The Cloistered Heart in a Noisy World

 

So Very Cloistered, Here

Of all my retreats in the (physical) cloister, one was particularly fruitful. This could have been surprising given the circumstances. The monastery was not in mountains or meadow, but situated in the middle of a bustling city. That was okay with me; there was a lush cloister garden separated from the streets by high brick walls. My plan was to sit with Bible and journal and gather together scattered threads of thoughts and prayers. The sounds of traffic around? No problem. I looked upon those as bits of background noise. I would spend the day with God, in peace. A nearly ideal set up for serenity.  

 

That is, until the band. 

From a campus nearby, there were sudden sounds of an outdoor concert. A LOUD outdoor concert. I sat in the garden surrounded by trees, holy statues, birds, and THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD. Perhaps it would have been less unsettling if I could have heard ALL of the music; as it was, I only heard the thuds. Thud thud thuds out of context, setting my nerves on end. Suddenly ordinary street sounds began to unsettle me. How long had there been planes flying overhead, one after another, and so close by?  The city seemed filled with sirens. Voices shouted, just outside the enclosure walls. Hmmpppf, thought I. However could I pray? 

And then it was time for the Office of Prayer. A bell rang, the Sisters gathered. As a retreatant, I joined them. We began the chant. One Sister quietly closed shutters to hush metallic thuds. That didn’t help, but the nuns sang on, undaunted. “O Lord, open my lips” THUDTHUDTHUD “and my mouth shall" THUDTHUDTHUD “proclaim your praise…”

I was suddenly struck by the incongruity of it all. Sirens, traffic, shouting, planes, THUD, chant.

But more than that; I was struck by beauty. By the intense, amazing, astonishing beauty of it ALL.

One Sister said, just before I left after retreat, that she was sorry I’d been there at such a noisy time. Oh no, I assured her; I had been there at the perfect time. I had seen the analogy of “the cloistered heart” in a whole new way, not in spite of the noises, but because of them. No matter what went on outside, the Sisters were there to praise God, and they would do it undaunted. Probably they didn’t “feel” very prayerful as they chanted praises they could barely hear, but they were singing to Another, and He could hear them.

Surely there are days when any one of them doesn’t “feel prayerful,” but she comes at the sound of the bell and she praises God, for He deserves it. He deserves praise and worship with the whole of one’s being. No matter the noises, no matter the weather, no matter the situations around any of us, God is worthy of praise. Period.

 

God is present, and no matter what goes on all around, He is worthy of praise. Period.

Where You Are Now

Any Given Moment

It has helped me (recently) to realize that one moment is all I have. This moment, right now... that's it.

I can no longer use yesterday's moments for God. I can repent of them, or perhaps be glad I used them as I did, or just forget about them - but I cannot change a single one.

And tomorrow's moments? I can pray now for them, offering them to God and asking Him to grace me in advance. But still: the actual arrival of each will place a choice before me.

The moment of right now is the one I truly have. The one in which I can now choose. Shall I give this moment to God .. or not?

I've been thinking about this for the last few days, making an effort to put this moment, and then this next one, to good use.

As I was writing this post, just as I finished that last sentence, the electricity in my house went out.  Finally taking time to string a few thoughts together (which has been particularly tough for me on this topic, for some unknown reason), I felt like my words were suddenly pulled out from under me. No blog screen, no Internet. Stolen moments, or so it seemed. But of course the moments were not stolen at all. Each was given to me, and I could choose whether or not to give it over to God.

I could use any given moment of this tiny trial for grumbling, panicking, fretting. Or I could grab any one and praise God in it, surrender to His will, choose to trust Him.  God is worthy of praise at any given moment, no matter what is happening to me. Even when my air conditioning isn't working and storms roll outside and the food in my freezer is thawing, God is good and is worthy of praise. I can choose to pray. I can smile instead of grumble, trust instead of fret, repent instead of delay and excuse.

Whether I remembered (or chose) to do so as recently as a minute ago, I can give this very moment of my life to God.

