
I knew, when the idea of
the cloistered heart first came to me in the 1980s, that monasteries of nuns or
monks have special places not open to outsiders. I realized that these
areas were called cloisters. It was enough information to get me started. “The whole idea of a cloistered heart,” I wrote in 1988, “is that the part of
me referred to as the ‘heart’ – meaning my spirit, who I really AM – should be
detached from the world in its attachment to the Creator of the world."
A place of refuge, no matter where I happened to be. A portable fortress,
a place inviolate - where I could remain with Jesus in the midst of snowstorms, traffic jams, persecutions, illnesses, fires, floods. It was an appealing idea. It was
also (this being most important) theologically sound. "The heart is the
dwelling place where I am, where I live... the heart is the place 'to which I
withdraw.' The heart is our hidden center, beyond the grasp of our
reason and of others; only the Spirit of God can fathom the human heart and
know it fully. (Catechism of the Catholic Church #2563)
The cloistered heart is the heart of David dancing before the ark; of Mesach,
Shadrach and Abednego in the fiery furnace; of Paul in prison, Daniel in the
lions’ den, John on Patmos, Peter in chains. The world is not safe
from evil – even the body isn’t safe from harm – but within the cloistered
heart there is refuge. The Lord is with me, He is within my
cloister.
My heart, as long as He is in it, is safe.
"Remember… to retire occasionally into the solitude of your heart while
you are outwardly engaged in business with others. This mental solitude
cannot be prevented by the multitude of those who surround you. As they
are not about your heart, but only about your body, your heart remains alone in
the presence of God.” (St. Francis de Sales).
This is a slightly edited repost from our archives. It is being linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.'