Wednesday, July 3, 2019

Finishing the Program and Continuing On Day by Day by Day by Day

"Oh! Turkeys!" Bruce, one of our facilitators suddenly exclaimed in the beginning of his presentation on our final weekend of the Contemplative Formation program  at Mariandale. We were on the ground floor, and the windows looked out on an area where the ground was actually higher than our floor, so we had a clear view of the three turkeys that appeared just outside the window. "Oh my!" he exclaimed, as two of the turkeys suddenly felt in the mood for propagation. It was a comedic highlight of the last three days we would all spend together.

I have been putting off this final blog about the Contemplative Formation program, because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. I have just had lunch with my friend Mary Ann, and I think she helped me with a few perceptive questions.

When I said that the program had been life-changing, she asked me in what way, as she felt I had been very contemplative for years. I think that I've been unaware of this, actually. I admit that I've had other people (including my spiritual director) tell me this as well, since I started the program. But the label was not one I would have given myself. So what I gained in particular from this program was a realization that being contemplative on a daily basis for the rest of my life is what I really want. By using the label "contemplative" it gives a real sense of direction to my journey.

Previously, I was reading a lot of religious texts, trying various practices, praying for others, going to church, etc., but merely because I felt drawn to it, but not because I knew what I was doing. I was taking a scattershot approach to becoming more spiritual: reading this book or that, trying one type of prayer or another, but not really having a method to my madness. It was only when I heard our facilitator of the small group say to us about three months into the program that "You have been called to this since birth ..." at that moment, I really felt "yes, this is what I want and this is what God wants for me." The search for a roadmap is over, but I still have a long journey ahead of me.

My life has changed, because each day I try to be awake to God's blessings and presence in the people around me. I think of my personal heroes, missioners who gave me full attention when we were together, and I strive to do that with the people I encounter. It's not always easy. After church recently, a man who occasionally comes to my church sat across from me at the coffee hour and began to speak to me. He engaged in a long rambling story, and I soon realized he had some serious psychological issues, but the only gift I could give him was to listen. He occasionally asked me questions, but since I couldn't follow his train of thought, all I could do was nod. When he finally finished his discourse, the only thing I could think of to say was, "I am glad we [the church] were able to provide you with a short time of peace in this tempestuous world." He thanked me, and we parted with good feelings.

I used a quote from Pope Francis in one of our acknowledgment letters recently, and it seems appropriate here: "Whatever we have can bear fruit if we give it away - that is what Jesus wants to tell us - and it does not matter whether it is great or small. The Lord does great things with our littleness." I felt pretty little in my time with the gentleman at my church; I just pray for great things to result. I hope he will return, we are all broken and we all need places where we fill welcome.

I was pleased with the final bit of our last weekend; we had an actual graduation ceremony, which I didn't expect. It reminded me of MKLM's Covenant Signing ceremony for new missioners. The missioners are called forward one by one, sign the Lay Missioner Covenant in front of the staff, and then receive a hug from the Director and their witnesses. Then all missioners, current and former, recite the Covenant together. For our graduation, we were called forward to receive a prayer shawl and a congratulatory hug from the facilitators, then we signed a book containing the names of all who have completed the program, and the facilitators read us a pledge to be Contemplatives.

After ten months containing many hours of discussion and sharing, doing practices each day, it felt a fitting end as we all committed to remaining pilgrims on the journey toward God and helping others find their way. I have a confidence now that I didn't have before. An ability to face death with peace in my heart, and an understanding that there will be ups and downs along the way, but the journey will be ever forward. I can't wait to find out what's around the next corner. Pray for me, and I'll pray for you.


 

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

If You Want to Be Happy, Practice Compassion

The theme of our retreat this month was "Compassion, Healing and Gratitude." You would think that I would be in for a pleasanter experience than the previous weekend retreat, whose theme was "Suffering," but I seem to always find a way to surprise myself.

