Guerric of Igny and Advent

The Cistercians, ever since my frequent visits to their abbey in Conyers, Georgia while an undergraduate at Emory, have had a deep appeal to me. There are so many great spiritual writers found among them in their earliest flourishing in the mid twelfth century, and one of the finest is Blessed Guerric of Igny (+1157), who with Bernard of Clairvaux, William of St Thierry and Aelred of Reivaulx, is considered one of the “four evangelists of Citeaux”.

 

We do not know much about Guerric’s early life as a teacher and scholar, but we do know that like so many others he fell under the spell of St Bernard and became a Cistercian monk and then abbot at the new foundation of Igny in France. There he attained a saintly reputation as a scholar and spiritual teacher.

Igny abbey today

Igny has gone through many travails in its long history, suffering much in the French Revolution and modern trials. After various closures and persecutions, it once again flourishes as an abbey for Cistercian nuns, who in their daily lives continue to live out this beautiful tradition of prayer and work, ora et labora, that is at the heart of the Benedictine and Cistercian heritage.

 

Guerric has left to us fewer writings than many of the other Cistercians mentioned above, but his 54 Liturgical Sermons are a precious and in my opinion unequaled reflection on the meaning of the liturgical year and the Christian way of prayer and salvation.  In this beautiful setting of Igny, Guerric set forth for his monks the spiritual riches of the liturgy, and the profound meaning of the important seasons and festivals of the Church year.

As we approach the great feast of Christmas, I would like to share with you two brief passages from Guerric. The first concerns an exhortation to the monastic practice of lectio divina, the prayerful reading of Scripture which the monks and nuns make time for everyday. In one sermon Guerric has this to say:

Search the Scripture.  For you are not mistaken in thinking that you find life in them, you who seek nothing else in them but Christ, to whom the Scriptures bear witness.  Blessed indeed are they who search his testimonies, seek them out with all their heart.  Therefore you who walk about in the gardens of the Scriptures do not pass by heedlessly and idly, but searching each and every word like busy bees gathering honey from flowers, reap the Spirit from the words. (Sermon 54).

This is an invitation in this busy season to take time in the days leading up to Christmas and in the subsequent holiday to quietly and prayerfully read the Infancy Narratives in the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke, and the Prologue to the Gospel of John. Let them speak to your heart, and bring new insights to light, to nourish your soul with these familiar stories in new and even unexpected ways.

In one of his sermons for Advent, in a striking manner Guerric urges us to also cultivate silence in a season not always known in our contemporary society for quiet reflection. Indeed, he strikingly draws upon the imagery of Christ patiently waiting in the womb of his Blessed Mother these days before his birth as a model for our own spiritual practice:

“As the Christ-child in the womb advanced toward birth in a long, deep silence, so does the discipline of silence nourish, form and strengthen a person’s spirit, and produce growth which is the safer and more wholesome for being the more hidden.”(Sermon 28)

May this Advent and Christmastide bring us many moments of productive silence, and a fresh appreciation, with the eyes and ears of a spiritual child of God, of the treasures of familiar yet always new Sacred Scripture, and what the Spirit is trying to teach us through them.

Aphrahat

The conventional  view of western history sees the conversion of Constantine and the end of Roman persecution of Christians in the fourth century as the beginning of a new relationship between church and state which lasted down to the modern era.  However, not all Christians lived in the Roman empire, and many in fact lived in modern Iran, Iraq and other regions of Rome’s bitter political rival, the Persian empire. When the Roman state became Christian in the mid-fourth century, the formerly-tolerant Persian government began to persecute the Church in its own realm.  In this atmosphere of persecution and uncertainty, a Christian writer known as Aphrahat “the Persian Sage” produced a series of twenty -three homilies on various themes which have survived and are known as “Demonstrations.”

The  Fourth Demonstration concerns prayer, and is the earliest Christian treatise on the subject that is not primarily a commentary on the Lord’s Prayer.  In this brief but profound work, Aphrahat has much to say about the proper approach to liturgical prayer,  as is clear from the opening sentence:

“Purity of heart constitutes prayer more than do all the prayers that are uttered out aloud, and silence united to a mind that is sincere is better than the loud voice of someone crying out.”

