I Choose the Wall

Living within the will of God, making a specific choice to do so, can be a pleasant thing to talk about.  It's nice to write of, good to meditate upon, and the idea fits well in the pages of a "cloistered heart" blog.

It's just a bit different when it comes to the "doing" of it.  Oh, it's not so bad when God's will and mine are precisely the same.  But the funny thing is:  at some point(s), my will and God's are going to conflict.  

What happens then?

Tonight I'm looking at the "walls" of God's will - the boundaries in which I am "enclosed" if I genuinely want to live for Him.  I'm thinking about what the Church teaches on particular subjects.  I'm considering Scripture.  Wow - there are some tough things to live up to in Scripture!  Pray for my persecutors?  Love my neighbor as myself?   Do not judge?!

Sometimes I find myself picking and choosing.  I'll live this commandment, but not that other one.   I'll go right along with this chapter in the Catechism, but surely I'm not expected to take that one seriously.  I mean... c'mon!   Who does?

If I intend to live cloistered in heart, then I "does."  I don't just go grabbing stones out of my enclosure wall.  For if I do, it won't be long before that wall - that high, beloved wall built by Our Lord Himself to protect me - comes swiftly tumbling down.   And I am left unprotected, unshielded, vulnerable to attacks on my life, my spirit, my immortal soul.  

God's will and mine are going to conflict.  At various points, this is going to happen.  In order for me to choose God's will for Him and not just for my own self-interest, this HAS to happen.  

For if God's will and mine are always the same, however could I make a truly free choice for His?  

"Don't lose heart, I entreat you; gradually train your will to follow God's will wherever it leads."  (St. Francis de Sales)

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

Grille Eyes

You are allowed to laugh.  Or groan.  Or hastily cover this picture of A Girl Wearing Spectacles of Fashionable Red Plaid so you don't have to look at it.  Hey, I never claimed to be good at Photoshop...

But the truth is:  I could use a pair of glasses just like these.  Portable grillwork, through which I'd be reminded to look at everything through the Will of God.  I could then see newspapers, people, television, every sort of situation with God's Will right smack in front of me.

Wouldn't it be handy?  If we had such aids, we would not only see things as God intended, we'd also know how He wanted us to respond. 

While holiness does not come automatically to one living in the physical enclosure, at least a cloistered nun doesn't forget she's in a cloister.  She wakes up every morning surrounded by reminders of where she is.  If her monastery has grillwork in the parlor, every visitor is encountered through it. 

We, however, might say we want to have "cloistered hearts" - and then look at what happens!  We're still in the same environments.  We work in the same offices, cook the same meals, scrub the same sinks.  We see the same people and find no grillwork in front of their faces, so we often forget to relate to them through the will of God.

Life lived for God, in the protection of Scripture and Church teaching, is life lived against the grain.  It can be tough to find the view through the grille, not to mention the fact that such a viewpoint can be, well - about as fashionable as a pair of football shaped plaid specs.

As for me, I intend (by the grace of God) to keep finding ways to remind myself of the grille-view.  How do I do this?  I read Scripture, not just as an academic exercise, but as a manual of how to live. If I wonder about what the Church teaches on a particular matter, I look it up in the Official Catechism of the Catholic Church.

And here comes the hard part.  If I find that I don't agree with something the Church teaches, I am called to change.  I match what I do to what the Church asks of me:  it doesn't work the other way around.

Is it easy to bend my will to Scripture and Church teaching?  No.

Is it popular and hip and "today?"  No.

It can be tough to live "through the grille" when people around have other opinions.  But if I don't try to live according to Scripture and Church teaching, then "the cloistered heart" is nothing more for me than just a nice phrase. 

As I attempt to live as God asks, I could be seen as uncool.  If people knew to do so, some might even taunt me with names like "grille eyes."

But I have been given the right prescription, and I'm grateful to finally be able to see.

