yet, in this very act, I become aware of my own inhumanity. Memories of the Good Samaritan convict me: the worst poverty with which anyone could ever be inflicted is to see someone broken by the circumstances of life and not to be moved by that person's plight.
This realization is itself a grace - something to take courage in, a starting point for conversion. The truth is, no matter how broken the person is before me, I am more broken - and it is from this sense of where I am really at that I can finally reach out to my brother or sister and find Jesus. Jesus is come to me in the gift of this person -not despite his dire circumstances, but somehow through them. The dynamism of humanity is that in its authentic manifestations it ought only invoke the response of love. In the face of the dehumanizing circumstances before me, how am I to love this man, this woman, with the right reverence owed her and the true honor he deserves? Now, by a pure unexpected grace, I have the freedom that indifference once robbed me of, the freedom to love. Yes, this person before me, who at first I saw as a distraction or even a problem to solve, is truly a gift from God - not just in a general sense, but particularly, in a personal way, for me. This person, this gift from God is unique in all the world. There will never be another moment like this present moment we have in this situation right now. How can I let it pass by? Prayer flows at once, like a river, and sometimes I feel like the good thief, and any kindness or generosity I muster whispers the prayer, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom."
Only the Lord's presence in such a person and through such a person can free me, can pierce me to the heart, so that I might remember what it means to be human again. It is only when we are pierced to the heart that we really begin to pray.
Prayer and Indifference - part I
To grow in prayer requires some small measure of humanity on our part because it is only with grace-filled humanity that the Lord can enjoy our friendship. But our humanity is constantly undermined by dark tendencies we must learn to offer to the Lord. One of these dark tendencies is indifference.
Indifference is a dreadful obstacle to listening to God. It is like mildew festering in the dark places of the heart - constantly causing damage to the joy and peace the Lord wants us to know. Like most household monsters, no one likes to deal with it. We would rather pretend it was not there. But like mildew, indifference is extremely unhealthy for the soul. This disease, if not quickly treated, will fester into something mortal.
Sometimes when we go to pray we even discover our hearts have become too callous to truly attend to the Lord's loving presence. Instead we experience an aversion to God and the things of God. The temptation is to procrastinate, to put off the prayer time until later, for some future moment when we feel like praying. The problem is, if we do not address our indifference, we are at grave risk for abandoning prayer altogether. The moment we notice our indifference, that is the moment to raise our hearts in prayer and to ask Jesus to have mercy on us.
In her Autobiography, Teresa of Avila describes how she became so indifferent to Christ she put off really praying for years. But the Lord never gave up on her. She goes on to relate how the Lord broke through her hard heart and gave her the gift of tears.
In my next post, I will explain one of the ways Christ crucified shows us how to face our aversion to him. He is the divine physician who can heal our indifference.
Indifference is a dreadful obstacle to listening to God. It is like mildew festering in the dark places of the heart - constantly causing damage to the joy and peace the Lord wants us to know. Like most household monsters, no one likes to deal with it. We would rather pretend it was not there. But like mildew, indifference is extremely unhealthy for the soul. This disease, if not quickly treated, will fester into something mortal.
Sometimes when we go to pray we even discover our hearts have become too callous to truly attend to the Lord's loving presence. Instead we experience an aversion to God and the things of God. The temptation is to procrastinate, to put off the prayer time until later, for some future moment when we feel like praying. The problem is, if we do not address our indifference, we are at grave risk for abandoning prayer altogether. The moment we notice our indifference, that is the moment to raise our hearts in prayer and to ask Jesus to have mercy on us.
In her Autobiography, Teresa of Avila describes how she became so indifferent to Christ she put off really praying for years. But the Lord never gave up on her. She goes on to relate how the Lord broke through her hard heart and gave her the gift of tears.
In my next post, I will explain one of the ways Christ crucified shows us how to face our aversion to him. He is the divine physician who can heal our indifference.
