"Loves in Jesus, then, with Him and in Him; adore, praise abandon yourself to the movement of His Sacred Heart, as Jesus abandons Himself. Repeat with Him: Father, my Father, holy Father, just Father, behold me; I am Thine, I give myself entirely to Thee; I desire naught but Thee, nothing else, but all of that...
And Thou, O Jesus, my God, fulfill Thy sublime, incomparable prayer, the prayer which Thou alone could have the divine audacity so to express:
'Father, this soul whom Thou hast given Me, whom Thou dost sanctify, at this instant, in the Truth that I am, I will that where I am, in Thy bosom, she may be with Me; and that thus she may see My glory, that glory which Thou didst give Me unceasingly when Thou dost engender Me.
'This glory I give to her as the Life eternal that I am in Thee, that she may share, together with all who are hers, in Our oneness; that the Love with which Thou hast loved Me, the Spirit uniting and consummating Us, may be in her; and that I Myself may be in her what I am in Thee, the object of Thy complacency.'
This is already far beyond my comprehension. But these thoughts immerse me in the Three, and I adore within me the living, true, eternal God.
Adore, O my soul, adore in silence. Leave yourself and all things. How good, were it only for a few moments, to have escaped each morning, from this world where one is forever dying, to drink one's fill of the life that never ends!
Adore and be still; and never will your silence be more fruitful. It re-echoes the silence of God the Father generating His Son, His Word, consubstantial with Himself, in the Love which binds them together, Father and Son; while simultaneously, it encompasses you in Their ineffable unity."
-- Pledge of Glory: Meditations on the Eucharist and the Trinity by Dom Eugene Vandeur
Showing posts with label contemplation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemplation. Show all posts
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Jesus is drawing you into sharing His affections as Son for the Father
"Commune, my soul, through Jesus Hostia, with the infinite complacency of this Father in the Son whom He contemplates, in His Word, His Thought, all His Glory; in whom He admires His own image and the splendor of His adorable perfections, the spotless mirror of His being, issue of His love.
You are, at this moment, the heaven of infinite delight for the Father and the Son. As at the Jordan, as on Thabor, nay, more appropriately than there, since you live in Jesus, the Father repeats over His Son: This day I have begotten thee. This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Beyond doubt, He repeats these words over you whom Jesus causes to participate in this paternal affection.
To this limitless love of the Father for His Son, the Son makes a similar return of love, eternal and infinite like unto His Father's. O, what a love is this! What an embrace, what a caress and kiss! This mutual love of each for the other is the Holy Spirit Himself. What a consummation, then, in the unity of this Spirit!
At this moment, Jesus is drawing you into sharing His affections as Son for the Father. He communicates them to you; He causes you to love God as He Himself loves Him. His heart becomes your heart, aspiring to this caress, this embrace.
Christian soul, do you not feel the fire of love devouring the heart of the Son of God, enveloping you with its own flames?"
-- Pledge of Glory: Meditations on the Eucharist and the Trinity by Dom Eugene Vandeur
You are, at this moment, the heaven of infinite delight for the Father and the Son. As at the Jordan, as on Thabor, nay, more appropriately than there, since you live in Jesus, the Father repeats over His Son: This day I have begotten thee. This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Beyond doubt, He repeats these words over you whom Jesus causes to participate in this paternal affection.
To this limitless love of the Father for His Son, the Son makes a similar return of love, eternal and infinite like unto His Father's. O, what a love is this! What an embrace, what a caress and kiss! This mutual love of each for the other is the Holy Spirit Himself. What a consummation, then, in the unity of this Spirit!
At this moment, Jesus is drawing you into sharing His affections as Son for the Father. He communicates them to you; He causes you to love God as He Himself loves Him. His heart becomes your heart, aspiring to this caress, this embrace.
Christian soul, do you not feel the fire of love devouring the heart of the Son of God, enveloping you with its own flames?"
-- Pledge of Glory: Meditations on the Eucharist and the Trinity by Dom Eugene Vandeur
Sunday, October 10, 2010
St John of the Cross and contemplative prayer
"St. John’s teaching on the transition from ordinary prayer to contemplation can be distilled into the following points:
By ordinary prayer St. John meant any kind of prayer that we can do by our own efforts aided by God’s grace. He called this meditation. In it we make use of our natural faculties, that is, our senses, imagination, intellect, memory and will in order to pray.
But since this is not how we understand meditation today, it is important to see the difference. Meditation today brings to mind a particular formula for praying in which we imagine a scene from the Gospel, for example, and draw conclusions about what it means for our lives, and this process stirs our hearts to praise, thank and love God, and to amend our lives. The realm of ordinary prayer, that is, prayer that we can do ourselves, is now divided between this kind of meditation and other more simplified and affective prayers that go under the names of the prayer of simplicity, or the prayer of the practice of the presence of God, and so forth. These kinds of prayers make much less use of the discursive activity of the intellect and much more of the will in acts of love. But for John of the Cross, who lived at a time before these distinctions fully emerged, meditation embraces all these kinds of ordinary prayer.
John also gives a precise meaning to the word contemplation. It is a kind of prayer that we cannot do whenever we want, for it does not depend on the natural working of the faculties. It is a prayer given by God in the depths of the heart so it is called infused contemplation, or mystical experience. The goal of the Christian life is union with God, and contemplation is a mysterious experience of that union.
