Happy Trinity Sunday!

Happy Holy Trinity Sunday! The great mysteries of our faith continue to astound me. I blundered into a confirmation mass last Sunday and it was one of great peace and beauty. It is easy to forget that the Holy Spirit is always moving, even if you can't see the fire quite as clearly as Peter- you can still feel it. I haven't had as much of a chance to blog as I would like in these couple of months and I have felt the loss of it. I have been trying to make some important decisions and listen very carefully to the Lord as I decide whether to take a year to teach in a community in need next year (September 2011) I have been teaching now for 5 years and I do love my job but I also want to give some more time to God and give a short time in service. I think this is probably the least that I can do for Him and I am well aware I will probably receive far more than I could ever give.

I have felt the need to be very still and reflect a little over the last few months. I feel providence is working through those I have met and although the press has been giving the Church a ritual battering for all sorts of things, it is important to remember that for all the ill there really are just some amazing people in our Church. I'm not talking about the lauded heroes or great saints - (though obviously we are proud and deeply in need of the communion of saints and our great martyrs) I'm just talking about the people we meet on the ground level who love God and see him in others. There is so much to be joyful about. Speaking of joys I haven't made to Lourdes this year, I will wait to see if the good Lady gives me the chance to go back. If not then I shall think back joyfully over the blessings I have had while there and be so very thankful for them.

On Trinity Sunday one realises that in every aspect of our God there is hope and a different way of communicating with us, his people. I am hopeful that we can listen.

Even when I go a little quiet always be assured of my prayers for all your intentions, especially today when we celebrate the greatness of our God and His sensitivity to all aspects of our being as well as all aspects of his.

Peace be with you!

Hanging out with Carthusians (in spirit)

With a lack of Internet access in my life over the last month or so I have been spending my time doing lots of extra reading - you don't need technology to procrastinate and I'll always find a way. So what have I been reading dear readers, who have been kind enough to return after I have neglected you for so long? Well, among other things the writing of various, unnamed, Carthusians. This has largely happened by accident. It's strange when things seem to converge and by coincidence several people give you things to read which are connected and that is what happened to me at the end of the summer. I was given a book of Carhtusian writings and then a friend sent me a few extracts from the book he had been reading and before I knew it I was hooked. John Paul II said there is no such thing as a coincidence and I think I quite agree.

 Despite their enclosed nature it quickly became clear to me that these guys have a better handle on human nature and the modern world than those of us trapped in the grind. Advent, though it is almost at a close, has been the perfect ground for nurturing this reading for it has been born in the stillness and the silence of waiting and for this reason it is profound in its simple truths. I just wanted to share a little of my most recent reading with you, from a chapter entitled 'Christmas':

"For the world has need of love, for love alone gives joy. And grace is of itself fruitful; it cannot burn within us without lighting up other souls.

May the Blessed Virgin, hidden and silent in the cave of Bethlehem, help us to imitate her in her recollectedness and purity"*

I hope you all have a blessed and peaceful close to Advent.

*PAGE 89 The Prayer of Love and Silence, Gracewing, 2006 (originally published in 1962 by Darton, Longman and Todd Ltd.)

COPYRIGHT - The Carthusian order in England

Advent! It's good to be back!

I am glad to have had some temporary internet access this weekend to update my own blog and catch up with some of my favourites. I wish you all a deeply peaceful season of advent. If you are reading this near the 8th of December check out my little post

Also, a little advent poem here

The Joy of the Sacred

Yesterday I went to the National Gallery to see the 'Sacred made real' exhibition. Like the average person on the street I can enjoy looking at interesting pictures and sculptures - I deeply appreciate it as a gift from God- but I cannot claim to understand it with the great depth and knowledge that others do. I know nothing of the name of techniques and brush strokes - as much as I admire the effects. The one sculpture in my life that sent shivers down my spine was the pieta in St. Peters. We always had a model of it at home but when I stood before it I was amazed by it, what it could tell me and how it could inspire me.

