To Give Clear Witness

'Enclosed nuns are called to give clear witness 

that man belongs entirely to God, 

and so to keep green among the human family 

the desire for a heavenly home.' 

Poor Clare Constitutions, quoted in 'Walls Around the World', p.14.  Click here for link.

A Bell and an Open Vein

One facet of monastic life that looks greener on the other side of the fence (to me) is the call to prayer.  The bell rings, it's prayer time, and there's no putting it off.  No opening a newspaper, no checking the morning news, no doing 'just this one thing' before settling down to pray.

I don't know about you, but if I do just one thing before giving God a few minutes, all too often one thing turns into ten, and before I know it, 'things' have crowded out prayer altogether.  Again.

Of course, there are important reasons why some of us need to squeeze prayer into a 'To-Go-Box' from the minute we get out of bed.  Babies need feeding, we're late for work, kids need to be gotten off to school... but these are not the things that take up my personal time, not anymore.  Even when I have a busy day ahead, I can usually grab at least a few minutes to NOT turn on morning news and NOT check e-mail and to instead give that little chunk of time to God.  But do I?  

I will just say this:  it's a struggle.

Sometimes I long for the discipline of a bell.  I long for the accountability of those who will notice if I'm not in my choir stall.  Oh, I know my mind might wander if I were in fact standing there, breviary open before me and my mind still half asleep.  But at least I'd BE there.  I would be praising God, and giving Him a chance to whisper...  something... to my sleepy heart.

I often compare the first prayer of morning to a time when I received an i.v.  During preparation for the birth of my second child, I was given an i.v. of saline.  Asking why this was necessary, I was told that it was in case I needed medication administered quickly at any time during the birth.  The doctor wanted to have an open vein, ready to receive help on a moment's notice.

Years later, the memory of that came back to me as I pondered the grace of morning prayer.  If I pray, even briefly, early in the morning, I am in effect opening the vein.  Once I've begun conversation with God, prayers on-the-go are somehow easier throughout the day.  I believe inspirations from God are more easily 'heard' as well.

Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will proclaim your praise.  

"Live on in Me, as I do in you.  No more than a branch can bear fruit of itself apart from the vine can you bear fruit apart from Me.  I am the Vine, you are the branches.  He who lives in me, and I in him, will produce abundantly, for apart from Me you can do nothing."  (John 15:4-5) 

Text not in quotes © 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org      

(this is a slightly edited re-post from our archives) 

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Maintaining the Fire

'During the day
make frequent offerings of yourself to God...
by saying:  here I am Lord,
do with me what You please.
Tell me what You wish me to do for You,
and I will do it all.

Repeat, as often as you can, acts of love for God.

St. Teresa used to say that acts of love
are like wood maintaining the fire
of divine love kindled in our hearts..

If you fall into some sin,
humble yourself at once
and rise again with a more fervent act of love.


When something you do not want
happens to you, offer it to God immediately
by an act of conformity with His holy will...

Acquire the habit of always
repeating in adverse circumstances the words:
such is God's will and such also is mine.'

St.  Alphonsus de Liguori


 

Painting of St. Catherine: Giovanni Dall'Orto
Painting of laundress: Désiré François Laugée

My Habit

Over the years, I've heard numerous discussions about habits.  Speaking as a layperson who has never had the opportunity to wear one, I offer my humble perspective.  Which is:  I personally find a habit to be a striking witness.  

It seems an external thing, and of course it is.  But a habit speaks volumes to the world around.  And I wonder: could it even speak to those who wear it day after day?  After all, we humans are affected by symbols, probably at levels beyond mere words.

What does a habit say to me when I see it?  "I have found God to be worth the gift of my whole life," it tells me. "Nothing on earth is as important as He."

I think back to once when I'd been visiting a convent.  I was escorted to the street by a Sister wearing the same graceful habit her foundress wore in the 1600s.  As I got into my car, a gentleman passed by on the sidewalk and saw Sister across the fence.  He spoke to her, then stopped to talk.  Sister graciously stood to chat with this man (someone she had apparently never met), and as I left I heard the man say he was a former Catholic.  This gentleman seemed to be launching into a particularly important discussion - perhaps one which would affect him long after he walked on. Yet the meeting would have not taken place had this woman not been clearly identifiable as “Sister.” 

As a cloistered heart, I wear - and speak - the language of habits.  We've talked of this before in these pages.  To see our original post on this, click here.

