Chapter 4: What Are the Instruments of Good Works? May 19

1. In the first place, to love the Lord God with the whole heart, the whole soul, the whole strength. 
2. Then, one's neighbor as oneself.
3. Then not to murder.
4. Not to commit adultery.
5. Not to steal.
6. Not to covet.
7. Not to bear false witness.
8. To honor all (1 Peter 2:17).
9. And not to do to another what one would not have done to oneself.
10. To deny oneself in order to follow Christ.
11. To chastise the body.
12. Not to become attached to pleasures.
13. To love fasting.
14. To relieve the poor.
15. To clothe the naked.
16. To visit the sick.
17. To bury the dead.
18. To help in trouble.
19. To console the sorrowing.
20. To become a stranger to the world's ways.
21. To prefer nothing to the love of Christ. *************************************************
For the next couple of reflections we are going to get a lesson on the definition of good works. In Latin they are Opera Bono. There is much in this rule to consider, enough to break the reflection into three parts

Part 1
The first two are obvious. They are to love the Lord with all we have and to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. In truth, we fully lived out these two precepts, the remainder of the list are really just window dressing or reminders of things to consider as we contemplate Opera Bono.

We next encounter a line of things to avoid taken from the Old Testament 10 Commandments. This is not a list for someone with a shrinking attitude toward service. There are some real whoppers just in the first 21. To honor all? It was one thing to grudgingly love someone who irritates you but to honor them? Ugh. We are not to be attached to pleasures. What does this mean? Pleasures like a good cup of coffee or a bite of Tillamook Moose Tracks Ice Cream? How about watching a movie or eating a good rib-eye steak grilled to perfection. Just what is meant here?

We continue. To chastise the body. Come again? We have to beyond avoiding pleasures and this as well? How about visit the sick. Who really likes to be around sick people? And as for burying the dead. There are people who do that kind of thing. Not me. Never have but I guess I best not say I never will. Another shoe is no doubt going to drop at some point.

I don't mind the concept of feeding and clothing those in need. I can hand off money and old clothes as well as anyone. To help in trouble and to console the sorrowing aren't really that difficult. Are they? What if I cannot chose to any of those things according my time frame and or desires? Then it will get tough. Really tough.

Part 2
Finally we get to 20 and 21. These two stop me cold.

So cold, in fact that I did not finish my comments on this section when I first danced with this chapter in January. What stopped me? I suppose the idea of becoming a stranger to the ways of the world puzzled me because from the moment we begin to venture out into the world beyond the grasp of mother's hand, we are expected to learn the ways of society, culture, church, community which are all part of the world. To enter into the the life of a monastery, we have to put all that we know about the world aside, actually to it all behind and to learn only what we need to know about living by the rule and to enter into the community of God.

Who the Broncos selected in the draft, what the mayor said about trimming trees along the boulevard, what my neighbors planted in their garden, what the British parliament is doing about Brexit are no longer important. What is important is if the beans we planted are popping up as they should, will enough rain fall today or will we need to water, or how my neighbor is recovering well from her surgery. I can bring her soup if she is hungry. I can't stop the crises at the border. I can feed the birds that visit my yard but I can't stop one single abortion today or, more importantly, turn around the despair of a pregnant women so she will find a better a choice than to end the life within her. I can pray for all such women and I do.

To live a consecrated life within the walls of a monastery makes it easier, I think, to become a stranger to all that is outside. To live in the world and have to engage the variety of people I do during the course of the day makes being a stranger difficult. In fact, I suspect we have to become very specific about ways which we should follow and which we should not. The people I encounter are my responsibility. God has called us to love one another and love by its nature builds togetherness which results in familiarity, the opposite of strangeness.

There are some, no, many ways of the world to which I would like to become a stranger and there is no doubt those ways like to have me be a stranger.

