"Believe stubbornly that Jesus loves you."
(letter to St. Therese from Fr. Pichon, 1889)

Let Me love you.

I am a great fan of James Tissot's art (The Passion of Christ illustrated by James Tissot). I find he had a fresh and authentic way of portraying the events in the life of Christ. Tissot named this piece "Our Lord Jesus Christ", but to me it is the best portrayal I have seen of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, of His incessant thirst to give His love to us. "I am yours. Let Me love you."

(Look for more of his work in future blog entries.)

Fears and emotional wounds as the context for holiness

from Marc Foley's book on St. Therese of Lisieux, The Context of Holiness (ICS Publications)

"Becoming an adult does not mean that the deep emotional wounds of childhood disappear. Rather, being an adult means choosing to make courageous decisions in the face of powerful emotions." (p.13)

"When she [Therese] was assigned a job [novice mistress] that she thought was too much for her to handle, she felt overwhelmed, incompetent, unqualified, and inadequate . . . However, Therese does not apologize for her fears. She does not berate herself for feeling like a child; rather her fears and insecurities are the context within which she places her trust in God. It is as if Therese is saying to all of us: 'There are many situations in life that trigger the deep-seated fears of childhood. I have come to see that this is a normal part of daily life. I have also come to see that our childhood wounds are not obstacles to our spiritual growth but are in some mysterious manner the path on which we find our way back to God. The deep-seated fears of my life have forced me to abandon my self-sufficiency and to rely upon the grace of God.'" (p. 14)

"Therese did not make it a goal to get beyond the effects of her childhood but to do the will of God in the midst of them. Therese understood that the emotional wounds of her childhood were not obstacles to spiritual growth but the context of growing in holiness." (P. 96)

"Acts of faith are expressed in two ways. The first is our willingness to jump into the darkness, that is, choosing to trust in God's guidance as we venture into the unknown. The second is our willingness to sit in the darkness, which is continuing to do God's will when our emotional resources are depleted and life seems hollow, meaningless, and absurd. Therese was willing to sit in this darkness as long as God willed.
"These are the worst times in our life of faith when viewed from a psychological and emotional perspective. But from a spiritual vantage point, they are potentially the best of times. For when we continue to do God's will without emotional support, our love for God and neighbor grows and is purified." (pp. 136-7)

Christ, the lighted coal

"A friend comes to the rescue in time of need, and if he is aware of the truth of friendship, he directs his friend just as if he were himself and puts his own members at his disposal if he has lost his. ... a friend is a lighted coal, and if placed beside it, it can rekindle a dead one." (Bl. Simon Fidati of Cascia)

Christ is our true Friend, the lighted coal for each one of us, our hope of rekindling.

God is greater than our hearts . . .

I was away on vacation and then doing the proverbial catching up after vacation, and consequently neglecting this blog. Now I'm back.

Last week I read a very thought provoking--and hope provoking--piece in Magnificat by Msgr. Romano Guardini. The beginning may not sound hopeful--hang in there with it.

In the condemnation of the heart, it is God himself who condemns. Wrong has been done to him. Wrong has been done to the gentle and holy life that he has awakened in the heart, to the holy trust that binds him to his child. How can man's self-defense reach these depths.

What possible help is there? John says, "If our heart condemns, us, God is greater than our heart." Do you observe that this answer comes from the same depths as the condemnation itself? The answer is not: "You have done right. Your intentions were good. Be of good cheer." No, the answer is: "God is greater than your heart."

Your heart is great. That is the first thing, and it is amazing that that should be said at all. But God is still greater. The heart that has been lost is great. But God is greater. The heaviness of the heart to which wrong has been done is so great that it must sink. God is the sea of greatness where everything heavy is made light. The wrong that has been done to life is great. God is the Creator, and God is life and grace. He is greater than everything. The holiness to which wrong has been done partakes of the dignity of God. His trust has been infringed. That is terrible. But he himself, his magnanimity, his creative love, is greater than all this wrong. John does not say, "Cheer up, it isn't so bad after all." He does not say, "Don't take life so seriously." God says, "Give these things their full weight. Then I will come to you. I am God."

And when he comes, the creature will become clear to itself. Its self-importance will be dissolved, and everything will be fulfilled.

Courage

I just came across a card sent to me by a good friend at a very, very challenging time in my life. (A story for another time.) It was tucked away in the front zippered compartment of my bible, a place where I've put a number of treasures. I don't look in there very often, and, hence, I sometimes forget what is in there--like this card. There is only one word on the front of the card: Courage. The card then unfolds to a 17 x 11 inch poster with the quote: It is at night that faith in light is most admirable. I thought about laminating it and putting it up somewhere, but I think I like it best to just re-discover it once in awhile tucked away in that zippered compartment of my bible. And it always seems to be just the right time to re-read it . . . (Thank you, Kathleen K.)

Don't be afraid of being afraid

One of the greatest pieces of advice from my spiritual director--actually, almost everything he's ever said to me qualifies as "great"--was "Don't be afraid of being afraid." It quickly expanded to include "Don't be afraid of being a mess." "Don't be afraid of the emptying [God stripping me to give me more of Himself.]" etc. You can fill in your own blank.

One take on this is found in one of Caryll Houselander's letters: "During the war, I was simply terrified by air raids, and it was my lot to be in every one that happened in London, sometimes on the roofs of these flats, sometimes in the hospitals, sometimes in Mobile First Aid in the street. I tried to build up my courage by reason and prayer, etc. etc. Then one day I realized quite suddenly: as long as I try not to be afraid I shall be worse, and I shall show it one day and break; what God is asking of me, to do for suffering humanity, is to be afraid, to accept it and put up with it." In another letter: "You asked me how I managed to accept fear in the raids. Well--perfectly simply. Instead of kidding myself and trying to minimize the danger or to find some distraction from it, I said to myself: 'For as long as this raid lasts--an hour--or eight hours--you are going to be terrified. So just carry on and be terrified, that's all'--and at once the strain ceased. Oh yes, I was terrified: I've often had to resort to sheer force to hide the fact that my teeth were chattering, and been unable to speak as my mouth was too dried up and stiff from funk. But at the same time I felt that God had put His hand right down through all the well upon well of darkness and horror between Him and me and was holding the central point of my soul; and I knew that however afraid i was then, it would not, even could not, break me. I always volunteered (after the discovery) for most frightful things (if called on to do so only!)--like Mobile First Aid in the street, and fire watching on the roof Nell Gwynn: and always knew God was there in a special way, to accept the offering of fear. It's only when we try not to experience our special suffering that it can really break us." (November 11, 1949)

It's okay to be human . . . That's exactly where God meets us.

Keeping the eternal perspective

A great article about keeping the eternal perspective during the times we are facing.