Rewriting Our Story

Halloween is magical because it is a day when we give ourselves permission to create a new story for ourselves. I’m a princess! I’m a wizard! I’m a superhero! It’s no wonder that dressing up for Halloween has extended beyond childhood and is now practiced by many adults as well. In fact, in 2018, around 9 billion dollars was spent on Halloween costumes, decorations, candy, and party supplies in the United States. The lure of creating a new story for ourselves is great indeed.

Halloween is a wonderful opportunity to practice re-creation, which isn’t limited to just one day a year. We all have created stories about who we are: “I’m Mom’s favorite.” “I’m a great athlete.” “I never get sick.” “I hate swimming.” When presented with evidence to the contrary, we expend a great deal of energy getting angry and upset and insisting that our preferred story is true. Instead, we can draw on the lesson of Halloween and rewrite our story so it is more expansive, more life giving: “Mom has a lot of love to give all her children.” “I’m grateful to have a body that allows me to enjoy sports.” “Being sick is giving me a chance to recharge my batteries.” “Wow, swimming is a lot easier on an aging body than other forms of exercise!”

God is always creating something new, and so should we, by rewriting parts of our own evolving story each day as we grow in our capacity to participate in God’s life of love, forgiveness, and grace.

Walking in Someone Else's Shoes

We need a new national holiday: “Walk a Mile in Someone Else’s Shoes” Day. Such a day is necessary because we are losing the capability to imagine what the world is like for anyone other than ourselves.

On this day, we would be given a picture and story of who we will be that day—someone of a different race, age, sexual orientation, social class, health status, or body type, for example. I’m sure that computer programmers could develop a video game that would illustrate the challenges faced by our avatar as he or she attempts to get a job after being released from prison, access health care without insurance, or get on a bus when confined to a wheelchair. After exercising our imagination, we would then vote in our regional, state, and national elections (or face penalties for not fulfilling this critical civic duty).

As Margaret Atwood noted, “Oppression involves a failure of the imagination: the failure to imagine the full humanity of other human beings.” Imagining the full humanity of others is only the first step to overcoming oppression, however. As Albert Einstein said, we must then overcome the “optical delusion” that we are separate from everyone and everything else that lives. As Chief Seattle so eloquently observed, “Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.”

It’s not surprising that empathy is dwindling in our world, because it isn’t easy to feel the pain of others. But without empathy we don’t feel their joys either, and we become imprisoned in our own very limited perspective of what the world encompasses. Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes (or boots or sandals or flip-flops) is a time-honored practice of appreciating what it means to be part of the Body of Christ and to live a fully realized life. Let's get walking.

Being an Instrument of Kindness

When it comes right down to it, we don’t know a lot of particulars about God. However, the person who wrote Psalm 33 offers us some insight: “God loves justice and right; the earth is full of the kindness of the Lord.”

If God loves justice and right, then we please God when we advocate for justice and right. If God values kindness, then it is a privilege to be an instrument of kindness in the world.

Studies show that plants grow better when we speak to them, and that is certainly the case at the Mount. Our plant caretaker, Sr. Delores Dolezal, offers a constant stream of affirmation to the plants she cares for, and they are flourishing. It is no different for humans. If we can speak kind words to our plants, we can also make it a habit to offer kind words to the people we meet each day. Then the earth will be even more full of the kindness of the Lord, and justice is more likely to flourish.

Kindness is not complicated, but it does require time and attention. Are we willing to make that offering to God, who already offers it to us?

Balancing Stability and Conversion

One of the paradoxes of Benedictine life is that we take a vow of stability (being rooted in one place) while seeking constant conversion (being open to change). Fortunately, teachers in this great balancing act are all around us, and their lessons are particularly striking in the season of autumn. I’m speaking, of course, of earth’s great gurus, the trees!