Aphrahat of course is not saying that vocal prayer is unimportant or inappropriate, but rather that singing hymns or saying responses in itself does not constitute true liturgical prayer. The words we say must be united to what spiritual writers call “mind and heart” for them to become real prayers.  Aphrahat’s comment on the importance of silence is also noteworthy.  Lectors, cantors and celebrants must take special care to ensure that moments of reflective silence are prominent in the Eucharist.  Incidental chatter and unnecessary explanations and announcements on the one hand, as well as rushing from one part of the Mass to the next, can destroy the moments of silence so essential for true prayer. Such moments of liturgical silence prepare us “to listen to every word with discerning, and catch hold of its meaning.”

Prayer is an offering, and it must never be forgotten that it is offered in the presence of God, who sees through all pretensions. Aphrahat takes us all the way back to the prayer of Abel the Just, whose offering was acceptable to God because of his purity of heart.  Turning to Christ, Aphrahat stresses the communal or social aspects of prayer as epitomized in  Matthew 5: 23-24,  where Jesus admonishes that you must first be reconciled with your brothers and sisters before approaching the altar of God.  This reconciliation has two aspects.  First of all, it involves seeking forgiveness for one’s own transgressions. What is perhaps more difficult is the forgiveness of others, but as Aphrahat teaches, if you do not forgive, your offering is in vain.

Aphrahat insists upon a crucial connection between true prayer and love of neighbor .   The requirements of liturgical prayer, important as they are, must never be used as an excuse to avoid helping anyone truly in need of it, for authentic prayer in the end consists in a pure love of God that manifests itself in an unfeigned service to our fellow human beings:

 

“Thus you must forgive your debtor before your prayer; only after that, pray: when you pray, your prayer will thus go up before God on high, and it is not left on earth…Give rest to the weary, visit the sick, make provision for the poor: this is indeed prayer…Prayer is beautiful, and its works are fair; prayer is heard when forgiveness is to be found in it, prayer is beloved when it is pure of every guile, prayer is powerful when the power of God is made effective in it.  I have written to you, my beloved, to the effect that a person should do the will of God, and that constitutes prayer.”

 

*All quotations taken from Aphrahat ˜Demonstration on Prayerˇ Found in ˜The Syriac Fathers on Prayer and the Spiritual Life. Edited and Translated by Sebastian Brock.  Cistercian Publications. 1987.

 

Memories on this feast of Bernard

I spent a very eventful junior year abroad at Oxford University, and one of the immediate effects of that heady time was my decision to become a Jesuit. Thus when I returned home to Staten Island, I took a volunteer job answering the phones at the lovely Mount Manresa, a Jesuit-run retreat house a few miles from my home. It was the oldest lay retreat house in the the United States, and a lovely oasis of trees and quiet places not far from the Verrazano Bridge. Sadly, it is now closed, but that summer I roamed its grounds, and prayed in its warm but lovely chapel, surrounded by images of Jesuit saints, a tangible sense of holiness and simplicity.

As part of my time there, I underwent a short retreat by a resident Jesuit, who gave me some Psalms to read and pray over. Today I suddenly recalled that today, August 20th, the feast of St Bernard, back in that summer of 1985, I sat on a bench to pray over the Psalms, and had some fairly serious experiences of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Somewhat shaken, I went and told Fr. Maher, expecting him to be dismissive. Instead he became very quiet, and looked at me very seriously, and said how this was indeed very real what I experienced, and although my own tendencies, due to the intensity of it, would be to rationalize and explain it away, and in fact dismiss it because otherwise it would have so many serious implications for the spiritual life and how the world really is, I should never give in to that. He was very wise and experienced, and of course correct.