St. John also gives us a schema of the evolution of the life of prayer. The beginning of our serious interest in the life of prayer, or conversion to God, is often marked by a period of sensible consolation. God feels present to us. We feel a warm glow in our spiritual exercises, a glow that pervades our feelings and thoughts, indeed, all our natural faculties, and serves the good purpose of drawing us from the things of the world to the things of God. But eventually this sense of God’s presence falls away. This can happen gradually or suddenly, and we are left in darkness. It can feel like God has abandoned us, and in our anxiety we wonder if we have committed some sin to bring about what appears to be a terrible state of affairs. And most of all, we want things to be back the way they were. This could be called the dark night of the senses in the wider meaning of the term, and is a common experience in those devoted to the life of prayer.
But this is not precisely what St. John is interested in. It is true, he says, that this dark night might be due to our lukewarmness or sins, or even to some kind of psychological problem which, in the language of his day, he called melancholy. But most of St. John’s energy goes into analyzing another possibility. This dark night might be a very distinctive kind of dark night that is meant to lead us from ordinary prayer or meditation to infused contemplation. His famous three signs were meant to guide us so we could discover whether we were actually called to this kind of contemplation or not.
The first sign is that we cannot pray like we did before. The second – in order to rule out a disinclination coming from our own bad conduct – is that we have no desire to fix our attention on other things. The third sign is meant to rule out melancholy, or a disinterest in things coming from some kind of psychological cause. But it goes beyond all that and is, by far, the most important sign. We are beginning to experience an interior quiet and rest that we are inclined to give ourselves to even while we may still be thinking that we should be going back to our old way of praying with our faculties, and that to give into this new inclination is to give into idleness. This inner quiet is the beginning of contemplation, itself. It is a loving knowledge that comes, not through the faculties of sense, imagination, intellect, memory or will, but wells up from the depths of the heart and draws us into those depths, to rest there and receive what God is giving us.
John was so concerned that someone might miss this call to contemplation that he described it in exquisite detail. He explains, for example, how this new experience could be so gentle and subtle, and we are so used to pounding away with the faculties, that it might be imperceptible at first – insensible, he says – to our ordinary consciousness. We would have to quiet ourselves and be lovingly attentive to this new experience in order to taste it. "
-- From St John of the Cross to us by James Arraj
By ordinary prayer St. John meant any kind of prayer that we can do by our own efforts aided by God’s grace. He called this meditation. In it we make use of our natural faculties, that is, our senses, imagination, intellect, memory and will in order to pray.
But since this is not how we understand meditation today, it is important to see the difference. Meditation today brings to mind a particular formula for praying in which we imagine a scene from the Gospel, for example, and draw conclusions about what it means for our lives, and this process stirs our hearts to praise, thank and love God, and to amend our lives. The realm of ordinary prayer, that is, prayer that we can do ourselves, is now divided between this kind of meditation and other more simplified and affective prayers that go under the names of the prayer of simplicity, or the prayer of the practice of the presence of God, and so forth. These kinds of prayers make much less use of the discursive activity of the intellect and much more of the will in acts of love. But for John of the Cross, who lived at a time before these distinctions fully emerged, meditation embraces all these kinds of ordinary prayer.
John also gives a precise meaning to the word contemplation. It is a kind of prayer that we cannot do whenever we want, for it does not depend on the natural working of the faculties. It is a prayer given by God in the depths of the heart so it is called infused contemplation, or mystical experience. The goal of the Christian life is union with God, and contemplation is a mysterious experience of that union.
St. John also gives us a schema of the evolution of the life of prayer. The beginning of our serious interest in the life of prayer, or conversion to God, is often marked by a period of sensible consolation. God feels present to us. We feel a warm glow in our spiritual exercises, a glow that pervades our feelings and thoughts, indeed, all our natural faculties, and serves the good purpose of drawing us from the things of the world to the things of God. But eventually this sense of God’s presence falls away. This can happen gradually or suddenly, and we are left in darkness. It can feel like God has abandoned us, and in our anxiety we wonder if we have committed some sin to bring about what appears to be a terrible state of affairs. And most of all, we want things to be back the way they were. This could be called the dark night of the senses in the wider meaning of the term, and is a common experience in those devoted to the life of prayer.
But this is not precisely what St. John is interested in. It is true, he says, that this dark night might be due to our lukewarmness or sins, or even to some kind of psychological problem which, in the language of his day, he called melancholy. But most of St. John’s energy goes into analyzing another possibility. This dark night might be a very distinctive kind of dark night that is meant to lead us from ordinary prayer or meditation to infused contemplation. His famous three signs were meant to guide us so we could discover whether we were actually called to this kind of contemplation or not.
The first sign is that we cannot pray like we did before. The second – in order to rule out a disinclination coming from our own bad conduct – is that we have no desire to fix our attention on other things. The third sign is meant to rule out melancholy, or a disinterest in things coming from some kind of psychological cause. But it goes beyond all that and is, by far, the most important sign. We are beginning to experience an interior quiet and rest that we are inclined to give ourselves to even while we may still be thinking that we should be going back to our old way of praying with our faculties, and that to give into this new inclination is to give into idleness. This inner quiet is the beginning of contemplation, itself. It is a loving knowledge that comes, not through the faculties of sense, imagination, intellect, memory or will, but wells up from the depths of the heart and draws us into those depths, to rest there and receive what God is giving us.
