To Die Of Joy

Today I came across a letter I'd received, years ago, from a priest who lived on a continent far away. As someone with a worldwide ministry, largely to underdeveloped countries and in a few lands not tolerant of Christianity, this man had witnessed trials I could only imagine.

Father wrote:  'I have been wondering whether the battle rages around the Mass. It does, for the Mass is Christ and He is the focus of hostility. What can we do? Well, love and live our Mass, even when it is not so readily accessible. We can give witness to our great desire and longing for the Mass, as Christians have in all times of persecution. We know the Mass endures and survives. The testimony of persecutions and martyrs confirms this. But like those Christians, we may have to suffer loss and sacrifice for and in our Mass...' 

I read this now and ask myself:  how often do I take the gift of Mass for granted? Do I look at it as the profound grace it is - or has it become, for me, simply routine?

Do I focus so much on a church interior I do not like and a style of music I do not like that I forget that Jesus Himself is right there in front of me at the Consecration?

When the homily is more about the local football team than about God, do I grit my teeth and sit in judgement - or do I silently pray for God's word to be spoken and heard?

Do I make every attempt to pray from my heart?

Do I thank God for the opportunity to be at Mass, and do I ever pray for those who are thoroughly aching to have such a privilege?

I look at these questions and find my responses to them (if I'm honest) sobering. 

What a grace it would be to, as St. Jean Vianney prayed, really understand the Mass. Even if only for an instant.

I would gladly risk dying of joy.

A Thank You Note

Some years ago, I wrote the words below to a community of cloistered nuns. I was writing in thanksgiving for the Sisters' apostolate that had, over a number of years, been a steady beacon of God's love in my life.

Someone brought this letter to my attention again today, and it occurred to me: 

there may be someone in a cloister reading this very post. There might also be active Religious, or priests, whose entire lives are being used for the glory of God and the service of His people. If you happen to be one of those, I want to thank YOU for your prayer, your service, your constant witness to the love of Christ.

You will probably never know, this side of Heaven, how many lives you touch.
 
'It is good to be able to share with one another our commitment to God's will. My vocation as a laywoman committed to living Jesus in the world is strengthened by your vocation to live Jesus in the cloister. And this is the way it's supposed to work, of course. For in the body of Christ, some are hands, some are feet....'

Thank you.

Painting by Fra Angelico

TheCloisteredHeart.org

Symptoms of the Happy Affliction

I never expected to be writing another blog post today.  Yet after having trouble (again) with comments on here, I received a message from a friend.   

'I am curious as to how your other readers do this in their own lives as well,' she said.

Very simple.  Just one line.  And I began thinking....

I have letter excerpts from readers, dating back to 1993.   Obviously not blog readers, but people who wrote on paper they folded and put in envelopes and dropped in mailboxes.

Imagine doing such a thing!  They were letting me know they identified with the idea of the Cloistered Heart that I had just written of in an article. 

In the late 1990s, I obtained permission from some of these people to use a few of their writings in a little booklet, now long out of print.  Since those particular permissions still stand, I think it might be of help to us, and certainly to me (who's always in need of a 'refresher') to share some of these over the next few weeks.

I'm so looking forward to doing this that I just couldn't wait to come back and tell you about it!  We'll be keeping our same recent 'format' in days to come, and I will be using old and new writings of others (and myself) for the 'application' portion... where and as those fit.  For the most part, I will not include writers' names.  

Meanwhile, I hope you will leave comments sharing your own thoughts.

And now I will offer you excerpts from two of the earliest letters I received from article readers.  From waaaay back in 1993......

'Lay contemplatives must be the hidden gems of the Church these days.  It is time for them to stand up and make the hidden presence of their lives and prayers known...'  

'I am still in the baby stage when it comes to loving God's will.  Discernment of that will seems to me an incessant challenge, requiring utter humility.  But if I were to try to put the situation into words I would want to say that I am, in my better moments and by His grace, in love with my Creator and Redeemer, and that my loving His will is the inevitable corollary of that.  It is a symptom of the Happy Affliction!  It's in this sense that I respond to your touching image of the Cloistered Heart...'  

Stay tuned!  There is definitely more to come.....

Painting:  Marcus Stone, in US public domain due to age 


To return to the 'Monastic Adventure in Sequence' post, click here

Letters to Jesus

'God makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him.'  I am assured of this in Romans 8:28, and over the last few days I've been seeing it (again) for myself.

Because I had no Internet connection for a few days, I began writing by hand.  Somehow that felt more comfortable than doing so in 'Word,' on the computer.  It seemed I was being led into a kind of darkness, a solitude with Jesus, in which the only light whose presence I could imagine was that of a firelit torch.  

My writings turned smoothly into letters.  I began scribbling in a regular notebook (not a journal), and lo and behold.  Before I knew it, I was writing letters to Jesus Himself.

I realized by yesterday morning that my Lenten 'exercise' is to continue writing letters to Our Lord.

Oh, but this is so much more than an exercise.  It is reality.  Jesus can 'read' what I write.  Yes, He's right here and I can talk with Him; there is no reason to write my thoughts on paper.  Except:  my mind wanders all over, at times, during prayer.  Writing helps the thoughts stay on track, or get back when they've drifted.  Writing helps me remain conscious of the One to Whom I write.  Already I'd felt drawn to pray with Scripture during Lent - and Scripture is a letter from God, after all.  How rude I would be not to answer it.

My thought at present is to spend time with the daily scriptures from Mass, reading them as one would read letters from a loved One.  And then:  to genuinely, as prayer, write back.

I'd like to share, here, some of what happens.  I will write to Our Lord by hand, but I have a feeling He won't mind (!) if I share with you, later in the day, snippets of our conversations.

Where will these go?  I have no idea.  I just know this much.  It's still personal.  And apparently getting more so all the time.....

"The Bible is a letter from Almighty God to His creatures,"  (Pope St. Gregory)

Painting:   Florent Willems, The Important Response