Marketplace Monastics

I was at a Women’s Retreat once, attended by nearly an hundred of us, and I was sent to relay the message of a time change, while the others were still getting dressed. I went from room to room, greeted at each door by women in various stages of readiness, from those early birds who were coiffed and made up and sipping their coffee, to those who still lay abed with friendly calamity swirling around them.

In one room, and I can see her to this day, one woman was kneeling in prayer beside her bed. In a pink robe and pajamas, with at least four other women calling for hairspray and teasing and munching on contraband donuts, she didn’t look up, she didn’t seem to notice or be at all perturbed by her surroundings, she just continued in prayer. I delivered my message, stayed to chat with the others for a few minutes, and went on. That was more than twenty years ago. I’ve always had her in my heart’s file cabinet under “monastic.”

Maybe she was showing off. I got to know her rather well later on, and knowing her, I don’t think so. Both she and her husband have fixed devotional habits. Over the years I’ve met and talked with many who have a first-thing routine. Some quote a Scripture, some keep their Bibles by their beds and read before they get up, and some do as she did, kneeling in prayer before they go anywhere or do anything else.

Those are handrails. They keep us on the path. How many times in Scripture do we hear of those who commanded their souls, their mouths, as did King David (Psalm 17:3,) their eyes, as did Job (ch. 31:1.) Daniel commanded his day, and at his life’s peril. Grace is given that we may take command and bestowed that we might remain in pursuit of the Lord we love, that in our weakness, we will be strong to run and to finish our course. Grace lets us monitor our own hearts and set our own route, as the Holy Spirit directs, and if desire for God is the wind, grace is the effort by which we hoist sails. It is not possible that the Lord delights to see us settle down in “good enough.” He ever leads us onward, but not with a nose ring. We are unspeakably privileged to obey our own determinations.

First, however, we must make them.

Women praying at the Western Wall, closest physical point to the Holy of Holies

David Shankbone, widipedia

When the young postulant enters Regina Laudis Abbey, she may be anxious about all the rules and regulations, but not as we might expect. She only hopes she will learn to love them, and without delay.

We will remind ourselves continually here in our own monastery that the parameters (the rules) we set for ourselves are our own critical choices, the handrails along the path on which we have set out in pursuit of our Lord. Chances are, we will have to bring that fact to the fore again and again.

Notice how the very use of the word “rules” has been rendered legalistic and thus, evil. There are many words to choose from, but we must discipline our lives in order to enjoy them.

One of the most persistent deceptions coming from the prince of the power of air is that we aren’t really here in the first place, here in this place of worship, in this battle, in training.  We aren’t really fasting today. Maybe we will start tomorrow, even though we started yesterday. We don’t really need to do according to the desires of our hearts, because we don’t really desire them, we only thought we did. We call to mind the mental persuasions of Obi-Wan Kenobi in that first Star Wars movie. “You don’t need to see his identification” (“We don’t need to see his identification.”) “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” (“These aren’t the droids we’re looking for.”) “He can go about his business.” (“You can go on about your business.”) “Move along.” (“Move along … move along.”)

No one has forced us into a more devoted devotional life; in fact, many of our acquaintance might think it’s all a little unnecessary. This is our own choice, and each will fashion her own pursuit, but we will be ready when temptation comes, when sorrow falls, when promotion arrives, when obedience is required. We might agree that the buffeting of our flesh would be superfluous, if only our sinful, selfish, slouchy flesh would take a nap. Our flesh says, “What’s in all this for me?” and it has a point … there’s nothing in it for our lusts and greed.

But here in Cor Unum Abbey, even a sleeping flesh wouldn’t stop us from making this upward climb. First of all, we are actively crucifying our flesh; it’s a sleeping dog (distempered) that we won’t let lie. Its enmity to the Spirit does not get to say, to prevail, or to live. Secondly, and over-archingly, Jesus Christ is worth and more than worth and gloriously worth the pursuit of love. We love Him … and we will have Him … because He first loved us. To have Him is to be conformed into His image, because He said so, and because He says we may. So we will.

Imagine a man of power and princely life offering his heart and hand to a maiden who responded by taking only the castle and the cask of jewels. Or don’t imagine that; it’s unimaginable for us. (“Perhaps it was, yesterday … or maybe you were dreaming. Move along … move along.”)

