Prayerbook for Lay Cistercians, a Dream?

I suppose the idea is a dream, but what if it wasn't?

A little explanation. One of the things that makes Cistercian worship is the liturgy. Especially the antiphons, and remembrance of the virgin. The antiphons change daily, and they are easy because it's just a verse from the psalm itself...except on feasts and solemnities. It would be nice to have those antiphons. Some are unique to the Cistercians Liturgy.

The remembrance of the virgin is changeable by season. They are very nice, and are an obvious addition to the Liturgy practiced in every house of the OCSO, and the OC. It would be nice to have them for private use.

For Vigils a large selection of the Cistercian Fathers and Mothers can be used for the second reading, usually called the non-scriptural reading. In that way people could approach the early writings in selections without adding unnecessarily to the number of books needed to say the Hours.

I'll finish this entry with the statement that the Benedictine Oblates have their own prayerbook, honoring their tradition. Other lay organizations have done the same. If we profess to love the Cistercian way, then let us do the work of this prayerbook, so may always share with the monks and nuns the Opus Dei that is a "sacrifice of praise." The Liturgy is a very important part of their lives, and the tradition.

11 Days Non Smoker

Well I've made it this far, might as well go on and finish it up. I have to say I love being a non-smoker, and now when the urge strikes, thoughts of how nice it is to not smoke keep me faithful. Amen.


Today I will complete at very long paper that I've been working on for two months. It's about how the Constitutions and Statutes of the Cistercian Order of the Strict Observance, has nothing in it that prevents us from living the life in a new way, but with the essentials of the Charism. I am in no way saying that Lay Cistercians do not already do that. It's just a small contribution to a discussion I would love to get going, in print, exploring the literary illumination of the emergence of the Lay Charism.

People should be writing about this, not just me. In the Cistercian Studies Quarterly, there has only been eleven articles with the word Lay in the title, and six of those deal with Lay Brothers in the 12th Century.

Solemnity of the Holy Founders: Seventh day in the Season of No Smoking

Sts. Robert, Alberic and Stephen.

They are the men who went out into the no-mans-land and founded a new way of life. They challenge me to do the same. In a way, I have. Stopping smoking has shown me a number of things about spiritual mastery. The main thing discovered is that I have no mastery at all, things master me!

Or, it feels like it. Awareness is the key. Detaching from the outer self, the self of slavery, it's possible to one day transform the outer self to reflect inner self. No longer then am I slave to this thing, or to that thing, or to any "thing" at all. That, my friends, is my idea of a resurrection body. One where the soul actually inhabits the body, and is not pushed to the closets by addictive behaviors.

Since today is day seven in the Season of No Smoking, I can say that my awareness of the sludge of inner self is not the last word on the subject. It's becoming clearer to me that this gradual clearing out of the phelgm of sin is a kind of transformation. It is also penance.

Conversion of St. Paul

St. Paul. A man who always gets a reaction out of people, for the good or the bad. Very few people are entirely comfortablewith Paul. I think it is safe to assume from the Bible that Paul was a know-it-all who was also just a bit on the violent side. Where else could the necessity to turn over Christians to the Temple authorities come from if not violence?

Paul was well educated, an intellectual, while Peter and the rest of the apostles were not. Paul gave a voice to the new movement. Paul is the one who coined the great phrases we so readily associate with statements of personal faith. "I know who I believe in." Or, "In Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, no male nor female." Or, "You stupid, Galatians!"

Paul never spoke much--at least that we know of--about his own spiritual life. That was a subject he addressed as seldom as possible. We have one magnificent statement in which he refers to himself in the third person. "I know someone in Christ who, fourteen years ago (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows), was caught up to the third heaven." I. Cor. 12.2. The remainder of the chapter is purely astonishing. He only spoke of inner life once, because once was all it took to show that not me, nor anyone I know, can even suppose they have been to the "third heaven."

The most important text for today is his conversion experience. Because I am artsy I've included some picture links that just hit the spot today.

The first one is to a Caravaggio, in Rome. Sister Wendy, the Art History Nun, said that she loved this one because it put Paul's experience in the here and now, in the world of horses.

It wouldn't be kosher to put any art here without this link to Michelangelo, at the Cappella Paolina, Palazzi Pontifici, Vatican.

And last we have a Rembrandt.

Happy Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul.

Monday, Whoo Hoo!

I haven't had a cigarette since Saturday morning. That means this is Day 3 of not smoking. Is it a challenge? Oh yeah! It's hard work to not pick up a cigarette and smoke it to the stub. I' have teased myself by bringing my fingers to my lips as if I were smoking, and saying out loud, "pain and death. This is the way of pain and death."

