The Pearl of Great Price

In the Prologue of the book titled, ‘Saint Bruno the Carthusian’ by André Ravier, S. J., is a description of how it all began for Saint Bruno and his companions; how it all began for the Carthusian Order. Here is that story.

On a June morning in 1084, about the time of the feast of Saint John the Baptist, a small, serious-looking group of poorly clothed travellers left the Bishop’s house in Grenoble, led by young Bishop Hugh. They headed north and took the road to Sappey. After passing the last houses of the town they entered the great forest, cleared the Palaquit Pass, and reached the Porte Pass at an altitude of 4,000 feet (1,219 metres). From the pass they descended to the village of Saint-Pierre-de-Chartreuse. But, shortly before they reached Saint-Pierre, they turned left into the Valley of Guiers-Mort. This very narrow valley grew narrower little by little until it was enclosed between two steep cliffs. Only the stream and the path found an exit to the west.

The ‘Gateway’ as this valley was called, was the sole entry from the south. A little beyond that, to the right, an oblong valley called the Wilderness of Chartreuse extended north-northeast about 3 miles (4.8 kilometres). Its lowest point was 2,350 feet (716 metres) above sea level, and the highest was 3,450 feet (1,052 metres). It was nearly enclosed on all sides by towering mountains which, at the Grand Som, reached an altitude of 6,000 feet (1829 metres). Except for the gateway of the valley, there was only one other way to enter. That was by La Ruchère Pass (4,250 feet or 1295 metres) toward the northwest, though the village of La Ruchère itself was accessible only by the dangerous route of the Frou, over two poor paths that were long, difficult, and very risky: one coming from Saint-Laurent of the Wilderness in the west (today called Saint-Laurent-du-Pont), the other from Saint-Pierre d’Entremont in the north. The latter went through the forest of Eparres, the home of wild animals, and up over the Bovinant Pass to an altitude of 5,000 feet (1524 metres). In this wilderness the travellers boldly summoned up their strength at the gateway of the valley and, since they were looking for the wildest place in this wild place, they climbed to the farthest point toward the north, where the wilderness terminated in a gorge that was enclosed by mountains so high that during most of the year the sun scarcely penetrated it. Amid the fallen rocks the strangely shaped trees still reached for the sky, that at least their tops might gain the open air, light, and warmth. Then the little band stopped. They had arrived. Bishop Hugh told his companions they should build their huts here and make their dream of a hermitage a reality. Taking leave of his companions, he went back down to Grenoble with his personal escort.

Seven men stayed in the Wilderness: Master Bruno, the former chancellor and canon of the Church of Rheims; Master Landuino from Lucca in Tuscany, a renowned theologian; Stephen of Bourg and Stephen of Dié, both canons of Saint-Ruf; Hugh, ‘whom they called the chaplain because he was the only one of them who functioned as a priest’ (Guigo, Vita S. Hugonis), and two ‘laymen’, Andrew and Guérin, who were lay brothers. These seven had decided to lead an eremitical life in common, and for some time they had been looking for a suitable place to carry out their project. Prompted by the Spirit and knowing surely how well how forests in the Dauphiné were suitable for solitude, Bruno came to Hugh, bishop of Grenoble, to ask for shelter and advice. And Hugh, inspired by a wonderful dream, chose the Wilderness of Chartreuse for Bruno and his companions.

Human wisdom would say the selection was foolish. The harsh climate with heavy snowfalls; the poor soil that required so much labour to provide even meagre nourishment for its inhabitants; the ruggedness of the terrain that made cultivation difficult in the forest; the inaccessibility of the place during a considerable part of the year, so that there was no hope of obtaining help quickly should there be an emergency or fire or illness. Everything was against establishing any sort of permanent dwelling for human beings in the Wilderness of Chartreuse, and especially in this northern end of it. Several times events demonstrated that these fears were well founded. On Saturday, 30 January 1132, an enormous avalanche fell upon all the cells except one and killed six hermits and one novice. They were compelled to go back a mile and a half (2.4 kilometres) toward the south from the end of the Wilderness, where La Grande Chartreuse is located now.