Part 3
Number 21 is the most striking of the lot. To prefer nothing to the love of Christ says it all. Everything else we do, or do not do, supports or detracts from this goal. The love of Christ is the highest summit, the deepest abyss and the farthest point of our travels in search of a life in him. Nothing else matters, or, for most of us, should matter. We struggle with this, we stumble and fall, slip and slide forward and back but also side to side. Sometimes we feel we are getting to the point where we can say we prefer nothing to that love but then cock crows and we realize we have been deceiving ourselves. Like Peter, we know our pride and ego have betrayed and instead of being humble we are humiliated. I prefer nothing else to his love but how difficult is to focus to the point of the exclusion of all else on that love.

In the crazy chaos of life, our preference must not be made but once but we need to make a choice everyday, not just once a day, but every time we are exposed to an alternative to that love and this happens every moment of our wakefulness.

As I write this, my attention drifts out the window before me and I watch the magpies jump from branch to branch in the tree in front of me. They pop down to the the feeder which has been emptied of peanuts earlier in the day. Still they check over and over again. Once magpie, a large male has perched on branch directly in front of me and is staring in at me, cocking his head first left and then right over and over again. I know he sees me. He knows I see him. He wants more peanuts but they have given all they will get in one day.

The love is Christ is not like this little drama. I have been given everything I need not just for now at this moment but for my entire life. My gifts to the birds are not like that at all. The big male, whom I call Ringo, is hoping for something more from me. He will be disappointed just I will be disappointed if I place my hopes in the things of the world. The peanuts I offer are just a small part of what Ringo needs to consume in day. Somedays I don't feed them at all. Nothing of this world can replace the gifts of love from the God, our creator, Christ, our savior which come to us in the soft winds of the Holy Spirit.

Ringo, frustrated with me, chatters at me, scolding me and flies off. I turn my attention back to the love of Christ though which I have the capacity to engage in his creation. This is one of the gifts of choosing to prefer nothing but the love of Christ

Good Friday - Always, We Begin Again

The voyage of discovery does not begin when I know my type but truly begins now, before I know my type. I can't uncover where I am going until I knowing my point of departure.

These words came this morning before my day began to unfold in ways that surprised me. It does not matter what Enneagram type I am. What does matter is how I use the knowledge as  tool rather than to use it as an excuse.

In the darkness of the Good Friday Service, the time when our faith reaches its lowest moment, a time of sorrow and grief at the scourging and death of our Lord, Jesus Christ, I began sense something new stirring with my soul. I have been searching, studying, reading, investigating and praying for an understanding of where my life originates, where it is today and, finally, where it is going. There have been moments of clarity but they have been far too few. There has been hours, even days of struggle and pain but the troubles never seem to grow out of single, or even, a limited number of sources. Yes, there has been happiness, joy, contentedness and peace along the way, enough to lure into action when I have grown lazy, reluctant or, even angry and resistant to continue the journey.

I have never asked the questions of origination, course or destiny. I was sought caught up in the turmoil or comfort of any particular day, I never considered there was purpose for journey or reason I was granted the life companions given me. There was only the present moment and each consequent moment was sculpted by feelings, intuitions or emotions that endlessly bubbled up from deep down and from far back inside me.

When I use my eyes to see, I see reality, things as they really are, when I use my ears, what I hear is also reality. Vision and sound are recorded into memory like they can be captured by technology. What I touch is also very real. I can describe what senses detect, share the description and have another person confirm that we touch is very real, very much present and completely objective.

I have learned, however, the filters I use to record the metaphysical and relational experiences are not objective. At times what I am feeling is right on the moment but that is, as I have reluctantly learned, rare. I am left without a sense of the world around me, the people in it and how I relate to them. People trigger emotions of sadness, comfort, anger, loneliness, yearning, joy, contentment or even simple passive sense of peace and tranquility. Yes people trigger how I feel but I have to learn how to respond to feelings by putting them in a box and evaluate them like a memory. They are what they are but they are rarely real.

I am inclined to see myself as being unique and defective. If I can’t trust my perception of the world, what can I trust? Still, I have heard over and over again how we all think of ourselves as unique and different and rules that apply to others should not apply to us. Uniqueness is limited by the commonality of how we see the world. Yes every leaf on a tree is unique but only when viewed from greatly restricted viewpoint. We are leaves on the tree, different but the same.