I saw 'The Sacred Made Real' exhibition advertised on a poster on the tube and thought it would be worth a bash. I had no concept that it would actually be a spiritual experience. These sculptures were carved from wood and a method called polychroming was used in order to make them appear life like. The statues were exhibited with paintings of a similar time that borrowed ideas from sculpting to create a sense of the 3D. These sculptures are without doubt the most beautiful and awe inspiring I have seen and they indeed seemed to me to be very sacred. Most of the have never left Spain and are still in the convents, monasteries and churches which the were commissioned for- they have been loaned under very particular circumstances. One picture at the end of the exhibition was taken from the room where monks of the Mercedarian order were laid out, awaiting burial. How could one fail to be moved by the peace and symbolism of this? The fact that seeing some of these works together again would be highly unlikely after the end of this exhibition added to the sense of privilege and intimacy one felt standing before them. They have been, and still are, treated as objects that are sacred because they aid prayer and transport us into meditation. I was surprised by how this was the case even in an art gallery and London. The Mater Dolorosa exhibited in Room 5, the room called Meditations on Death is felt to be so sacred that it was only loaned to the gallery on the condition that it was no to be photographed. One can understand when you look upon the true expression of sorrow etched on the face. No one could capture it on camera, but by some amazing grace this artist was able to capture it in wood.

The art form itself is little known outside of Spain because it was thought by many protestant groups to feed idolatry they believed those "crazy catholics" practiced but suddenly the walls have fallen and the National seems to have taken a gamble in recognising a thirst for the sacred here. Certainly, I never thought I would see the day when Rosaries would be sold in the secular shops of the National Gallery but God is great and indeed nothing is impossible for Him - I think we are starting to see the proof of that here in England. In the most unlikely of times there is work afoot. A journalist from the Times newspaper said this week:

"With the arrival of The Sacred Made Real at the National Gallery, however, I think we can safely conclude that the Reformation in Britain is finally over, and that admirers of the remarkable popish art gathered before us here will not now be dispatched to the Tower. Henry VIII’s revolt has run its course at last." (source here)

To be fair it has been nearly five hundred years- its about time we got a break. I certainly am not carried away with the idea that all our troubles are over- far from it- you only have to read the full 'Times' article to get an idea of the underlying resentment people still feel for our Church. However, at least there is hope and more than that - perhaps even opportunity for people to encounter something of the divine.

The exhibition encouraged more than a passive observation - it was about meditation with music specially composed to accompany the pieces. One was asked to reflect in quite a deep way on what they were looking at - with commentary by a Jesuit priest. This was more than just showing art that has not been see before. This was about the sacred and I was surprised by that. In a world where we throw words around, often without a full regard for their meaning I had expected something beautiful, unusual, ethereal even, but probably not sacred. To use a somewhat colloquial phrase I was blown away, my soul responded.

There were five rooms in total and each of them held a separate aspect of meditation. One room called Saint Francis in Meditation was dedicated to depictions of Saint Francis in ecstasy and one could see something in that art of revelation. No artist could have created that expression on the face of Francis without some interior life. They rendered something beyond my own vocabulary. They rendered something we can all understand - the effect of God on a man who is completely focused on God. (There was also a rendering of St Bruno meditating on the crucifix that made me think the same)

I could probably go on all day about the aspects of Christ shown through this exhibition with one room dedicated to Meditations on the Passion and another, as already mentioned to Meditations on death. My words can never do it justice. Many of these artists were quote aesthetic in their own way and before beginning their work would fast, receive communion and pray. The effects are very clear.

I wanted to just share with you some of my delight and joy at having the privilege to encounter this exhibition. It is a very personal reflection but if you want to find out more the website is here

When the praying gets tough

During the second world war there was a relatively unknown diarist called Etty Hillesum who had a unique and beautiful style of writing. She spent a great deal of time in the Dutch transit camp of Westerbork where she suffered with her fellow Jews and had to watch train after train full of human beings , including babies, women, the elderly, sick and infirm, get sent to Auschwitz and an "unknown destiny". Etty was also a deeply spiritual person and this love of religion colours her writing and elevates her soul in order that she can cope with what she sees. I found a tragic yet beautiful passage as I was reading her letters the other day and I found the part where she talks about the entrance of some Catholic-Jewish religious in Westerbork. She tells how "There was a remarkable day when the Jewish-Catholics or Catholic-Jews arrived, nuns and priests wearing the yellow stars on their habit."* She describes how one priest had not been out of the monastery for fifteen years "yet his gaze remained unwavering and friendly above the brown habit, as if everything was known, familiar, from long ago"*

