Hopefully Move Forward

The last year has been lovely.  God has shed His grace upon me.  Through His grace, He has empowered me to do His will.  I feel that I have done what He sent me here to do.  And so it seems that the time has come to move on from here.  

And so on January 1 I will move back to the hermitage.  I feel God is calling me back there. 

I imagine you are wondering how this conclusion intersects with my previous discernment to leave the hermitage.  

Although I did not explicitly say so, when I left the hermitage to serve poor persons, I was overwhelmingly focused on rejoining the Peace Corps.  I re-applied to the Peace Corps near the end of 2015, and in early 2016, Peace Corps informed me that they could not offer me a position.  

I applied or at least inquired with other organizations serving impoverished people abroad.  Either I didn't hear back at all, or at other times it didn't work out with those other organizations.  
Thus in time I came to realize that one reason I left the hermitage, to serve poor persons overseas, was not materializing.  I let it go, and so the path I thought I was following turned out to be taking me not as far away as I had envisioned.  

Since it started becoming clear I wouldn't be moving to another country again, I began to ponder serving poor folks here in the states.  Having been a Catholic Worker in San Jose before I moved into the hermitage,  I began to think about once again being a Catholic Worker.  

After a brief stint last summer filling in for my friends at Casa de Clara, the San Jose Catholic Worker House, I moved in here at the Redwood City Catholic Worker House.  After not too long, I began to get to know homeless folks here in Redwood City.  I came to witness the sense of community amongst those living on the streets here.  I became much closer with them than I had ever felt with homeless folks anywhere else.  And so I have felt much fulfillment as I have served people living on the streets here.  

And yet I have gradually, steadily, increasingly felt more and more spiritually malnourished despite how I have continued the spiritual practices I deepened at the hermitage.  I read Scripture.  I attend Mass.  Yet I have consistently felt that God has been calling me back into more solitude, more silence, more stillness, more contemplation.  I have felt that God has been calling me back into the deep prayer which monastic life fosters, and then will flow whatever service to poor folks naturally, organically arises out of monastic life.  

I feel too that God has given me the grace to make vows to Him.  I know that I can make vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to Him.  If I were not to do so, I would be wasting graces God has given to me.  If you know me well, you know well that I cannot stand wasting what God has given to us.  God has given us marvelous gifts: we should not only appreciate and use well His gifts, but thank and praise and adore and glorify God who gives us such magnificent gifts.  Out of gratitude to Him, I do not wish to be the servant who buries in the ground a coin or coins he has received from his Master.*  I do not wish to be the servant who wraps up in a cloth the coin He has received from His Master.**  

I used to think that God had not empowered me to make a vow of chastity.  Perhaps I was correct.  What I do know is that at times I have prayed to God for grace, and He has given it to me.  I have recalled how Our Blessed Mother Mary told Saint Catherine of Laboure that so many people do not receive certain graces because they do not ask for them.  I have seen for myself how it is true that you can receive a grace you have not had if you but ask for it.  

And so I will be moving on with a desire to use well what God has given to me.  I wish to invest well the talents God has given me, so that I may make more,*** just as Jesus teaches us to do.  

I look forward to trying to use well the gifts God has given to me.  I face forward into the future, though parting under these circumstances is bittersweet, and not just for me.  

I think of the homeless woman who once again I'll call "Kimberly."  She has shared her pain with me, and so she and I have come to appreciate each other.  Despite her sorrow, she has expressed to me that she wants to understand my reasons for leaving, and the goals I hope to reach, so that she can better support me in my decision to leave here.  

I think too of the homeless woman who again I'll call "Anna."  As she has been considering my moving away, in the context of how she has been well aware that she must repent and do her best to sin no more, she has confidently proclaimed that at the very least, she will see me again in eternity.  

I am greatly consoled by these mature words of faith, hope and love.  I am encouraged by the spiritual growth these words of sureness convey.  I am comforted as I adjust to leaving here, knowing that such faith resides amongst those who are homeless here.  

Thus I know that I am not deluding myself when I say that I have seen homeless persons rising up here.  I can move on since I have seen real growth and progress among them.  

I am reminded that recently a certain homeless woman who I'll once again call "Jane" showed up here at the Catholic Worker House.  She had rung the doorbell, and in speaking with a Catholic Worker here, she expressed gratitude, saying, "Thank you for helping me to rise up."  Jane too has been rising up from where she had been, to a better place, proven by the gratitude she has expressed.  

I have also seen with my own eyes how a certain woman, who I'll call "Helen," has also moved forward in her life.  Helen used to be homeless.  Now she lives in her own apartment, which I have seen.  I need not doubt her progress, which is evident.  

I hear and see all this proof of rising up with my own ears and with my own eyes.  As my time here draws to a close, I am encouraged by what I hear and see.  

