The Scent of Contemplation

"Meditation is like a person who smells a pink, a rose, rosemary, thyme, jasmine and orange blossoms, one after the other separately.  But contemplation is like one who smells a perfume made from all these different flowers.  For he receives at once the full scent of all the flowers which the other inhales separately, and it is quite certain that this perfume, which comes from the blending of all these odours, is more sweet and precious than the perfumes of which it is composed, taken separately one by one.

"After having drawn a great number of different affections from the various considerations of which our meditations are composed, we then unite the virtue of all these affections, and this union of their powers brings forth a certain quintessence of affection, more active and powerful than all the others from which it proceeds.  While it is only one, it includes the virtues and properties of all the others, and is called contemplative affection."

St. Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God

Painting by Carl Spitzweg 

Click here to leave comments in the Parlor 

A Cry of Charity

Most people don't realize who they're quoting when they speak of catching more flies with honey than with vinegar.  I was well into adulthood when I learned that this bit of wisdom had come from one of my favorite saints. 

"You can catch more flies with a spoonful of honey than with ten barrels of vinegar." (St. Francis de Sales)  

I often think of this in connection with another quote from this Doctor of the Church.  

"It is an act of of charity to cry out against the wolf when he is among the sheep"  (St. Francis de Sales)   

These two thoughts may not appear to have much to do with one another.  But in my mind, they work together.  In fact, I often strive to "navigate between them," as one might drive between two lines painted on a highway to keep vehicles moving safely.  

As one of Our Lord's sheep, I am seeing wolves among us.  In saying this, I'm not thinking of people as much as I am of ideas and ungodly "values" that creep in, usually in sheeps' clothing. 

These generally enter in the name of freedom, tolerance, rights, pleasure, peace, fairness, justice for all.  Not wanting to be unkind, we can let them prowl freely among our families and nations and parishes without our uttering so much as a whisper of protest.  We don't want to rock boats, ruffle feathers, stir waters, or cause anyone to be uncomfortable.  We'd like to be charitable.  

It takes a lot to cry out against wolves.  But if we know the truth and do not speak it, are we acting in genuine charity toward the sheep? 

Francis de Sales would say no.  

However, there are a couple of ways of speaking.  We can lash out in anger, in sharp words that can sting and personally wound our "opponents"... in other words, we can dish out the vinegar.  Or we can speak in honeyed tones.  Not fake ones, but in words and actions spoken from a heart of love. 

How do we have such a heart when we feel anything, perhaps, but loving?  We pray.  We seek God.  We fast and sacrifice.  We ask for wisdom.  We dive into Scripture as if our very lives depended on it; because, really, they do.  

We trust that God will show us when and how to act, when and how to speak, when and how to offer truth.  Ears tend to turn off at the sound of vinegar.  The truth we're trying to communicate can pass by totally unheard if we allow frustration and anger to "vinegar-ize" what we say. 

We are seeing wolves among us.  I don't have to name them.  We find them in the media, in politics, in healthcare systems and schools and so many "areas of et cetera" that this page isn't long enough to list them.  They rob children of innocence, families of stability, societies of integrity, preborn babies of life, and individuals of eternity spent with God.  The cost of our silence could be staggering.   

But we cannot speak without honey.  

We cannot speak without love.

(this is an edited post that I originally wrote for The Breadbox Letters)

© 2013 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org       

Painting:  Shepherdess Tending Sheep, Winslow Homer

Click here to leave comments in the Parlor 
This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz  

He Knocks...

While looking into the "cloistered" heart of St. Ambrose, I came across a post from last year.  I remember how struck I was when I originally put these two paintings together, seeing how they "happened" to line up onscreen.   

As always, today I prayed to be led as to whether or not to present this again.  After all, many saw the post a year ago. 

But you know what?  I had the distinct thought that someone, somewhere, may "need" this now, this very day.  

I wonder if someone, somewhere, just might be hearing a knock.....

   
"Let your door stand open to receive Him, 

unlock your soul to Him, 

offer Him a welcome in your mind...

Throw wide the gate of your heart,
stand before the sun of the everlasting Light 
that shines on every man... 
He does not want to force His way in rudely,

or compel us to admit him against our will….

Our door is faith; if it is strong enough, 
the whole house is safe.
This is the door by which Christ enters….