Let me begin by stepping back a few weeks. We had our last small-group Contemplative meeting in April, and we have drawn ever closer as a group over the previous months, so I decided to bake a cherry pie to share and celebrate, using the pie carrier I had been given by group member Carol.
Fortunately, it came out well, and everyone seemed to enjoy it (plus I managed to bring a couple of pieces home for Mary). The group has provided such a warm, accepting presence as we shared our good times and bad along this contemplative journey, I shall miss them, but perhaps we can continue somehow afterwards. The weekend began this month with Carol, a small-group member, taking me aside to thank me for the pie and inviting me to eat dinner with her at one of the tables outside, which was a real treat that we repeated (even when our meals were in silence) over the weekend, since we had beautiful weather. We were joined by another member of our group, Pat, as well.

The weekend had begun on a warm note, and continued that way as our first lecture dealt with compassion's role in the contemplative life. I found this quote from Rachel Naomi Remen particularly resonant: "Helping, fixing, and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul." I see the contemplative life as being one of observing and praying primarily, preparing yourself to be available when you are called to serve.
We were joined at Mariandale this weekend by a group of Zen Buddhist archers. There was about a dozen of them, and they were men and women from a wide range of ages. They used what appeared to be traditional Japanese bows (long bows taller than the archer). They began by holding the bow above their heads, slowly pulling it down to eye level, releasing the arrow, and standing still for a few moments after the shot. Although they had targets set up, hitting the targets didn't seem to be the point.
Most shots fell short or passed over the targets. One of our facilitators asked one how they knew if they had made a "good shot;" she replied that it was more spiritual rather than measuring success by the physical result. It appears that all cultures/religions have their contemplatives.

Another highlight of the weekend was walking the labyrinth. There is a Chartres-type labyrinth on the grounds at Mariandale. During previous weekend retreats, I have made a point of walking the labyrinth on my own during free periods. As I walk, moving close to and then away from the center until I finally arrive and then head outward, my main focus has been the distance between me and the center, repeating the Jesus prayer ("Holy Jesus, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.") throughout the trip inward and outward. This weekend, we walked the labyrinth as a group leaving space inbetween. My concentration focused on my fellow pilgrims, not the labyrinth itself. I never knew who I would next pass close to, and I wondered if we could safely pass those going the opposite direction when we returned from the center, as the pathway was quite narrow. Of course, I quickly learned that all one has to do is step outside the pathway to let the other pass. I also discovered that the contemplative aspect of walking the labyrinth began as soon as we left the meeting place with the intention in mind. This state of mind continued until we had made our way back to the room to discuss what we had felt. The group experience was very different from the solitary one, as my perspective went from looking inward to concentration on my fellow travelers and their journey.

 The most difficult part of the weekend for me was "Gazing at Icons." We were asked to gaze at the icon of Jesus pictured above. The facilitator spoke for the first few minutes about Jesus' eyes and how we should imagine Jesus peering inside of us. We should welcome him in to every part of our being. This was followed by an extensive period (perhaps 15 minutes) of silence. My reaction was not what I would have predicted. I felt very uncomfortable as I imagined Jesus penetrating into my darkest places of guilt and shame. I did not want to share those places with Jesus. This is not a problem I've experienced before. I am well aware that we are all broken, with dark, secret places inside, but during this exercise, I felt a very primitive, emotional response. The period of silence crept by, my only desire being for it to end. When it finally came to an end, we were called to share our experience with two of our fellows. My partners were Pat, from my small group, and Jalyn, someone I didn't know very well. I wasn't sure if I could share with them, particularly Jalyn. I waited to be the last to speak, wondering if I could come up with some other story to tell. When my turn came, I decided I had to be honest. Both Pat and Jalyn were more compassionate in response than I expected, describing my story as "beautiful." We ended with hugs (I'm always on the lookout for hugs).

Afterwards, I had a session with my spiritual director Jeanine, who suggested I had more self-exploration to do. I'm certain of that, and it appears it will take more time to be comfortable with myself than I thought. But that's the beauty of being on a journey that never quite ends; there's always more to learn. I should give credit to the writer of this blog's title: the Dalai Lama. The full quote from the workshop handout was "If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion."