Bruno was more than fifty years old. Several of his companions, notably Landuino, were no longer young. What secret desire impelled them to brave this solitude, whose severity Guigo (the fifth prior of Chartreuse), in his ‘Customs’ (Consuetudines) alludes to twice? What discovery, what pearl of great price could make them live ‘for a long time amid so much snow and such dreadful cold’? (Consuetudines XXVIII).

The mystery of vocation, by which God calls certain people to a purely contemplative life and all-embracing love; the mystery of hidden lives of self-effacement (as it is commonly regarded) with Christ Who effaced Himself; the mystery of the prayer of Christ in the wilderness during the nights of His public life and at Gethsemane, the prayer of Christ that continues in certain privileged souls at every period in the history of the Church; the mystery of being solitary while remaining present to the world, of silence and the light of the Gospel, simplicity, and the glory of God.

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

The painting depicts Saint Bruno refusing the archbishopric of Reggio of Calabria. These are the brush strokes of the mid-sixteenth to early seventeenth century Italian painter, Vincenzo Carducci. It ties into this weekend's Gospel theme of renouncing all for Jesus.

First Reading, Wisdom 9:13-18b
In this Reading the roadway is being paved which will eventually lead to the revelation that the Holy Spirit is the Third Person in the Blessed Trinity. How much is known about God? What can we expect from Him? What are His plans for each of us? There are many questions concerning God. Throughout the course of salvation history some of those answers have already been divulged by God Whose perfect Wisdom willed to clothe Himself in flesh and unveil that He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; ‘and thus were the paths of those on earth made straight’. ‘The corruptible body burdens the soul’ and certainly the mind can be considered part of the body. This is the classic battle that occurs within each of us. Even the desire to know more about God than what His infallible Will has already revealed is a battle that is of the flesh -- not the soul. The flesh burdens itself with labour, ailments, curiosity or the need to know as well as other worries and anxieties while the soul is burdened because of its longing to rest forever in the Arms its Creator. In other words, for the soul, God is all that matters. As Christians, we hope to achieve at least a partial truce so that the body is more in harmony with the soul. At the resurrection, the body and soul will be in perfect harmony because a glorified body will be joined with the soul and the battle will forever cease.

Second Reading, Philemon 9b-10, 12-17
Saint Paul met and by the power of the Holy Spirit converted Onesimus to Christianity while imprisoned. Onesimus was a slave who had run away from his master, Philemon, a Christian of Colossae. Paul convinced Onesimus to return to Philemon with this letter hoping to minimize or eliminate his probable punishment for desertion. According to the law of that time Onesimus could possibly face crucifixion. Paul appeals to Philemon's charity which Paul must have previously witnessed first hand. Paul does seem to hint, however, that as an apostle of Christ, he has the right to force a charitable attitude towards Onesimus but he doesn't wish to do that if it is not necessary; Paul would rather rely on the decency of Philemon. It would seem that Paul is suggesting that Philemon's temporary loss of Onesimus was the result of Divine Providence. Now the door has been opened to Philemon to receive Onesimus back as a brother instead of a slave. This Reading appeals to us as Christians to remind us that we're all brothers and sisters in the Lord, called to serve one another with a charitable heart.