As time passed I discerned that the Jesuit vocation was not for me, but I have never forgotten that day, and his words to me, or my time on that bench. I have ever since always associated those memories and those perceptions with the feast of St Bernard of Clairvaux, the day on which they happened, the day the Church remembers one of its greatest mystical theologians. Each year like today I am reminded that no matter what conspires to dampen the fires of our inner life and the work of the Spirit within us, like Bernard, we must never give in and let these forces distract us from our moorings as children in the image and likeness of God, as temples of that same Holy Spirit.

El Greco’s St Bernard of Clairvaux.

Passiontide Icelandic Style

As most of you know by now, I have a deep interest in Scandinavian Christianity. When it comes to Iceland, a remote branch of medieval and then Lutheran Christendom but nonetheless marked by a very ancient and profound literary culture, the Passion hymns of the seventeenth century poet and clergyman Hallgrímur Péturrson (1614-1674) are considered national treasures.

 

Hallgrímur spent most of his adult life as a parish priest in rural Iceland, ministering to his people. His last few years saw him stricken by disease and much suffering. But before that, shaped as he was by the already profound traditions of Lutheran hymnody as expressed in Germany and Denmark, he wrote many hymns, and the most important and those with a permanent impact on his land and culture were 50 hymns devoted to the Passion of Christ, from the garden of Gethsemane to His death. They are profound in their poetic expression, but also in their call to emulate and imitate Christ, and to grow spiritually from the consideration of the Passion.  These hymns have become an integral part of Icelandic culture, and still are played, one each night, on Icelandic National Radio the 50 days leading up to Easter. His place in the liturgical, poetic and cultural fabric of his people is symbolized by the great church in Reykjavik, perhaps the city’s most notable landmark, dedicated to his memory.

These hymns have been made available in a new translation and study by Michael Fell. His book is an excellent presentation and analysis of the hymns, and an excellent introduction to the rich and perhaps unexpected Baroque religious culture of Iceland. I highly recommend it.

 

Each hymn is ultimately a call to recollection, repentance and transformation in following Christ. It is not easy to pick a small sample, but the following passage from Hymn 24 for me gets to the heart of what Passiontide and Holy Week is all about, namely the putting aside of conceits and excuses, and the chance once again to follow Christ in simplicity, honesty and humility:

“Dare not bring before thy God
Hypocrisy’s oblation.
Stand in His holy place unshod
With humble adoration.
Bow before Him both heart and knee,
Confess His grace thine only plea,
And shun all ostentation.”

Passion Hymn 24.

St Mary’s Opening year sermon 2017

My Sermon, Opening Service St Mary’s College, St Andrews   September 2017

It is a pleasure to be here with you at this opening of a new academic year, in this ancient and sacred place, a time of new beginnings and opportunities. Welcome to all of you who are new here, to St Mary’s and the university, embarking on an exciting adventure. It is also a time for those of us returning to renew old friendships and for many, the first day of what will become very important friendships and relationships of all kinds. Also, I would say, it is a time to set out for ourselves our goals and aspirations for our personal lives, and I hope and urge you today that this should involve ways of thinking about what we hope to gain from our studies, and how do our studies relate to our lives as a whole, including our spiritual lives, the life of our souls.

Our first reading today gives us an idea, the beginnings of a program of our course of life. It puts before our eyes the great Solomon, who though by no means perfect in his later life choices, and all too human, mistakes and all, is remembered for how he responded to God when asked a very important question. As we just heard, Solomon very famously when offered his choice of gifts from God, asks for the gift of Wisdom, and in so doing sets up a model of what all those in responsibility should ask for and aspire to.

What is Wisdom? This is a big question!

While it often depends on knowledge, it is not merely the same as that. Computers can contain limitless knowledge, but they are not wise. Memorizing math tables, historical dates, or sports statistics, can give us a type of knowledge, but in itself is not wisdom. Experience when added to knowledge can bring a certain sort of wisdom, but only if we actually heed it and learn from it. Learning the Creeds and catechisms, memorizing the names of all the books of the Bible and even being able to quote from them, does not in itself make us wise. Medieval thinkers spent much time explaining the difference between mere knowledge of a type, and true wisdom. We certainly could turn to many of the world’s great religions, to the Greeks and Romans, to Buddhism and Taoism, to Islam and Hinduism, to tales of Odin in Norse mythology and the sages of Native Americans, for good definitions of Wisdom, and how to make our way in the world and avoid foolishness.