Dominic's Nine Ways of Prayer
Many who want a deeper prayer life find themselves unable to devote longer periods of time to pray because of distractions and the absence of devotion. And it is true: one should not pray longer than one has devotion. Christ himself warned us against using empty words in prayer or praying mindlessly. But how then do we develop the kind of devotion where we are able to give our full attention to God for longer periods of time?
St. Dominic was able to pray for more extended periods of time with greater intensity because he used his body in prayer. He and his first brethren experienced how praying with one's body stirs up devotion in nine ways. In this post, we will explore the first of these: bowing in prayer. Dominic would bow whenever he came before an altar or crucifix or whenever anyone prayed, "Glory to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit."
This practice was not simply mechanistic: Humbly bowing his head was a heartfelt response for humility Christ embraced for his own sake and the sake of the whole world. By practicing this bodily gesture he gave his heart a chance to be devoutly mindful of the Lord's unimaginable and inexhaustible love.
The heart does not always respond the way it should and has a tendency to forget what is most important. Our freedom in Christ was bought at a great price. He did not simply wish us to be free of the power of death, he offered his body and died that we might live. The only proper response to such love is to freely love in return with our whole being - to offer the Lord a grateful heart. But we are so fickle. We fail to remember the gift we have recieved and our hearts grow often grow cold without our even being aware that this has happened.
But when we bow our heads in prayer it serves as a reminder to our heart and things that ought never be forgotten are called to mind once again. What we do in with our bodies informs the heart. At the same time, as our hearts are moved with devotion, our bodies become capable of offering true spiritual worship. The bow that stirs loving gratitude suddenly becomes the expression of a true devotion, a real commitment to Christ.
This first way of prayer addresses a truth about the way God made us and the way He chose to save us. When He created us in his image and likeness, our bodies were not inconvenient after thoughts. The image of God in us is somehow manifest in our bodies - from infancy to old age. This means that what we do with our bodies always has a spiritual dimension, something beyond this world that looks out to the Lord either accepting or rejecting that world. Similarly, just as our salvation was worked out through the crucified body of Christ, our prayerful response also involves our bodies - the Christian body is meant to become a spiritual offering to God, and a humble bow which gratefully acknowledges God's unsurpassable love is one way to make this offering.
St. Dominic was able to pray for more extended periods of time with greater intensity because he used his body in prayer. He and his first brethren experienced how praying with one's body stirs up devotion in nine ways. In this post, we will explore the first of these: bowing in prayer. Dominic would bow whenever he came before an altar or crucifix or whenever anyone prayed, "Glory to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit."
This practice was not simply mechanistic: Humbly bowing his head was a heartfelt response for humility Christ embraced for his own sake and the sake of the whole world. By practicing this bodily gesture he gave his heart a chance to be devoutly mindful of the Lord's unimaginable and inexhaustible love.
The heart does not always respond the way it should and has a tendency to forget what is most important. Our freedom in Christ was bought at a great price. He did not simply wish us to be free of the power of death, he offered his body and died that we might live. The only proper response to such love is to freely love in return with our whole being - to offer the Lord a grateful heart. But we are so fickle. We fail to remember the gift we have recieved and our hearts grow often grow cold without our even being aware that this has happened.
But when we bow our heads in prayer it serves as a reminder to our heart and things that ought never be forgotten are called to mind once again. What we do in with our bodies informs the heart. At the same time, as our hearts are moved with devotion, our bodies become capable of offering true spiritual worship. The bow that stirs loving gratitude suddenly becomes the expression of a true devotion, a real commitment to Christ.
This first way of prayer addresses a truth about the way God made us and the way He chose to save us. When He created us in his image and likeness, our bodies were not inconvenient after thoughts. The image of God in us is somehow manifest in our bodies - from infancy to old age. This means that what we do with our bodies always has a spiritual dimension, something beyond this world that looks out to the Lord either accepting or rejecting that world. Similarly, just as our salvation was worked out through the crucified body of Christ, our prayerful response also involves our bodies - the Christian body is meant to become a spiritual offering to God, and a humble bow which gratefully acknowledges God's unsurpassable love is one way to make this offering.
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