John was so concerned that someone might miss this call to contemplation that he described it in exquisite detail. He explains, for example, how this new experience could be so gentle and subtle, and we are so used to pounding away with the faculties, that it might be imperceptible at first – insensible, he says – to our ordinary consciousness. We would have to quiet ourselves and be lovingly attentive to this new experience in order to taste it. "
-- From St John of the Cross to us by James Arraj
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Learn to be at home in the darkness
"Central to all Carmelite teaching on contemplation is the haunting image of the dark night described by John of the Cross, taken from one of his most famous poems, called: ‘One Dark Night’. Most of his writing, in one way or another, is a commentary on this poem. John uses this powerful symbol of night to describe a time of great personal crisis in prayer and in one’s life in general.
Contemplation may be, as he has described it, ‘an inflow of God’s love into the heart’, but this inflow is as much a source of pain as it is of light. At a certain point on the journey, the lights go out, the spring runs dry, the engine grinds to a halt, the centre cannot hold, the honeymoon is over ... whatever image you wish to use. God is healing and freeing the soul; the light, which in itself is not painful, blinds the soul, causing darkness, pain and confusion.
John’s advice is clear and has a universal relevance: darkness is part of the human reality. We need to let go of our accustomed ways of seeing and doing, and enter into a different landscape; sometimes it takes darkness to bring us alive. The poet David Whyte captures this beautifully in his poem ‘Sweet Darkness’:
It is time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes to recognise its own;
there you can be sure
you will not be beyond love;
the night will give you horizons
further than your eyes can see.
Which is exactly what John of the Cross is saying: learn to be at home in the darkness, do not run away from it, do not fight it or even try to understand it, embrace it -‘the night has eyes’. A new and different world is being born, what seem to be death pangs are in fact birth pangs, the soul in darkness is being renewed and transfigured; a new and terrible beauty is born. Painful though it may be, there is in fact no other way except the way of trust and surrender, and ultimately of belief in the creative and transforming power of love. John’s invitation to accept ‘the dark ray of contemplation’ may not be easy, but there is no other way."
-- Contemplative Prayer in the Carmelite Tradition by Fr Eugene McCaffrey, ocd
Contemplation may be, as he has described it, ‘an inflow of God’s love into the heart’, but this inflow is as much a source of pain as it is of light. At a certain point on the journey, the lights go out, the spring runs dry, the engine grinds to a halt, the centre cannot hold, the honeymoon is over ... whatever image you wish to use. God is healing and freeing the soul; the light, which in itself is not painful, blinds the soul, causing darkness, pain and confusion.
John’s advice is clear and has a universal relevance: darkness is part of the human reality. We need to let go of our accustomed ways of seeing and doing, and enter into a different landscape; sometimes it takes darkness to bring us alive. The poet David Whyte captures this beautifully in his poem ‘Sweet Darkness’:
It is time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes to recognise its own;
there you can be sure
you will not be beyond love;
the night will give you horizons
further than your eyes can see.
Which is exactly what John of the Cross is saying: learn to be at home in the darkness, do not run away from it, do not fight it or even try to understand it, embrace it -‘the night has eyes’. A new and different world is being born, what seem to be death pangs are in fact birth pangs, the soul in darkness is being renewed and transfigured; a new and terrible beauty is born. Painful though it may be, there is in fact no other way except the way of trust and surrender, and ultimately of belief in the creative and transforming power of love. John’s invitation to accept ‘the dark ray of contemplation’ may not be easy, but there is no other way."
-- Contemplative Prayer in the Carmelite Tradition by Fr Eugene McCaffrey, ocd
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Contemplation begins with desire
"Contemplation begins with desire – not our desire for God, but his desire for us. The first and greatest commandment may be to love God with every fibre of our being, but there is something still more fundamental: the realisation that we are loved first. Every contemplative makes this discovery, and in fact bases his/her life on it: that our God is a pursuing God. The whole Carmelite tradition is clear: our desire for God is first awakened by his desire for us. This is the message of our great saints and mystics. The Dark Night and The Spiritual Canticle of John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila’s Interior Castle – together with every other spiritual classic – celebrate this divine pursuit: the Lover and the beloved seeking each other in the light and the darkness of love’s turbulent ways.
The hungers of the heart and the longings of the spirit are the result of God first desiring us and coming to us in love. This is what Iain Matthew, one of our most popular Carmelite writers, calls ‘the impact of God’: a God who is not a bystander waiting for us to find him but a restless God seeking to make space for himself in our lives. The challenge, of course, for all of us, is to let ourselves beloved, as the young French Carmelite, Elizabeth of the Trinity has said, and allow the reality of this love to change our hearts. It often comes as a surprise that Carmelite writers speak so little about ways and methods of prayer. Instead, they go straight to the heart of what prayer is all about: exposure to this selfsurrendering God. Their concern does not consist in the knowledge that we are saved, but in the assurance that we are loved. For them, the focus is clear and what they seek most of all is to awaken the heart to the presence within. ‘No matter how much you think you are searching for God’, John of the Cross reminds us, ‘he is searching for you much more.’
The one we are searching for is here in the very depths of our being, inviting and waiting for our response. This is why the key element of Carmelite prayer is silent, loving attentiveness to the one who dwells within.
The heart of contemplative prayer is love, and love is the only reality that will ultimately change us. Only when we have found a greater and a deeper love can we let go of the lesser loves that can ensnare the heart and hold it captive. Contemplation is the key to freedom of heart; it is a way of opening ourselves to the embrace of God’s love. John of the Cross may have a reputation for rugged asceticism but at the core of his teaching is the fact that love is the only reality that will ultimately change the heart from within. John is at pains to remind us that there is no setting out on the contemplative journey, unless the soul is, in the beautiful Spanish phrase, en amores inflamada, ‘enkindled with love and yearning’."