The great thing about trudging is that one foot keeps falling in front of the other. We don’t stand well on one foot, and the other does swing forward and fall a few inches closer to our destination. We greet our Lord in the morning, before we greet our day, our frustrations, our fears, our fantasies of how things should look. We worship Him, we seek Him in His own Word, we pray according to the issues of His own heart. We face our day for the sake of His kingdom and His will on earth and in us. It works, one footfall at a time.

With our apologies to Obi-Wan, these ARE the droids we’re looking for.

Star Wars Droid Mailbox

Jasenlee, wikipedia

            We might publish a Cor Unum pamphlet describing all the great benefits of a monastic vocation, “without leaving home!” – but you wouldn’t believe us. Scarcely can we believe how far we’ve come on a shoestring, not of money but of time. We must all have had parents who read to us the fable of The Tortoise and the Hare, because we have stayed around long enough to see that “slow and steady” does, indeed, win the race.

Nevertheless, one of us does refer to the trek up this path (with handrails) as “trudging,” and she is spot on, but for those hours when the Lord Himself shows up and keeps us company along the way. Some of us are beginning to see through the mist that He is at hand always, but He is so inexplicably unobtrusive! Still, there is a touching of the hem of His sleeve that makes Him turn and smile and stay near.

Here is our first abbatial practice. That is one of those whimsical terms that are so precise for us. Our hearts are the Lord’s cloister, the Abbey where we dwell with Him, according to His invitation and promises, and in this place we make plans and settle upon choices that will accomplish the settling of our souls into His nearness. As we often say, for those who have found another way, a more expedient way, we wish we knew it, but for us, we have given over waiting for life or death or tragedy or brilliant inspiration to take us where we need to go. Instead, we trudge.

In the morning, when first you open your eyes, give this a try. Begin to say in your heart, and aloud if your circumstances permit, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come!” Yes, say it! Proclaim, “Heaven and earth are filled with Your glory!” Say it on the inside and say it on the outside, if you can. Say it, and keep repeating it as you walk down the hall and start the coffee-maker or put water on for your tea. Say it as you step outside to bring in the newspaper or step into the shower. I won’t suggest you say it as you power up your computer, because we make every attempt in Cor Unum to replace that first love with Another! Summon all the love you have for the Lord, and leave your computer cold and lifeless for those first, precious minutes of the day. Chances are it will spring into action much more readily than do our souls.

Say it, say it, and as best you can, don’t say anything else, even with your mind. All the impulses of the day will begin to howl, but put a nice big log on the fire of your devotion and give glory to God before you allow yourself all the self importance of the day. It will get its own, as we know so well, but first, we will minister to the Lord. Keep the glory of God rolling in your heart until you sit down with your Bible, and we will say for the first and not the last time, your life will begin to change.

You may, of course, choose another phrase (remember, each is the Superior of her own monastery,) but this one is special to us because these are the very words that are being spoken – shouted! – continually at the throne of God (Rev 4:8)   These words usher in the atmosphere of heaven. I’ll tell you a story about them tomorrow. Cor Unum is a most practical cloister, so we will learn to write ourselves a little note in the evening if there is something we must do the next day, an early dental appointment or baked goods promised to a friend. With that, we won’t have to engage our Day-Runner brains; we can bring ourselves first and early to the Throne of Grace, where we belong, bringing our praises with us.

Try it, and let us hear your thoughts. We are a cyber cloister, and we love to hear about the wonders wrought in one another’s lives.

Julius Schorzman, wikipedia

Modest, dutiful servant girl seems perhaps to have caught the eye of the master of the house.   Love and relationship between upstairs and down are as far from the confines of reality as they can be. She must not even indulge the hope that he might someday take a valid interest in her; wishing isn’t forbidden, but it is dangerous and foolish and inadvisable. She thinks perhaps he has noticed her, but she will not risk her life and livelihood to find out. She cannot afford to flirt, and he cannot afford to love.

That’s the televised version.  Here in Cor Unum, we are the chosen handmaidens of One who is absolute Master and Majesty. Neither in literature nor in all history is there any chasm as deep or as wide as that which ought to separate us from His glory. Aristocrat? He is Autocrat of the universe! This is not a breadth between us paved with our sins and misdeeds only. This is Eternal God and creature, but here we must catch our breath … that which separates humans most utterly from the Lord our King is that He will love us, and we will not be loved.

