May we not fear the Climb

Carmel 1893

Dear Leonie,

"We just listened to a beautiful retreat... the good Father spoke especially about union with Jesus... 'Look at the oaks in our countryside... they spread out their branches to the right and left, nothing hinders them, so they never reach a great height.

"On the contrary, look at the oaks of the forest, hemmed in on all sides; they do not see the light except from on high, so their trunks are without all these deformed branches that draw away the sap necessary to go upward.  The oaks see nothing but the sky above, and all their strength is turned in that direction, so soon they attain a prodigious height....

"The soul has light when it looks upon Heaven, there alone it can rest its gaze, never must it fear climbing too much in this direction.'"  (St. Therese of Lisieux)

The priest quoted here was speaking to the Sisters of their Rule, which hemmed them in and, in effect, pressed them "upward."  God obviously considers all people in need of a Rule, for He has given us Scripture and Church teaching to train us in our growth toward Him. 

Oh, but how often are we cautioned not to "climb too much in that direction?"  Told that religion is okay in its place, fine for nuns and priests (and for us too - on Sundays).  Just don't be a fanatic.  Don't be a goody two-shoes, a spoilsport, a prude. 

"All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity.  All are called to holiness: 'Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.' (Matthew 5:48)"  (Catechism of the Catholic Church #2013)

"Christian perfection has but one limit, that of having none."  (St. Gregory of Nyssa, quoted in Catholicism of the Catholic Church #2028)  

Saints, it can be said, have been those without limits.  No limits to their love, no limits to their quest for holiness, no limits as they've allowed God's will and the various circumstances of their lives to press them upward to perfection.

"Follow the saints, because those who follow them will become saints."  (Pope Clement I).  

May we not fear the climb.

To Seal His Oath

"An arch of God's great temple fair thou art,
wrought by some airy builder of the skies;
The sunbeam's secret, wrested from its heart,
and blazed abroad in hues of paradise.
A flaming screed across the heavens flung,
the jeweled autograph of the Most High,
Writ on the sky's wide scroll when earth was young, to seal His oath to centuries gone by."
Sister M. Angeline, "To the Rainbow" 
Albert Beirstadt painting in US public doman                            

Whose Reign is This?

"France 1897; Dear Brother,

I am not at all worried about the future; I am sure God will do His will, it is the only grace I desire.  One must not be more kingly than the King... Jesus has no need of anyone to do His work." (letter from St. Therese of Lisieux)

These words have stopped me in my tracks. They've caused me to take a look around and wonder.  Yes, I've made a choice to let Jesus take His proper position as Lord and King of my life - that is certain.  But in my minute by minute actions, who's really sitting on the throne?

Exactly who is running this life?

I know what I want my answer to be.  But as I sit planning and fretting and occasionally grumbling, I can feel the velvet seat of Command Central beneath me.  It's a position I inherited by birth, being of the line of Adam and Eve.  But King Jesus has offered a better option.

THIS day, THIS moment, in THIS decision - who is on the throne?

Dear Little Lyre of Jesus,

1893 - Dear Celine,
    "There is a passage in the Canticle of Canticles which suits perfectly poor little exiled Celine.  Here it is:  'what do you see in the spouse except choirs of music in an army camp?'  Oh yes, my Celine's life is really a field of battle.... and nevertheless, she must sing.  Her life must be a melody, a choir of music....
    Celine is the little lyre of Jesus.  Is a concert complete when no one sings?  Since Jesus is playing, must not Celine sing?  When the tune is sad, then she will sing the song of the exile, and when the tune is joyful, her voice will make the strains of the homeland heard.  
    All that takes place, all the events of life, will be only distant sounds that will not make the little lyre of Jesus vibrate.  Jesus alone has the right to place His divine fingers on it; creatures are means, instruments, but it is the hand of Jesus that conducts everything.  We must see Him alone in everything...
    Oh, dear Celine, what pleasure Jesus has with His little lyre!  He has so few of them in the world; allow Him to rest near you; do not grow tired of singing since Jesus never grows tired of playing.  One day, up above in the homeland, you will see the fruits of your works...
    After having smiled at Jesus in the midst of tears, you will enjoy the rays of His divine Face, and He will still play on His little lyre..."                
                                                                          St. Therese of the Child Jesus

They Call Across all Boundaries

As I went in search of letters and collections to put "inside the envelopes" on this blog's sidebars, I discovered a particularly interesting book of letters.  A few paragraphs from the Introduction help me remember why I'm so enamored of letters by saints....