Etty had no reason to write this way, most of the people she was writing to had no interest in the Catholic clergy. There is no bias in what she writes yet she is able to convey a beautiful serenity. I think we know it, I think she recognised it as the serenity of grace. Grace in a place where, as you can read in the rest of Etty's letters human suffering is abundant and devastating. Yet together human beings went on , whether Catholic or not just hoping and trying to bear what was happening. She continues that a man tells her:

"he saw some priests walking one behind the other in the dusk between two barracks. They were saying their rosaries as imperturbably as if they had just finished vespers at the monastery"*

I love this idea because it is proof that faith does not die when the sense of humanity in those around you does. People may be persecuting you, may be harming and destroying life all around you but you do not give up. You hold on and Etty asks in her beautiful mystical way :

"And isn't it true one can pray anywhere?"*

This I will try to remember next time I feel that internal call to prayer but tell myself I will pray later when I am less stressed, distracted or busy. Surely these people must be our models for prayer.

Etty died in Auschwitz on November 30th 1943 aged 27. She was proudly Jewish and in the course of the last years of her short life had become a proud lover of God. She took her Talmud and Bible to Auschwitz with her.

*All quotations were taken from Letters from Westerbork, Etty Hillesum, Grafton Books, Uk 1987

Journeys and promises

One of the luxuries of summer holidays is being able to stay up late into the night reading and praying. Late night and early morning are, in my opinion, the best times for these activities because there is a stillness in them that seems to speak of expectancy. During the school week I normally flag out by about 10 (which at 25 is rather a sorry thing to admit to the world at large but a day with kids ranging from 11-18 will do that to you). During the school term I get to enjoy the early mornings because I have quite a commute. During the holidays I switch and the night becomes my time of stillness. 

At the moment I am preparing for my various summer journeys, of which there are a few. I always find the process of travelling quite a spiritual experience, perhaps a reminder of our pilgrim way through life.  I feel that every journey has a spiritual element to it and there is an element of growth and renewal in leaving behind what you know and going towards the unfamiliar, even just for a few days. There is so much of this beautiful world to experience but, thanks to mankind, not all of it always seems particularly beautiful.  Nevertheless, where there is life there is surely goodness and hope to be found. I am not, of course, speaking of external beauty - but true beauty- the beauty of the soul, which often has an external appearance which suggests the opposite to superficial beauty.

My first journey this summer is to a friend's wedding- one ceremony  is in the north of England and the other in Holland because her future husband is Dutch (I am leaving for Holland next Friday while the English festivities are early next week).  It seems strange to be seeing another dear friend embark upon the vocation of marriage. The more of these ceremonies I go to (and they are rather frequent these days) the more moved I become by the incredible beauty of an institution of such trust in another person, such willingness to accept another with all their faults and failings.  In an increasingly cynical world it also seems very brave to do so, when the statistics and culture seem to be persuading against. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to see friends who I have grown up with happy in their lives.  Although this is a friend from university, I still feel that, to some extent, we were children when we met. Of course marriages also contain a certain aspect of sadness because they are farewell to an aspect of that particular friends life - however, this sadness is far outweighed by the joy and promise of the life to come. 

I am praying that the journeys I make this summer, that the journeys all make this summer, will be fruitful - that they will teach me, help me to grow and help me on my own pilgrimage - the pilgrimage of life. 

I am reading a book about Dominican spirituality at the moment - just because I like to find out about different orders and understand them better. Tonight I read this quotation from Meister Eckhart 

'God is always ready, but we are unready. God is near us, but we are from from him'

I pray that the journeys of life may make us ready (whether these journeys be literal or metaphorical)

I pray that that the journeys of life may allow us to draw near to Him.

Wherever I travel you are all truly in my prayers.

CRUTCHES

When I was still studying for my degree a friend of mine asked me whether or not I could accept the view (courtesy of Freud) that religion is simply a crutch we create to lean on because we can't cope on our own. I hadn't considered this for a long time until somebody asked me exactly the same question the other day. I had a prepared response. Actually I had several and since I quite enjoyed answering it - I thought I would repeat the fun here.

1) Define RELIGION

My wonderful University chaplain once read out a quotation from a famous Lutheran who stated that we must be careful to ensure that we do not confuse religion and faith. Religion can be manipulated and misused - nobody is more aware of this than our beloved Church who has found herself rather battered by the will of man over the years. FAITH cannot be manipulated. Even when we screw up - it remains essentially pure.