Not so in this Abbey.  The message that rings up and down our halls is this: we love Him, because He first loved us.  (1 John 4:19)

It is no accident that the best love stories reflect a disparity between the lovers. Humans are shaped for a love that we cannot earn or understand or deserve or return. So monastics fit themselves into it, and there we do this one thing: we determine to enjoy it all the days of our lives. To be sure, that enjoyment will culminate in a far greater understanding and return of love than we could at first dream possible, but in this Abbey, we start right way up, and we do what is fitting for those with weak and faltering steps. We make them sure by making them in one direction, toward and in pursuit of our Lord, small steps so that we will not often falter, and above all, as Jude said, we learn to keep ourselves in that love.

You might say that we have determined to have nun other love before Him.

The many small disciplines of monastic life are the handrails of which we have spoken.  They are there because we must stay on the path toward His likeness, and that means there must be a displacement. The things we love better than our Lord will have to be set aside.  From this trail we seek never to turn aside.  We know that we are still fingering the beads of clay we bought at the fair … but His ring is on our finger.

There are so many things along the way that set our flesh on edge, and it howls like wolves hiding just out of sight.  The little obediences of love, the thousand good choices love demands week in and week out, every opportunity seized that denies even our seemingly innocent pleasures for the sake of God With Us.

Were this a path through deep waters, our monastic disciplines would hold the wheel while our old habits and young lusts foment.   We want to be here, we want the life of Christ, but the waves of our own other wants are ever about to turn our ship off the course we ourselves have set. Staying the course will accomplish what all manner of wishing will not. We are beyond wishing here, for the Master does love us; He has brought us into His chamber, and His banner over us is love.

The problem is ever the abiding (John 15:9), and thus those handrails, but under that banner we will be found, delighting in His company, and we will learn to return love, even this love, for He has purposed that we may, if we will.

            Alone is a frightening place to be, and it’s for cowards.

Having spent more than twenty years as a military wife, I spent a lot of time left alone for a season. This solitude is something else.

Our first year of marriage was spent in Korea, and the only complete phrase I could utter was “Kagee-wah oogie-mo ship-shee-o” … please don’t bring me anymore! The waitresses in the club where we dined were very gracious to the American wife who had come to live in their country with her husband! Frank worked nights quite a lot, and perhaps I’ll tell you sometime about the night I woke up to find a man with a machete in my bedroom! But Frank came home that night; he knew I would be there (and fortunately, I was, still,) and I knew he would come.

A few years later, we were stationed in Germany and in order to get us there more quickly, my husband rented a house on the side of a mountain, not as close to his installation as he might have wanted to be (not close at all!), but at least we could be together – when he wasn’t on maneuvers, which was not very often. Alone on the top floor of a beautiful house with panoramic views in every direction, I was enchanted with our new home, but I could not even say, “It’s nice to see you” to the people downstairs. Horrid! Frank had stocked the kitchen, bathroom, and nursery, but if I had needed anything I could not have driven to Post to get it, even if I’d had a license … I didn’t know the way!

For those of us who find ourselves alone, alone with no one coming home, with half of our heart and life gone and forever, there is a vehicle and there is a way to get where we need to be, to find wholeness and more – to find Romance, Capital R.

First, let’s run a reality check: in every marriage, even the sweetest of all, someone has to die first. We hardly think of that, standing at the altar, and we shy away from that certainty while we live, but it is a fact. In my case, I’m glad my husband wasn’t left without me, but it’s not the same planet without him.

There is a divine romance for women alone. The Scripture speaks of it, and many have found it. We in Cor Unum are those who refuse to refuse the Nearness of the Lord, clinging to what we had or growing bitter over what has been taken from us. We don’t have what we wanted, but we have the Lord, the inventor of love and romance, greatly desiring to live these years with us, and to make them years of fullness and fruitfulness. Nothing was taken more than is now given in Christ Jesus.