But what about our friend Solomon? According to King Solomon, as tradition records it in the biblical Wisdom literature, basically wisdom is gained from God, “For the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding” Proverbs 2:6. And through God’s wise aide, one can have a better life, marked by good conduct: “He holds success in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones” Proverbs 2:7-8. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” Proverbs 3:5-6.

There are various verses in Proverbs that contain parallels of what God loves, which is wise, and what God does not love, which is foolish. For example in the area of good and bad behaviour Proverbs states, “The way of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord, But He loves him who pursues righteousness (Proverbs 15:9). In relation to fairness and business it is stated that, “A false balance is an abomination to the Lord, But a just weight is His delight” (Proverbs 11:1; cf. 20:10,23). On the truth it is said, “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, But those who deal faithfully are His delight” (12:22; cf. 6:17,19). These are a few examples of what, according to Solomon, or those who passed down his teachings, are good and wise in the eyes of God, or bad and foolish, and in doing these good and wise things, one becomes closer to God by living in an honorable and kind manner.

And famously in the book of Ecclesiastes, the sage concludes that all life’s pleasures and riches, and even wisdom, mean nothing if there is no relationship with God.

The Epistle of James is often said to be the New Testament version of the book of Proverbs. It reiterates Proverbs message of wisdom coming from God by stating, “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” James 1:5. James also explains how wisdom helps one acquire other forms of virtue, “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.” James 3:17. In addition, James focuses on using this God-given wisdom to perform acts of service to the less fortunate. So the fruits of wisdom are very desirable, and should show themselves in our own behavior, including how we treat others.

Fair enough, but where does this relationship with God come from? How do we find it in our lives?

If we seek to be truly wise, while doing so, never cease to pray for it.; take your studies seriously; find good mentors, among the staff and your friends, among pastors, and among great and perennial books. There are so many voices now, especially with the internet. It becomes crucially important to pray for discernment to evaluate what you are hearing and learning, and how to apply it to questions that matter for you and the churches and the world.

I have found much wisdom in the life and teaching of a great monk Benedict of Nursia, the author of a rule for monastic life that would have a profound effect on the church and all of western culture. He knew a few things about cultivating wisdom. He knew that it came with a balance of prayer with others, or liturgy; prayerful reading of the Scriptures, meditating on them and making them our own; and useful work and wholesome recreations. There is much wisdom in such a balance for all of us, whether students or staff, and I will come back to this in a few minutes.

St Benedict in his famous rule exhorts us to listen to the words of the master, and we should do that. But we also must be open to wisdom when it comes from unexpected places, as this same Benedict cautions us that we must listen even to the voices of those who are junior in the monastery. Our staff must be open to the voices of their students, and perhaps, dare I say it, even be prepared to find wisdom there!

Most importantly, Benedict ultimately exhorts us that we must seek wisdom in Scripture, as he puts it: what word of the NT and OT is not full of guidance for life. To turn knowledge of Scripture into wisdom, we must first have the knowledge. But that is not enough! For then it must be joined with humility, and most all charity. A wise teacher I admire greatly was Walter Hilton, a great English spiritual teacher of the 14^th century; he was an Augustinian canon, who lived a form of religious life very similar to the canons who lived and worked and prayed in St Andrews cathedral a few hundred feet from us right now. Walter Hilton was known as a great spiritual advisor, and, following the teachings of St Paul, he had this to say about the way knowledge of Scripture becomes wisdom when approached in the right Spirit, in prayerful attentiveness to the grace of God :