In the meantime, today I'm checking on the condition of my habits.  

Am I in the habit of responding to persons and situations with love, kindness, generosity?  
Am I in the habit of carrying the love of Christ to everyone I meet?  Am I in the habit of spending time with God in prayer?  

May I be clothed, and seen, in the habits of a cloistered heart.  

"You must lay aside your former way of life, and the old self which deteriorates through illusion and desire, and acquire a fresh, spiritual way of thinking. You must put on that new man created in God’s image, whose justice and holiness are born of truth.” (Ephesians 4:22-24).
 

"Because you are God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with heartfelt mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.  Bear with one another, forgive whatever grievances you have against one another.  Forgive as the Lord has forgiven you.  Over all these virtues put on love, which binds the rest together and makes them perfect."  (Colossians 3:12-14) 
 
“Do you see how little it takes to become a saint?  All that is necessary is acquiring the habit of wanting to do the will of God at all times.” (St. Vincent de Paul)

“Clothe me, O eternal Truth, clothe me with yourself, that I may run my mortal course with true obedience and the light of holy faith…” (St. Catherine of Siena)

“I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation, and wrapped me in a mantle of justice.” (Isaiah 61:10)

"You must put on the armor of God if you are to resist on the evil day; do all that your duty requires, and hold your ground.   Stand fast, with the truth as the belt around your waist, justice as your breastplate, and zeal to propagate the gospel of peace as your footgear.  In all circumstances, hold  faith up before you as your shield, it will help you extinguish the fiery darts of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, the word of God."  (Ephesians 6:13-17)
 
Painting of nun with roses:  Herbert James Draper, US public domain

Painting of family:  James Tissot, US public domain

This is a re-post from our archives, slightly edited
Text not in quotes is © 2014 Nancy Shuman   thecloisteredheart.org  All Rights Reserved

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz  

My Bells

A monastery bell is ironically consistent about one thing.  It always calls for change.  Time to stop one activity and begin another.  The sections of a monastic day are spoken into being by the bells.   

Part of me hungers for such bells.  I find myself craving the insistent rhythms of their voices.  Predictable, familiar, reliable, steady bells that would insure my prayer and rest; bells that would regulate and balance the pieces of my life. 

"Just as soon as we are familiar with one set of daily bells ringing," wrote one of you in the Parlor, "another set replaces them."  

Don't we know the truth of this.  Seasons come and go, bringing school bells and wake-up alarms, church bells and wedding bells, baby cries and phones and stovetop buzzers.  They change with every passing year.

Predictable, familiar, reliable, steady?  Not really.  Out here in the midst of the world, it's not that way.

Bells of "things that must be done" ring out; day by day and year by year they ring.   

They change.  Consistently, they change.  

To answer the legitimate call of God, I must hear, and I must respond.  I am called to do as God asks, in every season of my life.  

Another friend commenting in the "Parlor" had this to say awhile ago:  "If it's 9:00 and I want to pray the mid-morning prayer and as soon as I sit down my daughter needs me for something, then it's God's will that I not pray at that time or stop praying when half finished or whatever.  I may want/need that time because I crave the peace and rest or I desire to worship God.  However, God may want my obedience to my vocation as a wife and mom right now over my prayer.   I figure that if I'm able to pray certain hours of the day, then that's what God wants.   If my family needs me for something else at that time, then that's what I'm supposed to be doing.  I don't try to make up for it or squeeze it in later.   I just move on and try again at the next scheduled prayer time...."

These are words from one who has learned to live in harmony with the bells.   

(Portions of this post were taken from our archives)

Text not in quotes © 2014 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org      

Painting of bell:  Bernhard Stange Das Abendläuten, in US public domain due to age

Painting of family:  Von Bornin perhe 



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My Vast Dwelling

"The novice promises not just to obey orders but to 'live IN obedience.'  The phrase has a splendid ring to it, as though she were throwing up imposing castle walls around her whole life.  And that is precisely what she does.  She makes her whole future existence a kind of vast dwelling place through which she can walk in perfect security always." (Mother Mary Francis PCC, A Right to be Merry, 1956 edition, p. 99.  (This book is now published by Ignatius Press)

In the analogy of "the cloistered heart," I am invited to live within the boundaries of God's will as these are clearly defined for me in Scripture and in 2,000 years of authentic Church discernment.  I might find myself worrying that such boundaries will sap all joy and pleasure from my life.