We in this Abbey trust the goodness, and we choose the Presence of God. For every opportunity we would have had to minister to our husbands, whether gone through death or divorce, Christ Jesus, Savior and King, will get every ounce of that ministry, which is to say our attention, our esteem, and the warmth of our souls learning to make what matters to Him matter supremely to us. That is love, and we will have it, here in Cor Unum Abbey, monastery of the heart.

Romeo and Juliet, Frank Dicksee

public domain

            It is a very good thing, as we said yesterday, that we aren’t in a hurry here in Cor Unum. I must say, that is one of the best parts, to me. I like to get where I am going, and sometimes I like to hurry, but it is always nice to know that if we dawdle, if we make unscheduled stops, we will still arrive.

More to the point, here in this Abbey, what we do ever so slowly is more than we could accomplish with tremendous flux and flurry. We’ve been those nine ladies dancing, whirling, trying to catch every star, but now we rejoice for the One who dances over us (Zephaniah 3:17.) That, my dear friends, is real progress, and it came about more through the minutes that we seized than the hours we could never discover.

We are trying to find and to claim more minutes … may God grant you lots of them over these next days of the first weekend of the New Year.

Here is this year’s fist abbatial assignment, for those who wish to give it a try. Some time before Monday, take a sheet of paper and find twenty minutes or so alone, and draw a tree with three big branches at the top. (How I would love to see your trees, some of them stick figures and some looking like photo reproductions, I’m sure. Mine falls into the first category.)

Now, take time to pray and ask the Lord to give you three areas of focus for the first quarter of the year. That will take us through the Lenten season. These may be areas in your life that need spiritual tweaking, in keeping with those forty days when they roll around, but let Him decide.

Now, pencil in a weekly appointment with God, perhaps every Saturday morning or Sunday afternoon, and check in to see how you’re doing in those three all-important areas. (All important, because the Lord highlighted them.) Are you keeping your heart peaceful? Are you remembering a neighbor who lost his job? Am I becoming a better listener?

Even if we dawdle a bit over the next three months, we will surely be surprised at how much more skillful our dance has become, because now we are at the barre.

Edgar Degas, public domain

Ballet Class

As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.

(Psalm 17:15, ESV)

            The last day of the year … welcome to it!

The Seventh Day of Christmas … The next day of the rest of our lives!

This blog began on New Year’s Eve, 2009. We’re still here, and we are more bound at the heart of things than ever before.

In the Book, My Beloved, by Mother Catherine Thomas, she begins her account, the story of her vocational life, on New Year’s Day. It was quite early in the morning, and she was headed for five o’clock Mass, just as a New Year’s Eve party was breaking up in her apartment building. One of the stragglers, a young man, asked if he could accompany her, and as they talked, she found that he was a Catholic. She chided him a bit for the lifestyle he seemed to be indulging, and he went with her to Church, but that friendship could only expand at arm’s length, for she was within days of entering a Carmelite monastery in New York City.

Mother Catherine’s story intrigued me, and from it the idea that there is nothing to stop us, you and me, from entering our own monastic vocation. We won’t be able to have what she had, not the hours in prayer and worship nor the solitude nor the abiding company of like-minded nuns, but I saw that we could have far, far more than we would ever know if we didn’t give it a try. I was at first a bit like the ugly duckling, envying the beauty of the monastic life, and knowing that my own was sketchy, unfocused, and sometimes not even afloat.

That was five years ago, and as most of you know, I now have the choice to make my home a cloister and to devote my life to the Lord and to a Rule in measure more full than I could have dreamed possible when all this began. When it began, I had a husband, a child at home, nearly grown, two daughters out on their own, another son and his wife and two grandchildren. I was busy with innumerable obligations and kept house as ably as my skills and strength would allow. It was a normal life for a woman my age.

Today is the Seventh of the Twelve Days of Christmas, and it represents the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit. I have listed them below. It is a wonderful list, and Thomas Aquinas went so far as to relate all seven to the Seven Capital Virtues, also listed. These gifts and virtues would make a wonderful review for us here at the end of the calendar year, but I would like to go in a different direction.

As I contemplated these gifts and virtues, it was lovely to see how our Divine Office has supported and promoted each of them in our lives. Our Lectio Divina, of course, the prayerful study of the Word of God, exhorts and edifies us in every dimension. Our Conversatio, the ongoing method by which we make sure small changes, adds up to big conversion of heart for us; our daily Adoration, has no other plan or purpose but to delight in the Lord and in the holy fear of Him, and that is as virtuous a practice as any could ever be.