(Georges Jakobides painting 1882, in US public domain; glasses digitally altered)

© 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org    

The Monastery

As someone desiring to live as a "cloistered heart," I look at my life as a monastery.  After all, a monastery is a place consecrated to God, a place of prayer, a place where God is loved and served.  I can certainly be all of these things.  I can be a place for God.  

This is more than a nice daydream.  It is simply truth.   

"Even now we are called to be a dwelling for the Most Holy Trinity.  'If a man loves Me,' says the Lord, 'he will keep My word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our home with him.' (John 14:23)"  (Catechism of the Catholic Church #260)

"O my God.... grant my soul peace.  Make it Your heaven, Your beloved dwelling, and Your place of rest.  May I never abandon You there, but may I be there, whole and entire, completely vigilant in my faith, entirely adoring, and wholly given over to Your creative action."  (St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, quoted in Catechism of the Catholic Church # 260)

Looking for a picture to put with this post, I was stopped in my tracks by the one I wound up choosing.  It was not my favorite from among the possibilities, but I could not ignore the Scripture that immediately sprang to mind....

"Anyone who hears My words and puts them into practice is like the wise man who built his house on rock.  When the rainy season set in, the torrents came and the winds blew and buffeted his house.  It did not collapse; it has been solidly set on rock."  (Matthew 7:24-25) 

I look at the painting and envision floodwaters surging all around, washing away vegetation and turning soil into oozing brown rivulets.  I think of waters rising, rising, carrying within them all sorts of trash and polution... yet the house stands firm, for it is built upon a massive rock.

"He alone is my Rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be disturbed at all."  (Psalm 62:2-3)

I pray that we may stand firm and strong upon Our Lord Himself.  As imperfect as we are, He actually desires to live within us.  

Imagine. 

"Humility and charity are the two main parts of the spiritual edifice.  One is the lowest and the other the highest, and all the others depend on them.  Hence, we must keep ourselves well founded in these two, because the preservation of the entire edifice depends on the foundation and the roof."  (St. Francis de Sales)

(Andrea Mantegna painting, public domain) 

Text © 2012 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org   

Listening for the Bells

Monastery bells ring out at regular times throughout the day, and often in the night.  Each peal is a call signaling that it's time to pray, eat, work, meet....

In my life, too, I have "bells."  I admit that I both love and dread them.  Sometimes I think I'd find them more agreeable if they rang forth with monastic regularity, and I could know I must show up for dinner at noon and prayer at 1:00 and back to my work at 2:00.  But no; the bells calling me are usually unpredictable.  They rrrbrbrring forth from the phone, call with a baby's cry, clang in a doorbell.  

Today, in a moment of hassle (of the sort that can feel overwhelming), I decided to make peace with the bells. I think this decision came with a ring of inspiration.  I was overworked, overtired, with too much to do in too few minutes and no energy left to do it with.  

And it hit me.  With a "DONG," it hit me.  I realized that I was scrubbing and gift-wrapping and preparing and rushing and being interrupted because there are people I love who would prefer a clean house to a dirty one.  And because a little one has a birthday.  And because there are family members and friends visiting, in two different batches, over the next week.  And because I have the incredible gift of a family.  My goodness - how blessed am I!!

Yesterday I wrote about counting my blessings.  Today I counted them clang-by-clang.  I had already been thinking of writing about monastery bells, so today I was aware of every sweet chime.

God asks of me what He asks of those in physical monasteries..... obedience to the "bells."  Loving attention to the responsibilities of my life.  What an opportunity for thanksgiving this could be.   "Thank You, Lord, for Linus's birthday.... thank you that he was born."  And if the phone rings as I'm gift-wrapping?  "Thank You for the friend who's calling."  Oh... the friend has a need?  I can pray for that as I mop the floor...

Again, it may sound "simple."  But I've found that the most "do-able" things to help my life of prayer are often just that.   

