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 

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 

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 

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 

Obediently Trusting God

Do we have ears to hear?  If we have ears to hear, let us use them to listen.*  If we listen, do we understand?  If we have the good sense to do our best to try to comprehend what is being told to us, let us do our best to fathom that God wants to meet us in bottomless depths, and that God wants to raise us to great heights, if we are but willing to allow ourselves to be humbled.**    

Let us not fear, but trust in God, remembering that God holds us in the palm of His hand, and that He has unimaginably fantastic rewards in store for us.  If we but open our eyes and use them to see, we will recognize the magnificent wonders that God has already shown us.  Thus we will be led to open our hearts to welcome all the marvels which God wishes to work through us and otherwise in our little lives.  He wishes that we give our consent to welcome His will, so that our souls may flourish like tiny mustard seeds, just as the Kingdom of God is sprouting from a mustard seed into an immense bush which will provide much shelter,*** comfort and repose for ourselves and others, and ultimately bringing us into peace and joy in his loving embrace.  

And so it was when the angel Gabriel announced to the Blessed Virgin Mary that she would conceive through the power of the Holy Spirit and give birth to Jesus.  Thus yesterday in our celebration of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord, we heard that 

The angel Gabriel was sent from God
to a town of Galilee called Nazareth,
to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph,
of the house of David,
and the virgin's name was Mary.
And coming to her, he said,
"Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you."
But she was greatly troubled at what was said
and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
Then the angel said to her,
"Do not be afraid, Mary,
for you have found favor with God.
Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son,
and you shall name him Jesus.
He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High,
and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father,
and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever,
and of his Kingdom there will be no end."
But Mary said to the angel,
"How can this be,
since I have no relations with a man?"
And the angel said to her in reply,
"The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.
Therefore the child to be born
will be called holy, the Son of God.
And behold, Elizabeth, your relative,
has also conceived a son in her old age,
and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren;
for nothing will be impossible for God."
Mary said, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.
May it be done to me according to your word."
Then the angel departed from her.****  

The angel Gabriel arrived and greeted Mary.  He acknowledged her as being full of grace, that God was with her.  Mary was troubled at this greeting; she wondered what type of salutation the angel could be offering to her.  

God is always wanting to talk with us.  God speaks to us.  Yet we don't understand what God is saying to us.  

The angel told Mary not to be afraid.  The angel assured her that she had found favor with God, so she had no reason to fear.  

When God speaks to us, how do we feel?  Do we worry when God addresses us?  Do we fear when God talks with us?  

In the midst of stressful circumstances in our lives, how do we react?  Do we panic?  Do we trust in God, or do we succumb to fear?  

When we fear, what does God have in store for us?  In times when we are scared of what is going to happen in our lives, is God trying to give us something we don't expect? 

The angel told Mary that she was going to conceive and bear a son, and that she must name Him Jesus, since He would save people from their sins.  Accordingly, He would be great.  He would not only sit upon the throne of His ancestor King David, but He would rule forever.  She was told that His Kingdom will have no end.  

When we are terrified, we must remember that God operates on a much grander scale than we do.  When we tremble, we must keep in mind that God holds us in the palm of His hand.   

When the angel told Mary that she was to give birth to Jesus, she asked, "How can this be?"  She so inquired because she had not had relations with a man.  

God works wonders.  We wonder how God works.  God unravels marvels in front of us.  We marvel at what transpires before us.  We wonder how all these wonders take place.  

The angel explained to Mary that the Holy Spirit would come upon her.  The angel revealed to her that God's power would overshadow her.  

We cannot see how God works through us.  We do not realize how God works wonders in our lives.  Through His mighty spirit, God transforms us, those around us and our lives.  God is infinitely greater than we are, and so God can transfigure us in ways and to extents we could never do without Him.  God reminds us of His great power to work amazing changes in us.  

The angel reminded Mary that her cousin Elizabeth had conceived in her old age.  People had called Elizabeth barren and unable to have a child, just as Sarah was thought to be unable to bear a child to Abraham since she too was elderly.  Yet angels also brought the glad tidings to Abraham and Sarah that soon they would have a son.*****  Thus the angel reminded Mary that nothing is impossible for God.******   

We are to look at what we have already seen.  We must look at the wonders which have already been shown to us.  In recalling these magnificent deeds God has already done for us, we are strengthened in our faith, and are emboldened in our quest to do His will.  

We have already seen the evidence of God's great power and His abounding love for us.  What more proof do we need of what He can do for us?  What more do we need to see to realize that He boundlessly loves us?  