Gospel, Luke 14:25-33
Harsh words from our Saviour would seem to be quite common in the ‘Journey Narrative’. Jesus is talking about hating those who are closest to us. There's really no way to tip-toe around this because the ancient languages translate to mean exactly that. This is definitely an eye opener and something that should indeed attract attention because true discipleship is serious business. First of all, Christians believe that Jesus is God and God is Love and Love is incapable of hating; nor would He ever command His followers to hate anyone else. Hate is a human emotion, though, and whenever it rears its ugly head, it should only be directed at sin, that is, hate the sin but love the sinner. When examining these shocking words from our Redeemer, and comparing it to the parable He uses in this Gospel, it becomes clearer what Jesus is talking about. Christ is looking for complete self-abandonment from His followers. Counting the cost is the moral of the parable. What is the cost of walking away from true discipleship? The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that Christ is the Centre of all Christian life; and the bond with Him takes precedence over all other bonds, familial or social (cf. CCC 1618). If Christians are to follow the Model and His devotion to the Kingdom of God, detachment which grows out of complete self-surrender is vital. Christ is very clear about what His disciples’ disposition must be in order to properly follow Him. As disciples, we must ask ourselves if we fit Christ's qualifications for discipleship; and if we don't, are we willing to do what it takes to make the cut? The intention of the heart is very important. As sinful human beings, more than likely all of us will from time-to-time fail miserably at our efforts of complete self-abandonment and total devotion to our Lord. But when we fail, is it because we fearfully abandoned our heart's desire or is it because our hearts were never really in it? The former requires penance while the latter not only requires penance but a major re-evaluation of what's really important. It's impossible to be dealing with matters of God and not be dealing with Love. In a strange twist, hate as it is used in this Gospel can be adequately substituted with love. Love for parents, spouse, children, friends and each other demands a great deal of sacrifice and self-abandonment. True love always puts the needs of others before our own; and when it is done for others, it is done for Christ.

Preparing a Pathway to Contemplate the Substance of Eternity

On this feast of Saint Gregory the Great, at Matins the Carthusians listened to a lengthy reading from ‘Moralia in Iob’ written by this day’s honoured saint. Here is a piece of what was proclaimed in the hallowed Charterhouses.

The human soul, because of the sin of the first of mankind was banished from the joys of paradise, lost the light of the invisible, and poured itself out entirely in the love of the visible, and was darkened to interior contemplation, in proportion as it was dissipated without, to the deformity of itself. From there it comes to pass that it knows nothing, saving the things that it acquaints itself with by the palpable touch, so to say, of the bodily eyes. For man, who, had he been willing to have kept the commandments, would even in his flesh have been a spiritual being, but by sinning was rendered even in carnal soul, so as to imagine such things only as he derives to the soul through the images of bodily substances. For the body is the property of heaven, earth, water, animals, and all the visible things, which he unceasingly beholds; and while the delighted mind wholly precipitates itself into these, it loses the fineness of the inward sense; and whereas it is now no longer able to erect itself to things on High, it willingly lies prostrate in its weakness in things below.

But when with marvellous efforts it strives to rise up from material things, it is great indeed, if the soul, thrusting aside the bodily form, be brought to the knowledge of itself, so as to think of itself without a bodily figure, and by thus thinking of itself to prepare itself a pathway to contemplate the substance of Eternity. Now in this way it shows itself to its own eyes as a kind of ladder, whereby in ascending from outward things to pass into itself, it strives to penetrate God. For when the mind abandons bodily images, entering into itself, it mounts up to no mean height; for though the soul is incorporeal, yet because she is incorporated with the body, she is known by that property of hers, which is confined within the local bounds of the flesh. And whereas she forgets things known, acquaints herself with such that are unknown, remembers what has been consigned to oblivion, passes from sadness to joy, finding serenity, she herself shows by her own diversity in herself, how widely she is removed from the Substance of the eternal Essence of God. All these fluctuations indicate that the nature of the soul is very different from the substance of God, always equal to itself, present everywhere, invisible and incomprehensible, and is by the longing mind discerned without seeing, heard without uncertainty, taken in without motion, touched without bodily substance, held without locality.

And so because the mind is carried away into unaccustomed ground, when it pries into the Essence of the divine, it is rightly said: There stood one whose countenance I knew not ~ Job 4:16. And it is well said, it stood still; for every created thing, in that it is made out of nothing, and of itself tends to nothing, has not the property to stand, but to run to an end. But a creature endowed with reason, by this very circumstance, that it is created after the image of its Creator, is fixed that it should not pass into nothing. No irrational creature is ever fixed, but only, so long as, by the service of its appearing, is completing the form and fashion of the universe, it is delayed in passing away. For though heaven and earth abide now and forever, still they are at this present time of themselves hastening on to nothing, yet for the use of those, whom they serve, until they are renewed and recreated in a better state.