For prayer and reflection:

"Each small task of everyday life is part of the total harmony of the universe."  (St. Therese of Lisieux)

"The way we came to understand love was that He laid down His life for us; we too must lay down our lives for our brothers.... little children, let us love in deed and in truth and not merely talk about it."  (1 John 3:16 & 18) 

(public domain photo)

This post was re-posted by THE FEMININE GIFT 

Text not in quotes © 2012 Nancy Shuman. 
thecloisteredheart.org    

Tower of Strength

"The Name of the Lord is a strong tower; the just man runs to it and is safe.”  (Proverbs 18:10)

There is change in the air as a storm approaches.  The wind picks up, clouds gather, there may be a distant clap of thunder.  As lightning flashes around us, we race for shelter. 

Monastery grounds and walls are as subject to storms as those of any other building.  They get slapped with rain, pelted with sleet, covered in snow.  Inhabitants of the cloister might find themselves standing at a window looking out, maybe with a touch of concern.  What are those chunks of hail doing to the roof?  Are the windows secure against the wind?     

The monastery of my life is vulnerable, too.  I face storms, at times, of great magnitude.  Sickness, sudden disaster, an unnerving news report.  It helps me then to remember that I’m in the strongest cloister possible – the cloister of God’s loving embrace.  Everything that touches me must first come through His hands, through His “permissive will.”  I can do as St. Francis de Sales advised, and say amid my contradictions: “this is the very road to heaven.  I see the door, and I am certain the storms cannot prevent us from getting there.”

“If Christ’s love is the enclosure wall (and we know that it is, for He has said that ‘My beloved is a garden enclosed), He encloses you; He IS the enclosure.”  (Mother Mary Francis PCC, from “Walls Around the World”)

“Happy is the soul established in God and in holy humility.  The winds of the storm are powerless to shake her.” (St. Jane de Chantal)

For prayer and meditation:

“In Him who is the source of my strength I have strength for everything.”  (Philippians 4:13)

“Dismiss all anxiety from your minds.  Present your needs to God in every form of prayer and in petitions full of gratitude.  Then God’s own peace, which is beyond all understanding, will stand guard over your hearts and minds, in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:6-7)

(public domain photo, altered)  

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

finding the grille view

Sometimes I look at the world and feel unsettled.  Perhaps that’s why I’m so grateful to have grillwork. I am glad to be able to respond to world upheavals, physical conditions, relationships, the media, and my own anxieties “through the grille.” 

Again I think of the word practice. As one who’s been trying for 20 years to “see and respond to situations through the grille,” I know that learning to find the view through the grille takes practice.  In the analogy of the cloistered heart, our grillwork is the will of God as it’s revealed to us in Scripture and Church teaching.  Fine.  But how does that work in “real life?”  How is it put into practice?

I compare it to the way things work for a cloistered nun meeting visitors in the foyer.  Sister stands at the grille, looking out at whoever stands before her.  The foyer is a public part of the monastery, accessible to almost anyone.  In my monastery, I see the "foyer" as my mind.  I invite thoughts there by what I see and hear, but I have little control over things that come uninvited.  If I get on a bus, go have a haircut, walk into a store… all sorts of things push in.  They’re like salesmen invading a monastery foyer.  They can be quite insistent, especially if they’ve had success in selling to me before.  Oh, and so many of them have!

Through the grille, they display catalogs of their wares.  “Have you worried about this today?” the thoughts ask. “Look at this new line of fears - tailor made just for YOU!”  

God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)  I ask God to impress this truth upon me.

“But consider the pain you’ve been feeling!!” the thoughts insist.

"I consider the sufferings of the present to be as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18).  I recite this bar of my grille over and over.

“…But look at you!  You are weak and helpless and poor!”   

“In Him Who is the source of my strength I have strength for everything.” (Philippians 4:13).   Maybe I'll write that grille piece on paper and tape it to my mirror. 

And on it goes.  Finding the view is not easy.  I try every day; I fail every day.  But with every “success,” it seems the grillwork grows stronger before me.  It is how God invites me to meet the world.    