And so, as night has fallen today, so too the twilight of my time here as a Catholic Worker is also upon me.  Yet as this night is upon us, I am not in despair, for a new dawn is rising up in homeless friends I have made here.  This dawn I have been seeing break open in them gives me hope, a hope which stretches beyond them, into the wide community of humanity.  This hope extends beyond this lifetime, into the limitless expanse of eternity.  The fruits of this faith, hope and love will be seen in eternity.  In eternity, we will see the consequences of our faith, hope and love.  

Let us move forward in faith, hope and love now, so that we may live in love for all eternity.  Amen.  

* Matthew 25:18,25 
** Luke 19:20 
*** Matthew 25:20,23 

Give Him Honor

Who do we think we are?  What do we think we know?  What do we think we owe?  To whom do we think we owe it?  

In today's Gospel reading, Jesus speaks to us about what we owe and to whom we owe it.  In those verses we hear 

The Pharisees went off
and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech. 
They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying,
"Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man
and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
And you are not concerned with anyone's opinion,
for you do not regard a person's status.
Tell us, then, what is your opinion:
Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?" 
Knowing their malice, Jesus said,
"Why are you testing me, you hypocrites? 
Show me the coin that pays the census tax." 
Then they handed him the Roman coin. 
He said to them, "Whose image is this and whose inscription?" 
They replied, "Caesar's."
At that he said to them,
"Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar
and to God what belongs to God."*  

When asked whether people had to pay taxes or not, Jesus asked for a coin.  He asked and was told that the emperor was shown on the coin.  Jesus then instructed us that we should give to the government what belongs to the government, and to God what belongs to God.  

In expounding upon Scripture, it has been written that we are to give to earthly rulers what is due to them, as long as it does not controvert what is due to God.**  With similar reasoning, some people conclude that they do not have to pay taxes, claiming that they need not pay taxes to a government which then uses taxpayers' money to fund warmaking.  The logic goes that since war is all too often unjust, citizens are not obligated to pay taxes to support unjust wars.  

However, Jesus did not teach us to pay taxes unless the government is waging an unjust war.  When he offered his reply on this question of whether we must pay taxes, the Roman empire was conquering and subduing many persons.  Jesus could have said that taxes should be paid, but not to the Romans since they were subjecting so many people to their forced imperial expansion.  However, he did not say so.  Despite the warmaking of the Roman empire, Jesus taught people to give to Caesar what was Caesar's.  

Elsewhere in Scripture we hear that we are to pay taxes.  Today in his sermon here at the hermitage, Father Cyprian reminded us that Saint Paul tells us, "Pay to all their dues, taxes to whom taxes are due, toll to whom toll is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due."***  When taxes are due, we are to pay them.  We are to give the honor and respect to our leaders which is due to them as our earthly leaders.  We are to worship God since He is Our Heavenly Father, and we are to give Him the glory, praise, honor and adoration which is His due.  

Scripture tells us to pay the taxes we owe.  Jesus Himself directs us to give our earthly rulers what is due to them.  If we decide not to pay taxes, we turn away from Scripture.  We all have to decide whether or not to listen to Jesus.  

God tells us what we are called to do.  God has already chosen who we are.  Yet some people try to decide that they are someone other than who God made them to be.  Some people were born men but decide they want to be women.  God had already chosen their gender.  Some decisions have already been made for us.  If we try to ignore who God made us to be, we ignore the truth.  If we try to be people other than who God created us to be, we are living lies.  We all have to decide how we will relate to the truth.  

In deciding how we will relate to the truth, we either accept God or reject Him.  If we embrace who God made us to be, we welcome the truth into our hearts.  The truth is that God made us; He is our Creator.  We owe Him the respect due to Him as our Creator by respecting the choices He made for us when He knit us together in the womb.****  We pay him the respect and honor due to Him when we acknowledge our proper place before Him, that we are nothing without Him, that without Him we can do nothing.*****  To God be all glory, praise and honor, now and forevermore.  Amen.  

* Matthew 22:15-21 
** Jerusalem Bible, Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. (New York, 1990), p. 1646, note "d" to Matthew 22:21
*** Romans 13:7 
**** Psalm 139:13 
***** John 15:5 

Listen To Echoes

The truth of who we are echoes over our lives.  The persistent emergence of our identity resounds in our souls, a message which, in its recurrence, repeatedly encourages us to stay true to who God faithfully calls us to be, and to evermore become.  

During my present stay here at the hermitage, I have been witnessing how my life continues to unfold consistently in ways which reinforce how God calls me to be who He has always meant me to be.  In the midst of this stay here, I hear my life echoing who I am.  

These few days of retreat seem like they can be taken as a tiny version of the year and a half I lived here.  In the ebb and flow of my emotions now, and in the present stirrings in my soul, and in the current movements of the Holy Spirit within me, I am reminded of similar interior shifts when I resided here.  