To ‘stand’ then is the attribute of the Creator alone, through Whom all things pass away, but Himself never passing away, and in Whom some things are held fast, that they should not pass away. Thus our Saviour, because of the fixed state of His Divine Nature could not be comprehended by the human mind, He showed this to us as it were in passing, by coming to us, by being created, born, died, buried, by rising again, and returning to the heavenly realms. This is well-expressed in the Gospel by the enlightening of the blind man. The Lord heard him screaming as He was passing, but he recovered when He stopped. Jesus passes as a man, but stops according to His Divine Nature which is everywhere. The Gospel states that Jesus, in passing, heard the cries of our blindness, because as a man He has compassion on our misery. But when He stops, He gives sight to the blind, because through His unchanging divinity, He illuminates the darkness of our infirmities. It is well then that, after it has been said: Then a spirit passed before my face but I could not discern the form thereof ~ Job 4:15-16.

The Gift of Faith

What is important above everything else, first and foremost, is faith: faith in the reality of the divine presence in and around us, bringing the acts of our will and mind up to the level of the true life to which Our Lord is calling us. This act of faith, which transforms our destiny from a purely human one to one truly divine, is painful to nature, and calls for a heroism of which we would not be capable had not God already given us the grace to make the initial effort and maintain it. Utterly incapable ourselves of making this first act, we could not do better than say with the father of the sick child: Lord, I do believe; help my unbelief ~ Saint Mark 9:23.

It is faith that gives us the assurance of the divine promises: I will espouse you to Me in faith ~ Hosea 2:20. It is faith that makes us walk in its obscurity in this life: For we walk by faith ~ 2 Corinthians 5:7. From start to finish we shall follow that way, ever on the alert lest we stray from it, enticed all too readily by lights too human, which will quickly leave us disillusioned.

Faith is a strict guide but an infallible one. It knows no concessions, makes no calculations, hesitates before no obstacles. Under the veil of appearances it discerns even now the eternal truth, the victory of Christ: This is the victory which overcomes the world, our faith ~ 1 Saint John 5:4. It hopes despite all the human factors which seek to moderate or destroy its enthusiasm, even as the Apostle says of Abraham: He staggered not by distrust, but was strengthened in faith; he hoped against hope ~ Romans 4:18-20. Faith is at the root of all Our Lord’s teaching; to doubt is to grow weak. O you of little faith, why did you doubt? ~ Saint Matthew 14:31. By faith we are saved. Our Lord even attributed the miracles He wrought for those He cured, to their faith. One tiny spark of faith is enough to transform spiritually the whole world. I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed . . . nothing shall be impossible to you ~ Saint Matthew 17:19.

In short, we must learn to place all our trust in God. These are the words that mark the boundary line which we must cross unhesitatingly and in all simplicity if we would follow Christ.

Faith is the principle of this life; and when divine grace has finished its work in us, it is this same supernatural certitude which, having filled our whole being, will raise therein a temple of love, according to the words of Saint Paul: Faint works by charity ~ Galatians 5:6 and Christ will dwell by faith in your hearts, making known to you the superabundant love of God, which surpasses all knowledge ~ cf. Ephesians 3:17-19.

~ Dom Jean-Baptiste Porion ~

Immersing Oneself in the Resurrection of the Saviour

A Carthusian monk describes intimacy with God as ‘a thirst born within us’, a ‘wound’, and ‘a sharing in the solitude of God’.

True solitude, really worthy of the name, must trace its way back to its source. It is not obedience to an external law, nor a flight from others, nor a world closed on itself, but an encounter with the living God. Solitude is a gratuitous gift, destined to be received in all humility; it is not our own creation, nor that of anyone else. It does not consist in doing anything, nor in trying to become somebody: it is a sharing in the solitude of God. This divine solitude is not, as is sometimes said rather too glibly, His isolation with respect to creatures so different from Him: it is rather the fullness that He finds in the intimacy with His Word, springing from His Bosom, and returning to Him in the Spirit. It is in and through Jesus Christ that we will penetrate into the true solitude which is God.