So far it has worked. There are some spiritual lessons in all this, but the most helpful for my reflections is how total the mastery over my body is the power of that Nicotene addiction. For someone who is trying to keep his focus on God, that has not been a pleasant thing to face.

It is giving me a chance to observe what tricks my mind is playing on me to rationalize how good it is to smoke, how I need to smoke, how smoking yadda yadda yadda.

So, whoever is out there, please pray for me right now. And I will pray for you.

Smoking News in Ordinary Time

Last week I posted an entry saying that on Friday I would stop smoking. Well, I went to the stop smoking class on Friday and they gave me a sheet of paper divided into half hour segments. For a week then I entered every cigarette smoked, and it added up to a lot. It was surprising to find out I was supposed to smoke last week. So, I did.

Yesterday they said to go buy the patches. Today is my first smokeless day!!!

It's making me think about how addictions must in some way interact with the Incarnation.

Yesterday I bought Fully Human, Full Divine: An Interactive Christology, by Michael Casey. In the Preface he writes, "This book needs to read slowly." Trust me, he means it. Let's take this sentence. "The humanity and divinity of Jesus do not subsist side by side and independent like chalk and cheese." A pretty arresting statement, don't you think? I'm only a few pages into the book but it's clear even now that this is a flesh and blood, meat and fluids, Jesus.

That view of Jesus makes me ask the question, how does the Incarnation and my humanity, interact with addiction. Here is another quote. "The incarnation makes no sense without the corresponding doctrine of divinization." This leads to my thinking that beyond the health needs, my stopping smoking is also in answer to a call by Jesus, to live beyond my own humanity.

That matters because I am quite nervous without the bringing of a cigarette to my lips every twenty minutes. I have a patch on, yes. But I keep feeling it. Okay, I accept that, and see it as a penance for having got hooked on it in the first place. Praise be to God. Another quote.

"If we do not accept our own concrete humanity, we will be less capable of appreciating the humanity of Jesus. Otherwise our love and admiration for him may take the form of refusing to see in him the qualities we experience most in our own humanness. We project onto Jesus a "perfection" that is, in fact, incompatible with humanity. Jesus becomes more like an angel than a man. By thus making the incarnate Word superhuman--one who was only slightly like us--we deny the reality of the self-emptying of the Son of God. We also weaken the link that our common nature gives us. If my humanity was not good enough for Jesus, if his divinity required something better, then how can it be said of him that he was "like us in all things--except for sin?"

That was a long quote, but it is enough to keep me from smoking, and to continue offering it all to Jesus. It gives me a strange comfort. Strange? Yes, any juncture with the unseen is strange by human standards. So, my humanity, addicted to nicotine as it is, now gives it away for love of God within me. Jesus said he was with us always. I believe that. It is the only thing that is keeping me going, the persistent love of Jesus for me. God knows that I have little enough to offer to receive such love and honor. And, it is not for me only. That's the most amazing part.

Ordinary Friday

My oldest niece came down last night to spend the night with us. My mom was really glad to see her, and I was too. However, I got up this morning to go to mass only to find that she is parked behind me and there is no way to get my car out. Instead, I said morning prayers, read the selection for today from the RB, and decided to continue the morning devotions by blogging.

My blog doesn't have a large number of readers, in fact I know of only two readers for sure. In a way that delights me, because with a large number of readers I would have to be much more careful in what I said. As stated in the first entry this blog is a spiritual journal, a way for me to keep track my spiritual life. It is done in the public sphere because the spiritual life needs to be shared. That's not always been the case, but at this time I feel it's the best way to go.

It's odd that I should keep this blog, because one of the things that annoys me in life is spiritual writing. Odd as that sounds, it's the truth. If you are a careful bible reader, and attentive to the liturgy, are reasonably well read, then it's easy to gather together a selection of phrases, arrange them into some order and voila! you have spiritual writing. The only problem with such writing is it's all flowers and no meat. That kind of writing is what I want to not do. Just because a few tired phrases are strung together does not mean that the author has anything to say beyond decorative sentences.

If you look at most spiritual writing it's the same thing over and over again, said in different words, but always falling back on the tried and true platitudes which help absolutely no one. On the other hand, the part of our brain that handles symbols can, and does, find selections upon which it can develop a deeper understanding of a life in God.