So what did I feel stirring during the service?

When I reflected on my exhaustive search for knowledge and insight, I was reminded that even in those rare moments when I realize my addiction to more – more information, I don’t take enough time to step and ask why I continue to search and, even more importantly, do I already know enough. Enough of what? If I can’t answer the question, it is time to pause and reflect. There is more out there than I could learn in a thousand lifetimes so I can’t drink up the ocean of knowledge, what cup do I need to drink to have enough to do whatever it is I am supposed to do. That is another question to consider but that is more than I can tackle today.

I sat next to a dear friend and her husband. They had with them their infant grandson. He gurgled, cooed and uttered all manner of sweet noise we so love about our infants, noises , that like scent, touch and sight cause us to bond to our children and grandchildren. As I watched and listened, I reflected on the coming new life in our family and I began sense a sense of completeness, but not a completion of my life, of our life.

I recall during the long course of my life, I wondered what the future would bring. When I was in High school, I wondered by adult life and if I would ever find a wife. Then, when we were married and the course of our life was unfolding I wondered about children and I remembered that just when it seemed hopeless, hope was renewed and we had a family. For the last 30+ years, I wondered about the next step, grandchildren. For a long time it did not seem there was hope but then, suddenly, there was hope and then, a while later, there is more than hope, there is a promise.

In truth, I am already a grandparent now, even before seeing or holding my, our, granddaughter, just I was already a father before I held my living, breathing, incarnate son. I am now waiting, however, for the next stage to arrive. I watched the exchange of love between a grandmother and her grandson and so the sparkle each had for the other. I relish the day when I see that exchange between my grandchild and my wife and, I scarcely dare to say, I embrace the thought of coming day when I will look into her eyes and she into mine. I best be about the business of defining and accepting who she will be looking at when the day comes.

For months I have struggled with the struggle. Every step I take seems to be faltering and I slide often slide back before the next step can be taken. I am ready to give up. Not quit. Not abandon my journey or turn my back on my destiny. I just want to stop fighting, stop searching, stop debating, stop seeing one thing one day as being the right choice, the right direction only to pursue something completely different the next day.

I have been called into Silence. I am certain of that. I long for Solitude but that is elusive and rare. What I need is Stillness, a place of calm and peace where my true self can turn from the delusion of the false self and grow toward Christ and last peace and a fullness of spirit to be man I have always been called to become.

There is a growing sense within me that I know what I need to know but now I need to discover how to use what I know to follow his path and plan for me. These gifts are not just for me to hold onto jealously but like all gifts of the spirit that are delivered by grace through mercy, they are meant to be shared.

I don’t know what looks like yet but this much is revealed to me again. I became a Benedictine for a reason. It is time for me to life like a monk to the extent I can and should to meet the needs of my world, my people, my family.

Benedict always says, always we begin again.

The Big Ugly "A"

I have attempted to narrowly restrict my energy on a burden that, like an timeless ember that is never spent but lies in the hearth of my soul. It is always there. While there are times when I am not distracted by it, it is still there, waiting to burst into flame and consume whatever tranquility might be in play.

It, of course, is anger. I don't like it. I don't want it. It serves me no good purpose. It is, like any fire, that rages out unrestricted, destructive. If I could drown it with God given peace and serenity I would do so but so far I have had only fleeting and minimal success.

This topic comes to the forefront now because anger has been haunting me in the realm of social media. I am pro-life. Completely, totally and without limitation. Abortion should be eliminated without exception. My perception is that anyone who is pro-abortion is morally bankrupt because they facilitate evil by advocating the existence of a choice to end the life of a baby. I reserve a special rage, cultivated over time, for Catholics who are pro-abortion, particularly Catholic politicians in legislatures, congress, in executive positions or members of a court. If there were another level to my fury, it would be reserved for judges and justices who fail to apply the law in a way the represents the moral fabric of our faith.