-- Contemplative Prayer in the Carmelite Tradition by Fr Eugene McCaffrey, ocd
The hungers of the heart and the longings of the spirit are the result of God first desiring us and coming to us in love. This is what Iain Matthew, one of our most popular Carmelite writers, calls ‘the impact of God’: a God who is not a bystander waiting for us to find him but a restless God seeking to make space for himself in our lives. The challenge, of course, for all of us, is to let ourselves beloved, as the young French Carmelite, Elizabeth of the Trinity has said, and allow the reality of this love to change our hearts. It often comes as a surprise that Carmelite writers speak so little about ways and methods of prayer. Instead, they go straight to the heart of what prayer is all about: exposure to this selfsurrendering God. Their concern does not consist in the knowledge that we are saved, but in the assurance that we are loved. For them, the focus is clear and what they seek most of all is to awaken the heart to the presence within. ‘No matter how much you think you are searching for God’, John of the Cross reminds us, ‘he is searching for you much more.’
The one we are searching for is here in the very depths of our being, inviting and waiting for our response. This is why the key element of Carmelite prayer is silent, loving attentiveness to the one who dwells within.
The heart of contemplative prayer is love, and love is the only reality that will ultimately change us. Only when we have found a greater and a deeper love can we let go of the lesser loves that can ensnare the heart and hold it captive. Contemplation is the key to freedom of heart; it is a way of opening ourselves to the embrace of God’s love. John of the Cross may have a reputation for rugged asceticism but at the core of his teaching is the fact that love is the only reality that will ultimately change the heart from within. John is at pains to remind us that there is no setting out on the contemplative journey, unless the soul is, in the beautiful Spanish phrase, en amores inflamada, ‘enkindled with love and yearning’."
-- Contemplative Prayer in the Carmelite Tradition by Fr Eugene McCaffrey, ocd
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A contemplative attitude dwells in the present
"An active attitude, even though it be directed to the attainment of a purpose important in itself, is always typically distinct from a contemplative one. Thus, if we undertake a journey in order to see a beloved person again, or if we perform a lofty moral action, our intent is not contemplative. For first, it is filled by a tension towards the future: the thought of something which does not yet exist and which is to be brought about. And, secondly, in contemplating an aim we do not accord to the good we intend to realize that broad, undivided attention which is implicit in contemplation proper.
Our attention to the object conceived as an end for action, express and emphatic as it may be, always retains a certain narrow and functional quality (akin, in some measure, to a technical attitude of abstraction and formalization), which also manifests itself in the fact of our advancing towards our end through a succession of means.
The contemplative attitude, on the other hand—such as the contemplation of an object of great beauty and the pure, restful joy it yields—is free from that dynamic tension towards the future; it implies, not a hastening forward but a dwelling in the present. Further, the attention we accord to the object is direct, unqualified, broad (as it were); it is undivided, instead of being limited by attention given to other objects as well, as is necessarily the case when we intend an object purposely in action, which we cannot do without also devoting ourselves to the means."
-- Transformation in Christ by Dietrich von Hildebrand
Our attention to the object conceived as an end for action, express and emphatic as it may be, always retains a certain narrow and functional quality (akin, in some measure, to a technical attitude of abstraction and formalization), which also manifests itself in the fact of our advancing towards our end through a succession of means.
The contemplative attitude, on the other hand—such as the contemplation of an object of great beauty and the pure, restful joy it yields—is free from that dynamic tension towards the future; it implies, not a hastening forward but a dwelling in the present. Further, the attention we accord to the object is direct, unqualified, broad (as it were); it is undivided, instead of being limited by attention given to other objects as well, as is necessarily the case when we intend an object purposely in action, which we cannot do without also devoting ourselves to the means."
-- Transformation in Christ by Dietrich von Hildebrand
Sunday, August 8, 2010
The hidden dynamos of prayer
-- Peace of Soul by Archbishop Fulton J Sheen
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Lord 'calls everyone' to drink at the fountain of living waters
"On several occasions St Teresa clearly showed that the Lord 'calls everyone' to drink at the fountain of living waters, which is synonymous for her with infused contemplation. 'He calls souls to his,' she writes, 'publicly, and in a loud voice.' She makes this clearer when she says: 'All of us who wear this holy habit of Carmel are called to prayer and contemplation. Such was the purpose of our Order from the beginning.' Yet, she adds: 'There are very few who have the dispositions needed if God is to grant them this contemplation.' For this she demands a life of self-abnegation, humility, generosity, and the total gift of oneself to God.
St Teresa hardly doubts that those who possess these virtues will attain to contemplation. 'God truly has but one desire: to find souls to whom He can give Himself.' She exhorts her daughters to 'make strenuous efforts and not to stop halfway.' 'Sometimes the Lord is late in coming, but then He rewards handsomely, and He gives as much in a single visit as He gave others in small amounts over several years.'
According to St Teresa, all generous souls and all who give themselves completely to God are called to contemplation. Not that they will all be led by 'the way' of contemplation. There are two ways. But all will at least drink a little at the fountain of living waters, that is, they will occasionally receive some mystical grace. 'To those who want to follow Him,' she writes, 'God grants a great number of ways of drinking the living water, so that no one need be deprived of its consolations or die of thirst. From this source spring up streams, some large, others small.'