A challenge I have set myself is to read spiritual writings and try to find what the author is really saying. It doesn't take long to realize that the majority of what is out there has less to do with you and me, and more to do with the person who wrote it. We need more writing that says how exactly we are to understand a "new life in Christ." More on how that life works, and less on the pretty phrases would be very useful. Of course, that would naturally limit the number of books written, because most people don't have words to express that life.

My prayer then is to be honest with myself, and my two readers; to not fall back on phrases we all know and have invested with some personal meaning, without making absolutely clear what that meaning is.

Second Tuesday of Ordinary Time

Do not envy the wicked;
do not be jealous of those that do evil.
They will dry up as quickly as hay;
they will wither like the grass.
Psalm 36/37
(depending your preference for Greek or Hebrew numbering)

Psalm 36/37 is the first psalm of The Office of Readings for today. When I read the office -- and it's much closer to 8am than to 4am -- it sometimes occurs to me what the effect of the words of the psalm must have on a sleep addled brain. For many people the first hour of being awake is not a happy experience as the brain starts running a high frequency that they simply cannot control. For depressed people it's the hour when all the inadequacies of life make their morning appearance.

I prefer to try to say the prayers. Try is the right word, because sometimes I just can't do it. I get up, make coffee, read the news, and by then it's time to leave for mass. And yes, sometimes there is depression, but that is not the norm. Usually it's a matter of time. Still, reading the first psalm of the first office of the day, has a decided impact. In fact, by reading it a little later, I am more able to see the spiritual application in the psalm.

"Do not envy the wicked." The words 'envy' and 'wicked' packed with meaning. Envy is considered one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Envy is not a weak sensation of 'wish-I-had-that,' it is a powerful emotion akin to lust. In the psalm we're told not to envy the wicked. but what could the wicked have that I should envy? Very likely the answer would be money, or beautiful lovers, or possessions brought by cheating.

"They will dry up as quickly as hay;
they will wither like the grass."

They will dry up because there is no Love to keep them moist and fertile. We've all heard the expression "money isn't everything," and the underlying meaning of the expression is apt to the reason for the wicked drying up like hay. It is like being given a prescription and then eating throwing away the medicine and eating the bottle.

Here is the the promise as it comes later in the psalm, and my closing.

Entrust your journey to the Lord, and hope in him:
and he will act.
He will make your uprightness shine like the light,
your judgement like the sun at noon.

Ordinary Water to Wine

The weather is all wrong. I went to mass today without a coat...in January. It's been dark for two or three days now, and tomorrow promises to be dark. The Rolling Fork River is about to come out of it's banks, water is standing everywhere. I suppose we should just be grateful it isn't snow. Still, where is winter?

Today's gospel was the Miracle at Cana. Jesus tells Mary, "woman, what is it to me?" Mary says to the servants, "do whatever he tells you." There's nothing said about an argument, no discussion of the subject, she just says to the servants "do whatever he tells you." Presumably, she walks away at that point, confident as a mother would be, that Jesus will do what she asked. Of course, he did, and it is remembered as his first miracle. Is it possible that Jesus was reluctant to begin his public ministry? Did Mary finally decide that enough is enough, and get on with it?

We will never know. There is something important here about Mary. Once again she is a not so passive participant in the Incarnation. Perhaps the human Jesus was at the wedding just to have a good time. He had friends and followers, what did he need to go and start a bunch of trouble by turning water into wine?

Mary was having none of that. In a very biblical way she told him, "get off your duff and get to work."

Ordinary Time, Week One, Friday

Oh how I do not love the name of ordinary time. But I've sung that song enough. This post was almost called "Friday and Penance," had I not seen a past post called "Friday is Penitential." Crucifixion day. Hanging on a cross day. It's time to die day. All the things we don't like about the Passion and Crucifixion are the very things we're supposed to think about on Friday. Now how cheery is that?

Of course, on the other side of Friday is the end of the secular work week. A great cause for rejoicing. Restaurants and Taverns, Bars and Buffets will be packed tonight; pursuits of love, present or possible; pursuits of lust, an ever increasing beast; pursuits of forgetfulness; all will be played out in the public forum, on the day of Friday. Is there a connection?

I think there must be. We become free from work on Friday, but we also come face to face with the Cross, and all it implies. Work is the distraction from the agony of living in the sometimes hell we call our inner selves. Friday night removes that distraction and we are left with the raw fact of death on a cross. The death on a cross that Fridays calls us to face is our own.

This isn't meant to be a pessimistic view. Quite the opposite. Without the cross there is no resurrection. Without the resurrection there is no Christ abiding in us. If we do not face our own death on a cross then we cannot rise to a new life. So, Friday is an occasion for rejoicing. We remember the cross not to be morbid, we remember it as the doorway to new life. St. Paul had a lot to say about the cross. I found an interesting quote on this web page.