We recognize Him immediately even if we have never met Him before. There is nothing with which we can compare Him. He reveals Himself truly as perfection itself and takes hold of our hearts at once. A thirst is born within us which nothing can quench except the Absolute. Anyone who has received this wound sets out in quest of the means of reaching the Absolute in so far as it is possible in this life. No doubt the means available will always be inadequate, but we long to do all that is in our power to attain it.

The world is the whole of humanity engaged in the splendid enterprise of co-operating with the action of the Creator. It is man tending towards God across the whole spectrum of His creation. It is religious man who reflects the Face of God in Christ through a thousand forms of apostolate. All of this is good and all reflects God; but none of it is God. Choosing God consequently implies a separation from everything that is not God without even considering all that is involved, and we would not dream of compromising on its exigencies. Even the most wonderful of His creations is nothing compared with Him and He it is Whom we seek.

In the joy of finding God, all decisions become easy, however much we may still be obliged to reach them only after careful consideration. One realizes that there can be no other solution; a great threshold must now be crossed which commits us totally and exclusively to the search of God. We must cast ourselves into the abyss, believe in the Absolute, and cut ourselves off from all that is not God.

Only Jesus, through His death and Resurrection, was able to fulfil this dream completely; to respond with His whole Being to the call of God, to cast Himself onto Him, and to find Himself again fully in His embrace. To choose the Carthusian way is therefore to immerse oneself in a particularly expressive and effective way in the Resurrection of the Saviour. There must be a death, of which we are not always fully conscious at the start, but which gradually extends its effects into all the dimensions of our lives. Yet there is also a birth into a new life which truly brings us into intimacy with God.

Our Lord's Special Friends

Oh, if you had once come into that wine-cellar, out of doubt you would even with a certain thirstiness, more earnestly desire to be there and more often. But no man can enter into it, saving such as desire Me above all things, love Me above all things, esteem Me above all things, and make account of Me as All in all. For he that finds no other consolation but in Me, and not only that, but he that desires affliction so much in this world that he takes himself to be wronged, when I send him any consolation at all, and does as willingly accept it at My Hands, when I leave his soul barren without any comfort, as when I replenish it with My consolation, to whom all joy without Me is a torment, having his mind wholly fixed upon Me, and his desire only bent to serve Me. Such men as these are, I say, My special friends, at whole door do I freely knock, and willingly enter; these are the men to whom I gladly offer myself, and impart my secrets. These men I am wont to visit in sundry days, as seems fitting in My judgment, by stirring them up in such a manner as is agreeable for the devotion and love which they bear Me.

Sometimes I present Myself to the eyes of their souls, wounded, naked, and tormented in all My members, and that they may find greater comfort in the love they bear Me, I show them My Wounds, to the end that they may touch them, bathe them, cleanse them, kiss them, and embrace them. And although their devotion in this behalf may seem ridiculous to worldly men, because they don’t know what it means, yet it is most acceptable to Me, and most profitable to them. For then I begin to forget all the pains which I have suffered, and also all the faults which such a spouse of Mine has committed against Me, and do wholly bend Myself to comfort her with My Spirit, and to lighten her with My grace.

~ Alloquia Iesu Christi ad Animam Fidelem, by Lanspergius ~

The Word of God is All in all

Today on this feast of Saint Augustine, the Carthusians at the hour of Matins listened to this great saint’s words from his ‘Sermo CXX’. Here are those words.

Saint John begins his Gospel with these words: ‘In the beginning was the Word’ (Saint John 1:1). The evangelist saw it, and rising above the whole creation, mountains, air, the heavens, the stars, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Powers, all Angels, and Archangels, transcending all; he saw the Word that was in the beginning and he drank. He saw above every creature, he drank in from the Lord's Breast. Of all the disciples, the evangelist was the beloved of Jesus; insomuch that he lay on His Breast at supper. There was this secret: that from there might be drunk in, what in the Gospel was to be poured forth. Happy are they who hear and understand. Of the next degree of blessedness are they who though they do not understand, yet believe. For how great a thing it is to see this Word of God. Who can explain it in human words?