"Every moment of your life is like God saying 'look, I know you messed up in the last moment, but here's a new one'... you have a fresh start in this new moment. Every day, every moment of your life is brand new." (Mother Angelica)

Praying Where Lions Wait

I have never faced the challenge of praying where lions wait. I've never been like Daniel, prohibited from praying, and I haven't endured threats of hungry animals waiting to feast on me if I did.

"All the supervisors of the kingdom... are agreed that the following prohibition ought to be put in force by royal decree: no one is to address any petition to god or man for thirty days, except to you, O king; otherwise he shall be cast into a den of lions.... 

"Even after Daniel heard that this law had been signed, he continued his custom of going home to kneel in prayer and give thanks to his God in the upper chamber three times a day... So these men rushed in and found Daniel praying and pleading before his God...  

"The king ordered Daniel to be brought and cast into the lions' den. To Daniel he said 'May your God, whom you serve so constantly, save you...' the king rose early the next morning and hastened to the lions' den... Daniel answered the king: 'O king, live forever! My God has sent His angel and closed the lions' mouths.'" (Daniel 6)

Today I read the above and ask myself...

Am I ever hesitant to be "caught praying?" Or even to let people know I pray? Perhaps I'm shy about it with my family, neighbors, co-workers. If so, why?

Am I willing to be known as one who serves God?

If I think about my life today, what do I fear?  Maybe I imagine all sorts of "lions" slinking around. Can I make a decision (as tough as it may be to do so) to trust my Lord to save me, and "close the lions' mouths?"

"I decree" wrote the king to all the nations after Daniel was spared, "that throughout my royal domain the God of Daniel is to be reverenced and feared. 'For He is the living God, enduring forever; His kingdom shall not be destroyed, and His dominion shall be without end. He is a Deliverer and Savior, working signs and wonders in heaven and on earth, and He delivered Daniel from the lions' power.'"  

He is a Deliverer and Savior, still working signs and wonders. And He can deliver us from whatever we may face. 

Painting: Briton Reviere, Daniel's Answer to the King

In Places of Praise

"They are happy who dwell in Your house! Continually they praise You." (Psalm 84:5)

Imagine living where we could praise God all day long. Imagine being where just a few footsteps would bring us into His Presence, and we could come before Him in adoration. 

'O you who fear the Lord, praise Him in the places where you are now.  Change of place does not affect any drawing nearer to God, but wherever you may be, God will come to you.' (Gregory of Nyssa)." 

Praise Him in the place where I am now? Wherever I may be, He will come to me? Now, that is a beautifully 'cloistered heart' idea, and a striking promise, and I know it is the truth. 

I do, however, need lots of reminding. So with this in mind, I hope to spend the next few days here visiting some of the places where God can meet with me. Would you like to come along?

The truth is: we live precisely where we can praise God all day long. Just a word of prayer can bring us into His Presence. 

We can come to Him in adoration, wherever we may be. 


Photo © C Wells

At Least 7 Times

'In the morning, Lord, You will hear my voice. In the morning I will pray to You, and I will watch for Your answer.' (Psalm 5:3)

'Sing to Him, sing His praise, proclaim all His wondrous deeds. Glory in His holy name; rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord! Look to the Lord in His strength; seek to serve Him constantly.' (1 Chronicles 16:9-11)

'Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord.' (prayer before meals)

'Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forevermore.' (aspiration)

'Rejoice always, never cease praying, render constant thanks; such is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.' (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

'Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake. Watch over us as we sleep. That awake, we may keep watch with Christ; and asleep, rest in His peace."' (Office of Night Prayer)

'I will remember You upon my couch, and through the night watches I will meditate on You.' (Psalm 63:7)




Painting: Caspar David Friedrich

Wearing the Habit of Praise

The night before last, I had an unsettling dream. It happens to all of us, I suppose: the occasional strange dream that persists throughout the day. This one was not so much story as atmosphere; a kind of dense blue vapor, thick and smoky, like dark wisps of shadow masquerading as forms.

It put me in a 'mood.' I couldn't shake the dream off, couldn't exactly remember it, couldn't grasp its essence enough to logically think it away. I felt as if my mind had gone heavy and dense.

Then I came across the scripture speaking of  'the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.' (Isaiah 61:3) And there it was. The very 'piece of grillwork' I needed. A part of my habit. The garment of praise.