In short, we are presented with a question which forces us to choose between fear and trust.  Do we trust God?  Do we believe that God wants to do great things for us?  

If we believe, then let us say with Mary that we too are servants of the Lord.  Trusting in God, let us say, "God, may it be done to me as you have said."  

How do we get to a point of such utter submissive abandonment, trusting in God so completely that we are totally obedient to God's will?  We use our ears to hear what God is saying to us.  If we remain silent and sit still, in solitude, we can listen to what God wants to tell us.  We look at the wonders God works around us.  We ponder these things in our hearts.*******  We open our hearts, and allow these marvels to permeate our souls and transform us.  Being attentive to the remarkable feats God performs in our lives, then we realize that we cannot rely on ourselves, and that we must depend on God.  When we allow ourselves to be humbled, then God will raise us up.  Then when we assent to His will, and agree to die to ourselves, then, being grains falling into the ground and dying, He will reap a rich harvest through us.********  Sure of this comfort, we rest secure in peace, and approach the joy that comes in eternal life.  Looking forward to this eternal bliss, we gladly offer our consent to our loving God.   

Thus confident that God will work wonders through us to His praise and glory and honor, let us courageously proclaim in bold prayer, "God, do what you want with me.  Here I am, ready to do Your will."   

* Matthew 11:15 
** Matthew 23:11-12; Matthew 20:26; Luke 14:11; Luke 18:14 
*** Matthew 13:32; Mark 4:31-32; Luke 13:19 
**** Luke 1:26-38 
***** Genesis 17:16, 19, 21; Genesis 18:14 
****** Genesis 18:14; Luke 1:37 
******* Luke 2:19 
******** John 12:24 

Receiving Upon Giving

We are dust, and unto dust we shall return.*  So we are reminded today on Ash Wednesday, at Mass when we step forward and each one of us has a cross of ashes made on his or her forehead.  

And so begins Lent, our more intense period of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, over the course of about the next six weeks, between now and Easter Sunday.  Today at Mass the priest noted that in Lent, we are not only entering into a practice of more frequent penance in atonement for our sins.  During Lent, on Good Friday, we especially remember our Lord Jesus dying for us on the Cross to save us from our sins.  To contrast with our Lenten penance, today the priest pointed out that we are also anticipating the triumph of our Lord Jesus over death through His Resurrection on Easter Sunday.  

As we enter this period of intensified prayer during Lent, we may examine how we approach prayer.  As Pope Francis has inquired of us, in our prayer do we only ask God for things and thank God for things?  If we are focused on what we want, we are likely to experience difficulty in receiving what God wants to give us.  If we are preoccupied with what we want, we are less likely to be adoring and praising God and always rejoicing** out of gratitude for whatever God gives us.  Yet if we are excited about whatever God has in store for us, we practice another approach.  

I heard about such a different conception of prayer yesterday when I drove with someone else to pick up some items which were being donated to the Catholic Worker House.  As we traveled to, and later back from, our donor's home, my passenger was sharing with me how she has come to view prayer.  She described that when she is sitting down to read the Bible, she feels like she is receiving a gift.  It seems to her like she is opening a present, not knowing what is inside.  She suggested that when you aspire to truly receive God's Word into your heart, you do not know what God is about to give you: you do not know how God is about to transform you, if you have truly opened your heart to God.  You are not aware what specific spiritual blessings you are about to receive.  

Saint Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, explained, "Our God does not want to know what we want, but wants us rather to exercise our desire through our prayers, so that we may be able to receive what He is preparing to give us."  How can we prepare ourselves to receive what God wants to give us?  As Jesus tells us in today's Gospel reading, "When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret."***  By sitting motionless in silent solitude, we still and quiet ourselves alone, having removed ourselves from distractions.  We are well-positioned to listen to what God wants to say to us.  We are situated to receive what God wants to give to us.  

We receive what God gives us when we let go of our own desires.  We give up our desires also through fasting.  We tend to conceptualize fasting as giving something up.   Often we give up certain food during Lent, though sometimes people fast from social media during Lent.  Someone can fast from anything.  We are to fast from all things which separate us from God.  When we fast, really we are going beyond giving something up and are doing more than trying to live in greater simplicity.  When we fast, we tell God that we are willing to, and are trying to, subordinate our desires to His will.  As we fast, we show God that we seek to be submissive to His will, and thus obediently open our hearts to what He wants to give us. 