Much like when I moved in a few years ago to live here, similarly a couple of nights ago I was filled with joy and excitement at the prospect of basking in the stillness and silence and solitude here, so conducive to prayer and meditation.  Upon both arrivals, I deeply breathed in this contemplative atmosphere.  

Both three years ago and two days ago, I calmed down soon after arriving.  I began to take stock of who I am, namely someone with monastic tendencies, yet also with great love of those who are poor.  Then I came to see myself, and now I view myself, as a servant of those who are impoverished, and as having an inner monk I am to nourish through spiritual disciplines I can follow even in the midst of whatever activity occupies me.  

I practiced such attention to the promptings of the Holy Spirit amidst busy days while I still lived here.  After I had lived here for about half a year, I started driving monks who couldn't drive, usually to their doctor appointments.  Today, about halfway through this visit, I drove to Carmel and picked up a monk; he was on his way back from monastic business with other Camaldolese monks in Italy.  After meeting him in Carmel, I brought him back here to the hermitage.  

As I progressed in my residence here, I concluded that it didn't seem that God was calling me to become a monk here, but that God had been calling me to be here so I could deepen my prayer life.  Similarly, while I have been deeply nourished during the last couple of days here, it seems clear to me that I am to ponder in my heart, as our Blessed Mother Mary did.*  I feel I am to retain and treasure what has so nurtured me and allow it to guide me and to empower me and to light my path** as I strive to serve my neighbors, many of whom are poor.  As the Trappist monk Thomas Merton noted, we are to bring the contemplative treasures we have been given and share those spiritual fruits out in the world.  We are to share with others the great love which God has bestowed upon us.  

To properly serve, we must show great love.  If we empty ourselves, God can fill us with His love.  Nourished by the presence of Jesus, especially felt in stillness and silence and solitude, we can help others to feel the presence of Jesus.  If we remain in Jesus, and Jesus in us,*** we can bear much fruit in His name; conversely, without Him, we can do nothing.****  If we are filled with the love of God,***** we can recognize Jesus in those who are the least among us,****** and we can welcome Jesus into our hearts.  

When we welcome Jesus into our hearts, we hear and welcome The Word which God has been speaking in eternity.  The Word, the love of God, has been echoing for all eternity.  We hear this echo calling to us in the depths of our souls.  When we hear, and listen to, and respond with open hearts to this repeating invitation, we become who God has always intended us to be.  

* Luke 2:19 
** Psalm 119:105 
*** John 15:4,5,6,7,9,10 
**** John 15:5 
***** Romans 5:5 
****** Matthew 25:40,45 

Listen With Love

Here at the hermitage where I am currently on retreat, every night after Vespers, for half an hour the Blessed Sacrament is on the altar in the church.  The monks welcome guests to join them in Eucharistic Adoration.  

Tonight during Eucharistic Adoration, as is typically the case, the lights were off.  Also as usual, near the Eucharist on the altar, three very short candles were burning.  

As I sat gazing at the Blessed Sacrament, I recalled how, earlier this week, I had heard a needy man, who I'll again call "Manuel," recite part of a poem he had written.  From memory as he retold the poem, he spoke of how he would not be ashamed of the sacrifice Jesus had made for him.  In the poem, he explained how he would not be ashamed of the body and the blood of Christ, for in it rests his salvation.*  

I was implicitly encouraged to welcome Jesus Christ into my heart as I heard Manuel recite his poem.  While Manuel does not always speak so poetically, nor does he always act so gracefully, nevertheless he sits before me as one from whom I can learn.  

Recently Manuel was chastised for allegedly attempting to conduct a drug deal in a public space.  Later that evening, apparently agitated over how he had been chided, Manuel was yelling in the road that if he felt like screaming in the street, then he would scream in the street.  

From his unsavory actions, one could quickly conclude that one has nothing to learn from him.  We can jump to the conclusion that we have nothing to learn from drug dealers and drug addicts.  Or we can recognize the truth that even drug dealers and drug addicts can teach us, if we are willing to listen to them.  

Jesus speaks to us through those who are maligned.  In how we react to those who are social outcasts, so we reply to Jesus.  Whatever we do to those who are the least among us, we do to Jesus.**  If we ignore those who are marginalized in our society, we turn our backs on Jesus.  

Everyday we are confronted with the choice of how we will respond when we meet Jesus in the poor person in front of us.  If we shut our ears and avert our eyes from the indigent person before us, we shut out Jesus.  Yet Jesus advised that those who have ears to hear should listen.***  

In the end, Jesus calls us to love.  We love our neighbor when we listen to our neighbor.  We are able to listen to our neighbor when we do not judge our neighbor.  If we choose not to judge our neighbor, then we can forgive our neighbor, and welcoming him into our hearts, we can listen to what he has to tell us.  