Trees spend a lifetime standing in the same spot, and yet we cannot deny that they are constantly changing; sap begins flowing in the spring, leaves sprout, photosynthesis occurs, winds bend branches, seeds ripen and fall to earth, water and nutrients are absorbed from the soil, birds and bugs and squirrels take up residence, leaves change color and flutter away, and bare branches are highlighted by ice and snow. Furthermore, although trees stay in place, interconnection with other beings occurs underground as spreading roots communicate with roots from other trees.

Like the trees, we do not need to move from place to place to awaken to the life within us. St. Benedict believed that being itinerant is a hindrance to the spiritual life because it is a means of escaping uncomfortable situations or truths about ourselves we would rather not face. When we choose to stay put and observe our long-held unconscious beliefs, attachments, aversions, coping mechanisms, and desires, we gain access to light and wisdom. As the trees know, participating in ongoing conversion leads to the good life, whether it is spring, summer, fall, or winter. May we join them in the great balancing act of stability and conversion!

Resisting the Tumbleweed Prayer

Psalm 83, which we prayed at the Mount this morning, includes an evocative plea to God about how to deal with our enemies:

Reduce them, God, to tumbleweed,

to straw in the wind.

I am tempted to offer this prayer when I hear about the many politicians and their donors who are bloated with wealth and yet refuse to let destitute refugees find a home in the United States. It would be poetic justice for these currently powerful men and women to become dessicated tumbleweeds driven from place to place and never finding rest. However, as the psalmist knew, although we can make suggestions to God about how to deal with our enemies, justice ultimately is in God’s hands. If the people whose actions trouble us need to be humbled to be redeemed, we can trust that is what will happen (maybe even with our assistance when we vote them out of office and boycott their businesses!).

I’m actually finding it easier to pity those who clutch worldly treasure so tightly that they are unable to accept the infinitely greater treasure that God offers us—treasure that we won’t have to relinquish when we die. One day, whether on earth or in the hereafter, when these men and women realize that the self they spent so much time protecting and pampering is nothing but an empty shell and they are faced with the immense suffering they inflicted on others, they will endure great anguish. As much as I their actions infuriate me, I don’t wish that on anyone. Thus, rather than imagining them turning into tumbleweeds, it is better to pray that their hardened hearts may turn into hearts of flesh. After all, if we would deny them the opportunity for conversion, we risk hardening of our own hearts, which will only bring more harm to ourselves and the world. The world has enough tumbleweeds. What we need is a greater number of compassionate hearts.

Expanding the Boundaries of Our Heart

Some events can’t help but get your attention. When they happen not once but three times within a few weeks, it’s time to figure out what message we need to take to heart.

A month ago, a sister in the Mount community died within a week after a mass was found in her chest. Earlier this week, the 70-year-old brother-in-law of a Mount sister died suddenly in his home of a likely heart attack. Yesterday, I received word that the 70-year-old husband of a friend in St. Louis died suddenly of a heart attack after taking a walk in the park.

The message I take from these sudden departures is that I need to prepare my heart for death, so I will be ready if it arrives unexpectedly. How to do that? By broadening the boundaries of my heart to welcome Christ who already comes to me every day in all the persons I meet. I will then be ready to meet Christ at the doorway of death when I arrive there.

Last night at our weekly poetry gathering, Sr. Deborah read the poem Abou Ben Adhem by Leigh Hunt. In it, Abou Ben Adhem awakens at night to find an angel writing a list of the names of those who love the Lord. He asks the angel if his name is on the list, and the angel says no. Ben Adhem then says, “I pray thee, then, write me as one who loves his fellow men.” The poem concludes with these lines:

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

May your own heart be blessed with broad boundaries this day!

One of Those Kind of Days

Today at breakfast when I discovered that my egg was very soft, I broke off the top part of the shell, put it in the microwave, checked it after 30 seconds, and set the timer for another 30 seconds. Moments later, it exploded, creating quite a mess. “Oh, it’s going to be one of those kind of days,” I thought—one of days when the illusion that I am in control literally blows up in my face!