Monday, April 22, 2019

Contemplative Development Retreat: The Mystery of Suffering



We had the first retreat weekend as part of the Contemplative Development program since November in April. As I rode up to Mariandale with Br. David and Br. Don we discussed how we would undoubtedly remember faces, but not people's names. Fortunately, we had name tags.

I had wondered what it would be like after only seeing my small group compatriots (and frequently not the whole group) over the last few months, but everything from checking in to my now refurbished room to picking up materials and eating dinner made the last gathering seem more like last month than five months ago.

The rooms now feature "magic blinds," which had everyone wondering how do we lower and raise these with magic? Apparently magic only refers to not using a cord. You place your hands on the lower part of the blind and lift up or pull down and they move accordingly. Disappointing in the magic department.

The sink, on the other hand, "magically" turns itself on and off as you place your hands beneath it. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to recognize a toothbrush; so in order to wet my brush, I had to place a glass beneath the faucet and then rush the toothbrush underneath the faucet before the water stopped. I think I prefer to live in a non-magic world.

 But the joys of being back on retreat made up for the lack of magic in the room. In spite of the fact that our topic for the weekend was suffering. I wasn't sure where this topic would lead us. After dinner together on Friday (where we were able to talk and renew acquaintances), we met and began talking about the "mystery of suffering." My first thought was, "What mystery? Suffering is about pain, what is so mysterious about that."

After the presentation, however, I started to write in my journal about the suffering Mary and I went through together and how that mysteriously brought us closer afterwards. Which to me means that when you've been through it together and somehow come out together on the other side, you learn about each other. You grow in trust and love. Since you're not going to make it through this life without suffering, you need to learn where you stand with the loved ones in your life. Who will be there for you and who won't? What are you capable of facing? More than I thought. You learn how to be there for each other, and what you can offer to others. To me, the mystery of suffering is that it brings you closer to others and teaches you when you can help others and when you need to pull back.
The next morning at prayer, Father Jack told a story of a monk who goes to the abbot and says he is ready to commit to the contemplative life. The abbot tells him, "You have to commit yourself to the contemplative life every day, day after day after day." That particularly resonated with me as I realized that this program will be over very soon now. After that it will be up to me. I will have to commit day after day after day for the rest of my life. Simply by making that commitment, I hope to be able to keep on the path, to continue this pilgrimage for the rest of my life.

Then we talked about Julian of Norwich, an anchoress who spent her adult life in a ten-foot-square room, with three windows: one into the church, one looking out at the city streets, and one to which people would come and ask her to pray for them or to give them advice. We were asked what window we're spending our time looking through these days. For me, it's the window out to the street. I've been taking time on my commute these days to pray for the other people on the bus and the train. I observe them and pray for them to be well (as Julian said, "All will be well.") Too often you think of the other the people on the bus and train as inconvenient at best. This one has been talking on their phone the whole ride; this one is crowding me; and this one is in the way or too slow as I go to get off the bus. So I try to remember that each person has a life as full and vivid as mine. I want them to be happy, to have a good day. I still get annoyed, but now I catch myself and remind myself that I can't know what they're going through and just as much as God loves me, She loves this "annoying" person. I now look forward to praying for them. Gaylen, who did a wonderful presentation on Julian of Norwich, suggested I use Julian's words as I gaze at each person, "All will be well, and all will be well."

Next we talked about how we are called to open our eyes to the suffering around us. I thought of our missioners who feel called to ease the suffering of the truly needy in the other parts of the world. Many of these missioners suffer themselves, from loneliness and feeling inadequate to suffering real pain from injuries to being physically attacked. I am reminded of a hymn our missioners like to sing, "We are called to love tenderly, we are called to serve one another, to walk humbly with God." It's a difficult call, but the rewards outweigh the difficulties, I think. It's too easy to forget that Jesus called us to love one another as we love ourselves. He said that's how they'll know we are His disciples.