The Holy Spirit speaks to us through our neighbor.  The Holy Spirit, in our neighbor, invites us to open our hearts to Jesus.  There, in our neighbor, we find Jesus, inviting us to welcome Him into our hearts.  If we wish to welcome Jesus into our hearts, let us love our neighbor by not judging our neighbor, by forgiving our neighbor, and by listening to our neighbor.  Amen.  

* Romans 1:16 
** Matthew 25:40,45
*** Matthew 11:15; Matthew 13:9; Mark 4:9; Revelation 2:7,29 

Lovingly Welcome Martyrdom

This afternoon I arrived back here at the hermitage for my first visit since I stopped living here at the beginning of last summer.  Being here again, I am reminded of why I entered formation here on the path to becoming a monk: the silence and solitude so conducive to prayer and meditation; the liturgical schedule which includes communal prayer three times a day, in addition to daily Mass; and the warm, welcoming hospitality of these gracious monks.  

Yet I recollect that while I felt that God called me to live at this hermitage for a time so I could learn to deepen my prayer life, I feel that it has been clear to me for quite some time now that God has not given me the grace to be a monk.  A while ago I also concluded that I have an inner monk, who I am to nurture consciously, deliberately and mindfully, through the spiritual disciplines of prayer, worship, celebration of God's blessings, silence, solitude, simplicity and service, among other spiritual practices.  

God has given me the wisdom to realize that these spiritual disciplines help me to turn my attention toward Him, to focus on Him, and to hear Him and to listen to Him.  God gives us what we need to do His will.  We might get caught up in craving something that we would like to do to try to serve Him, but while we have our own hopes of how to serve God, in insisting upon them, we might be clinging to ideas which are our own, and are not according to the plan God has in mind for us.  

Today at Mass here, in his sermon Father Cyprian recalled how both Saint Francis and Saint Romuald longed to die as martyrs for the sake of the Kingdom of God.  Yet, Father Cyprian explained to us, God had not given Saint Francis and Saint Romuald the grace to be martyrs.  Father Cyprian went on to note that dying as a martyr is not something we can reach out and grasp; we must be given the grace to die as a martyr.  God gives us the grace we need to do His will.  

However, Father Cyprian gave us hope as he continued his homily.  He instructed us that God calls all of us to be martyrs for love.  We are to die to our own desires, so that, having emptied ourselves, God can fill us with His grace so that, filled with His love,* we can serve as the conduits through which God sends His love to our neighbors, so that they may receive what they need.  

I was reminded of these truths this morning when I received a message from someone I'll call "Paul."  God has blessed both Paul and me with the same certain person in our lives, who I'll call "Lauren."  Lauren is homeless and she also suffers from a drug addiction.  Paul and I have discussed much how we might be able to help Lauren, who keeps making decisions which threaten her spiritual, psychological and physical health.  While we can see Lauren as disappointing us, and based on that dissatisfaction, we could choose to isolate her and shun her, if we were to do so, we would be deciding to allow our emotions to control us.  Or we can choose to let our irritation with her not dominate us, but instead die to our natural inclinations, instead letting love rule us.  

When we forgive, we die to our selfish instincts to cling to our pain of how we feel we have been hurt.  As we forgive, we selflessly love the other person.  When we forgive, we also love ourselves, since we free ourselves from the prison in which we had been enclosing ourselves: when we forgive our neighbor, we let go of the pain which had been enslaving us, through the torment we had been deciding to impose on both our neighbor and on ourselves by previously refusing to forgive our neighbor.  

When we allow ourselves to be humbled, then God gives us the grace** we need to forgive our neighbor.  If we forgive our neighbor, we treat our neighbor as we would like to be treated, since we too would like to be forgiven.  When we forgive our neighbor, we love our neighbor as ourselves*** as Jesus taught us to do.  When we die to our own pain, we become martyrs for love.  Having let go of our pain, God can fill us with His grace, so that, filled with His love, we can give others the love they need.  In loving through the free gift of the grace of God,**** we glorify God.  In dying to ourselves, and in forgiving our neighbor, and thus loving our neighbor, we become who God has always meant us to be.  Amen.  

* Romans 5:5 
** James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5 
*** Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14  
**** Ephesians 2:8 

Learning From Others

When we become who God has always meant us to be, we help others to realize who God has always intended them to be.  When we love, we help others to love.  

In my quest to discover my true identity, I have been assisted by numerous friends.  This week and last week, I have been thinking especially of a dear friend of mine who passed away at the end of last month.  I've written before of this cherished friend, who I have called "Uncle."  In his reflective, meditative way, Uncle supplied helpful insight to me as I have struggled to find my real identity.  For years he served me as a valuable friend, accompanying me as I did work which I knew was not the best fit for me.  