When we give something up, we receive something back.  When we die to ourselves, when we die to our desires, when we set fire to our desires and aim to reduce our desires to a pile of ashes, we try to humble ourselves.  God gives grace to the humble.****  

When we give up what we have out of love of our neighbor, we humble ourselves for the sake of love.  So it is with almsgiving.  When we give to those who are needy, we step out of our comfort zone to help others in their discomfort.  When we give out of our comfort, we are able to comfort the afflicted.  Saint Basil of Caesarea has said that the extra coat which is hanging unused in our closet belongs to the poor shivering impoverished person who has no coat.  Out of our comfortable wealth of unused property, we can comfort people who do not have what we have.  We can easily give them what they need but we do not need since we have more than we need.  

We can give away what we have to help others.  We can give up to God what we have.  We can give up, meaning that we can surrender.  We can give up ourselves to God.  We can surrender ourselves to the will of God.  In return we can receive from God the gift of simplicity.  We can receive back from God the amazing gift of total dependence on Him.  Realizing that we are to turn to God for all we need, then we are in a position to receive from God the gift of awareness of who we truly are.   

* Genesis 3:19 

** 1 Thessalonians 5:16 

*** Matthew 6:6 

**** 1 Peter 5:5; James 4:6 

Discerning My Vocation

Sometime before the end of the summer, I'll be moving on from the Catholic Worker House here in Redwood City.  Both the other Catholic Workers here and I have agreed that it's not a good fit here with me.  

Recently I've realized that I have performed best in my life where there has been more rather than less structure.  Here at the house the day unfolds in a fairly unstructured way, even relative to other Catholic Worker Houses where I've lived or visited.  

I've also known for a while that obedience is a strength God has given me.  I don't have a problem with work where I am told what to do; in fact, when I'm instructed to do something, I work well.  At Catholic Worker Houses, workers may function in an egalitarian fashion or may take direction from a worker who exercises more authority.  Here at the Redwood City Catholic Worker House, it's decided in an unregimented way who does which work.  Each person is free to autonomously decide on what tasks he or she is going to work.  

Going forward, as I discern my vocation, I am being reminded that God has blessed me with many traits and strengths with which God has prepared me for my vocation, for the specific ministry to which God has been calling me.  I feel that God has led me to maintain certain spiritual practices and disciplines to help me seek Him and to love and adore and glorify and praise Him and to help me to love and serve my neighbor.  

I feel nourished when I silently sit still in solitude trying to listen to God.  I cherish the spiritual practices I learned from the warm, wonderful monks at the hermitage where I lived for a year and a half.  I still try to live out these monastic practices, continuing to embrace the inner monk dwelling within me.  

Yet I have been enjoying spiritual community, including while attending Mass daily, worshipping God and celebrating His blessings, praising Him, and often I have been sitting in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  I feel joy these days, including when I aim to serve my neighbor, especially those amongst us who are the most impoverished, including people who are homeless.  I am grateful to God that I can offer to hospitality to others here, especially to those who are sorely in need.  I revel in living simply.  It seems to me that I am being myself, I am being who I am, who God created me to be when I strive to live in this way.  

So how am I to live out these spiritual disciplines?  What is my vocation?  Recently I started meeting with a new spiritual director.  While speaking with him, we discussed how I am to aspire to have a blank slate in my spirit.  In talking with Jesus about who I am, and how I am to live and to be, I am to do my best to remain totally open to what Jesus is trying to help me see about myself.  I strive to have the humility to be a simple servant, ready to carry out the will of God in my life.  I want to open my heart to God, so that God can work through me.  I want God to do His work through me.  

And so I wait to see where God is inviting me.  God is leading us into all Truth, including The Truth of who He is and the truth of who we are.  If we have faith, and thus are open to God leading us, Jesus, as The Way, will lead us into Himself, into The Truth, and we will have Him, The Life.*  If He abides in us and we in Him,** we will have life, and abundantly have it.***  If we will but listen to God, and follow Him, we will have true joy, borne of the truth of who we are in relation to God.  No one can take this joy away from us.****    

I seek the truth of who I am and who God is.  This is the way to true life.  This is true joy.  

* John 14:6 
** John 15:4 
*** John 10:10 
**** John 16:22 

Praying Waters Souls

During Mass today, I noted synergy between my early morning reading and the sermon.  This morning, before I went to Mass, I was reading some spiritual maxims written by Saint John of the Cross, the Carmelite friar and mystic who lived in Spain in the sixteenth century.  Among other axioms written by him, this morning I read how he wrote that "By prayer aridity is expelled, devotion increased, and the interior practice of virtue is established in the soul."  

Then, on this first Sunday of Advent, I attended Mass at 7:30 a.m. here in Redwood City.  During the sermon, the priest analogized us to cornstalks.  He also likened how much we pray, and with how much devotion, and under what circumstances, as being analogous to the extent to which a cornstalk is rooted in the ground.  