"As we read a collection of letters such as this, we make a discovery that opens up new horizons in the Communion of Saints and involves ourselves in a strange and intimate way.  It is that the members of Christ's family recognize and call to one another across all boundaries of space and time; whether they belong to the second century or the nineteenth matters little, for being united by the same love and bound by the same loyalties, they speak the same language.  The saints are not mere memories, over and done with; they are gloriously alive and present..."  (Felicitas Corrigan OSB, The Saints Humanly Speaking, Servant Publications, Ann Arbor, 2000, p.16)

"Follow the tracks of the flock, and pasture the young ones near the shepherds' camps."  (Song of Songs 1:8)

"Since we for our part are surrounded by this cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every encumbrance of sin which clings to us and persevere in running the race which lies ahead."  (Hebrews 12:1)

You've Got Mail!

As part of this blog's new look, I have changed a few pictures on the sidebar:  in particular, the envelopes (and stamps) that I've been using as "decorations." 

I realized, during my recent experiments in Minimal Makeover Blog Edition, that envelopes have a particular function.  They are used to carry messages.  They bring us greetings and surprises and bits of news.

What good is an envelope that will not open?  So now, ours do.  

To open your "mail," just click on any envelope or stamp in the sidebar.  Each will open to take you to an outside link (something other than this blog).  After you check it out, you should be able to get back TO this blog by clicking on the "back arrow" at the upper left of your screen. Each envelope or stamp will take you to a different letter or to a place where you can access writings that may be of interest to you.

But why am I sitting here yammering?  You have mail.

Yep, Same Blog....

There is nothing wrong with your screen.  If you haven't checked in lately, you missed my "let's try this one out shall we.. and then this.. and maybe a shade of that..?" burst of rearranging.  You are indeed one of the lucky ones, who didn't have to endure a seemingly endless string of experimentations with "wallpapers," colors, samplings of different sidebar pictures, furniture shuffling, painting and re-painting of "walls."

Trust me - some of the efforts were pretty not pretty.   

And guess what?  I think I might be done!  I'm back from a Lenten break that wasn't total (I posted a couple of things here after all, because... well.... they were appropriate...).

So here I am, sitting on the floor with splatters of blog-paint in my hair.   So to speak.  Hope you're okay with the new look, which I'll admit that I was personally in need of.  I'm ready to write and read in dark on light, ready for a "fresh new look." It's Spring, after all.  Time to shake off the dust and air out the rooms.  Oh, and the blog content?  That has stayed the same.

Hope you drop back in on Mondayish or Tuesdayish - promptly - when I'll tell you about a few additions (consider them little Easter surprises) you might want to check out. 

In the meantime, may you have a blessed, joyous celebration of Our Lord's Resurrection!

The Nourishment of Prayer

"Prayer places our understanding in the divine brightness and exposes our will to the warmth of heavenly love. There is nothing that so effectually purges our understanding of its ignorance and our will of its depraved affections.

"It is the holy water that makes the plants of our good desires grow green and flourish, that cleanses our souls of their imperfections, and that quenches the thirst of passion in our hearts."  (St. Francis de Sales)

"Rejoice in the Lord always!... Present your needs to God in every form of prayer and in petitions full of gratitude.  Then God's Peace, which is beyond all understanding, will stand guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:4-7)

(painting in US public domain)

Stay tuned - I'm just rearranging the furniture

You've noticed.  If you have ever looked at this blog before, or if you happen to have checked in more than once today, how could you help but notice?  The background colors and design keep changing, and changing, and changing again.

"There is nothing wrong with your screen."
"There's no reason to adjust your picture."
We are simply experiencing technical operator difficulties quirkiness.

I think I'm having an attack of spring cleaning, that's all.  I am now going back to "square one" and starting all over, with a new template, which should not affect the blog's content at all.  But I do warn you - those who have become accustomed to a dark background may come back here in a day or so and find that this blog has a whole new look.

I repeat:  there will be no change in content, nor in content to come. And if we all hate any "new look" that comes from my dusting and sweeping and painting, no worries - the look may just change again!

"There is nothing wrong with your set."  Stay tuned - you might see several different "looks" that come and go!  Gosh - you'd hate to miss that.... !

