God is All and wants to do All in me

Here’s more from the vault of Carthusian reflections. This particular writing deals with something we all likely deal with – or at least we know exists but perhaps we’re not quite ready to confront – that is, great sacrifices being a consequence of intimacy. While it is seldom a topic of external conversation, at least interiorly the thought has crossed many hearts and minds as to the extent of sacrifice required to grow in intimacy with God, as well as how much suffering will our Lord permit in our life if we truly desire to follow in His Footsteps. For those who set aside time for God every day, such thoughts can become a daily Agony in the Garden. Our human weakness has many questions about the spiritual life, all stemming from our inability to surrender completely and unconditionally. This causes our life with God to lack an “ideal,” an inability to conceive a union that is very beautiful. Hope you enjoy these few paragraphs!

At last, I have found my ideal. Now I know where I want to go, and that I shall arrive at my goal. Hitherto, I have groped my way in the darkness; the difficulties I have encountered have wearied and discouraged me. Now I know, and henceforth nothing will hold me back. I will not rest until I have found God in the innermost depths of my heart: “I have found Him Who my soul loves; I held Him and I will not let Him go” (Canticles 3:4). Love will give me wings, for “love is as strong as death” (Canticles 8:6). Difficulties will no longer matter, for “I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13).

If I glance over my past life and am truly sincere with myself, I will have to admit that so far my spiritual life has lacked an ideal, and that is the real reason I have made so little progress. I have failed to understand how deeply God loves and seeks souls – souls that will give themselves to Him so that He may give Himself to them. The degree of intimacy to which our Lord calls us will be achieved in the measure of the generosity of our response to grace. His love is without measure, and longs to give itself completely to souls. But souls are afraid, because of the consequence of that intimacy which calls for great sacrifices on our part.

In future, however, I shall be honest with myself. On the one hand, I know that God wants to take full and entire possession of my soul and that He has predestined me to be “conformable to the Image of His Son” (Romans 8:29). He wants me to be His son by adoption. On the other hand, I know also that my unworthiness is no obstacle to His love. Who, indeed, could deem himself worthy? “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves” (1 John 1:8).

But there is much more than this. It is not in spite of our unworthiness that God seeks our love, but because of it: that He may reveal His glory in us. The more unworthy the material, the more is glory reflected on an artist who fashions a masterpiece out of it. It is this truth that our Lord tried to bring home to men in the parables of the prodigal son, and of the lost sheep. There is more joy in heaven, we are told, over one sinner doing penance than over all the just (cf. Luke 15:7). If , then, I have made up my mind to persevere in my ideal, I must be continually acknowledging that, on the one hand, I am nothing and can do nothing of myself, but that , on the other hand, God is all: that He can do all things and wants to do all in me, so that I can make a complete oblation of my life to Him.

The Interior House of Prayer

For this Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, found in the writings of the fourteenth century Byzantine writer and mystic, Nicholas Cabasilas, are instructions concerning a house of prayer not built by human hands, that is, the heart and soul of man. This is written as a reflection of the Gosepl story of Jesus casting out those who sold and bought in the temple. Nicholas Cabasilas writes:

"Virtuous men keep prompt vigilance against the roots of evil and resist it from the outset; guarding their heart for God alone, dedicating it to Him as a temple, a remembrance of God. They know, in fact, that this sacred place should not be exposed to folly. They know that nothing equals the sacred soul that is consecrated to God. It must be very impenetrable to those who sell and buy, and be free from hawkers and moneychangers. For him who prays, this house of prayer must be free from turmoil. Truthfully, the term 'house of prayer' was not always present in the temple of Jerusalem where at times no one was praying. Instead, the expression 'house of prayer' well suits Christians, who according to the prescription of Saint Paul (cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:17), must be constantly devoted to union with God through constant prayer."

Nicholas Cabasilas continues by the explaining that the imagery of Christ driving them out with a scourge of little cords was “not to enforce the temple which He knew would be destroyed, but to emphasize to all of His faithful in which He promised to dwell,” that His Indwelling should keep us “free from worries and concerns.” He continues by writing that Jesus also “uses the whip to symbolize the boldness of our passions, and therefore there is much need of a strong heart and soul, of a sober mind and of maintaining vigilance, and above all that the intervening Hand of the Savior, for those who do not accept Him as such, cannot drive out the tumult of the soul. For anyone who lives in Christ, it is very important to maintain purity of soul from every disorder."