Although St John of the Cross stated that 'the way' of contemplation was not for all souls, he also recognized that those who resolutely make efforts to practise virtue participate in the passive nights and enjoy the favors of contemplation. Other Carmelite writers on mysticism repeat the same teaching. For them, as for their founders, infused contemplation is granted to all generous souls.
From these passages we can see clearly enough that infused contemplation is the ordinary and natural development of the spiritual life and is to be expected as a result of a life of generosity towards God. It is not an extraordinary grace. However, the way of contemplation is not the only way which leads to perfection. God leads some souls by another path, which will arrive at sanctity as well as the others."
-- The spirit and prayer of Carmel by François Jamart, ocd
St Teresa hardly doubts that those who possess these virtues will attain to contemplation. 'God truly has but one desire: to find souls to whom He can give Himself.' She exhorts her daughters to 'make strenuous efforts and not to stop halfway.' 'Sometimes the Lord is late in coming, but then He rewards handsomely, and He gives as much in a single visit as He gave others in small amounts over several years.'
According to St Teresa, all generous souls and all who give themselves completely to God are called to contemplation. Not that they will all be led by 'the way' of contemplation. There are two ways. But all will at least drink a little at the fountain of living waters, that is, they will occasionally receive some mystical grace. 'To those who want to follow Him,' she writes, 'God grants a great number of ways of drinking the living water, so that no one need be deprived of its consolations or die of thirst. From this source spring up streams, some large, others small.'
Although St John of the Cross stated that 'the way' of contemplation was not for all souls, he also recognized that those who resolutely make efforts to practise virtue participate in the passive nights and enjoy the favors of contemplation. Other Carmelite writers on mysticism repeat the same teaching. For them, as for their founders, infused contemplation is granted to all generous souls.
From these passages we can see clearly enough that infused contemplation is the ordinary and natural development of the spiritual life and is to be expected as a result of a life of generosity towards God. It is not an extraordinary grace. However, the way of contemplation is not the only way which leads to perfection. God leads some souls by another path, which will arrive at sanctity as well as the others."
-- The spirit and prayer of Carmel by François Jamart, ocd
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A divine darkness covers the soul so well prepared for pure contemplation
"May the Holy Spirit be served in granting his aid, and whatever is said here be for the glory of the same God.
This Lord says, that in the beginning when God made the heaven and the earth there was darkness over the abysses, and the spirit of the Lord walked over the waters. When his Divine Majesty wants to grant favor to a soul, He makes it remain in nothing and empty of all, remaining so broken-down and lost from itself as if it weren't , that it may truly receive his divine spirit, having completely gotten rid of all affections and appetites, conquered and beaten all passions, erased from itself all the images and forms that could disturb it. Being as it were a flat and smooth board, without a smudge, and without anything that in itself that would remove or disturb the new paint for which it is disposed, then, to this soul so well prepared, a divine darkness covers its deep abysses of its capacity, in the immensity of God; because this is a pure contemplation in which the soul receives communication from God himself in its very substance. And because the immensity of light of this divine being of God excels so much at the sight of the soul, this divine light becomes for it darkness in terms of what it can receive from him; that the blinder it is and He with immensity in himself is brighter, the darker it seems; and the more it receives from him (the greater the brightness that it receives from him), that greater clarity leaves it blinder in terms of itself and its natural operations."
-- Transformación del alma en Dios, 1 by Cecilia del Nacimiento, ocd
translated by ocdsister
This Lord says, that in the beginning when God made the heaven and the earth there was darkness over the abysses, and the spirit of the Lord walked over the waters. When his Divine Majesty wants to grant favor to a soul, He makes it remain in nothing and empty of all, remaining so broken-down and lost from itself as if it weren't , that it may truly receive his divine spirit, having completely gotten rid of all affections and appetites, conquered and beaten all passions, erased from itself all the images and forms that could disturb it. Being as it were a flat and smooth board, without a smudge, and without anything that in itself that would remove or disturb the new paint for which it is disposed, then, to this soul so well prepared, a divine darkness covers its deep abysses of its capacity, in the immensity of God; because this is a pure contemplation in which the soul receives communication from God himself in its very substance. And because the immensity of light of this divine being of God excels so much at the sight of the soul, this divine light becomes for it darkness in terms of what it can receive from him; that the blinder it is and He with immensity in himself is brighter, the darker it seems; and the more it receives from him (the greater the brightness that it receives from him), that greater clarity leaves it blinder in terms of itself and its natural operations."
-- Transformación del alma en Dios, 1 by Cecilia del Nacimiento, ocd
translated by ocdsister
Friday, January 15, 2010
Is infused prayer necessary for perfection?
"It is quite certain that it is not necessary. St Teresa declares that her daughters, 'although devoted to prayer, need not all be contemplatives properly so called.' She says that is impossible. 'A soul will not be prevented from being perfect without this gift and can achieve perfection just as the greatest contemplatives do.' The way of contemplation is a 'short-cut' by which God gives powerful aid and accomplishes His work in a very short time. But He distributes His grace when He wishes, as He wishes, and to whom He wishes without taking account of time or the service one has rendered Him. 'He acts in this way for reasons known only to Himself.'
However, side by side with this way of contemplation, there is another, which is the way of conformity to the divine Will and which, too, can lead to perfection. 'Real union with God,' says St Teresa, 'can easily be achieved if we make efforts not to have any will of our own and to embrace everything demanded of us by the divine Will.' No doubt, this will demand more effort from us 'because the soul works more with its own energy,' but it will also have much more merit, 'and its reward will be greater. Ultimately, however, the infused kinds of prayer themselves have no other purpose than to bring us to that union of conformity in which true perfection consists.'