We finished the weekend with a Visio Divina discussion of Jesus and the ten lepers (see the painting reproduced above). Visio Divina is a new process to me; a variation of Lectio Divina, which I'm more familiar with. You look at a painting of a Biblical story and then describe what you see in the painting without thinking about what it means. Then you read the Biblical passage the painting depicts, and try to figure out what God is telling you through the story. Then you read the passage again, and pray to God asking for guidance on his precise wishes for you today. Finally you read the story one more time and just meditate, opening yourself to hearing God's reply. It can be very powerful, and I love the painting, which shows the lepers celebrating being cured and heading off to the temple (perhaps), as Jesus instructed them. The one on the far right, however, is pausing. He will go back to Jesus to thank him personally. This gesture will ensure his place in Heaven. To me this says to always remember that Jesus or God is the source for all my blessings. I need to thank Him (Her) at every opportunity,

Which means that I need to thank God once again for bringing me to this program. It continues to change my life in so many positive ways. I hope that in the future I will learn more and more, and I will strive to have a community of some of my fellows in the program where we will continue to share stories of the journey and to pray with each other. Let me close with a picture of my favorite contemplative vision each weekend: The Hudson River. May God bless you and keep you!



Friday, March 29, 2019

Progress Along the Pilgrim's Road: The Contemplative Development Program


The photo above is the latest of Gaynell's creations for our "altar" table. Each time we meet, Gaynell (one of the facilitators) creates a unique design to mark the season or the topic of discussion. We recently had a small group meeting around this table, and I found myself staring at this particular arrangement of wood and stone. I was drawn to the harshness and different angles; it felt particularly "Lenten" to me.

I have always been drawn to what I might call the "stark" beauty of particular places we have visited over the years, such as in Newfoundland, Iceland, and northern Scotland. These places are the most awe-inspiring to me. So I see beauty in this table design.

This past month has been marked by slow growth in my contemplative spirit. What I have been most conscious of is a growing appreciation of the people around me. Taking public transportation, I spend a lot of time among "strangers." I am striving to spend time each bus, subway, and commuter train ride to pay attention to my fellow travelers. Too often I think of other people during my commute as annoyances: talking too loudly, crowding me, blocking the doors ... I struggle to look at each person now and say a silent prayer for them to be blessed and to have a good day.

I'm not saying I don't still get frustrated or angry, but now I usually catch myself and remember that they have lives as full as mine, with desires, loves, tragedies, hopes and fears. I try not to be too quick to judge others or to take umbrage at what they do. So if you think about it, say a prayer for me to be patient and loving.

I was also reminded at the last meeting that while there are three more weekend retreats (one next week, the first since November, I can hardly wait), there is only one more small group meeting left, and my fellow pilgrims are hoping for a pie. I think I can manage that.

I'll be through with the program in June, which is a little frightening: Will I be able to continue my work?  But I think I will. The rewards have been such, I can't imagine myself just dropping the practices. I'm always trying to find more time to do the various practices I have begun and those I wish to try. I didn't know what I was going into, but I believe that God called me to this, and She will remind me if I get lazy.

Be well!  God bless you! Happy Lent!

Monday, February 25, 2019

Sweet Gifts on the Journey

Basket Contains a Rack so You Can Carry Two Pies!


I went to the latest small group meeting for the Contemplative Formation program at Mariandale feeling that I had little to say. Each month when we don't have a weekend gathering of the whole group, five of us meet with our facilitator (Janet for our group) for a couple of hours. The meetings have proved exceptionally helpful in my making progress along this pilgrimage to a contemplative life.

We tell stories of what's been going on in our spiritual lives since the last meeting. We speak in turn listening carefully to what our pilgrim-comrades say. After everyone has spoken, we each share what was particularly relevant and meaningful to us in what we heard the others say. This is all done in a quiet, prayerful way. It's amazing to me how far each of us has traveled along this path, and while our journeys are separate, they provide insight and guidance for each other as well. A real fondness for and closeness with each other has grown among us.

The last couple of meetings had been particularly emotional and shell-shattering for me, but I felt this month had been so quiet and uneventful, I was almost embarrassed to speak about it. As I listened to the others speak, I felt my reflections growing. When my time came, I spoke about my latest conversation with Jeanine, my spiritual director, who advised me to take a break from self-examination and to take time to just observe God's creations without expectations. I also realized that I had been pushing through the required readings, trying this practice and trying that, almost in a rush to the "finish line," whatever that is. I needed to let go, to forgive myself for not being as "productive" as I might prefer.