In the midst of arid, dry weather, the roots of a cornstalk grow deeper into the ground as they search for water.  So too when we experience spiritual aridity, that is, dryness in prayer, God is calling us to persist in our faith and in our prayer and to deepen our relationship with Him.  As Saint John of the Cross tells us, we expel aridity by praying.  By continuing to pray in the midst of spiritual dryness, we show God that we love Him.  God wants us to seek Him humbly in earnest.    

Roots stabilize the cornstalk.  With deep and extensive roots, a cornstalk can withstand strong winds.  So too when we weather severe storms in life, if we have a deep, devoted, fervent prayer life, through the grace of God, we will resist any and all challenges which we encounter.  

The priest added that the liturgical seasons of Advent and Lent are characterized by more intense fasting and prayer than usual.   He offered encouragement to more deeply enter into prayer in this Advent season.  

During Advent, as we meditate upon the birth of Jesus which we will soon celebrate, we are invited to live more ascetically over these next few weeks.  At times we experience periods of spiritual aridity which we do not consciously choose, and are called upon then to pray more intensely.  Yet at certain times in the liturgical calendar, we are also called to make more intense sacrifices of prayer and fasting, such as during Advent and Lent.  Thus in this current Advent season, we are invited to plumb the depths of own our souls more deeply in prayer.  In doing so in still, silent solitude, we seek a conscious communion with Jesus which can strengthen us against whatever storms may confront us in our lives.  

Word Made Flesh

For a few months now I've had the plan to start a new blog upon settling into a new ministry site for the long term.  As I have been delaying on a new blog, I have been realizing that I have been passing up opportunities to write about what has been happening in my life.  So I've decided to start blogging again even though I'm not sure I'm settled yet.  

As many of you already know, once my postulancy at the hermitage ended in October 2015, I continued living in that monastic community as a participant in the Ora et Labora (Prayer and Work) program.  I continued working there as a volunteer and also continued to participate in the communal prayer.  

I permanently moved out of the hermitage a few months ago, in early June.  Then I visited family and friends on the east coast for about a month.  

On my way back here to California, I spent a little less than a week in Chicago.  There I was happy to go back and visit San Miguel School, the inner-city Catholic middle school where I taught for the 2013-2014 academic year.  I enjoyed seeing some of the students I had taught, even though they had graduated after I had moved from Chicago to California.  During this visit, I was glad to attend the graduation of some students who had been enrolled in the school while I taught there.  It was also fun getting to visit again with the Brothers of the Christian Schools; I lived with them the year I taught in Chicago.  

Once I arrived back in California in the middle of this summer, I went straight to Casa de Clara, the San Jose Catholic Worker House, for a couple of months.  My friends Fumi, Andrew, Lisa and Julian were taking staggered vacations this summer, and at times were also away for some work projects.  I was filling in for them during their absences this summer.  They run a house of hospitality for single women, some of whom have minor children with them, who otherwise would probably be homeless.  

About six weeks ago, I moved in here at the Redwood City Catholic Worker House.  Redwood City is a suburb about halfway between San Francisco and San Jose.  It takes about 25 minutes to drive to either city.  

We have several ministries here.  We run a house of hospitality for single moms with kids and for young adults.  They live here as they work and save money, progressing toward the day when they will have enough money saved to be able to move out into apartments or other homes.  I am reminded of the magnanimous hospitality extended to me when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Morocco.  There in Africa, my gracious Moroccan friends provided me substantial lessons in hospitality from which I had much to learn.  Now I am blessed with many opportunities to practice what I learned in Morocco.  

Many generous people assist us Catholic Workers in many ways.  Here at this particular house we have a small army of volunteers who energetically work from before dawn until nearly noon every Friday, running a program giving away free food to whoever shows up and asks.  Affiliated with the house is a language school a little less than a dozen blocks away where teaching and tutoring is provided, again by a substantial team of volunteers.  

In the larger community of Redwood City, numerous homeless persons are our neighbors in many spots in the city, sleeping in tents, under tarps and under the cover of bushes.  I find them next to freeway on-ramps and off-ramps.  I've been trying to establish relationships with them.  I've been finding it difficult at times since often they are transient: sometimes I don't know where a particular person has relocated.  However, I've been trying to reach out to them; I'm trying to acknowledge them.  I want them to know that I care about them.  Saint Teresa of Calcutta repeatedly said that real poverty is feeling unwanted or unloved.  When we show people we care about them, we help them to feel their own dignity.  They realize their own worth as human beings, because we have treated them like human beings.  