As this teaching continues, Nicholas Cabasilas writes about grace in the soul of the believer which comes through the sacraments; and that “grace, which dwells in the believer, is the Spirit of the Son of God crying out in our hearts: ‘Abba, Father.’ Scripture says that it is not right for us to leave the Word of God and serve tables" (cf. Acts 6:2). Nicholas Cabasilas explains that there are three reasons for this: "First, nothing is perpended ahead of God; next, because everything comes from the Supreme Distributor of every good; and finally, because the True God has promised those who seek first the Kingdom of heaven, to give the remainder in addition” (cf. Luke 12:31).

To close out his reflection on the interior house of prayer, Nicholas Cabasilas writes that Jesus “does not want us to tire ourselves fruitlessly. It takes the soul away from the remembrance of God and obscures the intellect.”

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

First Reading, 1 Kings 17:10-16
Zarephath is located in what is modern day Lebanon.

This Reading offers a foretaste of the abundant blessings that would flow from God to His people via the Incarnation of Jesus Christ of Whom Elijah prefigures. In this Reading's example, God showers blessings upon a woman and her son through the intercession of Elijah the prophet. After perusing this text you might be recalling the multiplication of the loaves and fishes story in the Gospels.

There are a couple of things to consider here. First, God supplies the blessing, and Elijah intercedes on behalf of the woman and her son; but it is the woman's obedience to Elijah that seems to trigger the blessing. In other words, the woman is rewarded for taking a leap of faith. The other thing to consider is something that Catholics don't talk about too much -- the biblical principle of tithing. The woman barely has enough ingredients to feed herself and her son but obeys Elijah's command to feed him first and then go and prepare something for herself and her son. She not only displays an act of faith by trusting in the words of Elijah but also gives to God or the work of God first. She trusted that what was left would be at the very least sufficient. It was not only sufficient but abundant.

It's easy to get caught up in negativity when serving God. "I'm too nervous to be a Reader at Mass." – "My voice isn't polished enough to sing in the choir." – "Father will yell at me if I make a mistake while serving at the altar." -- "I don't have the endurance to get involved with the Pro-Life movement," – etc., etc., etc. God is looking for leaps of faith and says to human hearts: "Give Me what you have and watch what I can do with it."

A poor, humble girl named Miriam became the Mother of God. One of Christianity's staunchest enemies became one of its greatest apostles in Saint Paul. An uneducated Polish nun named Faustina became the herald of the Divine Mercy message. A thespian in Nazi occupied Poland would later become Pope John Paul II. Jean-Marie Vianney was a man of limited knowledge who failed his entrance exams to enter the seminary; but he was certain of his vocation and would eventually become a priest and convert the entire town of Ars. This man of limited knowledge is today the patron saint of priests.

Saints come from all walks of life and for many of them it was an unbelievable and miraculous road that led to their eventual canonization. But it was their faith that helped pave that road. They gave what they had and God multiplied it. Somewhere, someone was the first to offer the prayer: "Lord, I've done all I can do – now do all You can do."


Second Reading, Hebrews 9:24-28
Saint Augustine of Canterbury taught that when Christ died He put chains around the devil in the sense that he would not be able to tempt us beyond our limits of resistance. The reality of this teaching might cause the shedding of tears when reflecting on the reality of our own lives. But our brokenness is never irreparable unless we make that choice.

Christ will appear a second time and bring salvation to those who eagerly await Him. To eagerly await Him is to be faithful to the Gospel message. Christ also dwells in another sanctuary not made by hands – the human soul. Eagerly awaiting Him and living out the Gospel means to pray that the Indwelling of Christ will be manifested daily in our lives so that Christ can clearly be seen in us.

Jesus only needed to offer Himself once. We are sinners but the gift of Christ's mercy is the cure for our illness. And with the cure comes yet another gracious invitation from Jesus to be in His service.


Gospel, Mark 12:38-44
After reading this Gospel don't be tempted to throw away your clothes and jewelry and put on sackcloth unless you have a very radical Saint Francis-like calling to serve Christ. Don't shy away from sitting in the front pew at your parish. Don't feel that you shouldn't pray before the Blessed Sacrament but rather somewhere that you cannot be seen; and don't feel like you need to cut your prayer time in half. It would be, however, beneficial for your soul not to engage in devouring the houses of widows.

What is in your heart? That is a key question to understanding this Gospel. It isn’t so much important that anyone else knows what is in your heart; but it is important that you know because God knows. Scripture tells us that God does not judge by the appearances of a man, but instead looks into the heart (cf. 1 Samuel 16:7).

Traditionally this Gospel story is titled, "The Widow's Mite". According to what is written in the Talmud, there were thirteen receptacles or containers in which to place offerings in the temple. These receptacles were shaped like trumpets. Jesus, proving Himself to be God, brings to the attention of His apostles the hidden truth behind the widow's offering. He does this to stress the importance of the intention of the heart when serving God. The moral worth of the widow's offering is measured in accordance to the sacrifice she made.