“Learned men and great scholars have devoted great effort and prolonged study to the Holy Scriptures… employing the gifts which God gives to every person who has the use of reason. This knowledge is good … but it does not bring with it any spiritual experience of God, for these graces are granted only to those who have a great love for Him. This fountain of love issues from our Lord alone, and no stranger may approach it. But knowledge of this kind is common to good and bad alike, since it can be acquired without love, … and men of a worldly life are sometimes more knowledgeable than many true Christians although they do not possess this love. St. Paul describes this kind of knowledge: “If I had full knowledge of all things and knew all secrets, but had no love, I should be nothing.” … Some people who possess this knowledge become proud and misuse it in order to increase their personal reputation, worldly rank, honours and riches, when they should use it humbly to the praise of God and for the benefit of their fellow Christians in true charity… St. Paul says of this kind of knowledge: “Knowledge by itself stirs the heart with pride, but united to love it turns to edification.” By itself this knowledge is like water, tasteless and cold. But if those who have it will offer it humbly to our Lord and ask for His grace, He will turn the water into wine with His blessing.”

 

Walter Hilton 

For the Christian ultimately, knowledge joined to humility and charity becomes wisdom when it is sought from Christ, centered in Christ, and lived in obedience to how Christ wants us to live, overflowing and transforming our relationships with those around us, our neighbors.. Over 300 years ago, a New England poet and pastor, Reverend Edward Taylor, served for decades in what was then the wilderness of the Connecticut River Valley in Westfield, Mass. He wrote many poems on the Eucharist and saving power of Christ, drawing deeply not only on his own Reformed and Calvinist context, but on themes that had deep roots back through the middle ages and into the Church Fathers.. In one sermon given to his frontier congregation he spoke of wisdom this way, using homely images but also the image of the fountain which we just saw in Walter Hilton:

“There is a natural desire of Wisdom as an Essential Property of the Rational Nature…And in great desires of these Treasures of Wisdom betake yourselves to Christ to partake of them. Where should the hungry man go for good but to the Cooks shop? Where should the thirsty go for water except to the Fountain? No man will let his bucket down into an empty well if he be aware of it. No man will seek riches in a beggars cottage. He that would be wealthy must trade in matters profitable. So if thou wouldst have spiritual treasures, trade with Christ. Wouldst thou have Heavenly Wisdom? Go to Christ for it.”

Let us then go to Christ, who is Love and who indeed is Wisdom incarnate. And what today did Wisdom tell us, in the Gospel, as the Eastern Orthodox liturgy proclaims, before the Gospel is read, “Wisdom! attend!!”

Our gospel reading today, the words of Wisdom incarnate, delivers to us the warning against rash judgment of others, reminds us of the need to practice self awareness of our own faults, and to concentrate on those, rather than spending our time and energy complaining about what is wrong with everyone around us.

Instead, we are invited and indeed exhorted to assume a posture of graciousness, and hospitality; This does not mean a suspension of common sense and a listless, passive acceptance of evil. But what it does call for is a realization of the need to treat others with compassion and understanding, much as we would like others to treat us. This is Wisdom speaking, this is the Golden Rule, the foundation upon which we must build our lives in community,. This is wisdom, the summation of the Law and the Prophets; This, taken even further and joined with charity and forgiveness, is what Jesus commands us to do, instructs us on how to behave if we expect our own prayers to be heard, if we expect our own faults to be forgiven, and to make any advance in the spiritual life. To be wise we must indeed begin with the starting point of the Golden Rule, enlarged and transformed and deepened by the power of the Holy Spirit.

This can be hard, especially with all of the stresses of life. It is hard to keep ourselves centered in Christ, to keep our spiritual equilibrium. We must take steps, at all times asking God’s help and grace, to have a life organized in such a way that allows us to make room to cultivate authentic wisdom, to allow us to see God in ourselves, in our neighbor, and in our work and studies. Let me end today by giving a few suggestions on how to do this, which are not original to me, but instead take us deeply into the tradition for guidance, back to Benedict whom I mentioned before.

For Benedict, a life centered on God, involved being attentive to our own spiritual needs and the needs of those around us. He truly felt that at the heart of spiritual life and wisdom was the profound idea that we need to respect and listen to others in our spiritual lives, particularly those with more experience. We have to sincerely believe that what other people have to say can really help us. As the gospel tells us today, we do not sit in constant judgment on others, eager and willing to pounce on their words and criticize them; but rather we should listen to them with an attentive regard, allowing the Holy Spirit to work on us through their words, and become a part of our own process of spiritual growth and discernment, in other words to help us grow in true wisdom.