The Ladder to Heaven

"The Cross is the ladder to Heaven." 
                             (St. John Vianney) 

"Since He died of love for us, we also should die of love for Him; or, if we cannot die of love, at least we should live for Him alone."   
                                    (St. Francis de Sales)

Our Souls Spread Before Him

"Let us spread before His feet, not garments or soulless palm branches, which delight the eyes for a few hours and then wither, but ourselves, clothed in His grace, or rather, clothed completely in Him..... let our souls take the place of the welcoming branches as we join today in the children's holy song:  Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.  Blessed is the King of Israel."  (St. Andrew of Crete, from Liturgy of the Hours for Palm Sunday) 







This post is part of:
This That and the Other Thing: Sunday Snippets--A Catholic Carnival

 

("Palm Sunday" painting by Alfred Stevens 1862.  In US public domain)

 

Preparing for Holy Week

We are now embarking upon the most solemn, serious time in the Church calendar.  Because of this, I will be posting here less. I might put in a photo and Scripture verse once or twice, but most of the time I have for writing will be spent over at the blog The Cloistered Heart, which is at thecloisteredheart.org. There, we are presently talking about the amazing love our God has for us.... love so great that the Father sent His Son to suffer and die to redeem us. If you have a minute, please join us there.

May you be blessed with a holy Holy Week, and a truly blessed Feast of Our Lord's Resurrection.

A Glimpse of Wind

I cannot see wind, but I know when it's around.  I cannot see air, but I am sure of it.  

I spent part of Sunday in a park, snapping pictures of trees and new spring blossoms. Intent upon capturing close-up shots of early dogwoods, I didn't give much thought to what might be above me.  Until I heard the sound of distant laughter. 



Turning to look up, I saw the wind. 

"Bless the Lord,O my soul!  O Lord my God, you are very great! ....who makes the clouds your chariot, who rides on the wings of the wind...."  (Psalm 104:1 & 3) 

(photo N Shuman, 25 March 2012)

The Microscope of Faith

Currently I am engaged in another “breadbox excavation” ... that is:  I’m rummaging through old letters and journal entries.  I just came across this written in 1992:

How hard it is to see things from our tiny perspective!  We peer and strain and turn every which way to make sense of it all.  Perhaps that's when the microscope of faith comes in so handy. 

Through the “microscope of faith,” we’re able to see things we could not otherwise detect.  We don't see God or angels or the Kingdom of heaven with our naked eyes.  Yet they are real, just as surely (and even MORE surely) than are tiny one celled creatures.  We believe in bacteria and viruses, even though no one ever saw them before magnification. 

We can believe in God, too, but not without the magnification of the gift of faith.  It is through this that we see things as they really are.     

"Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror; then, we shall see face to face.   My knowledge is imperfect now; then I shall know even as I am known."  (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Trusting the Connection

From the breadbox, 1997:

My dear friend,

I was struck by your saying that you awake crying out 'I want to love you, God.'  What a heart-cry, and all the more powerful in aridity.

When I'm in spiritual aridity, I sometimes feel as though the 'phone lines' have all suddenly fallen silent and I feel disconnected.  Have you ever been speaking with someone on the phone when there's a problem and you can hear the other person perfectly but they can't hear you at all?  I think aridity in prayer is a bit like this, only we are the ones who cannot hear the other Person - God, in this case.  

I feel sometimes as though I am talking, praying, continually pleading 'hello?  Is anyone there?  Did You hang up...?'  And there seems to be no 'response.'  No sense of anyone being there at all.  Like all the lines have gone dead, or have been cut.  

Faith, I guess, is when we stay on the line even though we have no perception that He IS on the other end.  We stay connected nonetheless; we stay connected through the lines of faith.  Sometimes we plead for some sign, sometimes we put down the 'phone' to distract ourselves with something else for awhile.  But always we come back to speak again and say 'I trust that You are there!  I shall proceed as if I were deeply aware of Your presence, a presence I cannot at this moment perceive.'

 He is there.  He hears me, and He hears you, and I pray that when our faith again comes into the 'light,' we will find that there has been much, much growth in all our seasons of dark.
                                                                                                                  Nancy
(public domain photo)

The power of His Name

"Nothing restrains anger, curbs pride, heals the wound of malice, bridles self-indulgence, quenches the passions, checks avarice and puts unclean thoughts to flight as does the Name of Jesus."  (St. Bernard of Clairvaux)

"The more rain falls on the earth, the softer it makes it.  Similarly, Christs holy name gladdens the earth of our heart the more we call upon it."  (St. Hesychois)

"No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except in the Holy Spirit."  (1 Corinthians 12:3)

from a homeschooled grandmother

As a homeschooled grandmother, I graciously accept all the privileges to which my age and position entitle me, and I'm grateful for this time to settle back and learn.