What a powerful image. Praise not just to 'do' now and then, but to be clothed in, day and night. Praise as a HABIT, something that could become so much a part of my life that I'd habitually praise God in happy times and sad.

Scripture is filled (filled!) with prayers of praise to God, as well as exhortations and examples. It provides the perfect pattern. A concordance can be an excellent guide to the most basic pieces. We discover, for instance, that we are called to praise God continually (Hebrews 13:15), with all that we are (Psalm 103:1), because He is worthy (Chronicles 16:25).

The garment of praise is, I think, the perfect habit. I would like to wear it well.

'You changed my mourning into dancing; You took off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my soul might sing praise to You without ceasing. O Lord, my God, forever will I give You thanks.' (Psalm 30:12-13)

Revisiting Magnificats

In honor of 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday,' I'd like to drop back in on the scene of the Visitation, when our Blessed Mother burst forth with the glorious words of her Magnificat: 

'My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit exalts in God my Savior, for He has looked upon His servant in her lowliness; all ages to come shall call me blessed.  God Who is mighty has done great things for me, holy is His Name...' (Luke 1:46-49) 

Was this the only time Mary burst forth with praise of God? Of course not. Her later words of exaltation do not have to be recorded for us to know for certain that she spoke them. She who was sinless, holy, utterly dedicated to God, and living with Jesus within the very walls of her home... how could it be possible for her not to have uttered countless 'magnificats?' 

When Jesus took His first steps, Mary was watching. 

When He spoke His first words, when He lay sleeping in her arms - can we imagine the praise within her?

As Mary prayed in the temple, cared for her home, prepared meals for her little family, surely she worshiped through it all.

In my daily life, sometimes I reflect upon Mary's magnificats. Going on my little 'visitations' to those around me, I try to remember that in the midst of her Visitation, Mary gave thanks.

I, too, am called by God to proclaim His greatness, sometimes within hearing of those around me, sometimes in the quiet of my heart. The mighty things God has done for me are quite different from what He did for Mary... but He has done some great things nonetheless.

In joyous moments, do I remember to exalt Him? When I have an opportunity, do I proclaim the greatness of the Lord? And what about the sad times - what then?  I have no doubt that even in her worst moments, Mary's heart could (and did) cry 'holy is His Name.'

When tough times come to my own life, I have a Mother who can assist me. I think she can help me find the will to praise.

When Jesus took His last steps, Mary was watching. 

When He spoke His last words, Mary was there to hear them. 'John, behold your mother. Father forgive them. It is finished.'  She was there when He was taken from the Cross.

Scripture gives us no record of what Mary said when Jesus was placed in her arms that last time. We can only imagine. We do know that her heart, her tender, motherly heart, was pierced and broken.  Did she utter actual words? We do not know. But we are certain of the attitude of Mary, and we know that her decision to trust and to praise would have been there, even then.

In my imagination, I can almost hear it.

'My soul proclaims the
greatness of the Lord; 
my spirit exalts 
in God my Savior... 
God Who is mighty 
has done great 
things for me. 
Holy is His Name.'

This is a slightly edited repost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.' 
 
Text not in quotes © 2012 N Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org

Paintings top to bottom:
Visitation by Ubaldo Gandolfi
Virgin and Child with St Anne by Leonardo da Vinci
Pietà by Giovanni Segala


 

So Shall This My Matins Be

 

'A song of praise I offer,
from morn till sunset time,
and so shall this my Matins be
Vespers, Terce, and Prime...

The clatter of startled blackbird,
Trill of birds in trees,
Because I loved them dearly,
My Lord, I offer these...

The rhythm of sharpening sickle
Hum of the mowing machine,
The whirring of the thresher
when the harvest cart comes in...

The cheerful talk of my loved ones,
the sound of men at prayer,
the noise of children calling
in the still summer air.

From sunrise until dusk, O Lord,
accept my praise of Thee.'

(from Fervorinos from the Lips of the Master, compiled by a Religious, Pelligrini, Australia, 1940, pp. 437-438)

 

Paintings by Winslow Homer (top), Bruck Vásárra (middle) and Walter Moras (bottom)