I am also concerned about end of life issues, referring to euthanasia and assisted suicide. I  believe there is nothing but the most gauzy of fabric separating a society where there is not only a right to die but a duty to die. Just look at what is happening in Belgium and the Netherlands. Also, consider the circumstances in Oregon where a terminally ill person was refused treatment by the state Medicaid office but in the same letter of denial was offered the option of assisted suicide.

The anger over life issues is not new but it has grown over the years as an increasingly secular society nudges closure and closer to normalizing abortion at any term of pregnancy and the expansion of when euthanasia and assisted suicide are permissible.

I don't believe it is strictly a religious belief to say no one has the right to take a life, any life for any reason beyond the exceptions expressly laid out in the Catechism.

The furious efforts of state legislatures to remove any semblance of restrictions on abortion fanned the flames of my indignation and they have been consuming me ever since. The fact a Catholic governor and 10 Catholic senators have taken positions counter to the church has been aggravatingly infuriating.

While this kind of anger is referred to as moral anger, righteous anger, I have come to think of is a big A anger. The kind of anger that holds a noble purpose with an end goal promoting change that would create a culture of life where a culture of death is becoming increasingly and insidiously pervasive. A God permitted anger with a high minded purpose.

Unfortunately it is still anger and anger in general, call it small "a" anger is a poison for me. After succumbing to the temptation to engage with the world out there, I came to the decision the first step in fighting little "a" anger is to not give breathe to big "A" anger. As is said in the AA Big Book, there are those who can handle self-righteous anger without risk of personal damage but we who are alcoholic cannot. For us unbridled anger leads to resentment and resentment leads to drink.

In order rob the fire of fuel, I deactivated my Facebook account thereby removing the primary source of my exposure to things that inflame me. It is a shame it came to that because Facebook also had benefits related to social contact with friends and family. I miss the daily banter about children, pets, travel, sports and even the stupid pet memes but I don't miss the constant barrage of political and religious commentary. I found postings with both liberal and conservative slants irritating and pointless. While there was a limited amount of thoughtful, nuanced and considerate debate, most postings were insulting, inflammatory and, quite often, ridiculously inaccurate.

I have wandered far astray. My goal was to find a way to blunt or deflect my anger against the pro-choice community and to make peace with, it galls me to admit, pro-choice Catholics. I want to give those who are genuinely in agreement that compassion grows from choice the same grace I want to be given. While there is virtually no chance I will be able to sway someone from one side to the other, at least I want to find a way to reach some level of harmony.

There is no doubt I have become too invested in abortion when I look at people I see out in the world and wonder if they pro-choice or pro-life. I even wonder sometimes if a woman has had an abortion. If the numbers are to believed, 3 women of every 10 I see in a grocery store has either had an abortion or considered it regardless of whether they are Catholic or not. Some people make value judgements about other people based upon age, race, sex, religion, identification, body type or even hair color. Not me. None of those things make any difference. My soul concern is about their position on life issues. That, I have come to realize, it is not acceptable.

As I research the issue online I find references to moral outrage being not only appropriate but is an expected response to issues like abortion. I have said already it might be ok for others but I don't want something I literally have not control over to play such a dominate role in my life. I know that finding commonality and joint concern is more important in long run but I struggle with how to get there.

Little "a" anger is a much broader and deeper for me than big "A" anger. It is something I have to overcome to preserve vital relationships and, just as importantly, to find a peaceful niche in life.

Now that I have made a deliberate and intentional intention to turn from a path that is a straight collision course with things that set me off, I need to make another decision. I pretend I don't the answer but I do. Deflection and denial are pointless. Everything I have learned makes my next step disconcertingly clear. The next step is acceptance.

I have to accept there is deep divide over life issues in our culture and our world and that equally compassionate and concerned people populate both sides of the chasm. I have to accept that large number people who are important to me and bring value and meaning to life are on the other side. The breech will never be healed, the debate will never be resolved. I am not sure there is any kind of acceptable compromise possible. I have to accept that. All I can do is pray about it and let the Holy Spirit do what the Holy Spirit intends.