Benedict suggested a way of dividing the day up that allows us to have spiritual balance, to keep us from getting burned out and also to keep us from neglecting what is important. First of all we must make time in our week to pray with others, for the liturgy and common prayer. This includes making sure that every day, not just on Sunday, we make at least some time, preferably the morning and evening, to offer up our prayers to God, in communion with those doing so throughout the world. Secondly, we must make at least a small amount of time for Spiritual reading, a prayerful reading of Scripture or some other worthy text. This ensures we are not just staring at ourselves, but rather attentively listening to God speak to us through his Word. This will renew and nourish us. As one church father put it, “If a person wants to be in God’s company, he must pray regularly and read regularly. When we pray we talk to God; when we read. God talks to us. All spiritual growth comes from reading and reflection; By reading we learn what we did not know; by reflection we retain what we have learned.”

And finally, and not least, there is our work. We all have jobs and responsibilities, including the work of being a student and teaching and research and administration. We all must do our work, and the important thing is that this work be done in a sprit of offering it as a gift to God. Benedict says we must begin all our work with a prayer, not a bad practice for us to emulate. Whatever our work is, if done in the proper spirit, like reading and praying and liturgy, it becomes a type of prayer. In this way our work, our tasks for the day are not something that are keeping us from doing something else, but are themselves the stuff of holiness, opportunities to grow in love of God and neighbor, to be holy, to be truly wise. And to be better at this, we must be sure to balance our work with healthy recreations.

So ask for God’s help in the coming year to balance all of these needs, to find meaning in our work, studies, and relationships, to find God and Christ in all we do and aspire to, and in this way to pursue the wisdom that really matters. And as we strive to do this together, we can join each day in the prayer of St Benedict, “let us prefer nothing whatsoever to Christ, and may he lead us to everlasting life.” Amen.

Ere I sleep…

It can be hard to wind down before sleep. Even with the best of intentions, the events of the day, both good and bad and simply complex, often refuse to let our minds let go. And sometimes when we wake up in the middle of the night, it is amazing how our brain is already working, making it hard to fall back asleep. I am afraid the internet does not help at times, as it is always there. Indeed, it never sleeps.

I think it is helpful to pray before sleep, and at those times when sleep eludes us. The Church’s tradition provides many helpful words to help. One of the most beautiful is a hymn by the saintly and learned Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells who passed away in 1711.

 

For those of you who do not know it, and for those who do but may have forgotten it, I present it here as a gift to us all of praise, confession, prayer and peace.

All praise to thee, my God, this night,

for all the blessings of the light:

keep me, O keep me, King of kings,

beneath thine own almighty wings.

 

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,

the ill that I this day have done;

that with the world, myself, and thee,

I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

 

O may my soul on thee repose,

and with sweet sleep mine eyelids close;

sleep that shall me more vigorous make

to serve my God when I awake.

 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;

praise him, all creatures here below;

praise him above, ye heavenly host:

praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

 

 

Veni Creator Spiritus

As I have remarked before in this blog, the nature of the Tradition is that beauty begets more beauty and creativity inspires more creativity. One great example of this is the great ninth century hymn Veni Creator Spiritus attributed to the Benedictine monk and theologian Rabanus Maurus. This lovely poem invoking the coming and gifts of the Holy Spirit has always been associated in the Roman and Anglican traditions with the great feast of Pentecost, as well as any occasion, such as consecrations of bishops, confirmations, and even coronations of monarchs, where the invocation of the Holy Spirit’s inspiration is especially desired. This wonderful hymn has been translated by many over the centuries, and has thus made its way into the pews in countless churches of many traditions.

One of my favourite translations is by the great poet John Dryden, a perfect example of a magnificent piece of liturgical art and imagery inspiring great art, in turn charged with its own spiritual energy and power. It is hard to think of a better way to spend Ascensiontide then in the company of Rabanus Maurus and John Dryden a few minutes each day, two classics for the price of one, in hopeful and prayerful preparation for the great feast of Pentecost.