For ten years I worked as an attorney, even though I really didn't want to be doing such work; I was forcing myself to work as an attorney so I could pay off my large debts.  I didn't have an idea of what I would do next until I had been a lawyer for more than a few years.  Even though I didn't know what I would do after I stopped being a lawyer, I was impatient to move on and stop lawyering.  

Usually I remained silent about wanting to switch to some other type of work.  However, looking back at those days as an attorney, it seems that even though so often I kept quiet about wanting to cease lawyering, now I feel I was receiving direction about where I was headed.  Now it seems as if Uncle and the rest of the family were implicitly preparing me and teaching me simply by welcoming me into their homes.  

At this point it seems as if, embedded in their actions of welcoming me into their homes, they were showing me that I was taking steps to get ready for what I would do next.  Yet if Uncle had explained their assistance through words, I envision that he would have taken one of his characteristic pauses in which he carefully pondered what he was about to say.  Then I can imagine him gently and wisely advising me, "In what you are doing right now, you are preparing for what you want to do later."  

Often we don't see right away how we are preparing for what will come later.  Friends help us see what we can't see.  

I visualize him having given me this insight while sitting with him at one of the many family celebrations with him and the rest of his family.  At Thanksgiving dinners and birthday celebrations, I was welcomed into their family.  Insofar as they're Filipino, I was repeatedly experiencing the context of a different cultural background when we celebrated together on these occasions.  

As I was welcomed time and again into their homes, they didn't realize that they were preparing me to go into the Peace Corps.  Just as Uncle and the rest of their family welcomed me into their homes and another cultural background, similarly once I arrived with the Peace Corps in Morocco, I was being welcomed into host families in another culture.  

Long after I left Morocco, I realized that Uncle's warmth and generosity and welcoming nature had been echoed in the hospitality I received in Morocco.  Yet before I had even left Morocco, I had resolved to extend hospitality to others once I left Morocco.  And so I was influenced in my decision to enter a reformed Benedictine monastery, since Benedictine monks offer hospitality to visitors.  I lived and worked at the Camaldolese hermitage on the Big Sur coast of California partly since I strove to be hospitable just as Uncle and the rest of his family, as well as Moroccans, were hospitable to me.  

Similarly, I have felt drawn to live and work at Catholic Worker Houses partly since I have wanted to offer hospitality to those in need of it.  Thus I find myself here at this Catholic Worker House in part due to Uncle's warm and giving and hospitable nature.  

Thus I return to what I wrote in a recent blog post: in being ourselves, we help others to find themselves.  As we give, we help others to give.  

Uncle and his daughters and the rest of their family, in extending hospitality to me, led me to realize I wanted to extend hospitality to others.  In being themselves, they helped me to be me.   When we embrace who God calls us to be, we help others realize who God calls them to be.  

When we love, we help others to love.  When we love others, we show who we are. 

When we love others, we welcome others into our hearts.  When we love others, we welcome God into our hearts.  

When we extend hospitality to our neighbor, we love our neighbor as ourselves,* as Jesus taught us to do.  We would like to receive hospitality from others, so when we offer hospitality to others, we treat others as we would like to be treated.  

We become what we do.  When we love, we become love.  Let us love, help others to love, and become love.  Amen.  

* Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27; Leviticus 19:18; Romans 13:9; Galatians 5:14 

God Calling Us

When we listen to God, we feel the love of God.  If we accept who God is calling us to be, we feel great joy.  If we become who God has always intended us to be, we become our real selves.  Upon following the will of God, we welcome God into our hearts, and thus welcome love into our hearts.*  Love reigns in hearts which are fully open to God.  

At times God calls us in ways we can hear with the ears of our bodies.  At other points God speaks to us in ways which resonate deep in our souls.  

Yesterday when I was walking up to the church for Mass, the church bells were ringing.  I heard not only the reverberating volume of the sonorous bells vibrating against my eardrums.  I also felt echoing in my soul how I had been previously called to prayer by resonating bells.  

I was reminded of when I was traveling in Europe, right after I had finished serving in the Peace Corps in Morocco.  At one point during those travels in Europe, I found a church by following the sound of the tolling of the church bells.  

Yesterday as I approached the church, I thought too of when I lived at the hermitage in Big Sur.  In that Benedictine monastic community, where I thought I was going to become a monk, the church bell sounds before each Mass and each recitation of the Divine Office, in which Psalms are sung and spoken.  The monks, upon hearing the church bell, proceed to the church for Mass or the Divine Office.  They do their best both to hear the call and to follow it.  

We can be guided by what we hear.  God directs us too through the Holy Spirit speaking to us deep within us.  

God is calling out to us.  As Jesus told us, anyone who has ears should listen.**  When we listen, and submit to God's will, and obediently follow the calling God has ordained for us, we find true joy, for then we find our true selves, and become who God has always meant us to be.  As we live out our vocations, we become who God made us to be.  If we become who God intended us to be, we embrace God, and feel love, for God is love.***  As we feel the love of God, we feel joy.  In finding this joy, we are brought on our way back home to God.  