I watch a two year old thoroughly enjoy a room filled with toys... until I set up safety-boundaries.  Suddenly it dawns on her that  she's not supposed to cross these, and then they become all she can think about.  I remember that God watches as I test the edges of His will.  I realize He knows more about what dangers are "out there and down the road" than I do. I think of the garden of Eden...

and thus I've had a lesson on "why there are commandments."

I see a day bursting with spring. Tossing aside thoughts of  any "trouble" I might have to go to to do this, I grab the bubble-blowing toys and say "let's go outside!"  I settle into a lawn chair and watch a preschooler blow, chase, laugh, pop.. blow, chase, laugh, pop.  I notice early buds on trees, daffodil splotches of yellow against green; I hear the nearby cooing of a dove... 

and thus I've had a lesson in wonder.   

I observe the tenderness with which a five year old helps her toddler sister.  "Here's how you wrap your baby...you can have this dolly.... this is how we rock them, see?"  And the all important piece of advice:  "if you're the Mommy, you aren't supposed to have a binky in your mouth!!!"...

..and thus I've had a lesson in love.

"You can do nothing with children unless you win their confidence by ... breaking through all the hindrances that keep them at a distance."   (St. John Bosco)

"What was wonderful about childhood is that anything in it was a wonder.   It was not merely a world full of miracles; it was a miraculous world."  (G.K. Chesterton)

"Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God as a child will not enter into it."  (Luke 18:17)

like the sound of a great amen

"Exult, you just, in the Lord ... sing to Him a new song; pluck the strings skillfully, with shouts of gladness.."  (Psalm 33:1 & 3) 

I read this scripture with a sigh.  Loving to sing, I can't carry a tune in the proverbial bucket. Alhough I savor the sounds of harpsichords and pianos and cellos and harps, I myself am no plucker of strings. 

Even with no musical talent, however, I find singing to be a path into prayer.  I like to pray with psalms, using the words as a springboard to my own conversations with God.  "I will extol you." I read in Psalm 145... and so I do.  I begin to thank Him for His goodness and kindness and mercy (this can go on for some time before I turn again to what I'm reading).  And when I feel pretty sure no one is within hearing distance, I just might burst into song.  Sometimes using a tune I know, sometimes making up my own, I sing to God of His wonders.  I set thanksgivings and praises to music; I may even bring intercession into the song.  It somehow opens my heart to do this, and helps unlock the door to conversation with God. 

The psalms are a springboard into prayer for me.  And music, even if I keep my singing "on the inside," is my personal amen. 

"I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then,
But I struck one chord of music
Like the sound of a great Amen."  (A. Proctor)

A Thousand Dimensions

I fell in love with the sea when I was seventeen.  Never mind that I'd never laid eyes on it.  Never mind that I was growing up in a landlocked American state, far from salty breezes.  I imagined crashing waves and windswept dunes and oh, such a wonderful smell!  

The first time I saw the ocean, that day when I was hit with the full impact of sounds and scents and gusts of wind for which I had only been partially prepared, I knew I'd had no way beforehand of picturing the scene spread out in three dimensions before me.  The constant roll of waves, that overpowering ROAR, the feel of feet being sucked down into wet sand.  Even though I'd dreamed of it and actually in some way loved it, there was no way I could have envisioned the totality of it all.  

Everything I'd imagined about the sea was true.  The only shock was in discovering how much MORE there was to it.  The three-dimensionality of it.  The engagement of senses I'd never thought would be called into service. 

Sometimes I compare my love of the sea to love of God.  Never having seen Him, I love Him.  I have true ideas of Him, and through His grace I can actually know Him.  Yet there is no way I can know Him in His fullness until I see Him face to face.  I cannot even envision such Totality, and I suspect such vision would overwhelm a human still in the flesh. 

Will there be, in eternity, sounds beyond anything we've ever heard here?  Colors not detectable to eyes of flesh?  A thousand dimensions spread before us, in every taste and shade, in every tone and depth, in every texture of Love.... ?

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love Him."  (1 Corinthians 2:9)

so that I may carry out....

"Most high,
glorious God,
enlighten the darkness of my heart
and give me, Lord,
a correct faith,
a certain hope, 
a perfect charity, 
sense and knowledge,
so that I may carry out Your holy and true command."  

(St. Francis of Assisi's Prayer before a Crucifix)