Veni Creator Spiritus     attributed to Rabanus Maurus (9th century)

Translated in PARAPHRASE  by  John Dryden

Creator Spirit, by whose aid
The World’s Foundations first were laid,
Come visit ev’ry pious Mind;
Come pour thy Joys on Human Kind:
From Sin, and Sorrow set us free;
And make thy Temples worthy Thee.

O, Source of uncreated Light,
The Father’s promis’d Paraclite!
Thrice Holy Fount, thrice Holy Fire,
Our Hearts with Heav’nly Love inspire;
Come, and thy Sacred Unction bring
To Sanctifie us, while we sing!

Plenteous of Grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sev’n-fold Energy!
Thou strength of his Almighty Hand,
Whose Pow’r does Heav’n and Earth command:
Proceeding Spirit, our Defence,
Who do’st the Gift of Tongues dispence,
And crown’st thy Gift, with Eloquence!

Refine and purge our Earthly Parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our Hearts!
Our Frailties help, our Vice controul;
Submit the Senses to the Soul;
And when Rebellious they are grown,
Then, lay thy hand, and hold ’em down.

Chace from our Minds th’ Infernal Foe;
And peace, the fruit of Love, bestow:
And, lest our Feet shou’d step astray,
Protect, and guide us in the way.

Make us Eternal Truths receive,
And practise, all that we believe:
Give us thy Self, that we may see
The Father and the Son, by thee.

Immortal Honour, endless Fame
Attend th’ Almighty Father’s name:
The Saviour Son, be glorify’d,
Who for lost Man’s Redemption dy’d;
And equal Adoration be
Eternal Paraclete, to thee.

The Mystery of Love

Recently my wife Sabine and I had the pleasure of being part of a student retreat to Pluscarden abbey in the Scottish highlands. It was a lovely weekend, full of beautiful liturgy, walks, and fellowship, a wonderful time of renewal. After a nice long walk in the wooded hills, Sabine and I spent some time in the abbey gift shop, which contained lots of wonderful books, cards and religious items. There was one shelf where they were selling old used books, and of course that attracted my attention! Sometimes when looking for spiritual reading, it is nice to see where the Spirit leads you, and in this case I picked up a volume by Basil Hume, an English Benedictine monk and then Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster in the last part of the twentieth century. I had once heard him speak back in 1985, and have always enjoyed his gentleness and transparent holiness.

Basil Hume

 

This book, entitled The Mystery of Love, is a series of informal, almost conversational reflections on the spiritual life, published posthumously under the editorial care of a close friend. In the preface is recounted a conversation Cardinal Hume had with his friend shortly before his death about the profound importance of the “Our Father”, or Lord’s Prayer:

“It’s only now that I begin to glimpse how everything we need is contained right there in the Lord’s own prayer.” He then prayed the opening three sentences of the Our Father, adding each time a tiny commentary of his own: 

Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be Thy name: to sing the praises of God, it is for that for which we were made, and it is that which will be for all eternity, our greatest joy.

Thy Kingdom come: the Gospel values of Jesus—justice, love and peace—embraced throughout the world and in all their fullness.

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven: that is the the only thing which really matters. What God wants for us is what is best for us.”

 

Simple and beautiful. When I read these profound words, I knew I had found my reading for Lent. I hope God draws you to pick some good and inspiring reading for Lent, wherever you are, as He did for me in the quiet of a monastic bookshop in the Scottish highlands.

 

 

 

 

Thoughts Matter

One of the most common problems that beset those who try to pray is the endless cycle of unwanted thoughts that rise up and fill and dominate our consciousness. These distractions can cover a distressingly wide range, everything from food, sports and television ads, to our grocery list, meetings at work, or the email we know is waiting to be answered. Sometimes our thoughts are just images of things that are rather basic and simple, harmless in themselves but distractions from the business at hand. Other times they are much more serious, such as anger at past grievances, replayed on what can seem to be an endless conveyor belt before our mental vision.

