Where God Wants To Be Met

Spending time with others is key to developing a good relationship. If we want to be in a relationship with God, then, it makes sense to set aside a regular time to pray. However, we can’t expect God to conform to our prayer schedule. As Joyce Rupp learned from her spiritual director, “Meet God where God wants to be met, not where you plan for it.”

What if God wants to be met not in the silence of a church but in the midst of a challenging conversation? The 15th century Indian poet Kabir suggests as much in his poem, “I Had to Seek the Physician:”

“I had to seek the Physician because
of the pain this world caused me.

I could not believe what happened
when I got there — I found my Teacher.

Before I left, he said, “Up for a little
homework, yet?” “Okay,” I replied.

“Well, then, try thanking all the people
who have caused you pain.

They helped you
come to me.”*

Prayer has many benefits, but perhaps its greatest gift is to instill in us an alertness to God’s presence at all times — especially when we least expect it.

*From Love Poems from God by Daniel Ladinsky. New York: The Penguin Group; 2002.

Becoming God's Gateway

St. Benedict devoted the longest chapter in his Rule to the cultivation of humility. Certainly we can benefit greatly by remembering that “God is God and I am not.” However, it also can be discouraging to dwell on our human weakness. As we hear of countries engaged in bitter wars over land and natural resources, immigrants being shunned, and the rich getting richer while the poor struggle to survive, we wonder if the human race will ever grow beyond self-interest. As we ourselves continue to struggle with our own faults of ambition, judgment, addiction, and selfishness, we may wonder if we will ever be able to change.

The spiritual writer Henri Nouwen offers this perspective: “We have been chosen to make our own limited and very conditional love the gateway for the unlimited and unconditional love of God.”

God, who understands our human limitations very well, nonetheless chooses to work through our tentative and conditional attempts to love others to express God’s own love, mercy, and compassion. We cannot assume that our small acts of support and care won’t make a difference in the face of a world awash in greed and hard-heartedness. To fail to act because we don’t believe our actions will make a difference is a form of false humility. It also demonstrates a lack of faith in God’s ability to offer unlimited and unconditional love to the world.

St. John of the Cross summed up this situation succinctly: “Where there is no love, put love, and you will find love.” No effort on our part is too small to be a conduit to God’s blessings of peace, loving kindness, and acceptance.

My, My, My

St. Benedict viewed private ownership as a vice, and he was serious about uprooting it. Here is a list of what the monks in his monastery were provided: a cowl, tunic, sandals, shoes, belt, knife, stylus, needle, handkerchief, and writing tablet. Otherwise, no one was to give or receive anything without the permission of the abbot — no gifts from family members, not even a book. This is why, years ago, books used by the sisters at Mount St. Scholastica were inscribed with the words “Ad usum” — “For the use of” — a reminder that this item was not a private possession but was on loan and thus should be well cared for.

When studying Chapter 33 of the Rule of St. Benedict, “Monks and Private Ownership,” an oblate candidate recently decided to pay attention to how often she used the word “my” in conversation. She was astounded at how often she used the word, not only in regard to possessions but to relationships and intangible things as well — “my sister,” “my job,” “my plans.” Are these things we can actually own? What are we saying with our constant use of the word “my”?

St. Benedict likely was so adamantly opposed to owning possessions for a number of reasons. The practice lends itself to envy and greed rather than gratitude; it leads us to measure our worth by how much we own; it promotes self-sufficiency, rather than an awareness of our dependence on God; it places our focus on ourselves rather than on the needs of others; and it consumes much of our energy, which is directed toward acquiring and protecting our possessions rather than “spending” time with God, family, and friends.

We won’t be able to take any of our possessions with us after we die, so why burden ourselves with them now? Let’s give ourselves the pleasure of walking more lightly on the earth, relinquishing the possessions that weigh us down and trusting in God’s loving providence and care.

Finding Our Quiet Center

“Labor Day” has always seemed like a misnomer to me; because it is a holiday for most people, “Laborless Day” would seem more apt! It does seem odd to celebrate our labor by … well … not laboring. However, taking a break from our endeavors gives us a chance to savor the work we do, which is an important element of honoring it and finding satisfaction in it. Wisdom, who was with God during the creation of the universe (Proverbs 8: 22-31), apparently convinced God to rest after working for six days. It was such a good idea that God commanded us to do the same (“Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath”).

Sarah Orne Jewett told aspiring writers, “You must find your own quiet center of life, and write from that.” It is sage advice, no matter what work we undertake. And to find our own quiet center of life requires time apart for rest and reflection. Jesus found his quiet center of life during his times of solitude in the desert, in the mountains, by the sea, and in a garden. In his Rule, St. Benedict specified specific times every day for the members of his community to rest and read. Humans aren’t designed to work 24/7; when we try to do so, we suffer physical, emotional, and spiritual consequences.