Lift up your hearts, my brethren; lift them up as best you can; reject whatsoever occurs to you from the idea of any body. If the Word of God occurs to you under the idea of the light of this sun, expand, extend how you will; set no bounds in your thought to that light; it is nothing compared to the Word of God. Whatsoever of this sort the mind conceives, is less in one part than in the whole. Conceive the Word of God as Whole everywhere. Understand what I say; because of my stress of time I am limiting myself as much as I can for your sakes. Understand what I say.

This light from heaven, which is called the sun, when it comes forth, it enlightens the earth, rules over the day, develops forms, distinguishes colours. A great blessing it is, a great gift of God to all mortal men; let His works magnify Him. If the sun is so beautiful, how much more beautiful is the sun's Maker? And yet look, brethren; the sun pours its rays through the whole earth; penetrates open places, the closed resist it; it sends its light through windows; but can it also do so through a wall? To the Word of God all is open; from the Word of God nothing is hid.

Observe another difference, how far from the Creator is the creature, especially the bodily creature. When the sun is in the East, it is not in the West. Its light indeed sheds from that vast body and reaches even to the West; but itself is not there. When it begins to set, then it will be there. When it rises, it is in the East; when it sets it is in the West. By these operations, it has given name to those quarters. Because it is in the East when it rises at the East, it is called the Rising Sun; because it is at the West when it sets at the West, it is called the Setting Sun. At night it is nowhere seen. Is this true of the Word of God? When He is in the East, is He not in the West; or when He is in the West, is He not in the East? Does He ever leave the earth, and go under or behind the earth? He is All in all.

Who can in words explain this? By what means of proof shall I establish to you what I say? I am speaking as a man, and it is to men that I speak; I am speaking as one weak, to men weaker am I speaking. And yet, my brethren, I am bold to say that I do in some sort see what I am saying to you, though ‘through a glass’, or ‘darkly’, I do in some way understand even within my heart a word touching this thing. But it seeks to go forth to you, and finds no vehicle. The vehicle of the word is the sound of the voice. What I am saying within my own self I seek to say to you, and words fail. For I wish to speak of the Word of God. How great a Word, what kind of Word? ‘All things were made by Him’ (Saint John 1:3).

Return with me, O human infirmity, return, I say. Let us comprehend these human things if we can. We are men, I who speak, I am a man, and to men I speak, and utter the sound of my voice. I convey the sound of my voice to men's ears, and by the sound of my voice I somehow through the ear lay up understanding also in the heart. Let us then study on the way human speech is produced. But if we have not the ability to comprehend even this, in respect of the Word of God what are we? You are listening to me; I am speaking a word. If any one goes out from us, and is asked outside what is being done here, he answers, ‘The Bishop is speaking a word’. I am speaking a word of the Word. But what a word, of what a Word? A mortal word, of the Word Immortal; a changeable word, of the Word Unchangeable; a passing word of the Word Eternal.

Nevertheless, consider my word. For I have told you already, the Word of God is Whole everywhere. See, I am speaking a word to you; what I say reaches to all. Now that what I am saying might come to you all, did you divide what I say? If I were to feed you, to wish to fill not your minds, but your bodies, and to set loaves before you to be satisfied; would you not divide my loaves among you? Could my loaves come to every one of you? If they came to one only, the rest would have none. But now see, I am speaking, and you all receive. Not only do all receive, but all receive it whole. It comes whole to all, to each whole. O the marvels of my word! What then is the Word of God?

Hear again. I have spoken; what I have spoken, has gone forth to you, and has not gone away from me. It has reached you, and has not been separated from me. Before I spoke, I had it, and you had not; I spoke, and you began to have, and I lost nothing. O the marvel of my word! What then is the Word of God? From little things form conjectures of things great. Consider earthly things, praise the heavenly. I am a creature, you are creatures; and such great miracles are done with my word in my heart, in my mouth, in my voice, in your ears, in your hearts. What then is the Creator? O Lord, hear us. Make us, for that which You have made us. Make us good.