Many of the great religious traditions, including the ancient Christian monastic teachers, such as Evagrios Ponticus and John Cassian, can teach us much about how to control these thoughts and passions which quite frankly can take over our minds and keep us from focusing on God, especially at times when we need to focus on God the most. One of the best and most helpful introductions to this subject I have found are a series of books by a Benedictine sister named Mary Margaret “Meg” Funk. Sister Meg, a Benedictine of Our Lady of Grace monastery in Indiana, was for many years the director of the Monastic Interreligious Dialogue Board, and is a wonderful speaker whom I once had the pleasure to hear some years ago. Her writings on the spiritual life combine a lively prose style and real, substantive content. She introduces the reader to the depths of her own Christian monastic way of life, interwoven with insights from many other traditions.

Sr. Mary Margaret Funk, OSB

I would recommend the place to start is with her volume Thoughts Matter. In it she introduces the reader to the ancient monastic wisdom of John Cassian (5th century), and his profound and helpful teaching on the ways to deal with the problem of how our unwanted and often harmful thoughts and obsessions can derail us in times of prayer and meditation, and indeed whenever we try to become more serious about the spiritual life. This accessible book can guide one into the paths of attentiveness, and the beginnings of the realization that we as human beings are more than the seemingly uncontrollable thoughts that often plague and distract us.

Rejoice, Tabernacle of God the Word

Some years ago when I was a doctoral student at Cornell University in upstate New York, needing a break I drove several hours to visit the Russian Orthodox monastery of the Holy Trinity in Jordanville, NY. I had begun to develop a deep appreciation for Russian spirituality ever since reading Russian Mystics by Sergius Bolshakoff, with its marvelous preface by Thomas Merton. I enjoyed the beauty of the church and grounds, and then spent time in their large shop.

Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville, NY

Among the books and icons was a little pamphlet with a photo of a lovely icon of the Virgin and Child. In it was the text of the great prayer known as the Akathist to Our Most Holy Lady, Mary the Mother of God. An “akathist” refers to any prayer recited or sung standing, but this particular one is the most famous of all in the Byzantine tradition. I began to use it myself in private devotion. In exuberant and rich phraseology, it guides the worshipper through the story from the Annunciation through the familiar events of the Infancy Narratives, presenting in its way an incomparable theological reflection on the meaning of these events. Each section of the hymn, known as a Kontakion and Oikos, contain endless food for devotion, as in this example:

Kontakion 12

When the Absolver of all mankind desired to blot out ancient debts, of His Own will He came to dwell among those who had fallen from His Grace; and having torn up the handwriting of their sins, He heareth this from all: Alleluia!

Oikos 12

While singing to thine Offspring, we all praise thee as a living temple, O Theotokos; for the Lord Who holdeth all things in His hand dwelt in thy womb, and He sanctified and glorified thee, and taught all to cry to thee:

Rejoice, tabernacle of God the Word: Rejoice, saint greater than the saints! Rejoice, ark gilded by the Spirit: Rejoice, inexhaustible treasury of life! Rejoice, precious diadem of pious kings: Rejoice, venerable boast of reverent priests! Rejoice, unshakable fortress of the Church: Rejoice, inviolable wall of the kingdom! Rejoice, thou through whom victories are obtained: Rejoice, thou through whom foes fall prostrate! Rejoice, healing of my flesh: Rejoice, salvation of my soul! Rejoice, O Bride Unwedded!

Rejoice, O Bride Unwedded!

Despite what retailers might say, this feast of the Nativity is the beginning of the Christmas season, not the end! Might I suggest that one way to keep this season of Christmastide is to pray this great hymn every day, or parts of it each day? Like the beloved Litany of Loreto, more familiar to Catholics in the western tradition, it provides profound and endless depths for prayerful reflection. But if this ancient hymn is new to you, let me suggest on this Christmas morn it can provide fresh perspectives on stories that can grow in some ways too familiar. It can guide us through ancient but joyful pathways to new appreciation of how the splendid variety of the Christian tradition can renew the hearts at Christmas and help us approach the Mysteries with a childlike wonder.