The saints tell me otherwise. 

"Always remain quiet and calm in the shelter of God's will, under the mighty protection of the Most High."  (St. Paul of the Cross)

"Freed from the heavy burden of my own will, I may breathe freely under the light load of love…”  (St. Bernard of Clairvaux)

“The height of loving ecstasy is when our will rests not in its own contentment, but in God’s will.” (St. Francis de Sales)

Painting:  Edmund Blair Leighton, The Roses' Day, in US public domain due to copyright expiration

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No Exterior Hindrance

What a find.  In only three minutes, we can see "The Cloistered Heart" in living, moving color.. and right where we live it.

If you only look at one thing to find out what is meant by a "cloistered heart," I suggest that this video be that one thing. 

We do not (usually) sing outwardly as we go through the world.

But what is happening in our hearts?

"No exterior thing hinders my union with God."  (St. Faustina)

"How happy you will be if in the midst of the world you keep Jesus Christ in your heart!"  (St. Francis de Sales) 










"Always remember… to retire at various times into the solitude of your own heart even while outwardly engaged in discussions or transactions with others.  This mental solitude cannot be violated by the many people who surround you since they are not standing around your heart but only around your body.  Your heart remains alone in the presence of God.” (St. Francis de Sales)  

"May nothing distract me from You, neither noise nor diversions. O my Master, I would so love to live with You in silence. But what I love above all is to do Your will, and since You want me still to remain in the world, I submit with all my heart for love of You." (Elizabeth of the Trinity) 

My Cell

"Work for souls is accomplished, for the most part, in silence.  Its efficiency does not depend upon occupation, position or popularity.  From a humble cell, hidden away in some cloistered nunnery, there radiates spiritual power which influences thousands of souls scattered over the entire world." (from Sheltering the Divine Outcast by A Religious, Peter Reilly Co., Philadelphia, 1952, p. 56)

St. Catherine of Siena, who did not live in a monastery, “formed a cell in her own heart and there she remained continually united with God even when busiest, contemplating Him and speaking familiarly with Him.  Thus she attained to a stable, uninterrupted union with her Lord.” (Spiritual Diary, Daughters of St. Paul, 1990).

"Whenever you pray, go to your room, close your door, and pray to your Father in private…” (Matthew 6:6) 

"Brother Body is our cell, and our soul is the hermit living indoors in the cell, in order to pray to God and meditate on him.” (St. Francis of Assisi) 

"I offer You the cell of my heart; may it be Your little Bethany. Come rest there…”  (Elizabeth of the Trinity)

"Our Lord frequently told me that I should keep a secluded place for Him in my heart, where He would teach me to love Him."  (St. Margaret Mary)

"I set up a little cell in my heart, where I always kept company with Jesus."  (St. Faustina)

"Within yourself you have made a room... a secluded place.  You have built it by prayer…. You live in the marketplace and carry the poustinia within you.  That is your vocation… The Lord is calling us to stand still before him while walking with men.” (Catherine de Hueck Doherty, Poustinia, Ave Maria Press, 1975)

"May the God who is all love be your unchanging dwelling place, your cell, and your cloister in the midst of the world.” (Elizabeth of the Trinity)

"Christ is held by the mind knowing Him and the heart loving Him...  what is this room except the inner secret of your own person?  Keep this inner room clean, so that when it is pure, unstained by sin, your spiritual home may stand as a priestly temple with the Holy Spirit dwelling in it.  One who seeks and entreats Christ is never abandoned, but visited by Him frequently, for He stays always with us."  (St. Ambrose)

Painting of nun:  Luigi Busi, In Contemplazione

Painting of woman in bedroom:  Moritz von Schwind, Early Morning

Painting of city street:  Arntzenius Spuistraat   

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A Devout Life in the World

'Almost all those who have written hitherto about devotion have been concerned with instructing persons wholly withdrawn from the world, or have at least taught a kind of devotion that leads to such complete retirement.

'My purpose is to instruct those who live in town, within families, or at court, and by their state of life are obliged to live an ordinary life as to outward appearances.'

'A strong, resolute soul can live in the world without being affected by any of its moods, find springs of piety amid its salty waves, and fly through the flames of earthly lusts without burning the wings of its holy desires for a devout life.  True, this is a difficult task, and therefore I wish that many souls would strive to accomplish it with greater ardor than has hitherto been shown.'

St. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, Image Books, 1989

 

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Painting of nuns:  Convent of the Sacred Heart in Rome

Painting of woman:  Poynter, A Daydream 

A Personal Relationship with Christ?

When we are talking about monastic life, the importance of Our Lord Jesus Christ cannot be overstated.  With this in mind, I've been planning a post (using quotes from various saints) on the fact that we can know and love Jesus personally. 

"The monk is the man for whom God is a Person," writes Louis Bouyer; "a Person whom he can meet, whom he longs to meet...."  (The Meaning of the Monastic Life, PJ Kenedy, 1950)

I love it when the Holy Spirit inspires more than one individual, at the same time, to do the very same thing.  He was at work in the same way, at the same time, in the heart of Renee Lin.  

As she put it so well in one of her comments, it was just a matter of calling the right witnesses. Which she has done, indeed.

Can Catholics have a personal relationship with Christ?  

I invite you to click over to Renee's blog Forget the Roads, to see what the witnesses have to say.

Painting:  San Luigi Gonzaga, Love for the Word

The Centre of Our Hearts

click for photo attribution

"Do you realize that Jesus is there in the tabernacle expressly for you, for you alone?  He burns with the desire to come into your heart."  (St. Therese of Lisieux)

"The Tabernacle is a reminder of Christ's life in us and of our surrender to Him.  We, too, are the Living Tabernacle of Jesus, a reminder, also, that our life is not governed by appearances and impressions, but by faith in the invisible Reality.  He is there as the ever-flowing Source of Grace, as our Invisible Director and Helper.  Being the living Centre of our life, He must become the Centre of our hearts and minds, the Centre to Which we are directed and from which we judge all our problems, as well as the world's."  (The Living Pyx of Jesus, Pelligrini, Australia, 1941, p. 19)

What is the hub of a monastic building?  The chapel.  The Tabernacle.  The Blessed Sacrament.

Why?  Because Jesus is the absolute Center of monastic life.

It is simple.  And knowing this simple truth, we begin to understand monasticism.  

Pondering it in prayer, we begin to understand monasticism of the heart.

'You know, my loving Jesus, I do want my soul to be spotlessly pure and undefiled, so that it will be for You a most beautiful Home, a Home from which no one will ever dislodge You - Your own living tabernacle, where You will ever dwell, and where I shall live consciously and lovingly with You, and always have a word with You before I speak, act, or make a decision.  I want You to be so happy, so much at home in my soul, that You will take complete possession of it and live Your life in me.'(from Fervorinos From Galilee's Hills, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, 1936, p.143)

'To be with God it is not necessary to be always in church.  We may make a chapel of our heart, whereto to escape from time to time to talk with Him quietly, humbly and lovingly.... Begin then; perhaps He is waiting for a single generous resolution.'  (Brother Lawrence)



Painting of woman:  Tarbell, The Bleu Veil, in US public domain due to age

Amid Storms and Rainbows

I gave given myself to God as much as I could; in effect, I've signed over to Him all that concerns me.

How beautiful is His welcome, His acceptance, His love!  But what happens (I can't help but ask it) when trials come along?

I choose in advance, by a sheer act of my will, to place my trust in Jesus.  I might be swallowing a lump as I do so, but today I make my choice.

I choose to make my own this prayer of St. Faustina...

"I know that I am under Your special gaze, O Lord.  I do not examine with fear Your plans regarding me; my task is to accept everything from Your hand.  I do not fear anything, although the storm is raging, and frightful bolts strike all around me, and I then feel quite alone.  Yet my heart senses You, and my trust grows, and I see all Your omnipotence which upholds me.  With You, Jesus, I go through life, amid storms and rainbows, with a cry of joy, singing the song of Your mercy.  I will not stop singing my song of love until the choir of angels picks it up."




Painting:  Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Gotische Kirche auf einem Felsen am Meer, 1815, detail

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A Framework of Gifts

"All things in this world
are created 
out of God's love, 
and they become 
a framework of gifts, 
offered to us 
so that we can know God 
more easily 
and make a return 
of love 
more readily." 

St. Ignatius Loyola













Painting:  Jules Cyrille Cave, The Flower Girl, 1897



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The Welcome Continues......

His welcome continues.

I have given my heart to my Lord, Jesus Christ.  I've made the decision to step into His will, to seek Him, to live for Him as fully as I can. But I am not the only one in action here.