There are virtually two reasons for doing anything. One's intentions will either be honorable or dishonorable. In matters of prayer, for example, honor and dishonor can be more specific by suggesting that on the honorable side, one prays out of true love for God and seeks a more intimate relationship with Him. On the dishonorable side, it is done to be somewhat glitzy. Do I go to church and pray before the Monstrance or Tabernacle because I truly love Jesus and have a devotion to the Blessed Sacrament; or is it because I want to impress Father? Am I singing in the choir because God gave me this voice and I'm using it to serve Him; or is it because of all the compliments I receive from parishioners?

Temptation is a powerful force and it's easy for even the most devout to occasionally catch themselves on the wrong side of the fence. Sometimes holy intentions result in nothing more than feeding egos. Jesus teaches us that gifts should not be judged by their absolute value. How true this is, otherwise, how could God love us so much? Deeming God as our greatest gift maps out for us a life of service to Him; and even when holy intentions go awry His boundless mercy heals us and once again sets our sights to giving Him all the glory. "He must increase; but I must decrease" (John 3:30).

Draw from Thy Heart that which will grant rest for the Holy Souls

Most merciful Jesus, I offer Thee the virtues and merits of Thy holy life and of Thy Passion, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Thy Mother, of all the Saints and Elect. I offer them to Thy Heart and, through this same Heart, to Thy Divine Father, for the souls in Purgatory.

Most faithful and most good Jesus, vouchsafe to draw from Thy Wounds and Thy merciful Heart that which will give eternal rest to the souls of the departed. Most merciful Jesus, through Thy compassionate Heart, grant eternal rest to each and all of them.

O most sweet Jesus, I beseech Thee, through the kindness of Thy Heart, to take pity on the souls detained in the flames of Purgatory. Remember, O most merciful Jesus, all the favors and mercies Thou hast shown towards us; remember Thy pains, the Wounds Thou hast received, all the Blood Thou hast shed; and finally, the very bitter death Thou hast accepted for us. I beseech Thee to pour out on the souls in Purgatory the virtue, efficacy, fruit and merit of Thy sufferings and Thy Passion, in order that each soul there may be entirely released, or at least greatly relieved. O Jesus, remember that these souls are Thy friends, Thy children, Thy Elect, whom Thou hast redeemed. Let Thy justice be satisfied with the grievous punishment they have endured until now. For Thine own sake, O Lord, show mercy and remit the rest of their sufferings.

And then, O sweet Jesus, if it can contribute to Thy glory, grant that I may pass from this life straight into life eternal. But, O my God, if Thou hast otherwise decreed, and the contrary is for Thy greater glory, I resign and give myself into Thy loving Hands. Do with me as Thou wilt, most loving, most faithful and most merciful Lord Jesus.

Jean Michel de Vesly
General of the Carthusian Order from 1594 to 1600

Silence is of Eternity

Eye has not seen, nor ear heard; neither has it entered into the heart of man what things God has prepared for those that love Him (1 Corinthians 2:9).

What the eyes will see and the ears will hear -- could there be anything in the ability to speak that would do it justice? Even the brilliant mind of Saint Thomas Aquinas was left silent. Perhaps even contemplating this biblical verse to the very edge that our limited intellect can take us may be enough to reduce us to silence. When one has gone as far as the mind will allow, what else is there to be said? Being awestruck renders silence. Beholding renders silence. Being privy to deep celestial mysteries renders silence. Even if the simple exercise of listening to one another is to be effective, then quiet and stillness are necessary. In attempting to listen to the gentle whispers of the Almighty, heaven mandates silence.

In The Silence of Saint Thomas by Joseph Pieper are these words:

The last word of Saint Thomas is not communication but silence. And it is not death which takes the pen out of his hand. His tongue is stilled by the super-abundance of life in the mystery of God. He is silent, not because he has nothing further to say; he is silent because he has been allowed to glimpse into the inexpressible depths of that mystery which is not reached by any human thought or speech.

The acts of the canonization process record: On the feast of Saint Nicholas, in the year 1273, as Thomas turned back to his work after Holy Mass, he was strangely altered. He remained steadily silent; he did not write; he dictated nothing. He laid aside the Summa Theologica on which he had been working. Abruptly, in the middle of the treatise on the Sacrament of Penance, he stopped writing. Reginald, his friend, asks him, troubled: "Father, how can you want to stop such a great work?" Thomas answers only, "I can write no more." Reginald of Piperno seriously believed that his master and friend might have become mentally ill through his overwhelming burden of work. After a long while, he asks and urges once again. Thomas gives the answer: "Reginald, I can write no more. All that I have hitherto written seems to me nothing but straw. Reginald is stunned by his reply.