* Romans 5:5  ** Matthew 11:15; Matthew 13:9; Mark 4:9; Luke 8:8 
*** 1 John 4:8,16 

Emptying Ourselves Completely

Today is the feast day of Saint Romuald.  Today in the Catholic Church we commemorate the life of this saint who lived in the tenth and the eleventh centuries and who reformed Benedictine monasteries.  In time, his reforms were seen to have formed a new religious congregation of monks who came to be known as Camaldolese, named after their head monastery called Camaldoli, which is in Italy.  

After spending a year and a half living at New Camaldoli Hermitage on the Big Sur coast of California, I grew quite fond of the monks there, as well as the folks who work there too.  While I lived there, I came to realize better how and why we can be nourished deeply in the recesses of our souls by the spiritual disciplines of solitude, silence, prayer and meditation.  There in a dwelling space called a monastic cell, a monk lives as a solitary, assisted by these monastic spiritual practices as he strives to respond to God's call.  These spiritual disciplines position us so that, in opening our hearts to God, we consent to God loving our neighbor through us.  

I was significantly guided in my pursuit of these spiritual practices by the Rule of Saint Romuald.  He wrote it as a brief directive for men who came to monasteries to commune with God.  In his little rule, Saint Romuald counsels 

Sit in your cell as in Paradise.  Put the whole world behind you and forget it.  Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish.  The path you must follow is in the Psalms--never leave it.  

If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will you cannot accomplish what you want, take every opportunity you can to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them with your mind.  

And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up; hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more.  

Realize above all that you are in God's presence, and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor.  

Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes nothing and eats nothing but what his mother brings him.  

The Rule of Saint Romuald resonates with how I have sought to orient my life over the last half dozen years.  I do my best to take time to retreat and forget about the world for a time so as to be recollected in my soul.  I have also aimed to forget the false notions the world gives me.  I have been aspiring to forget the false self that the world has tried to convince me I am, as the Trappist monk Thomas Merton describes.  We can choose to reject the empty promises the world makes, vainly suggesting that we always need to be buying and possessing certain items in order to remain relevant in today's ever-changing material world.  Rather than consume our energies on fruitless pursuits, we can direct our focus elsewhere.  In still silent solitude, we are better positioned to listen to God so we can ever more discover our true selves.  

This rule directs us to take every opportunity we can to sing the Psalms in our hearts.  Insofar as we are to pray always,* again the Rule confirms my inclinations.  So often I find myself mindlessly wasting precious time on trivial concerns which ultimately do not matter.  Rather than burn up our energy on matters which are truly unimportant, instead we can strive to orient our hearts toward God in every instant.  

In his rule, Saint Romuald advises us not to feel discouraged when our minds wander from words of wisdom, which they certainly will.  Rather, we are once again to apply ourselves to The Word in front of us.  So often I find my mind straying off course.  Thus I so appreciate Saint Romuald's gentle encouragement, as a reminder to remain on course.  We should not feel downtrodden when we fall, since most certainly we shall fall; we must remain resolute and we must once again rise once we have fallen.  

Saint Romuald reminds us that we are in God's presence.  Jesus is with us always.**  We are to stand before God like a person standing before an emperor.  Seeing ourselves for what we truly are, nothing without the help of God, we are humbled.  Having been humbled, we are well-situated for God to work through the Holy Spirit in us.  

Realizing that we are nothing without the aid of God, we can empty ourselves.  Knowing that we can do nothing without God, we can wait for God to transform us.  Upon being humbled, we can receive the grace and strength from God we need, for God gives grace to the humble.***  

Seeing our true place, and humbled by the reality that we can do nothing without God, we can then open our hearts to God.  If we are silent and wait patiently upon God, we can be nourished by the presence of Jesus.  Our Lord Jesus empowers us to do the will of our Heavenly Father.  I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.****

By the grace of God, we can come to do what by human standards seems impossible.  For humans, to love like God loves is impossible.  For God, nothing is impossible.*****  

Through the grace of God, we become able to give to everyone who asks,****** as Jesus instructs us to do in today's Gospel reading.  Having sought the tender, warm, loving touch of Jesus in silence, stillness and solitude, we become empowered through the gentle strength of His presence to convey His love to others.  By opening our hearts to God, we welcome God into our hearts, so that Jesus abides in us,******* and loves others through us.  Opening our hearts to God, we allow God to love others through us.********  We can thus let the love of God be shown through us.  Let us let God love others through us.  Amen.  