His welcome continues... 

"Ah, you are beautiful, My beloved.  Ah, you are beautiful!  Your eyes are doves...."  (Song of Songs 1:15)

"As a lily among thorns, is My beloved among women.  (Song of Songs
2:2)

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you.  I have called you by name; you are Mine."  (Isaiah 43:1)



















Paintings are all in US public domain 
due to age and copyright expiration

I am Welcomed!

I step over the threshold into God's will and the welcome is immediate.  Perhaps all of heaven bursts forth in celebration.  Whether or not I feel any different, the truth is that I am met with great love.  

"Suddenly, when I had consented to the sacrifice with all my heart and all my will, God’s presence pervaded me… I felt that His Majesty was enveloping me…. I saw that God was well pleased with me and, reciprocally, my spirit drowned itself in Him... And the Lord said to me, ‘You are the delight of My Heart; from today on, every one of your acts, even the very smallest, will be a delight to My eyes...'  My earthly body was the same, but my soul was different; God was now living in it with the totality of His delight.  This is not a feeling, but a conscious reality that nothing can obscure.”  (St. Faustina, Diary)

God will not be outdone in generosity.  If I've taken even one step toward Him (no matter how timid the step, no matter how faltering), I can be sure that He is reaching out to receive me.  I am enfolded, encompassed, and totally embraced by Love. 

"I know well the plans I have for you, says the Lord; plans for your welfare, not for woe!  Plans to give you a future full of hope.”  (Jeremiah 29:11) 

For a look at a real postulant's first moments of entering the cloister, click this line!

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One Deciding Step

As has surely become obvious over these last few days, I sometimes imagine myself before a cloister door.  

I have pictured this for years, actually, for the mental image of it helps me see the life to which I am called.  In the analogy of the cloistered heart, the will of God is my enclosure... a reality before which (when faced with its possible implications) I am tempted to draw back, waver, second-guess.

I have no reservations when God's will and mine are precisely the same.  But at some point(s), my will and God's are going to conflict.  I know this; in my heart I know this.  What happens then? 

“Live in My will,” God tells me.  “Live in My will when you understand it and when you do not.  Trust ME."  In the face of such an invitation, I have a choice to make.

I like to remember that a person entering physically cloistered life does not stick her head in today and leave her arms and legs dangling outside.  She is either in or she’s not.  And yet I can give myself mostly to God and leave parts of my life dangling outside that surrender.  

Making the decision to embrace the will of God is not a once-for-all-time-thing, of course.  I re-decide, circumstance by circumstance.  But there is something about at least making my choice of God's will specific.  One deciding step.  I have found that grace comes with making this decision.  I tell God I want to live according to His will… and then in circumstance after circumstance, I find that His grace abounds.

So yes, I imagine myself standing before an enclosure door.  I consider.  I vacillate.  I want a print-out of all that will be asked of me before I give my “yes.”  I’m trembling, halting, looking back, shuffling, straining.  Then, timidly, I stick one toe forward…

…and it’s as if He suddenly, tenderly, picks me up and carries the rest of me inside.  Even those dangling arms and legs.

"Take, Lord, all my liberty.  Receive my memory, my understanding, my entire will.  
Whatever I have and possess, you have given me; to You I restore it wholly,
and to Your will I utterly surrender it for my direction. 
Give me the love of You only, with Your grace,
and I am rich enough; nor do I ask anything besides."  (St.Ignatius Loyola)




"I am the Gate. Whoever enters through Me WILL BE SAFE.” (Jesus, quoted in John 10:9) 

Text © 2014 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org   

You are invited to leave comments in The Parlor  

 Painting: Edelfelt, At the Door, 1901, in US public domain

Farewell to the Follies

I knock at the door.  My hand trembles.  I am afraid no one will answer.

I am afraid someone will.

The walk toward the monastery was longer than I'd expected.  I would love to be welcomed with a cup of tea and a gold-edged plate of chocolates.  I feel entitled to a bit of pampering, a little reward for making it this far.  But here, it will not be that way.  

An extern Sister opens the door and ushers me into the foyer.  It is a small room, its floorboards gleaming with a warm patina.  I feel embraced by the hush of it.  Just ahead of me is another door, a tall, unadorned one made of brown wood.  I know that this is the door to the enclosure.