It’s almost as if the remarkable wisdom given to Saint Thomas Aquinas, far beyond what most humans beings receive, did not compare, however, to what he discovered, what enveloped him and reduced him to silence – so much so, that he was too awestruck to continue to let his pen record what he had never previously beheld.

In Sartor Resartus by the poet Thomas Carlyle, a character explaining the virtues of silence, concluded his exhortation by saying: “Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.” The Augustinian Walter Hilton wrote in his Ladder of Perfection: “His [Jesus] Voice is so sweet and so mighty that it puts to silence in a soul all the jangling of all other speakers, for it is a Voice of power, softly founded in a pure soul.”

The Word of God Illumines Our Daily Path

During last week’s Wednesday General Audience at Saint Peter’s Square, our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI spoke on Monastic and Scholastic theology. He spoke about the importance of Sacred Scripture in the monasteries of the twelfth century and the occupation of lectio divina. This, of course, is still a treasured occupation today. In fact, the Holy Father said that “it is useful to treasure monastic theology.” Here’s an excerpt from his catechesis last week.

In the monasteries of the 12th century… biblical theology was particularly widespread. The monks, in fact, were all devoted listeners and readers of Sacred Scripture, and one of their main occupations consisted in lectio divina, namely, prayerful reading of the Bible. For them the simple reading of the sacred text was not enough to perceive the profound meaning, the interior unity and the transcendent message. Therefore, they had to practice a "spiritual reading," leading in docility to the Holy Spirit. Thus, in the school of the Fathers, the Bible was interpreted allegorically, to discover in every page, of the Old as well as the New Testament, what is said about Christ and His work of salvation.

Last year's synod of bishops on the "Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church" recalled the importance of the spiritual approach to Sacred Scripture. To this end, it is useful to treasure monastic theology, an uninterrupted biblical exegesis, as also the works composed by its representatives, precious ascetic commentaries on the books of the Bible. Therefore, to literary preparation, monastic theology joined spiritual preparation. It was, in fact, aware that a purely theoretic or profane reading was not enough: To enter the heart of Sacred Scripture, it must be read in the spirit in which it was written and created. Literary preparation was necessary to know the exact meaning of the words and to facilitate the understanding of the text, refining the grammatical and philological sensibility. Jean Leclercq, the Benedictine scholar of the last century titled the essay with which he presented the characteristics of monastic theology thus : "L'amour des lettres et le desir de Dieu" (The love of words and the desire for God).

In fact, the desire to know and to love God, which comes to us through His Word received, meditated and practiced, leads to seeking to go deeper into the biblical texts in all their dimensions. There is then another attitude on which those who practice monastic theology insist, that is, a profound attitude of prayer, which must precede, support and complement the study of Sacred Scripture. Because, in the last analysis, monastic theology is listening to the Word of God, one cannot but purify the heart to receive it and, above all, one cannot but kindle it with fervor to encounter the Lord. Therefore, theology becomes meditation, prayer, song of praise and drives one to a sincere conversion. Not a few representatives of monastic theology reached, along this way, the highest goal of mystical experience, and they constitute an invitation also for us to nourish our existence with the Word of God, for example, through more attentive listening to the Readings and the Gospel, especially in Sunday Mass. Moreover, it is important to reserve a certain time every day for meditation of the Bible, so that the Word of God is the lamp that illumines our daily path on earth.

Translation by Zenit

What Must Be Done

In the Carthusian Order, the Office of the Dead is not only prayed on the Commemoration of All Souls, 2 November, but also on 13 November, which is when the Order prays for all their dearly departed monks or nuns, their families and relatives. Along with the daily praying of the Canonical Office, and the daily offering of the Office of Our Lady, the Office of the Dead is prayed weekly by the Carthusian Fathers in the solitude of their cells, praying for all the departed. On 2 and 13 November and when a member of their monastic community dies, however, the Office of the Dead is prayed in choir in the church. When a relative or family member of a monk or nun dies, the entire community prays Vespers of the Dead for the whole week in the solitude of the cell. The Carthusian Office of the Dead is known as the Agenda which translates as, “what must be done.”

Death in the Carthusian Order maintains the same hiddenness as did life on earth. When a monk or nun dies, he or she is buried on the grounds of the monastery. The grave is marked by a simple wooden cross in the ground without the name of the monk or nun buried there, maintaining their anonymity.