* 1 Thessalonians 5:17 
** Matthew 28:20 
*** 1 Peter 5:5; James 4:6 
**** Philippians 4:13 
***** Matthew 19:26; Luke 1:37 
****** Matthew 5:42 
******* John 15:9 
******** Romans 5:5 

Giving Up Ourselves

We are to give of ourselves.  We are to pour ourselves out for our neighbor.  Out of love for our neighbor, we are to die to ourselves so our neighbor can more fully live.  We are reminded of how we are called to such death and rebirth through how Jesus lived, died and rose from the dead for us.  In emulating and following Jesus, we are to model such love for each other.  I have seen a dear friend live out this love, throughout the whole time I have known him, and especially over the past year.  

Yesterday I visited this dear friend.  Years ago he asked me to address him as "Uncle," so here in this blog post I'll call him "Uncle."  Uncle is much older than I am.  He's the father of two friends of mine who were in college with me; I've known them for over twenty years.  Since we've been good friends for so long, years ago they introduced me to their father, who is Uncle.  
About nine months ago Uncle had a stroke.  He has been slowly recovering from this stroke: he cannot speak; he can move much less than he used to move.  He has been recuperating in long-term care facilities.  I have been struck by his tenacity and his determination.  Although he has faced significant challenges as he tries to regain his functioning, he has not been deterred.  

He has not given up.  He has kept trying to get better.  Although his body is broken, still he gives of himself.  

Jesus' body was broken for us.  Jesus gave of Himself for our sakes.  

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ.  Today we especially honor how Jesus gave up His body and His blood for us.   

When Jesus celebrated the Last Supper with His disciples, He broke the bread and gave it to His disciples, telling them, "This is My Body, given for you."  With the cup of wine, He told them, "This is My Blood, poured out for you."  As He gave them the bread and the cup, He instructed His disciples, "Do this in memory of me."*  Thus we celebrate the Eucharist when we celebrate Mass.  

Jesus has told us to do as he has done.  Give yourself up for your neighbor.  

Uncle is still giving of himself for the sake of his children and grandchildren.  By facing physical pain and incapacitation with resolve and fortitude, he is showing his children and his grandchildren how to respond courageously to formidable challenges.  In how he stays his course as he bravely grapples with his physical challenges, he is continuing to teach his children and his grandchildren about persistence, a labor of love to be honored today on Father's Day, and everyday.  

Uncle is embracing the duty God has placed before him.  Yesterday when I saw Uncle, I read to him an excerpt from "The Sacrament of the Present Moment" by Jean-Pierre de Caussade, which I felt he would find inspiring.  In it, de Caussade asks us, 

Is not a picture painted on a canvas by the application of one stroke of the brush at a time?  Similarly the cruel chisel destroys a stone with each cut.  But what the stone suffers by repeated blows is no less the shape the mason is making of it.  And should a poor stone be asked, "What is happening to you?" it might reply, "Don't ask me.  All I know is that for my part there is nothing for me to know or do, only to remain steady under the hand of my Master and to love Him and suffer Him to work out my destiny.  It is for Him to know how to achieve this.  I know neither what is best and most perfect, and I suffer each cut of the chisel as though it were the best thing for me, even though, to tell the truth, each one is my idea of ruin, destruction and defacement.  But, ignoring all this, I rest contented with the present moment.  Thinking only of my duty to it, I submit to the work of this skillful Master without caring to know what it is."  

God calls us to the duty of the present moment.  God seeks to shape us through means we would not have chosen on our own.  God speaks to us in ways we don't expect.  

I think of Father Bruno, one of the Camaldolese monks I met at the hermitage in Big Sur, and how he found encouragement in his monastic vocation in a way some might see as unlikely, as described in the book "Adam: God's Beloved" by Henri Nouwen.  Once Father Bruno had stopped serving as prior, or head, of the monastic community in Big Sur, he took a sabbatical to help him to transition from holding authority to once again being a regular monk.  During his three months away from the hermitage, Father Bruno stayed at one of the L'Arche homes for disabled people founded by Jean Vanier.  While caring for a young intellectually disabled man named Adam at a L'Arche home, Father Bruno related how this disabled man, who essentially could not speak, was helping him to be a better monk.  Father Bruno explained that he had known that he "had to become empty for God, gradually letting go of thoughts, emotions, feelings and passions" that prevent deep communion with God.  Father Bruno described how silent Adam was helping him to delve into deeper solitude and thus deeper communion with God.  

We find encouragement in our relationship with God through people we don't expect, and through circumstances we don't expect.  God speaks to us both through pleasure and through pain, both of which can help us to welcome God into our hearts.  

When we encounter hardship, it might not seem like a blessing to us.  In the moment, all we see and feel is our own misery.  Yet we can come to realize that by pouring ourselves out for our neighbor, we can help our neighbor more fully live.  If we embrace our suffering, we are well-positioned to love our neighbor.  If we consciously embrace our afflictions so that others can live better, we can witness our pain being transformed into a sacrifice of love.  A sacrifice lovingly given can bear beautiful fruit, which can be seen in how others come to love better through the example provided to them.  