“During this changeable life, one must preserve a steady and imperturbable evenness of spirit.  Although everything may change around us, we must keep the serene glance of our soul constantly turned to God. ” (St. Francis de Sales)

© 2011 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org    

In the Habit

Imagine this:  a woman just entering monastic life prepares to don a habit for the first time.  She looks at the pieces of fabric folded neatly on a table before her.  Soft  veil, long dress, layers of material she has waited to wear.  Her new habit smells like it was dried in the sun and pressed with just a hint of starch.  It carries the scent of the wind. 

She picks up the dress and slips it on, sliding it down over the stained orange jumper she wore through the enclosure door.  She lifts the veil onto her head, covering a tattered woolen hat.  The veil snags on her mismatched earrings, but never mind.  She’ll get used to all of this, in time. 

Certainly the scene I've just described is ridiculous.  But let us consider this....“Clothe yourselves with heartfelt mercy, kindness, humility, meekness and patience.” (Colossians 3:12).  I look at these and other virtues and find myself desiring to “wear” them.  But if I make deliberate choices to boast as I pretend to be humble, or if I'm cruel even as I write of mercy, I am simply hiding one kind of clothing under another.  I’m applying a layer of veneer.  I am in need of a habit exchange. 

Habits are actions acquired over a period of time, with repetition.  I ask myself:  would I like to cast off lifelong habits of self-seeking in order to let God clothe me in the habit of seeking His will?  Am I willing to turn in my habit of laziness in exchange for diligence in prayer?   For me it remains a constant struggle, and I take heart in knowing I am not the only person to have faced it.  “I cannot even understand my own actions,” wrote the apostle Paul.  “I do not do what I want to do but what I hate… what a wretched man I am!  Who can deliver me from this body under the power of death?  All praise to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 8:15-25)

I pray to cast off my threadbare, tattered vices and see them as the worthless rags they are.  I pray to outgrow them, and to - through prayer and practice – develop habits of virtue.  I pray to be clothed in the habit 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).

(painting La Religieuse, Henriette Browne)

© 2011 Nancy Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org   
 

the grille

I have entered the enclosure door, crossed the threshold, taken the step.  Like a potential nun having come into the cloister, I take a look at my surroundings.  One of the first things I may do is glance back over my shoulder.  I still see the outside world (or at least the foyer)… but now I see it through a grille.

The grille is a powerful symbol.  I would go so far as to say that, in the cloistered heart way of life I’m describing, it is the important symbol.  It is a place of separation and, just as importantly, it is a place of encounter.  It is only through the grille that some cloistered individuals (in a number of communities) connect with the world. 

And you know what?  Every human being has been given, by God, a way to connect with the world.  A way to see situations correctly; a way to interact with others appropriately. 

God invites each one of us to view and respond to every person and every circumstance through His will.

We do not have to guess what that will is.  God has revealed it to us.  Scripture and the authentic teachings of the Church make up the bars of our grille.

Am I facing a hardship?  I can face it through the grille. “God makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him…”  (Romans 8:28).   

“We do not fix our gaze on what is seen but on what is unseen…” (2 Corinthians 4:18).  In days to come, may God open us more fully to the grillwork of His will.

© 2011 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org    

Enclosure

The step from world into cloister has long intrigued me.  One leaves “here” and goes “there.”  But one doesn’t just tiptoe over a threshold into nothingness.  Anyone taking such a step has carefully considered the “there” to which they are going. 

At this point I need to do one paragraph of defining, in case anyone reading this is not familiar with the set up of monastic life.  In every monastery, of nuns or of monks, there is an area normally reserved for residents of the monastic community.  This is called “the cloister” or “enclosure.”  Some communities observe what is called full (or papal) enclosure.  This means that those residing therein live within their specified enclosure for life.  That’s right:  they go in, and under normal circumstances they do not come out (there are exceptions, of course, like for medical care).  This doesn’t mean they never see the sun again; often enclosures are rather vast places, always including some outdoor areas and occasionally even encompassing meadows or streams.  The cloistered person also still sees family and friends, meeting with them in parlors and meeting rooms.