"The crucifixion of Jesus is not about the physical suffering of Jesus on the cross. It is rather about the obedience of Jesus toward his Father, in particular, toward his Father's call to give up his life for the sake of the enemies of God, that is, all humans."

As Lay Cistercians, the above may be taken to say that we are called to unmask our false selves. Beyond labels like false self/true self, the task is to continually find, and remove all things that stand between us and our true selves in God.

Monthly Mass for the Dead

Today's mass was the monthly remembering of the dead. The Intercessions at Lauds included "for all who died this night, and all who will die this day." That struck me as profound, the thought of entering, by prayer, into an event of such importance--death. As the dead are not beyond our love, they are not beyond our prayers, but remembering those who died last night, and those who will die today, makes my soul expand. I'm one who thinks that time has very little meaning to God, because all eternity, to God, may well be now. God exists in the perpetual now. Past and present have meaning to us as earthbound creatures.

When the heart is cast in prayer around the earth, to consider all those who die as a result of torture, starvation, having become lost and being bitten by a snake to die in some seemingly God forsaken wilderness, separated from their loved ones, or in a hospital bed surrounded by family, we realize that prayer by one person reaches to the ends of the earth. The one who sinks into unconsciousness, alone, is not really alone if someone prays.

Gregory of Nyssa

Today is the memorial of St. Gregory of Nyssa. There is a very interesting Episcopal church in San Francisco, called St. Gregory of Nyssa. Their site has a number of good photographs.

Fr. Allen celebrated mass this morning, and the first half of the gospel reading was Jesus healing Peter's mother-in-law. The second half told how Jesus left the house before dawn to go and pray, and when they found him, told him everyone was looking for him, Jesus told them that it was time to go teach in the other towns.

For some reason it struck me that the need to leave that Jesus felt had to have come from his prayer. In other words, he went outside to pray, and hears that it's time to move on. I know that the gospel chronology is not actual, or even important, but it is interesting that Jesus answers the apostles with a non sequitur.

I have a feeling this will be my lectio text for the day.

On another note, my coughing is much better, and I have energy. Yay!

Day 1 In Ordinary Time

It's interesting to note the coming and going of the holy seasons. During advent "all creation waits with eager longing" for the Incarnation, which we hope is to happen in our hearts. Then Christmas comes, and it is a season containing many solemnities of its own, culminating with the Batptism of Christ. The point is the Church wishes to make the Incarnation seem new to us each year.

Has the Incarnation become old news? What a horrible thought, but seriously, how many people do you know that give more than a passing nod to the mystery itself? I'm asking myself do I personally take the Incarnation seriously? What are the points of glue/sin that prevent me from allowing the Incarnation to happen in my heart?

On the third week of Advent I got sick. On the fourth Sunday of Advent the car died on the way to mass. Between downtown Bardstown and my house, some five miles north, the car died a total of seven times. So, I was sick, it was cold, and we had no car for a week. All of that means no morning mass at Gethsemani for Steve. On top of that, on Saturday night, eve of Epiphany, I relapsed for two days. That prevented me attending the Lay Cistercian meeting, for which I am truly sorry.

I have hidden from this blog those things of late which have made my life unpleasant. This is a spiritual life blog, not an exercise in journaling. When physically ill it is hard to put thoughts about the spiritual life into words. All of this is preface to a startling realization, if I am not able to attend morning mass at Gethsemani, the fuel of my spiritual life runs low. Does that point to some weakness in my faith? It must, but I'm hard pressed to see how. So short a time, and so weak my faith. I say that because I cannot find the reason for it elsewhere, it must be in my faith. When I go every morning, I'm in touch with God. When I can't go every morning, I begin to float off toward the sharks. What a humiliating discovery!

The very root of faith is hope. If hope is all I have, then I have enough to have Christ. I do have hope. Is that enough? What else is missing? Do I lack love? Not receiving love, but giving love. Perhaps I do not love enough. No, it's that I don't love myself enough.

So, Friday the 12th is the last day that I will smoke cigarettes for the rest of my life. If it is not too late to make a difference--Praise God. If it is too late to make a difference--Praise God.

There is another aspect to my current spiritual state, a dear friend who is suffering in his soul. He needs a great deal of prayer and attention. It is very stressful because I hate to see anyone, but especially my best friend, suffer so much. His own self is tearing him apart. All that I can do is pray for him. And selfishly, I have to confess that it drains me of spiritual energy. Still, I wouldn't have it any other way.