Thus crutches are something we use when we need to be supported and YES religion has been abused in this way. People have taken it up for a while when they felt battered, bruised and even bored- then they have discarded it. However, Faith is something you work at all your life- it is a relationship and thus even if you tell yourself you have discarded it for moments, weeks or even years you always return to it. Why? because it is not a concept or an idea- it is a real entity. Therefore it is not for leaning on it is for interacting with - therein lies an essential difference.

2) The relationship

Faith is not a one way thing, you don't just lean on it in order to hop through life. It is a challenge to build a relationship with the invisible - to catch those moments that reveal something deeper than the superficial.

It is about maintaining that relationship when everything around you is telling you that it doesn't exist. It is about rising above your doubts and your darkness and far from being a crutch it is often painful, challenging and exhausting to keep that relationship alive. To live true Christian values is no easy thing; to stare yourself in the face and admit often you fail is far from a crutch- it is often enough to make you think you might just fall flat on your face. Yet in the end those struggles are rewarded with so much love.

3) Doing the easy thing

Is life easier when you have faith? I don't think so. Right from the beginning of the Church people have been faced with extremely difficult decisions - your life or your faith?

John Paul believed that the twentieth century had begun a new era of martyrdom because it had instigated a new era of persecution in the Church. Was Fr Kolbe leaning on a crutch when he gave his life for another man? Was John Paul II leaning on a crutch when he risked his life standing out against two great oppressive regimes - Nazism and communism? Are we leaning on a crutch when we confront the great tragedy of abortion and find ourselves going against public opinion and 'women's rights' (?). I don't think so.

It is easy to believe that having faith is easy, that we get to stick our heads in the sand and forget about the rest. Whoever judges that to be faith is sadly misguided.

Faith is many things - beautiful , enriching, extraordinary - it isn't easy it sometimes makes life harder if anything.

4)Religion itself and thus the faith rooted in that religion cannot be generalised or jumbled. Different religions all follow a particular ethical code and as we all know these can be diverse. We can't even begin to consider it as one giant concept. It quite simply makes no sense to do so.

5) If at the end of my life none of it proved to be true (which obviously I don't believe to be the case) than I wouldn't have changed it for anything anyway. Why? Because it has given me more that anything else in my life- but not in the way Mr Freud thinks.

I love my religion and having spent a few months on crutches myself a few years ago - I can tell you truly- there is certainly no allegory or metaphor that could be less fitting for something so expansive, breathtaking and beautiful than the faith that grows from, and has deep roots in, is kept alive and fed by TRUE religion.

Rather than limiting us and holding us back- preventing us from standing on our own two feet Jesus tells us to get up and walk beause if we believe we let go, relinquish control, and love - no support necessary.

We have the questions
God has the answers

A witness to Faith & prayers needed!

I wanted to just write a little reflection on the writings of another blogger who never ceases to inspire me. I am sure nearly everyone who has read this blog has already been following The Story of Faith Hope which is written by Faith's Mum (or Mom) Myah. For anyone who does not know the story of Faith she is a beautiful little girl born three months ago full of smiles and gurgles. Faith has a condition called anencephaly which means that she has no brain.

Myah was advised not to carry Faith to term because there would be no purpose in doing so. This is where the miracle begins. Myah chose her own path - you can read her own inspiring words on her blog but I just want to say that I think that she is a woman of tremendous strength. Did I mention Myah is only 23?

Well, not only did Myah recognise that her baby deserved to be born she began to write about her journey and witness to her decision. The result? An incredible witness to the sanctity of human life but also to the beauty of human love.

The hospital sent Faith and her Mum home with a memory box and information on bereavement- even though Faith was alive. The more I read about Faith, like thousands of others, the more I see God's finger prints all over her- and by association the rest of us. Faith can be seen on Myah's blog cuddling her Mum, gurgling away and smiling.

Faith is living proof that the brain doesn't mean much if you have a soul. She is a witness to the amazing power of individuality and love which God gives to us all. I just wanted to personally thank Myah for her strength and the gift of sharing Faith Hope with us.

The reason I wanted to write this post is to show support forMyah who has received hate mail and even had websites set up about herself and her daughter. I won't spend much time considering the individuals that level abuse at people who choose to give birth to their children and love them unconditionally. I think they must be rather sad and rather bored. Instead I just wanted to make the point that far from being a witness to that hate, Faith is a witness, as her name suggests, to the hope and love which we can hope will save us from such futile evils.