The next step after acceptance is let go. How can I truly live my faith as a Catholic and Christian if I don't let go? To not let go is something called practical atheism. How can I say I believe in God when I don't let God be God?

What struck me today is the answer to anger, if I really want to be rid of it, is to accept what angers me and then to let go. I spent a year studying Meister Eckhart and I take to heart everything he taught about letting go so there will be less and less of me which is devoted to my false self so there will be more more space for God to inhabit me so I can be my true self to degree we can forgive our foibles and quirks.

I will not give up on creating a culture of life but I long to choose a path where I can lead with compassion, patience and understanding and with a consist ethic that does not smack of shallowness or ignorance.

I can't just focus on big "A" anger but I have to also work on little "a" anger as well. It is the root of the problem, my real enemy. I pray, God help me to set aside annoyance and irritation which are the kindling fuel a destructive burst of anger. I humbly and desperately pray for this.

Again, acceptance is the answer.

Let the work begin. 

Wrestling with Facebook

It has been a decade now since I was suckered into getting on Facebook by a highly addictive game, Farm Town. Remember that game? It was not long before the game was forgotten because as I crept over 20 and then 30 friends, the number of wall postings began to draw my attention. They got me. I am sure that was the primary purpose of the game was to provoke gameplayers into getting their friends to join so they could get more crops or whatever.

At first, I really enjoyed Facebook. My friends posted the kind of things you would want to know. Kid events, past time pictures, vacation news, life changes and so on. People I used to interact with on a daily basis were suddenly right there again. I enjoyed it.

As time went by and the number of friends increased, so did my time scanning my wall but that was ok with me. I have never been a frequent poster although I did like to use the like button, pardon the pun.

I don’t remember how long it was before the bloom came off the rose and sourness entered the world of Facebook. One day someone posted a political statement approving of in supporting a position that was poison to me. I don't recall any post of a political or religious nature that was in tune with my own sympathies prior to that but perhaps that was I was not shocked by what I saw.

This particular posting fired me up. I felt as though something special was lost. It did not take long for me to become sensitive to all posts on controversial subjects regardless of perspective or whether was in agreement or disagreement with them. I just did not think FB was the forum for such things. I am not innocent at all. I admit sometimes I got engaged in support of what I believe to be the truth and I am sure others were just antagonized by me as I was in the first place. That is the way our adversarial culture works. Meaningful dialogue that can be had person to person is lost in the din of polarizing noise.

The thing about all this is that getting riled up and throwing hand grenades of my own is not good for me. Being angry and frustrated is a direct threat to my health and my sobriety. I wish I was better at keeping an open mind or being able to let others say their piece without either taking it personally or, worse yet, engaging in a way that betrays my desire to maintain composure but it seems that over time I lose my balance and off we go. When I find myself searching for things beyond what I commonly encounter that either supports my beliefs or further enrage me, it is time to make a change.

Consider this. I have not come across anything on Facebook that has impacted my beliefs in any way expect that I may have become more entrenched and resolute than before. I have no doubt I have not any impact on anyone else so the net result calls to mind Act 5, Scene 5 of Macbeth:

"(Life) is a a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

The question is how long I will continue to play the idiot's game, trading sword swings against those with whom I should try to find commonality instead of wedging us further and further apart. I fear nothing of value will come of all this and I inevitably will annihilate my serenity.

What remains is for me to step away and let the tempest in my psyche boil away into spent hollowness so the calm where serenity grows will flourish. As is often said in a 12 step program I admire, half measures availed us nothing.

Beannachtach agus síocháin    Blessings and peace.

June 7, 2019 - Postscript: I am still off Facebook. I have no plans to ever return.