To believe that the world will fall apart if we take a break from work is a sign of pride, especially when we know that Christ has affirmed the value of going off the clock now and then. So I hope you can enjoy your laborless day (or even the entire weekend!) Let’s honor the fact that God gave us a built-in need to sleep, dream, and be human be-ings, not just human do-ings.

A Benedictine Approach to Illness

In chapter 36 of his Rule, St. Benedict says, “Care of the sick must rank above and before all else.” This verse means one thing when you are the one providing the care and something else when you are the one being cared for.

Caring for those who are sick gives us the opportunity to practice compassion and put someone else’s needs above our own. It also teaches us patience and the need to reorder our priorities, as when we care for aging parents or a family member with a chronic illness for years on end. At the same time, being a caregiver is an active role that gives us the satisfaction of helping someone else.

Being sick and under the care of someone else is a very different situation. Our task here is to accept our limitations and practice humility, as we face a situation we can’t control (illness) and by necessity must rely on the assistance of others.

I’m accustomed to being in the caregiver role, but a recent bout with COVID flipped the script and thrust me into the role of patient. Sisters in the monastery who have COVID are quarantined in their bedroom (except for trips to the bathroom) until they have two consecutive negative test results. This means someone must deliver “meals on wheels” to us three times a day, cover any of our regular household chores, and assume any of our monastery assignments, such as leading midday prayer or being lector at Mass.

This situation quickly leads to gratitude for the faithful care of others and appreciation for community life with its built-in support system. It’s also a reminder to enjoy our health while we have it, because it won’t last forever, and it provides an opportunity to practice giving up control, for that too will one day slip away.

It turns out that one of the ways to know Christ and walk the road to eternal life is not just visiting and caring for the sick but practicing patience and humility when we ourselves are ill.

The Pursuit of Happiness

The Declaration of Independence famously states that we are endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights, and that among these are “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

If God has given us the right to pursue happiness, what is the best way to go about doing that?

Psalm 1 give us a clue: “If you would be happy, never walk with the wicked….” In other words, keep good company. Don’t hang around with those who think happiness means gaining wealth, fame, and the satisfaction of our desires at any cost. St. Paul gives us another hint in his second letter to the Corinthians: “God loves a cheerful giver.” Apparently we are to share what we have without reluctance, recognizing that we are called to be generous with others as God is generous with us.

And what example does Jesus provide about how to be happy? He kept company with a motley crew of friends. He demonstrated how to find a balance between serving others and having time for prayer and rest. He often attended joyous celebrations — weddings, banquets, religious festivals. He told us to love God and love our neighbor as ourself, linking our happiness to the happiness of others.

St. Benedict devised a rule to help us do just that. He created a way for diverse people to live together amicably in a communal setting. He broke up the day into specific times for prayer, work, meals, leisure, and sleep so as to avoid pietism, workaholism, gluttony, and indolence. He allowed wine at table and extra food when the occasion warranted it. He set up schedules for the monks to serve each other through kitchen work, liturgical duties, and care of the sick.

Does this way of life lead to happiness? Most people eventually come to learn that happiness isn’t a continual state. However, it does pop up frequently when we find contentment by leading a useful life in the company of others. In the prologue to his Rule, St. Benedict says, “As we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love.” It sounds like a pretty happy life to me.

The Workings of God

Ruth Pfau, a medical missionary who spent more than 50 years in Pakistan ministering to persons who had leprosy and were injured by land mines, knew a thing or two about service to others. She offered the following perspective: “Leading a life committed to service does protect the soul from wounds. These are the workings of God.”

How does leading a life committed to service protect the soul from wounds? I suspect it has to do with the ways that serving others protects us from pride and instills us with humility and gratitude. When we put the needs of others above our own desires, we come to understand that we are not the center of the universe. We realize that others often are carrying burdens much greater than our own, and we become more cognizant of and thankful for our blessings. Jesus understood these benefits, which is one reason why he spent much of his life serving others and told us to do the same.

St. Benedict also grasped the importance of service in the spiritual life. In chapter 35 of his Rule, “Kitchen Servers of the Week,” he says, “The brothers should serve one another. Consequently, no one will be excused from kitchen service unless he is sick or engaged in some important business of the monastery, for such service increases reward and fosters love.” In Chapter 36, “The Sick Brothers,” he stipulates, “Care of the sick must rank above and before all else, so they may truly be served as Christ.”

Although service of others may entail a dramatic life change, such as joining the Peace Corps or studying to become a nurse, most often it means “doing little things with great love,” as Mother Teresa counseled. The acts of cleaning the kitchen, making sure the household doesn’t run out of toilet paper, and providing soup to a sick family member or friend aren’t earth shattering, but they make life more congenial and help others understand that they are loved and cared for, while strengthening our own soul. Thus when we engage in these simple acts, we are participating in the workings of God, which can only lead to a life of goodness and kindness for ourselves as well as others.