What more cause for celebration and hope could you ask for than seeing this child?

Thanks Myah and Faith Hope!
A LINK TO MYAH'S BLOG http://babyfaithhope.blogspot.com/

CLOTHED WITH THE SUN

Revelation 12:1,5 (RSV) And a great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.

I took this photo of the domain statue in Lourdes (the bottom one is the original). I found whether I darkened (top) or lightened (middle) the colouring it was quite incredible. I just wanted to share it. Back to the marking! :-)

A word in the silence

I felt tonight that I wanted to stay with Jesus in the garden - I did not want to leave Him in that terrible loneliness. How alone He must have felt as those closest to him slept peacefully nearby while He confronted all the sins of humanity. Yet I know when it came to it, whatever I feel, He was alone and there is nothing I can do to change it- this was part of the price he had to pay- isolation from comfort. I couldn't help thinking back to Auschwitz and the crushing weight of woe and desolation that I felt there. If that was just the tiniest fraction of what He suffered that night  then it is no wonder He sweated blood.

As I knelt before the blessed sacrament after mass I considered what a dark place the world would be without it. It would be unbearable.  What light that terrible suffering has brought - it has transformed the world. Just think about tonight - it is twenty to one in the morning  here, we stayed with the blessed sacrament till twelve but as we sleep tonight that beauty and light will be celebrated in churches in the USA and has already been celebrated much earlier than us in Australia. All those prayers ascending and unceasing - perhaps we could not offer our comfort to him in the garden but on the other hand the prayers that were to come may have strengthened Him and helped Him bear the pain.

I thought of the unborn tonight and their suffering, I prayed that the efforts in America to prevent doctors from opting out of abortive procedures will fail- just another evil Jesus must have encountered. The loss of so many lives - perhaps these little souls were his company that night. 

Either way I go to bed now with hope in my heart and prayer on my lips as many of you go off to your own masses and adoration. Peace be with you! May we wait and watch with Him.

17th Apparition - 'the miracle of the candle'

The 17th apparition is often described as 'the miracle of the candle' which is best recounted by Dr.  Dozous, the town physician who had known Bernadette for most of her life. He was initially unsure about events surrounding the apparitions but as time went by he observed Bernadette's ecstasies,  as well as the inexplicable healing of many of his own patients. This skeptic, rationalist was increasingly convinced that the little asthmatic Soubirous girl was experiencing something beyond the realms of rationalist understanding and science. Dozous wrote of April 7th 1858:

"Bernadette seemed to be even more absorbed than usual in the Appearance upon which her gaze was riveted. I witnessed, as did also every one else there present, the fact which I am about to narrate. (...) The child was just beginning to make the usual ascent on her knees when suddenly she stopped and, her right hand joining her left, the flame of the big candle passed between the fingers of the latter. Though fanned by a fairly strong breeze, the flame produced no effect upon the skin which it was touching. (...) I then asked the person who was holding the candle to light it again and give it to me. I put it several times in succession under Bernadette's left hand but she drew it away quickly, saying 'You are burning me!'. I record this fact just as I have seen it without attempting to explain it. Many persons who were present at the time can confirm what I have said."

TAKING YOUR PETITIONS TO LOURDES - a simple offer

LITTLE LIGHTS - dedicated to you!

As long as there is faith there is always hope. At Lourdes the torchlight procession symbolises this; the light in the darkness. But it is not one light- it is countless little lights all glowing and moving in unison that set the place aflame. Alone they would not make much of an impact but  when they come together they light up the night.

Those lights symbolise all of you. 

This is the core of hope

And this should lift all our hearts wherever we are in the world because our faith and our prayer unites us and brings us together in light- around the source of all things. I follow many wonderful blogs and this is how I see them and their readers- as those little lights gathered around a great and inextinguishable light; the light of the world.

Please continue to pray the NOVENA of LIFE or whatever prayer you feel most potent that FOCA will not be passed in as little as a matter of days (see earlier post WITH A LITTLE BIT OF GRACE - FOCA for more information and pro-life poem) Thanks to all those who have read this earlier post and commented -I have replied to all of you. May we continue to unite in prayer for the chorus of tiny beating hearts which are being threatened in the one place they should be assured of safety.