It is the soul that has its door, its gates. 
Christ comes to this door and knocks;
He knocks at these gates.
Open to him;
He wants to enter,
to find His bride waiting and watching…"

                        - St. Ambrose

Click here to leave comments in the Parlor 

From the Heart of Brother Lawrence

"It is not necessary for being with God to be always at church." wrote Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection.  "We may make an oratory of our heart wherein to retire from time to time to converse with Him in meekness, humility, and love."

That is a cloistered heart statement if ever I've heard one.  

Many of us are familiar with this humble Brother, and with his classic work The Practice of the Presence of God.  Therefore, I will allow the following quotes to serve as (re?) introductions to his gentle wisdom.  These words of Brother Lawrence challenge and encourage me as I strive to live for God in the midst of the world.  

"We must try to converse with God in little ways while we do our work... we should purely and simply reveal our hearts as the words come to us."

“He does not ask much of us, merely a thought of Him from time to time, a little act of adoration, sometimes to ask for His grace... Lift up your heart to Him during your meals and in company; the least little remembrance will always be the most pleasing to Him. One need not cry out very loudly; He is nearer to us than we think.”

“Think often on God, by day, by night, in your business and even in your diversions. He is always near you and with you; leave him not alone.”

“I keep myself retired with Him in the centre of my soul as much as I can; and while I am so with Him I fear nothing."

“A little lifting up of the heart suffices; a little remembrance of God, an interior act of adoration, even though made on the march and with sword in hand, are prayers which, short though they may be, are nevertheless very pleasing to God, and far from making a soldier lose his courage on the most dangerous occasions, bolster it."

“We should establish ourselves in a sense of God's Presence, by continually conversing with Him."



For more about the life of Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, click this line.  This is a Christmas article, with the main material about Brother Lawrence in the second half, but the entire piece is a beautiful reflection on the Presence of God - regardless of the season!

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz

Again I Begin

While praying recently for a fresh wind of prayer, I ran across the following.  I've edited it slightly, for I first scribbled this in a journal over twenty years ago.  Twenty years!  Before iPads, Kindles, Twitter, Pinterest, smart phones, dumb phones, texting, mobile apps.  Back then, people went to dinners disconnected, engaging in conversation with no concerns about a purse ringing just as salads arrived.   Yet even then, I was aware of how hard it was to tune in to the gentle presence of God.  

'We can hardly hear anything in this world of ceaseless distraction.  Our ancestors, even our recent ones, would be simply overwhelmed by the barrage of noises that surround us in this busy world, in this busy western world.  We are bombarded by entertainment, images, music, sounds, distractions we carry with us wherever we go. 

Perhaps we find our own thoughts too disturbing, so we drown them out with ceaseless chatter.  Maybe inactivity reminds us too clearly that we were created to fill our time with God, so we flee from the reminders by cramming our days full of mindless clutter

I know this because I am so this way, busily fluttering amid distractions that keep me blissfully unaware.

If only we could see it!  If only we could see the drama in which we're engaged!  If only we could peer, eyes unveiled, into the truth for just a minute.  I can't believe that such acute awareness would not utterly change our lives...'

Over twenty years later, I am still struggling to quiet down and 'listen.'  Funny.  I thought I'd be settled into a real routine by now.  Not so.

Perhaps because routine has never been easy for me?  Possibly.  Maybe because distractions are becoming daily more present and ever more convenient for all of us?  Surely.

And, if I'm honest, probably because some part of me would rather look at glitter than into scripture.  It's a tough thing to consider, an even tougher thing to admit.  But it is at least partially true.  After all, a bit of online glitz will not remind me that I need to take time to pray for situations on the world stage.  Or perhaps that I can even, if I give Him time and space, encounter the loving presence of God.

Encountering the Presence of God.  Imagine!  I can do this very thing in prayer, even in the silence of my heart.  I know how this works; I've done it for years:  I can sit down and pray, giving God time and space and attention.  I can take another look at Lectio Divina.

Why on earth am I waiting?  Maybe if I ask Him, and maybe if I sit long enough to hear His still, small Voice, Our Lord will answer this very question.

I pick up my Bible. I open it.

Again I begin.

All text in this post © 2013 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org      

Click here to leave comments in the Parlor 
This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz