Union with God/St. John of the Cross

Sometimes when you are “in the zone” in prayer, and contemplation seems particularly rich and fruitful, you can have one of those moments when the presence of Christ is intensely felt.  Saints throughout history have tried to put their experiences in words, but words are always inadequate when trying to describe an experience of God.

Using their natural gifts, some saints have tried to describe a method of attaining union with God.  Always, though, they acknowledge that this cannot be accomplished by one’s own effort.  Any experience of union with God comes by way of God’s grace and is total gift.  It’s not like we can make it happen by following a set of instructions, but because it is such a wonderful experience, our saints often try to help us understand how it might happen for us as well by explaining the process they themselves experienced.

The other thing that has always amazed me about saints, such as St. Augustine, for instance, is their willingness to share their deepest, darkest secrets with the world.  Thank goodness they have, because as we learn about their personal weaknesses, we find in their humanity a happy connection to ourselves.  God in his infinite wisdom has given us men and women with whom we can relate--not perfect people, but truly people like us in many ways.

Some of what we know about being in union with God comes from saints that were ordered to write about their experiences.  This was not easy for them.  They found it hard to find the time to write and often feared that they would write something in error.  Not wanting to lead others astray, they had to entrust their work to their spiritual leaders in the hope something good could be found in their writings and if it was bad, it would be thrown out.

Some of our saints, such as John of the Cross (a Doctor of the Church) wrote in such high mystical language it is often hard for the beginner (or even an advanced student of his work) to totally comprehend.

Beautifully, though, in his work Dark Night of the Soul, he moves his student from his lived experience in the physical world (where he was imprisoned and escaped), to the depths of his mystical love.

When you read, “On a dark night, kindled in love with yearnings . . . . I went forth without being observed, my house being now at rest . . . . In darkness and secure, by the secret ladder, disguised . . . .” you can almost see him scaling that prison wall with a rope of bedclothes in the middle of the night as he sought to escape the prison where he endured torture for nine months.

But then, as he explains each stanza in detail, we learn that it is the spiritual darkness that falls on each of our lives, of which he mostly speaks.  He leads us to understand that great happiness can be found in our journey to God, in darkness, where our enemies are conquered and we are purged of those obstacles that get in the way of our union with God.

Like I said, he gets pretty deep.

But the reason I mention him now, is because I can see a parallel between  St. John’s Dark Night of the Soul and God’s writing in the Word of his Son, Jesus Christ, whom we meet in the manger.

Like John’s sublime poetry, the Father meets us in the physical world and moves us beyond it.  To stand before the manger and study its design and marvel at its workmanship, is to limit ourselves to this earthly reality.  If we do not recognize the beauty of the Incarnation and the saving action of God entering the world in the infant Jesus, it is no different than limiting the meaning of John’s words to his physical reality of imprisonment.  To do this is to miss everything. 

We can almost always assume that there is more to be experienced than what we can see around us.  By God’s grace and our openness to this spiritual reality, I think that we, like John, can find great hope in moving from confinement to freedom, from earth to heaven.

August 20, 2012, Feral Children & Formation

I tuned into an interview the other day on EWTN’s Bookmark.  The author being interviewed was Dr. Robert Royal.  It was an old interview from 2009 and he was discussing his book The God That Did Not Fail: How Religion Built and Sustains the West. (I have never read it.)

But just in passing, during the interview, he mentioned the communication problem of feral children.  Being unfamiliar, and naturally curious, I decided to see who these children are.

Quite disturbing, actually, they were defined on a neuroscience website as children “who have been abandoned or lost in the wilderness and have spent a significant amount of their formative years there.”  These children the website explains, “have lived without any direct human contact and often with the aid of wild animals who have adopted them into their groups.”

Basically, they tend to imitate the wild animals they live with and are extremely deficient in the area of communication.  Dr. Royal commented during the interview that “they do not speak and it is hard to teach them because there are certain things that must take place first.”

According to the website, these children “fail to develop normal human communication skills as a result of growing up in social isolation without proper models. Such skills are dependent upon continuous hearing, observation, mimicking and reinforcement to develop properly.”

In connecting the learning process of feral children isolated from “proper models,” a parallel can be drawn to religious formation, for without having such models from whom children can learn the things of faith through observation and imitation, they will experience some deficiency in developing a strong relationship with God.

While there are many exceptions to this, to be sure, as witnessed by so many people who come to faith without having been raised in it, the normative process by which faith develops naturally is greatly enhanced by the opportunity to observe and imitate those who practice it. 

In regards to communication, I believe there is a “language” of faith.  People who work in ministry and religious education are often steeped in this language.  Words and references that are so very familiar to us often sound foreign to others. This can create a serious gap between the message we want to convey and how it is received if we are not careful to lay the necessary groundwork first.  In other words, “certain things must take place first.”

A good place for this to happen is during RCIA sessions.  RCIA stands for the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults and it is a process of discernment for people who are considering becoming Catholic.  The first step is very easy and there is no obligation. In these sessions you will meet people who are excited about the faith and very enthusiastic about sharing it with you.  They are not there to convince you to become Catholic, so they do not apply any pressure.

You will be amazed at the stories your fellow inquirers will share and both the simplicity, and the depth, of the questions asked.  It is truly a beautiful process, and a healthy process for the family as well.

If either you, or your spouse, has not been baptized, or were baptized in another church, RCIA is the place to be.  This exploratory process into the faith is truly life-giving and it is the best gift you could ever give your family. Many people start the sessions for their spouse, but I warn you, by the time you have gone through the process, you will no longer be doing it for them, but for yourself.

Most likely your local Catholic Church will be starting these sessions in the next few weeks.  I encourage you to give them a call and check it out.  For now, just set aside all of the excuses you have acquired for putting this off.  Your RCIA director will help lift the veil on those areas of concern that may be in your way.  Trust me, you will be welcomed with such joy that you will find yourself wondering why you ever waited so long.

 

August 6, 2012, Movies, Bikes & The Eucharist

I was walking by our youngest daughter the other night when she was watching a movie.  “What are you watching?” I asked. Wrath of the Titans came the reply.  We exchanged knowing glances as I passed by, securing her thoughts that she would be watching it alone.  I have never been into mythology so I dismissed it without question.

She invited my husband to watch it with her, and he did.  As I passed back through the room, I caught one of the scenes and was amazed by the graphics.  The crashing boulders and fire and drama--all flashing before my eyes—grabbed my attention.

After standing there for a few minutes, I was sold.  A bowl of popcorn and a couple of hours later, the movie was done and my attention had held through it all.

I wonder how many things I have missed over the years simply because it wasn’t something that interested me, things that I have established in my mind that are not “me.”  I suspect I am not alone in doing this.  It seems easy to put limits on ourselves, doesn’t it?

For instance, my husband was talking to a guy the other night about the rails-to-trails bike paths.  Made from old railroad beds, they are a unique biking experience through small towns and nature’s beauty.  

While I would love to do this, I have always been a little afraid that these trails would be too hard for me, what with their 3% grade and my history of arthritis.

I know, I know, 3% is probably next to nothing, and my arthritis is in remission, but still, it seems like it would be too much.  And since one day, many, many years ago I joined my husband at the local recreation area and attempted some very hilly areas on my mountain bike (which I thought would kill me on the spot), I am certain today that I should probably never again attempt anything new.

Okay, I’m exaggerating, I’m not that bad, but my point is, it is easy to miss out on life because of that memory card we carry in our back pocket that we allow to shape our actions today.  It is a mistake to do this when it prevents us from being fully engaged in life.  Life here on earth, although imperfect and lacking the beatific vision we hope to one day enjoy in heaven, is still a gift to be embraced and one for which to be grateful.

And speaking of grateful, during Mass the other day when the prayers for the bread and wine were being offered and thanksgiving was being given to God for providing it, I was struck by the realization that we would not even have the sacrifice of the Mass were it not for God providing the “fruit of the earth and the work of human hands.”

How wonderful is this life in Christ that we share and how great our appreciation should be for all he has done for us. It is easy to forget that our life, in its entirety, is a gift from God.  The people that we share it with, the material possessions we enjoy—the very fact that we even have faith—are gifts.  Even the sufferings and challenges we experience are not outside his loving embrace.

A life lived in appreciation, with a loving heart full of gratitude, is simply a return, an offering back to God, for that which he has given.

Like the bread and wine which we offer back to him for the Eucharistic sacrifice, he can transform our lives into something more beautiful than we can ever imagine—if we are willing to cooperate without setting conditions.

So let us remember, if we wait for the crashing boulders and fire and drama to grab our attention, we will be too late, for right now, today, is the best time to be thankful!

July 23, 2012, Tator Tots

I don’t get Tator Tots^®.  What I mean is, I don’t understand why people like them.  That little, deep-fried barrel of fake potato, to me, just doesn’t have much flavor, and the little flavor it does have is a far cry from any real potato I’ve ever tasted.  Of course, that’s just my opinion.

Be that as it may, I still, of my own volition, took a free sampling of a local restaurant’s version at lunch one day. I was not impressed.  They were no better than any potato barrel that has come before it. In fact, I thought it was worse than the ones you bake at home.

Looking at the outside of the infamous tots, I always think I will like them—but I never do.  

 
Now the exact opposite is true for those who look at the church from the outside.  Typically, they are happily surprised.  After listening to the cultural voice of the day, they think they know what to expect, but when they delve deeper into the Church, they are usually shocked that what they thought they knew is often not reality.

For example, some may think the Church is out-dated and requires its members to mindlessly follow a rigid set of rules; they are usually surprised to learn just how relevant the Church actually is, that its members are thoughtful people and that there is great freedom in practicing the faith.

 
Here in the church, our deepest longings are satisfied.  If we center our lives on the seven sacraments and the truth of God’s plan, Jesus’ fulfillment of it and how the Church continues it, everything begins to make sense.

But I realized one day that looking from the outside in, one might not understand why we do many of the things we do.  More disconcerting, however, is the fact that we (on the inside) often do not understand it very well ourselves.  That needs to change; perhaps we can learn a thing or two from our brothers and sisters in The South. 

Speaking about Catholics flowing into Protestant Churches, Father Jay Scott Newman, Pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Greenville, S.C., said:

“. . . .those who are casual cultural and cafeteria Catholics quickly become either ex-Catholics or evangelical Catholics, and that is paradoxically one of the reasons why our congregation and many other Southern parishes are flourishing: The unique challenge for Catholics seeking to live their Christian faith in the South leaves no room for spiritual mediocrity, doctrinal confusion, uncertain commitments or a lukewarm interior life.”  (ncregister.com, July 1, 2012)

Could it be that we have fallen into a lukewarm practice of our faith and that until we are required to explain and defend it we may remain so?

If the time ever comes when we are required to do so, will we be ready?

I would propose that the time has come, and to a large extent, we are not ready. I think the leadership of the Church is doing a good job trying to prepare us for this much-needed evangelization, but the laypeople of the church are going to really need to step into the game.

We don’t need a theologian’s understanding of the teachings of the Church, but we do need to be able to give witness to our love of Jesus, the Sacramental mysteries we live, and, perhaps, a good dose of old-fashioned zeal.

Our participation in the life of the Church, where we become equipped with the tools necessary to live out our baptismal call of love should be evident.

 
I would suggest that each of us commits to being more accountable, that we strive to learn something new we can share, every day, and that we find it within ourselves to make any necessary life changes that will more closely align us with God.

 
It is my hope that whenever anyone takes a closer look at the Church, that what they find on the inside stands in great contrast to any negative expectations they may bring with them.

The On-Ramp, July 9, 2012

The other day I was on the on-ramp of the expressway trying to enter the flow of traffic while following a slow-moving car.  Honestly, some people have no idea how to get on an expressway! 

It’s a strange dance we do. 

Some people creep along at their own pace and surprise everyone at the last moment by fitting in.

Other people fly in quickly, and just as fast, they are gone.

Then there are those, like the guy I was following that day, who move in, find their place, but still do not pay much attention to the people around them.

The easy ones are those whose entrance is smooth, they make appropriate adjustments, and remain happily in the pack they have entered.

It reminds me of the initiation process into the church--The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults--or RCIA for short.

Like an expressway on-ramp, everyone’s entry into the church is unique. Some people pace themselves and need processing time.  Others arrive almost breathless, ready to move in quickly. Some people come but don’t really attach, and, of course, there are those who have been ready for years and find themselves at home almost immediately.

What we sometimes don’t realize is that Baptism is the true mode of entry into the Church.  Far too often we don’t understand why we need it and we remain unaware of its impact over the course of our lifetime.

Baptism isn’t something we do just because it’s a nice thing to do. We don’t do it so parents can show off their baby, dress him up cute and have a party.  Nobody thinks that, I’m sure.

Neither is it something we do because we have to.  Who would approach baptism with the idea that once it’s done they’ve fulfilled an obligation and they don’t need to come to church anymore?  Nobody does that, right?

Hopefully, those who come to baptism, or bring their children to baptism, recognize the power of the sacrament.  They probably understand that the water used in baptism is a sign of both death and life.  Death, because we leave our old selves behind, and life because we enter into a new life with God.  Blessed water, poured over the one seeking baptism, when accompanied by the Trinity in the words “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” changes lives.

Do you remember the scripture passage that speaks of the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan (Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 3, Verse 13)? Jesus didn’t need baptism to cleanse him from sin like we do, since he was sinless.  But, in that Trinitarian event (where the Father spoke, the Holy Spirit was revealed in the form of a Dove and Jesus was present), we learn the significance of baptism. Just being born does not make us members of the People of God.

Have you been floating along okay in life?  Maybe you don’t see any point to being baptized.  Family’s good, job’s okay, you have some fun here and there. It’s all good, right?

Well, all of those things I just described are related to what?  The here and now.  None of it--the family, fun or work--has the innate power to lead you to God after you die.  Now I don’t want to shock you, but you are going to die someday, and then what?

There is a real grace that comes with the Sacrament of Baptism and we respond to our baptismal call throughout our whole life. It is very easy for this beautiful life on earth that God has given us, to actually distract us from the reality that after we die, we are going to go somewhere.   Whether you believe it or not doesn’t change the reality.

Do you imagine that life on earth is everything?  Are you standing in stubbornness, for the most part ignoring God?  Are you trying to meet God on your own terms, in your own time? 

We are not self-created. Our very existence is owed to God. He calls each of us continuously; whether we respond or not is up to us.  Most people are amazed at how wonderful it is to live this life fully awake, fully alive in God, once they make the decision to do so.

Jesus began his public ministry by demonstrating our need for baptism.   We enter into the life of the church through baptism and this leads to an increased desire to love God and become witnesses to him.  Baptism is very powerful.

If you want to learn more about baptism or entry into the Catholic Church, all you need to do is talk to your Priest, Deacon, or your parish Director of RCIA.  It is our hope that in our enthusiastic response to our own baptism, coupled with the power of God’s grace, you will find an attractive, living example that says,”Come join us!  This is great!”