Sister points toward it and asks me, "are you ready?" 

"It may turn out that this change in your way of life will cause you many problems.  You have bid a great, general farewell to the world's follies and vanities, and this may bring on a feeling of sadness and discouragement.  If this should be the case, have a little patience, I beg of you, for it will come to nothing.  Things will seem a little strange because they are new, but when such feelings pass you will receive countless blessings."  (St. Francis de Sales)

"Ah, my Lord!  Your help is necessary here; without it, one can do nothing.  In Your mercy do not consent this soul to suffer deception and give up what it has begun."  (St. Teresa of Avila)

Sister smiles at me.  Her face shows no urgency.   She is simply asking.  "Are you ready?"

I do not know. 








Text © 2014 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org   

You are invited to leave comments in The Parlor

Painting:  Alfred Stevens, Hesitation, detail

A Determined Turnabout

Yesterday's mental ramble was, of course, an imaginative exercise.  Having never entered religious life, I haven't experienced a potential nun's journey toward a cloistered world.

But oh, I have daydreamed it.  Not in the sense of dreaming with desire, and not exactly daydreaming with dread, but with a sense of wondering.  How would it feel, I've asked myself, to make a serious, determined decision to leave the world and enter a life where I live totally for Christ.  Not just partly, not mostly, but totally.  Fully embracing His will with no compromise, no watering down what He asks of me; "yes" with no ifs, no ands, no buts.  Entering the world of His will, and turning my back on all that tries to lure me away from Him.

"Most people cannot leave the world in a bodily sense, but every follower of Christ who is serious about genuine growth must leave the spirit of the world."  (Thomas Dubay SM, Fire Within, Ignatius Press, 1989, p. 81)

Am I serious about genuine growth?  I ask it of myself.  Immediately, I know my answer.  The desire to move beyond ho-hum Christianity is what inspires my life as a cloistered heart.

The desire to "move beyond" drives me onward, yet a large part of me wants to dig in my heels and stay right where I am.  I'm not so bad, I tell myself.  I pray and receive the Sacraments and try to be nice.

Thankfully, there is more to a Godly life than that.

"One cannot give Christ a limited place in one's life," writes Louis Bouyer of the Oratory (The Meaning of the Monastic Life, PJ Kenedy and Sons, NY, 1950,  p. x)   And that is the crux of it, for me.  I am not content to be a "just in case" Christian.  I don't want to simply follow the rules and try to avoid mortal sin just in case God is real (by His grace, I'm convinced that He is).   I'm not satisfied to throw some prayers in His direction now and then and call that a life of faith.

The truth is:  I'm engaged in much more than an imaginary exercise.

I AM serious about genuine growth.  I AM on a real, vital, narrow path to union with God. "The main business of the beginner, therefore, is to make a determined turnabout from preoccupation with this worldly world to a life centered in the Trinity."  (Dubay, p. 82)

The world beckons.  I live in it, and I can be joyful as I do so, for this is where God calls me to serve Him.  But preoccupation with the world?  It is from this that I must turn.

I don't turn, however, for the mere sake of turning.  I do not leave the "worldly world" and march forward in pursuit of nothing.  I go along that narrow path - "to a life centered in the Trinity."

The Father, Son and Holy Spirit wait for me.

Text © 2014 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org   

Painting:  Pietro Fragiacomo, Tristezza 

Toward the Cloister Door

For years I have imagined the scene.  I see myself right in it, firmly planted, almost as if frozen in time.

Here I am, ready to place my foot on a path leading to the monastery.  It's a winding path, quite narrow, and I don't step onto it right away.  I stop.  I consider.  I pause.  The way is open before me, nothing blocks it.  Once I reach the heavy, ancient door, I won't even have to open it.  All I'll have to do is knock.  

I hesitate.  I stand.  I am alone, looking at the silent gray building just up the hill.  A chill wind stings my face.  

I took one last look at myself before catching the bus here:  one last glance, for I know there are no mirrors in cloisters.  My face looked good (may the saints forgive me), although a bit pinched.  I dabbed concealer over this morning's undereye circles.  My dress is midi-length, modest.  Over it is a long wool coat, its collar turned up.  Just the right touch of sophistication, a concession to my almost-former self.  

I had been told what to bring, a few garments I'll need as a postulant.  Now I stand, ready to set foot onto this narrow, unpaved pathway.   Inside, the Sisters await me.  Outside, here I stand.  

The stiletto shoes, my highest ever, may not have been a good idea.  I liked their steady click click across pavement, the very sound boosting my confidence.  But here (I realize), there will be no sound.  The ground is damp and soggy on the grassless path ahead. 

I step onto the pinstripe of mud.  Immediately, a pencil thin heel stabs into the ground.  I take another step, and shoe number two meets the same fate.  I am suddenly anchored in a place of perpetual indecision.  Forever on the path, ready to make the journey but unable to let go of all that holds me to the earth. 

"St. Teresa's starting point," writes Father Thomas Dubay about Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle,  "is the absolutely basic condition for a serious prayer life: an earnest, continuing effort to rid oneself of sins, imperfections and attachments."  (Fire Within, Ignatius, 1989, p. 81)

These shoes were, in my opinion, gorgeous. I paid way too much for them, but oh, they have served me well.  They've carried me into business meetings, boosting my height and self-confidence.  They have taken me dancing, showing off my balance and unexpected grace.  They have served ME well.

I am attached to the shoes; of course I am.  They're a symbol of what I've achieved in the world.  They represent (suddenly) all I'll be giving up if I step onto this narrow, sloppy path.  I stand for just a moment, listening to a train rumbling in the distance.  I could go back now and there would be no shame in the turning.

I step out of first one shoe, then the other.  I lean down and pluck them from the ground.

I make my way, barefoot, toward the cloister door.    

Text © 2014 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org   

You are invited to leave comments in The Parlor 

Painting:  Johnson Coombe Abbey

The Life Inside

"The monastery is the house of God... the monk is a witness to God... an athlete, a slave in the service of his divine Master, a soldier fighting for the heavenly King, a pilgrim journeying towards the heavenly Jerusalem" (Daniel Rees, Consider Your Call, Cistercian Publications, Kalamazoo, 1980, p. 100)

Taking another look at what it means to be a cloistered heart, I begin with the monastery.  I always imagine a building tucked away in the woods, perhaps on a hill, just glimpsed (by me) through a little stand of trees....

The life inside is one of prayer and living within the will of God.  People who enter there - and who remain - are dead serious.  They aren't playing games.  They are not settling for halfway commitments and compromised yeses.  They don't dabble in prayer now and then, when they need something or when they feel a touch of consolation, shooting up a Hail Mary between their favorite TV shows and a trip to the mall. They pray throughout the day and in the night.  They eat, sleep, dress, work, play, sing, read, serve, breathe for Christ.

But wait.  What, if anything, does this have to do with me?  My call is to live in the midst of the world.

If I'm serious about living for God, I think this has a lot to do with me.  I believe monastic totality has a great deal to teach all of us as we serve Our Lord in our families, homes, parishes, neighborhoods, workplaces - day after day.  

And so, again with the help of writers who have known monastic life from the inside, we begin to take another look....

"It is true that only a few of Christ's followers are called to be monks and nuns, but their way of life is no more and no less than an attempt to live out their Christianity in all its implications.  All Christians are called to holiness.... There are many ways of following this call, but, insofar as we all hear and try to respond to it, we shall find that we have a good deal of experience in common."  (Rees, p. xi)

"Every Christian must seek to follow Christ in obedience to the will of the Father, must pray, exercise faith and hope and love, make use of the sacraments, and live in the Spirit.  Neither in the end nor in these primary means is the monk essentially different from any other Christian.... " (Rees, p. 4)

"'When you pray, go to your room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret.'  These words of Our Lord mean that you must enter yourself and make a sanctuary there; the secret place is the human heart....at this level, where man knows how to be silent, there prayer is found.  Here he is mysteriously visited."  (Catherine de Hueck Doherty, Poustinia, Ave Maria Press, 1975, p. 74)

"I am a temple of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  They come to me.  The Lord said that He and His Father would come and make their dwelling with me....  Why should my heart be removed from God

when I am talking with you?  When you are in love with someone, it seems that the face of the Beloved is before you when you drive, when you type, when you are taking out insurance, and so on.  Somehow or other we can encompass these two realities, the face of the Beloved and whatever we happen to be doing.  My friends, prayer is like that."  (Doherty p. 75)

My friends, prayer is like that.

I pray that we will each be "mysteriously visited" by our Lord, Jesus Christ. 


Text not in quotes © 2014 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org  


 You are invited to leave comments in The Parlor