Our Intercession requires understanding and results in tremendous, unfailing hope and worthy counsel; our Spiritual Rx is fortifying in the extreme. Our practice of daily, extended Thanksgiving strengthens us and our faith, and our determination to spend time Waiting on the Lord gives us wisdom and knowledge beyond all human capability.

Look! There are Seven of those offices, and all of them work together that none of the gifts or the virtues of Christ will escape us.

In most religious houses, there are Seven daily offices as well: Matins, Lauds, Prime, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline. We are headed in that direction; as for me, I don’t keep all seven offices perfectly yet. (It is crucial to remember that an Office does not have to comprise thirty or forty minutes or more of time: it can be as short as the time it takes to pray for three minutes for a spouse or for children, with thanksgiving. This makes a wonderful practice for “Prime,” the launch of the daily schedule of work, after breakfast.)

So far, as we’ve been honest with ourselves, time has not been the biggest difficulty. Our flesh is the culprit (of course,) aided and abetted by our poor or selfish choices.

No matter. That’s what we are here for, year in and year out. Before long, those seven swans will be swimming over a sea of glass, making use of the time and the calling with which we have been called, with priorities in place, obedient to our own decisions in favor of worship, prayer, and watchfulness. We will begin this New Year with a new look at our Offices, taking care to see that there is fullness and dimension and purpose for each of us, giving a few suggestions as to how to make sure we don’t overlook anything important.

One day we will see our reflection in the nature of Christ Jesus, and we will be so glad that we kept swimming!

Here is a list of the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and the Seven Virtues on the right:

Wisdom                                                                        Charity

Understanding                                                              Faith

Counsel                                                                        Prudence

Fortitude                                                                        Courage

Knowledge                                                                    (Temperance)

The Fear of the Lord                                                      Hope

Reverence                                                                     Justice

Vilhelm Pederson, public domain

(illustrator dead for more than 70 years)

There are two versions of the significance of the “FIVE” in the Twelve Day Progression.

One represents the five books of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Old Testament, and likely this is accurate, given the antiquity of the song. The other is that the rings stand for the five ministry gifts mentioned in Ephesians 4:11 … apostles, prophets, evangelists, preachers, and teachers.

Either way, either five, clearly the Lord God meant that we, His sheep, should be tended, both by the Word and the ministers of it.

We mentioned yesterday the reading of the Gospels in the New Year. We will look again into the wonders of deep and penetrating study in Lectio Divina, but let us be reminded that anyone can do it!

One of us commented that a new method of Lectio has come to light. Here it is:

• Choose one book of the Bible
• Read it all the way through
• Repeat twenty times
• Repeat for every book of the Bible

If that isn’t a monastic venture, I don’t know what is!   What makes it so is that it …. CLOSES US IN WITH GOD, ALONE WITH HIM, SPIRIT AND WORD.

One of my very favorite stories, a true story, was told to me of an evangelist who ministered around the world and often carried Bibles in his suitcase, even into countries where they were illegal.

In one island nation he met a pastor and gave him a Bible, the first the man had ever owned in its entirety. They talked and shared, the evangelist gave what help and comfort he could, and after a few days traveled on.

One year later he revisited the young pastor, and as they sat talking, the evangelist noticed a series of tic marks on the front flyleaf of the minister’s Bible.

“What are those marks you’ve made in your Bible, sir?” he asked. “Are those the number of books you have read so far?”

“Oh, no!” answered the younger man. “Those are my readings through this beloved book, so far this year.”

There were fourteen check marks on the page.

May I say: my mind balked at the idea of reading twenty times through Genesis or Deuteronomy or Jeremiah. I can, however, in the interest of full disclosure, read the entire Austen or Karon or Sayers series in a matter of weeks or months, so I can make a start, even if it’s only five times through. I won’t end my “five times through the Gospels” even when our five times through comes to an end, but I think I’ll make a beginning with this plan, in addition. It’s do-able.

I think I’ll start with the Book of Jude!

Marriage of funerary crown of gold, 4th century

Matthias Kabel, by permission, Wikipedia