Phillip and the Eunuch

Acts 8:26-35

Then the angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, “Get up and head south on the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza, the desert route.” So he got up and set out. Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, that is, the queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury, who had come to Jerusalem to worship, and was returning home. Seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. The Spirit said to Philip, “Go and join up with that chariot.” Philip ran up and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet and said, “Do you understand what you are reading?” He replied, “How can I, unless someone instructs me?” So he invited Philip to get in and sit with him. This was the scripture passage he was reading: 

“Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and as a lamb before its shearer is silent, so he opened not his mouth. In (his) humiliation justice was denied him. Who will tell of his posterity? For his life is taken from the earth.” 

Then the eunuch said to Philip in reply, “I beg you, about whom is the prophet saying this? About himself, or about someone else?” Then Philip opened his mouth and, beginning with this scripture passage, he proclaimed Jesus to him. As they traveled along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “Look, there is water. What is to prevent my being baptized?” Then he ordered the chariot to stop, and Philip and the eunuch both went down into the water, and he baptized him.

*************************************

When Phillip woke up that morning, he had no idea where the day would lead him. The scripture does not share any details with us. Was Phillip brushing his teeth, stirring his tea or, perhaps, making a grocery list. All we know is the angel of the Lord spoke to him and gave him some very specific instructions. My first thought was, “How nice. Phillip gets a nice action plan to follow but the rest of us must play 20 questions about we are supposed to do, and we never really know if we hit on the right answer or not. We, most certainly, find out if we made the wrong choice.

On the other hand, if the angel were to speak to me and give me instructions to head out to Montana City and drive up McClellan Creek Road, I might be just a little bit on the balky side. “Say what? Go where? In this snow storm? Really? Ok, I will leave first thing in the morning. What do you mean, “leave now?” I know there is good measure of Jonah luring beneath the surface in me and I suspect I am not alone.

What is the message that is important for us to learn as leaders of the local Journey movement? We never know when we will have the opportunity to bear witness to the gospel. There are some many challenges we encounter every day. Some of them may be up close and sudden like Phillip and the Eunuch or they may be happening in other parts of the country and they seem intensely personal to us based upon our framework and outlook. 

The answer to the question from Isaiah about who will tell his posterior is very simple. It is us. It is, indeed, us.

On Retreat - More thoughts

Mary. 

A foot of snow lies on top of the a lichen splotched stone wall standing waist height, curving from the door of the dining room around to the stone hut with a chalet roofed Grotto to Mary. 

I see part of her in the grotto but she also stands here in the dining room, in the corner by the window. 

She watches me and I feel her presence. I wonder if my way to love him is to also love her and ask her help to lead me to him? 

Does she stand for someone in my life whom I should honor first? Does she me remind me to consider my marriage? I think of the first miracle of Jesus, the wedding at Cana. She urged him then to step into his calling. Does she urge me to remember my calling and understand the role of the first woman in my life. Someone who would teach me, support me, encourage me, push me? It is she. 

I know I am resistant to being vulnerable and open to receive the gifts offered. I seek to burn them out of me.

On Retreat - Sycamore Tree

Words.

Words are coming to me as a gift of the spirit through the musings of Thomas Merton. Words come to me like the nickel sized flakes of snow falling, falling and falling down all day. The words flutter and I try to capture many but they disappear like the flakes when they touch my nose or fingers. I see them but then they are gone. Only few remain behind lying softly on my presence, working their slow descent deeper into my reality.

It is no mistake that I left the book I planned to use a focus of the weekend  home. This forced me to instead begin with his poetry and prose. In the reading words have come to me.

Place. What is the place where I am today? Where is it emotionally, spiritually and physically?

Going. Where I am going? How am I to travel?

Patience. A gift for which I cry out to the Spirit.

Humility. Something I seek but don’t know how to find.

Calling. I seek the quiet to hear his voice. I pray that my heart will be softened that I will not just hear his voice but listen.

Listen.

Obey.

Gift.

Mercy.

Jesus, a name for God that I can grasp.

Love. I want to love him as I do anyone else, more than anyone else. The way I love my wife, family, my friends but more so, so much more so I wish to empty out that I may be filled with him. Being filled with him will allow me to be so much more for those I love.