We all prefer days when everything unfolds according to our liking—perfectly cooked eggs, pleasant weather conditions, productivity at work, engaging prayer time, enjoyable conversations with friends, our favorite foods at dinner, and time with a good book, for example. However, the exploding egg, the layer of ice on the car, the constant interruptions, the dryness of prayer, testy dining companions, the smell and taste of cooked liver, and lack of time to read our favorite new book end up being more effective teachers in helping us move beyond our own desires into acceptance of what each day brings.

Today I was called to forgive reality for being what it is: eggs explode in the microwave when their yolks are not pierced, and I did not know that yolks need to be pierced before cooking eggs in the microwave. Now that my illusion of being in control has been shattered, I can surrender to the mystery of whatever else this day will present to me. Although cleaning egg out of the microwave is not my favorite way to start the day, it was ultimately a gift to have my energy directed into curiosity and acceptance instead of the attempt to bend the universe to my will!

Directed by the Spirit

In the October 2018 issue of Give Us This Day, Professor Florence Gillman notes, “…believers should understand that their fundamental relationship with Christ Jesus, which would lead to inheriting the kingdom, is a life where one lives in and is directed by the Spirit.” At the October 2018 Senate meeting at the Mount, Dr. Edward Mulholland offered a beautiful example of what can happen when we allow ourselves to be directed by the Spirit.

Dr. Mulholland came across a video about refugees who were fleeing from Syria to the Greek island of Lesbos and felt called to spend his six-week summer break working in one of the camps there. By distributing food and clothing, Dr. Mulholland and other volunteers from around the world acknowledged the plight of the traumatized refugees and attempted to meet some of their basic needs. This response to direction by the Spirit led the volunteers and refugees to take their place in the kingdom of God, which is marked by compassion, dignity, and easing of suffering through shared relationships. In relating the story of his trip to us at the Mount, Dr. Mulholland helped us walk a while in the sandals of the refugees, widening the circle of the kingdom we are all called to inherit.

Living in the Spirit requires an openness to being upended, for that is a consequence of the dying to self that comes with having a fundamental relationship with Christ. We don’t know from day to day what direction the Spirit might give us, which can be disconcerting, but it also helps us stay awake to ways we can participate in the life of God, whom we seek.

The Glory of Humility

The book of Sirach has much wisdom to share, including this gem: “For great is the power of God; by the humble he is glorified” (Sirach 3:20). The following poem is a meditation on this insight.

Glory

We marvel at magnificent mountains,

swelling seas, exploding supernovas,

and lofty sequoias

We venerate extraordinary athletes,

                                                             towering intellects, multimillionaires,

                                                             and powerful politicians

                                                            We supersize our servings, our square

                                                            footage, our interior cabin space,

                                                            and our egos

                                                            Yet God the Creator chooses to dwell

                                                            in the infinitesimal part of the atom

                                                            that is not empty space

                                                            The Holy One came to us as an infant,

                                                            chose to be a servant, and said

                                                            the last shall be first

                                                            Achieving humility is much more

                                                            difficult than amassing wealth,

                                                            power, and fame

                                                            And so it is the humble who earn

                                                            a place among the heavenly host,

                                                            singing an eternal Alleluia

Becoming Love's Apprentice

In a poem entitled A Night in Ireland, Anne Porter wrote about a dream in which she stumbled across the door to heaven and was about to knock, whereupon:

Someone spoke to me

I think it was an angel

He said You’ve come too soon

Go back into the towns

Live there as love’s apprentice

And God will give you his kingdom

So that’s why we’re here on earth—to be love’s apprentice! Apprentices bind themselves to a skilled worker to learn a trade, art, or calling through practical experience. Thus, if we are called to learn the art of love, we must make a covenant with a skilled worker and practice, practice, practice.