St John of the Cross is of the same opinion. 'God does not elevate all those to contemplation,' he writes, 'who are faithful in the practice of the spiritual life. Not even half of these are so privileged. Why? He alone knows the reason.' The reason, say the Carmelite authors who have interpreted this statement, is to be found sometimes in a lack of generosity in these souls, sometimes in the Will of God.
There are, then, two ways of arriving at perfection. However, even souls who do not walk in the way of infused contemplation or mystical prayer can sometimes be favored by contemplation."
-- The Spirit and Prayer of Carmel by Fr François Jamart, ocd
However, side by side with this way of contemplation, there is another, which is the way of conformity to the divine Will and which, too, can lead to perfection. 'Real union with God,' says St Teresa, 'can easily be achieved if we make efforts not to have any will of our own and to embrace everything demanded of us by the divine Will.' No doubt, this will demand more effort from us 'because the soul works more with its own energy,' but it will also have much more merit, 'and its reward will be greater. Ultimately, however, the infused kinds of prayer themselves have no other purpose than to bring us to that union of conformity in which true perfection consists.'
St John of the Cross is of the same opinion. 'God does not elevate all those to contemplation,' he writes, 'who are faithful in the practice of the spiritual life. Not even half of these are so privileged. Why? He alone knows the reason.' The reason, say the Carmelite authors who have interpreted this statement, is to be found sometimes in a lack of generosity in these souls, sometimes in the Will of God.
There are, then, two ways of arriving at perfection. However, even souls who do not walk in the way of infused contemplation or mystical prayer can sometimes be favored by contemplation."
-- The Spirit and Prayer of Carmel by Fr François Jamart, ocd
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Meditation remains an excellent and very safe way
"...[I]t can be seen that between discursive prayer and infused contemplation there is a state of prayer which consists in keeping a loving, confused, and general attention on God, and in giving Our Lord a glance that is full of love, but not distinct or particular. Spiritual writers have called this prayer by various names: the prayer of recollection; the prayer of simplicity or the simple glance at God. They also call it active or acquired contemplation.
This type of prayer is already a form of contemplation, but it is not of the mystical or supernatural type, in the sense given to this word by St Teresa. We can acquire it by our own generous efforts, aided by God's grace. There is already to be found in it the influence of the gifts of the Holy Ghost, although these are hardly perceptible yet. This type of contemplation rewards the efforts of generous and faithful souls fairly soon, especially those who are in the religious life.
However, we ought not to try to attain to this type of prayer before the time for it has arrived; otherwise, we risk daydreaming and accomplish nothing. St John of the Cross indicates three signs by which we can recognize whether a soul enjoys this kind of contemplation:
First, one finds it impossible to meditate, as formerly, and finds only dryness in this kind of prayer instead of the satisfaction which one used to get from it, or instead of the activity which made it possible.
Second, one does not feel inclined to think about other things, either external or internal.
Third, one feels attracted to God and wishes to occupy oneself with Him in calmness and silence, without making any effort at reasoning.
When these three signs are found together, then the soul must leave meditation for contemplation. This does not mean that we must never go back to discursive prayer. For at the beginning the soul is not yet established in perfect contemplation. If sometimes it finds itself favored by this contemplation as soon as it places itself in the presence of God, it will at other times be unable to enter into this state except with the aid of some considerations.
Besides, this initial contemplation is not always of long duration; and as soon as the loving attention to God slackens, one must revive it by considerations. It can even happen that contemplation needs to be initiated by means of some brief considerations. Then we must at once take up discursive prayer. To maintain that we can no longer return to it because we have enjoyed the beginnings of contemplation, even supernatural contemplation, would be the result of pride and would lead to idleness.
Meditation remains an 'excellent and very safe way, until Our Lord raises us to other supernatural things.' It is a form of prayer which is within the reach of all souls. As St Teresa says: 'all that is necessary is the habitual practice of love. For God will always give us the opportunity to practice it if we desire it.'
Over and above this prayer of recollection or active contemplation come the different kinds of infused prayer. These are a gratuitous gift of God; none of our own efforts can procure them for us, and one must not try to attempt the on one's own. According to St Teresa, a soul which God has not elevated to this degree of prayer will do well not to try to undertake it of its own accord. It could only suffer harm and risk falling into deception."
-- The Spirit and Prayer of Carmel by Fr François Jamart, ocd
This type of prayer is already a form of contemplation, but it is not of the mystical or supernatural type, in the sense given to this word by St Teresa. We can acquire it by our own generous efforts, aided by God's grace. There is already to be found in it the influence of the gifts of the Holy Ghost, although these are hardly perceptible yet. This type of contemplation rewards the efforts of generous and faithful souls fairly soon, especially those who are in the religious life.
However, we ought not to try to attain to this type of prayer before the time for it has arrived; otherwise, we risk daydreaming and accomplish nothing. St John of the Cross indicates three signs by which we can recognize whether a soul enjoys this kind of contemplation:
First, one finds it impossible to meditate, as formerly, and finds only dryness in this kind of prayer instead of the satisfaction which one used to get from it, or instead of the activity which made it possible.
Second, one does not feel inclined to think about other things, either external or internal.