Once I began speaking about this, I discovered that God has been doing her work with me all along, even without my asking (which is actually the whole point of this process). I spoke about how when riding the bus to work, I've been putting down my book about halfway through the ride and using the final minutes to observe my fellow passengers and to love them and to pray for them. I wish them a happy day bringing them that much closer to their dreams, free from harm and pain. When I actually spoke about it at the group, I realized how much this was affecting me as well.

There is a podcast I love, Two Feminists Annotate the Bible, in which two young women, an Anglican priest and a Bible class teacher, are going through the entire Bible and providing their insights and reactions. The priest, Jordan, spoke recently about how people have said to her, "Well, if we're all going to heaven whether we behave well or not, why shouldn't I just do whatever I want?" Jordan's response is that when you do what God wants you to do, you are rewarded in this life; to which I say, "Amen," with all my heart. Since beginning this program, I have felt God is giving me such an incredible gift, for no reason other than she loves me. A prayer I've been using recently for centering prayer includes the thought: "God doesn't love you because you are good. God loves you because she is good."
Basket has two handles for carrying

As a side note, the pictures I include this week are of a gift from one of the members of the group. I have over the course of the program talked about how I bake apple pies for the mission candidates here at Maryknoll, a sort of farewell gift of home to them before they go overseas. Baking these pies has become more and more a spiritual practice on my part, holding the missioners in my prayers as I go through each step in the process. When I mentioned this, my fellow pilgrims in the program responded, "We like apple pies, too." This week, small group member Carol gave me the basket pictured and told me it was a "pie carrier," something her mother used and that was given to her. She doesn't bake, so she thought I should have it. So our next weekend retreat (in April), I think I will have to bake two pies (there are 25 of us), one apple and one cherry, and use the carrier. It will be kind of a thank-you for this tremendous gift the program has been to me.

Mary blesses basket

Monday, January 14, 2019

Deepening Our Inner Silence Leads to Surfacing of Wounds We've Kept Hidden


The photo above is the latest of Gaynell's creations for our "altar" table. Each time we meet, Gaynell (one of the facilitators) creates a unique design to mark the season or the topic of discussion. We recently had a small group meeting around this table, and I found myself staring at this particular arrangement of wood and stone. I was drawn to the harshness and different angles; it felt particularly "Lenten" to me.

I have always been drawn to what I might call the "stark" beauty of particular places we have visited over the years, such as in Newfoundland, Iceland, and northern Scotland. These places are the most awe-inspiring to me. So I see beauty in this table design.

This past month has been marked by slow growth in my contemplative spirit. What I have been most conscious of is a growing appreciation of the people around me. Taking public transportation, I spend a lot of time among "strangers." I am striving to spend time each bus, subway, and commuter train ride to pay attention to my fellow travelers. Too often I think of other people during my commute as annoyances: talking too loudly, crowding me, blocking the doors ... I struggle to look at each person now and say a silent prayer for them to be blessed and to have a good day.

I'm not saying I don't still get frustrated or angry, but now I usually catch myself and remember that they have lives as full as mine, with desires, loves, tragedies, hopes and fears. I try not to be too quick to judge others or to take umbrage at what they do. So if you think about it, say a prayer for me to be patient and loving.

I was also reminded at the last meeting that while there are three more weekend retreats (one next week, the first since November, I can hardly wait), there is only one more small group meeting left, and my fellow pilgrims are hoping for a pie. I think I can manage that.

I'll be through with the program in June, which is a little frightening: Will I be able to continue my work?  But I think I will. The rewards have been such, I can't imagine myself just dropping the practices. I'm always trying to find more time to do the various practices I have begun and those I wish to try. I didn't know what I was going into, but I believe that God called me to this, and She will remind me if I get lazy.

Be well!  God bless you! Happy Lent!

Our Trip to Brazil: A Reflection

I have worked for Maryknoll Lay Missioners for over 23 years. Almost from the beginning I have wanted to go see the missioners w...