Christians make their apprenticeship covenant with the greatest lover of all, Jesus, who taught us compassion through the story of the Good Samaritan, forgiveness through the parable of the Prodigal Son, service by washing the feet of his disciples, and dying to self through obedience to his own call to share God’s love with the world.

It is our willingness to be love’s apprentice that opens the door of God’s kingdom to us. May we meet there at the threshold to new life!

Bequeathing Our Lived Wisdom

The book of Job, a lengthy exploration of suffering and our relationship with God, concludes with this simple verse: “Then Job died, old and full of years.”

What are the implications of being “full of years” when we die? It sseems like the longer we live, the more we forget; for example, do you remember what did you did to celebrate your 15th birthday, let alone what you had for lunch a  week ago today? Although many of the specifics of our life fade over time, it is also true that the stories of all those years is contained in our body’s cellular memory, often appearing as scars, graying hair, laugh lines, and an emotional response to certain aromas.

Ah, but what about when the container of our body dies? As it turns out, the imprint of our life remains through our interactions with the earth and with other beings. The life of St. Benedict is a prime example; more than 1500 years after his death, many religious and oblates throughout the world are living containers of his wisdom as we seek to live according to the rule he left us.

Although most of us don’t leave a written contribution to the world’s wisdom literature, we do leave behind the lived wisdom of being “full of years.” What we say and do matters. Every day we can choose to renew our commitment to listen, to serve, and to observe God’s wonders, so we can leave a legacy of love and joy in the world’s repository of wisdom for those who follow us and with whom we are already connected in the body of Christ.

Let Your Heart Be Your Guide

All of us have a primary world view about human nature (humans are intrinsically good or evil), God’s nature (God judges/punishes or God loves/forgives), and the purpose of life (to be successful or to love and be loved). We often are unaware of our own world view, even though it directs our feelings, thoughts and actions every day.

Our world view would appear to stem from our mind/brain, but research is showing that the heart controls the brain much more than previously thought. For example, thanks to the 40,000 sensory neurons in the heart, the heart relays more information to the brain on a daily basis than vice versa. As noted by Joel Kahn, MD, the neurons within the heart enable the heart to learn, remember, and make decisions independent of the brain's cerebral cortex. Furthermore, the heart emits an electrical field 60 times greater in amplitude than the activity in the brain and an electromagnetic field 5,000 times stronger than that of the brain. What would it mean if our world view came from our heart rather than our head?

If we want our world view to be in sync with that of Jesus—which, after all, is our goal as Christians—then we need to pray through the heart rather than through the head. The following prayer offered by Fr. Ed Hays in Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim can be our guide: “Broaden the boundaries of my heart that it may encompass more than it did yesterday.” Whereas in the medical world an enlarged heart is a danger sign, spiritually it is a sign of an expansive world view in which love and compassion guide our choices. As it turns out, "Let your heart be your guide" is wise advice indeed!

Kaleidoscopic Spirituality

With life constantly changing within us and around us, the world feels like a very complex place. We can choose whether to respond to that complexity with apprehension, irritation, and bewilderment or with curiosity, surrender, and wonder.

The world God created is somewhat like a kaleidoscope. We all have our own particular shape and color that do not change, but we are also in constant movement, coming together and moving away from other parts of creation in a flowing tapestry. Because we are one small piece of the picture, we generally can’t grasp the beauty of the image we are helping to create. Thus we can choose to surrender to the dance, trusting that wherever we find ourselves each moment is good and contributes to the beauty of the whole, or we can create a blockage by refusing to move from one particular place, forcing life to flow around us instead of through us.

Knowing we are part of a kaleidoscopic universe instills a sense of gratitude for each person, animal, plant, and element we encounter, for we all have a place in God’s creation and contribute to the unfolding of life, in all its complexity. We will never fully understand the hows and whys of the universe, but we shouldn’t let that keep us from enjoying and taking our rightful place among its many wonders.