Third, one feels attracted to God and wishes to occupy oneself with Him in calmness and silence, without making any effort at reasoning.
When these three signs are found together, then the soul must leave meditation for contemplation. This does not mean that we must never go back to discursive prayer. For at the beginning the soul is not yet established in perfect contemplation. If sometimes it finds itself favored by this contemplation as soon as it places itself in the presence of God, it will at other times be unable to enter into this state except with the aid of some considerations.
Besides, this initial contemplation is not always of long duration; and as soon as the loving attention to God slackens, one must revive it by considerations. It can even happen that contemplation needs to be initiated by means of some brief considerations. Then we must at once take up discursive prayer. To maintain that we can no longer return to it because we have enjoyed the beginnings of contemplation, even supernatural contemplation, would be the result of pride and would lead to idleness.
Meditation remains an 'excellent and very safe way, until Our Lord raises us to other supernatural things.' It is a form of prayer which is within the reach of all souls. As St Teresa says: 'all that is necessary is the habitual practice of love. For God will always give us the opportunity to practice it if we desire it.'
Over and above this prayer of recollection or active contemplation come the different kinds of infused prayer. These are a gratuitous gift of God; none of our own efforts can procure them for us, and one must not try to attempt the on one's own. According to St Teresa, a soul which God has not elevated to this degree of prayer will do well not to try to undertake it of its own accord. It could only suffer harm and risk falling into deception."
-- The Spirit and Prayer of Carmel by Fr François Jamart, ocd
Thursday, October 8, 2009
IV. Contemplation
"Contemplation, according to Father John of Jesus-Mary Aravalles is the application of the will to truths which the mind presents to it as the conclusion of its considerations or meditations. After thoroughly considering a subject, the mind tries to reduce all considerations concerning it to one principal thought and to concentrate everything into one practical conclusion. The mind dwells on this thought and contemplates it, while the will adheres to it and firmly resolves to put it into practice. Being resolved to act, the soul then addresses itself to the Most Blessed Trinity, or more commonly to Christ, the second Person, who ordinarily exemplifies the truth one is meditating upon. The soul then tells God the Father, or Our Lord, of its love for Him and its desire to belong to Him entirely. It humbly beseeches Him for help to carry out its resolutions, with absolute confidence in its detachment from self. The soul thus surrenders itself to Him and asks Him to accomplish in it what it cannot do itself.
It is this simple gaze fixed on the Most Blessed Trinity, or on Christ, with the loving colloquy which accompanies it, that the Carmelite authors we have cited above call contemplation. For them this is the central point of discursive prayer, as can be seen especially in the writings of St John of the Cross and St Teresa. For St Teresa, prayer is above all 'a friendly converse in which we speak intimately with God by whom we know we are loved.' She wants us to tell God of our love for Him, familiarly, without trying to compose beautiful soliloquies or prolonging these more than necessary, with the intent above all to give ourselves to Him, to please Him, to do the divine Will in everything, and to become one with Christ in the practice of virtue.
Sometimes the soul becomes silent, engages in contemplation, makes acts of love; then it listens to what God wants to to hear. For He speaks to those who love Him, not precisely in words that the ear hears, but by enlightening them. 'God speaks to us,' said St Teresa, 'even though we do not hear Him. He speaks to the heart when we pray from the heart.'
These acts in which the soul gives expression to its love and its desire to belong entirely to God are, at first, rather numerous; they become fewer as the soul makes progress, for then the soul comes to prefer certain acts of love which keep it better united to God Our Lord."
-- The Spirit and Prayer of Carmel by Fr François Jamart, ocd
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The call to be contemplatives is one addressed to all people
“In 1983 at the conclusion of his twelve years as Prior General [of the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance], Fr Falco Thuis published a book entitled In Wonder at the Mystery of God in which he presented a rather fresh approach to contemplation based upon what he had experienced during his time as General. Early in the book he writes: ‘every man ought to be a contemplative.’ His point is that in the midst of a frenetic world which is regarded by many as an end in itself, all are called to become aware of what is transcendent in others. He states strongly that contemplation can never be about detachment from life or alienation from reality, but goes on to give a useful if somewhat novel definition of contemplation: ‘It [contemplation] is a technical term for that vital reality which leads every man to the discovery of what it means to be himself.’ … In other words, it is only when I am living in right relationship with God and thus with others, that I can come to know who I am and what my place in the world should be.
This goes on to emphasise that continual attention to the word of God is vital for this awareness to grow. He points out that in Gaudium et Spes, no 36, it is clear that what God has created is both good and beautiful, and so in everyday reality humankind must be encouraged to see the hand of the creator at work. He states that deep within the being of every person, there is a strong sense of incompleteness which causes the individual to always want more out of life. This, he contends, is the longing that only union with God can satisfy, and the longing itself is the beginning of contemplation. This desire for more in the depth of the person’s being is answered by the presence of the Holy Spirit who imparts the gift of wisdom. Most importantly from our perspective, he expresses the conviction that contemplation is open to all people. He writes: ‘Contemplation is attained… by every baptised person who has responded positively to the divine plan in his regard.’ He also points out that this treasure is frequently to be found in ordinary people who put it into practice in the little details of their daily lives.
So, as we reflect more and more on what contemplation is, we realize that the call to be contemplatives is one addressed to all people. I keep emphasizing this point for it is a point that is not always appreciated, and is a gift from God through Carmel for all the baptised.”