Once we see that our suffering can become an occasion for us to better love our neighbor, we come to see that God allows us to encounter adversity for our own good.  And of course God allows us pleasure for our comfort.  And so we can come to see God in all things.  We can come to welcome ordeals once we see that God is working all for our good, if we just love Him.**  

Realizing that God works all for the good of those who love Him, we come to thank God always.***  Seeing that God is always loving us, since God is love,**** we come to ever more open our hearts to God.  Welcoming God as love, we welcome whatever God sends to us.  Out of love, we welcome God into our hearts.  Amen.  

* Matthew 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20; 
1 Corinthians 11:23-25 

** Romans 8:28 

*** 1 Thessalonians 5:18 

**** 1 John 4:8,16 

Fruits Of Discernment

This month I have reached some clarity in my discernment of my vocation.  At the same time, some questions remain.  

For the last few months, I was discerning whether or not God was calling me to serve poor persons in the context of consecrated religious life as a religious brother.  I have discerned that it appears that God is not calling me at all to consecrated religious life.  

I have come to this conclusion since I have discerned that God does not seem to be calling me to make a vow of chastity.  As best as I can see with my imperfect vision, indications are that God is not calling me to make this vow.  

In prior stages of discernment, I had focused on other vocational questions.  While I was at the hermitage, as I was discerning whether I would become a monk there or whether I was called elsewhere, I directed my discernment more prominently to my strong desire to return to ministering to poor persons.  Ultimately, I left the hermitage and returned to serving impoverished people.  

Once I had come back to being a Catholic Worker, the question arose whether I would not only serve impoverished people, but whether I would do so in the context of making vows in a religious order.  

I have felt strongly called to make vows of poverty and obedience.  For the first few months of this year, I felt like I was a piece of rope in a tug-of-war.  On the one hand, I felt as if I was being pulled by a desire to make vows to God.  On the other hand, I have felt an inclination to intimacy and affection with others.  

I have been driven with the desire to make vows to God because God has given me so much.  There is no way I can ever repay Him.  Since I feel so grateful to God, I want to give as much back to Him as I can.  We are called to love as much as we can.  Each of us is to love as much as we can within the context of the specific vocation each of us has.  Our fate will depend on how much we have loved.  Saint John of the Cross wrote that "At the evening of life, we shall be judged on our love."  

For a while I endured the stress of feeling like I was being pulled in opposite directions, as I grappled with yearnings that were both undeniable yet irreconcilable.  I reached a point where I realized that I feel empowered by God to make vows of poverty and obedience, and those longings are part of me.  I acknowledged that I also desire intimacy and affection, which is also a part of me, and which I cannot ignore.  When I admitted that both of these desires are part of me, I felt great peace and calm.  I no longer felt tension.   

I had been feeling strain over this question since I had been trying to accept something that was not mine to have.  At times in the midst of thinking about this facet of my vocation, I have pondered words of Jesus which have been invoked regarding celibacy.  Jesus said, "Some are incapable of marriage because they were born so; some, because they were made so by others; some, because they have renounced marriage for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. Whoever can accept this ought to accept it."*  If this is yours to accept, then accept it.  If this is not yours to accept, do not try to accept it.  

In connection with this vocational question, back when I was still living at the hermitage, one of the wise monks there counseled me that you can't give what isn't yours to give.  If God hasn't empowered someone to be celibate, then such a person can't give that gift of celibacy back to God.  Similarly, if God hasn't endowed a person with the gift of a vocation to married life, then such a person is not equipped for such a life.  

Since making vows in a religious order involves three vows, namely poverty, chastity and obedience, and I feel I can do two of them but not all three, I will be making none of these vows.  I do not know of a religious institution in which members make vows of poverty and obedience but not chastity.  

However, just because I will not be making a vow of chastity, it doesn't mean I'm going to get married.  I like the idea of getting married, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen.  

It's not a question of "when."  It's a question of "if."  If God wills that I be married, then let it be so.  I am asking: what is God's will for me?  

It is not a question of improbability.  There is the temptation to think that, because I feel called to live in such simplicity, the potential population of compatible partners has been drastically reduced for me.  It is not a question of casting a line into the sea and hoping to net the perfect fish against the unpromising odds in such a large sea.  Rather, I hope I can listen, hear and follow Jesus when He tells me to cast my net into deep water or over the other side of the boat,** in whatever context He is telling me to do so.  I aspire to follow God's will in all matters, trusting in Him and having faith in Him.  If God wills that I be married, then let it be so.  For now it is in question whether it will be so.  

Similarly, the rest of my vocation also remains in question.  I continue to discern where God is calling me, to what ministry He is calling me, and with whom He is calling me to work.  In the meantime, I continue to enjoy a life of prayer and work amongst the homeless persons I have come to know and love, who I find right in front of me.  

* Matthew 19:12 

** Luke 5:4; John 21:6