Some people might not seem to have much.  However, true wealth is not measured in possessions.  Lasting wealth is measured in love.  We will have amassed eternal wealth depending on how much we have loved, truly loved, purely loved, loved selflessly, without expectation of any return, in this lifetime.  

We have the least reason to expect anything in return when we give to people who have nothing.  In terms of material possessions, when one has nothing, one has nothing to give.  However, in giving to someone who has little or no physical property, one is giving a gift which is spiritually fruitful.  When we give to those who are destitute, we do receive.  Jesus directs us, "When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you.  For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."*  

Despite not receiving the eternal reward until the next life, nevertheless I feel like God gives me rich rewards in this life.  I've long felt called by God to serve others.  I feel the gift of joy when I serve.  Yet I feel even more joyous, I feel such profound joy, when I strive to help people who are impoverished.  As I've striven to serve others, I've felt called more and more to serve those who have less and then those who have even less.  Feeling deep joy while aiming to serve the most impoverished, I've felt called to serve those of our despised brothers and sisters who are scraping by on the margins of our society.   

When I think of Jesus' instructions in Matthew 25, I feel even more compelled to minister to those who are on the fringes of our society.  There Jesus explains

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.  

Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’  

Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’  
And the King will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’**  

Jesus commands us to love our neighbor by feeding those who are hungry, giving drink to those who are thirsty, welcoming strangers, clothing those who need garments, caring for those who are ill, and visiting those who can't move about as they would like.  We are called to love our neighbor in simple ways.  

In addition to loving simply, we can also live simply.  I especially enjoy trying to live in simplicity, which is another reason why I feel called to be a Catholic Worker.   Over the years I have found that I have had much I didn't really need.  We can give away much which we don't need but which others do need in order to live.  In the USA, a tremendous amount of food is wasted.  We are called to feed the hungry, which we can do with the copious amount of food we have.  

We are called also to humility, whether we are Catholic Workers or really whatever our vocations are.  I find humility very difficult.  I have come to realize that I can do nothing without God's help.  Indeed, I have found that I am imperiled without the help of God; I have to totally rely on God.  

Essentially I have concluded that I must submit to God.  While I do have free will, I was unhappy back when I tried to live my life without trying to discern what God wanted me to do.  Later in life, I discerned that I was supposed to leave the hermitage, and I moved from there.  I've consistently felt that I made the right decision in leaving.  However, once I discerned I was going to leave the hermitage, for a while I was lamenting that I would no longer be vowing obedience to anyone.  Yet when I was a postulant, the prior, the head of the hermitage, explained that in vowing obedience, a monk vows obedience not only to the prior, but also to his fellow monks.  Thus when living in spiritual community, one does well to be obedient to one's fellow community members.  I feel called to be a Catholic Worker since I feel called to live in faith-based spiritual community as a Christian.  Yet I also feel called by God to be a Catholic Worker, since in this vocation I am presented with excellent opportunities to be obedient to my brothers and sisters.  

In living and working as a Catholic Worker, I also feel called, in my particular identity as a specific individual, to a life of obedience to the Catholic Church, a dynamic which I recently was blessed to discuss with other Catholic Workers.  Earlier this month many Catholic Workers, from over a dozen states and a few other countries, gathered in Las Vegas for the International Gathering of Catholic Workers, which usually occurs every five years.  During our time together there, we benefited from various workshops.  I attended one on the Catholic Worker movement in the context of the Catholic Church.  I am, first and foremost, a Catholic; it's critical for me to worship God at Mass and to go to confession and to celebrate God's blessings as a Catholic.  Then, if my vocation indeed is to be a Catholic Worker, it arises out of my identity as a Catholic, and part of my calling is to express my Catholicism in my ministry as a Catholic Worker.  To give you a little more context, not all persons working at Catholic Worker Houses are Catholic!  

Similarly, prayer serves as a foundation for whatever service I seek to render to others.  I feel called to serve, yet to serve while grounded in prayer, in study of the Word of God, and in meditation upon it in stillness and silence and solitude.  When I serve, I seek to bring the fruits of my contemplation into my service.  When I interact with others, I aim to maintain my awareness that Jesus is with me now, in this moment, and always.***  

Spending time in still, silent solitude, I try to listen.  Jesus speaks to each of us in the silence of our hearts.  There I feel His tender touch.  I aspire to care gently for Jesus in return when I assist a fellow Catholic Worker in running errands; when I minister to Him in the single mother raising her children without a spouse; and when I encounter Him living under a tarp near the freeway.  

* Luke 14:13-14 
**Matthew 25:31-40 
***Matthew 28:20