It can be awfully strange, for those of us not called to it, to consider a life of full enclosure.  But in the analogy of the cloistered heart that we will be using here, the idea of enclosure is extremely important.  There IS an enclosure into which we are invited.  It is a genuine enclosure, one that goes beyond all of our loftiest mental images.

The fact is:  if we’re human beings, we are called to live within the will of God.   

In the analogy of "the cloistered heart," I am invited to live within the boundaries of God's will as a nun would live inside her enclosure.  A potential cloistered nun does not set the boundaries of enclosure for herself, saying that she really prefers other areas, thank you very much.  No, she accepts them as they have already been set up... or she goes elsewhere.

I look around, today, at the boundaries of my enclosure.  I don't have to map them out for myself; they are clearly defined for me in Scripture and in 2,000 years of authentic Church discernment. 

Sometimes we can fear the boundaries of God's will, worrying that they'll sap all joy and pleasure from our lives.  The saints tell us otherwise. 

“Our happiness consists in knowing and doing His holy will.” (St. Jane de Chantal)

“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)

“Do you want to be free?  Then free yourself by your own act; have no will but God’s will.”  (La Trappe in England by a Religious of Holy Cross Abbey, 1937)

Text not in quotes © 2011 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org   

a refuge for Him

I was seven years old when I learned I had a soul.  This was where Jesus would come when I received Holy Communion, and I was to prepare the place carefully.  Sweep it clean and tidy, Sister instructed; no sin allowed.  I pictured this “item” of my personhood quite vividly.  I saw it as oval shaped, pearly white, and resting in the center of my chest.  A venial sin would spot it, a mortal sin (heaven forbid) would turn it black as a lump of coal.  It was like a little house inside me, where Jesus could come and rest.

I’m now many years past seven.  I no longer envision a white oval, shining like a pearl.  I do, however, marvel at the truth embedded in this simple childhood picture. “Here I stand, knocking at the door.  If anyone hears Me calling and opens the door, I will enter his house and have supper with Him, and he with Me.”  (Revelation 3:20)

“Anyone who loves Me will be true to My word, and My Father will love him; We will come to him and make our dwelling place with him.”  (John 14:22)

What an astonishing reality.  There really IS a dwelling place inside me, set aside for God Himself.  A cloister of the heart, a sanctuary.  And it’s not a refuge for me alone. 

In the days when He walked the earth, Jesus found places of refuge.  Certainly He was in need of them, as He was hunted down, mocked, misunderstood, beaten, spat upon, and finally killed.  He found refuge in a womb, a manger, the arms of Mary and Joseph, with friends, and in a little house in Bethany.  In such places Jesus was cared about and loved.

As we know, misunderstanding of Jesus did not cease with His crucifixion.  The world has never, as a whole, reached out to embrace Christ and His teachings.  He is still “spat upon.” He’s discounted, laughed at, shunned in various ways – often before our eyes.  I may hear Him mocked this very day..  or dismissed as unimportant.  I might hear His Name used as a swear word. 

If that happens, can I remember to take a moment to offer a prayer of praise and love to Him in the solitude of my heart? 

“A cloistered heart accepts God’s grace to love Jesus Christ in the midst of a world that does not love Him; to embrace His will in a world which does not embrace it.  Thus the cloistered heart becomes a place of refuge not only for us, but for Christ Himself.  To create such a refuge is a primary part of the cloistered heart’s apostolate.” (from The Cloistered Heart (book), NS)

“Jesus, here is my heart; let it be a little cozy resting place for yourself.”  (St. Faustina)

“Make my soul…Your cherished dwelling place, Your home of rest.  Let me never leave You there alone, but keep me there all absorbed in You, in living faith, adoring You.”  (Elizabeth of the Trinity)

May we take every opportunity to embrace Christ in the refuge of our hearts – today.

© 2011 Nancy Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org