-- From the essay Eucharist and Contemplation by Brian McKay, O Carm, in Hidden Riches: The Eucharist in the Carmelite Tradition
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Our embrace of God will be in accordance with our embrace of his will...
"Here then (...) is the fruit of Christ's prayer. Because he contemplates as any other human being and because His prayer is a constant heart-to-heart communication with God - or more precisely, a dwelling in God - it is a total and immensely heroic obedience. He has one care only: to obey God. He is rooted in obedience as faithfully as he is rooted in prayer.
We follow the opposite path. Christ started out from contemplation to come to the perfection of obedience. We must start out from the perfection of obedience to arrive at contemplation. This is the reverse route we must follow. In the depths of our being, our prayer is worth what our obedience is worth. Our embrace of God will be in accordance with our embrace of his will...
Let us consider, then, what constituted this profound prayer in the soul of Christ. Let us contemplate the great mysteries of the Beatific Vision and the Hypostatic Union. Let us go to work courageously to welcome God within us, so that we can know the immense nourishment to be derived from constant, deep prayer. We will reach out for this prayer with humility and obedience. To understand happiness for the presence of God and to have a foretaste of heaven here below, let us take the necessary steps, while repeating the words found in our Office: 'Taste and see the goodness of the Lord' [Ps 34:9]. May we experience the truth of his words and may we likewise know the road that leads to him."
-- Fr Jaques of Jesus, ocd
Cited in Père Jacques: Resplendent in Victory by Francis Murphy, SJ
Though Fr Jacques was addressing discalced nuns, his counsel of obedience applies to all. Obedience to whom, you may ask. Obedience to parents, obedience to superiors (ie, spiritual directors), obedience to the Magisterium of the Church. We may disagree with something, perhaps due to a lack of understanding or ignorance, but humble submission in a spirit of faith will bring us closer to Christ, help us grow in virtue. Moral theologians teach that unless we're asked to do something that is obviously a sin (ie, against Church teaching), we should be obedient to the best of our abilities. Look at Christ, already a grown man and God in the flesh, and He obeyed His Mother when she asked Him for help when the newly wed couple at Cana ran out of wine. And Denis the Carthusian said: "If you are doubtful whether a command is contrary to the law of God you should follow the command of your director because even if it is against the law of God, the one who obeys does not sin." It's not easy to be obedient, but we must try to be so, and ask for the virtue of obedience.
We follow the opposite path. Christ started out from contemplation to come to the perfection of obedience. We must start out from the perfection of obedience to arrive at contemplation. This is the reverse route we must follow. In the depths of our being, our prayer is worth what our obedience is worth. Our embrace of God will be in accordance with our embrace of his will...
Let us consider, then, what constituted this profound prayer in the soul of Christ. Let us contemplate the great mysteries of the Beatific Vision and the Hypostatic Union. Let us go to work courageously to welcome God within us, so that we can know the immense nourishment to be derived from constant, deep prayer. We will reach out for this prayer with humility and obedience. To understand happiness for the presence of God and to have a foretaste of heaven here below, let us take the necessary steps, while repeating the words found in our Office: 'Taste and see the goodness of the Lord' [Ps 34:9]. May we experience the truth of his words and may we likewise know the road that leads to him."
-- Fr Jaques of Jesus, ocd
Cited in Père Jacques: Resplendent in Victory by Francis Murphy, SJ
Though Fr Jacques was addressing discalced nuns, his counsel of obedience applies to all. Obedience to whom, you may ask. Obedience to parents, obedience to superiors (ie, spiritual directors), obedience to the Magisterium of the Church. We may disagree with something, perhaps due to a lack of understanding or ignorance, but humble submission in a spirit of faith will bring us closer to Christ, help us grow in virtue. Moral theologians teach that unless we're asked to do something that is obviously a sin (ie, against Church teaching), we should be obedient to the best of our abilities. Look at Christ, already a grown man and God in the flesh, and He obeyed His Mother when she asked Him for help when the newly wed couple at Cana ran out of wine. And Denis the Carthusian said: "If you are doubtful whether a command is contrary to the law of God you should follow the command of your director because even if it is against the law of God, the one who obeys does not sin." It's not easy to be obedient, but we must try to be so, and ask for the virtue of obedience.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
15 mins may change your day
"If we add a little time to the beginning of our day, even if it means getting up fifteen minutes earlier, this contemplative moment in the early morning can enrich our whole day. Don't worry, you're not wasting time. Don't think that you are taking time away from something that needs to be done. Without the contemplative dimension, the whole day can slip away into a mad chase, but those few minutes can give it meaning and joy. And if you can set aside a little corner in your home, however modest, as a sanctuary, that space can readily conduct you each day back into the contemplative mode.
-o-
If you get up fifteen minutes earlier, you have this extra bit of time that doesn't have to be put to some practical purpose. The useful fits into your normal routine. You can delight in this extra time, savoring it in any way you wish. Many play music in the morning. Not a few these days listen to chant, the music that monks chant at this hour, music in which the great silence of mystery becomes sound. If you make time for this, it may change the whole character of your day.
-o-
In any walk of life, you can build into your day prayer breaks that connect you with the Spirit. They don't have to be ten minutes long; they may be only ten seconds long, yet they'll be helpful. (...) [S]imply stop for a few moments and open yourself to the force of love that drives the universe. Stop and bless. Stop and appreciate. Take note of the gifts of your life and share them."
-- Music of Silence: A Sacred Journey Through the Hours of the Day by David Steindl-Rast, osb, & Sharon Lebell
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