FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
One pair of brand-new white socks. You might have received a pair last year about this time, but none since, and the ones you get weekly from the laundry are not necessarily yours. You sit in a prison cell, perhaps on death row. Consider how you feel when you slip those socks on – clean, unworn by anyone else, just for you. You are not sure whom to thank, but the chaplains are a good place to start. What you do know is that you received them through an act of kindness – kindness from people you do not know, people who are concerned for your welfare, people who follow Jesus, the rescuer and explorer.
“Anyone who is kind wants to know when people have been made happy. They care for that more than for being thanked,” writes Frances Hodgson Burnett in The Little Princess. Happy, no matter where you reside, is a blessing.

Or maybe you received some writing paper, an adult coloring book, hard candy or a hygiene product. Perhaps you also received a Christmas card, peanut butter crackers or a new toothbrush and toothpaste. A puzzle book, a new ballpoint pen or some crayons. The point is obvious – when you receive these few items allowed by Parchman prison, especially for death row and maximum-security prisoners, you are one of the fellows welling up with gratitude.
Kindness seems a small thing, and it is when many of us take things for granted; we miss its deep gift. “Kindness must be the highest virtue; don’t let me forget that ever,” writes Joan Blos in A Gathering of Days.
I find in the Psalms – 47 and counting – the call to kindness, the description of kindness, and the God who is kindness. For example, Psalm 103:4, 17 tells us: “God redeems your life from destruction, crowning you with kindness and compassion; the kindness of the Lord is from eternity to eternity toward those who fear him.” (See also Psalm 89.)
Kindness is God’s essential character, and in Hebrew the word is hesed. You might be surprised to learn it has many meanings: loving devotion, mercy, goodness, generosity, loyalty, favor and love. When you do a kind act, you may not think much about all that – just “git ’er done,” because it is the right thing to do. Yet there is much deeper meaning, and I hope in this new year you will want to know more.
Hesed also means dependable, faithful, sacrificial love – no matter the circumstances – and unwavering reliability. Here is the key: It is an active commitment, not just an emotional sentiment. We find this lived out throughout Scripture – in Exodus, Ruth, Hosea and Micah – where we discover the covenant God has made with us, his people.
When you have a covenant, such as marriage, you are in a constant relationship. This means the promises are not spontaneous feelings but deliberate actions taken to maintain the bond. Kindness means taking gracious action, built on the faithful and enduring actions of a loving God. We experience God as rescuer, bringing us relief and revealing his divine compassion. The parishioners of the tiny parish who collect these items each Advent know the joy of gracious action. What else does it look like?
St. Mother Teresa wrote in Something Beautiful for God: “Be kind and merciful. Let no one ever come to you without coming away better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting.”
Another aspect is one St. Paul points out to the Romans: “Do you not know that God’s kindness is an invitation to you to repent? Despite this, your hard heart and impenitent heart is storing up retribution on the day of wrath when the just judgment of God will be reveled, when He will repay everyone for what they have done: and immortality by eternal life for those whom strive for glory, honor, patiently doing right; wrath and fury to those who selfishly disobey the truth and obey wickedness.” (Romans 2:4ff NAB)
In this new year, full of opportunities for random acts of kindness – paying it forward and sacrificing for people you might not even know – I pray to learn. God keeps his promises. Will I?
“A man was lost in the desert. Later, when describing his ordeal to friends, he told how, in sheer despair, he had knelt down and cried out to God to rescue him.
‘And did God answer your prayer?’ they asked.
‘Oh no! Before he could, an explorer – a rescuer – appeared and showed me the way,’” writes Anthony de Mello in The Prayer of the Frog (1992).
We know that rescuer is Jesus. What great kindness. Let us do the same for one another.
Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese

“When the soul is willingly emptied for love in order to have Him who is all. Then it is able to receive spiritual rest.” –Julian of Norwich, d. 1416

I had finished my prayer time … in silence, surrounded by my icons … and I gazed out the window to an overcast and cold morning … trying to allow Jesus to give me rest amidst recent anxiety and concern. It was not going to happen, and I was sure of that. I could not make it happen myself, and Jesus seemed far, far away. The middle of Advent and on into the “Os” is a fragile time. The fullness of Christmas had filled everyone else, and many had a lack of peaceful rest.

A few days later, I ran into Cardinal Zen’s “Advent Reflections” while tidying up a bookshelf. Perhaps you have read it or used it for your own reflection?

First, “Who likes darkness? Isn’t the light sure to prevail? Unfortunately, it is not necessarily so. Darkness often tempts us. In the dark, we can do shoddy things.” (p. 23) In so many of our places, the sun sets early. Darkness might be experienced, as Cardinal Zen says, “For Christians, ‘despairing of hope’ for salvation and thinking that God could not save us is indeed a sin … But what is it exactly that you doubt? … the power of God or His mercy? … He is always with us, so His plan must succeed.” (p. 19)

Another: “Because of His excessive love for us, God sent us His Son in the likeness of our sinful bodies – a fragile infant laid in a manger; only with the help of an angel, He could escape the attempt on His life. He wanted to experience all the hardships of human existence, hoping that we might trust Him and recognize Him as one of us.” (p. 74) This reminded me of my favorite saint, Julian of Norwich … who reminds us of the extraordinary love God has for us.

Off I went exploring the nearly end of her “Revelations of Divine Love” … and I read some paragraphs as if I’d never seen them before. I lived for 20 years not some 26 miles from her cell in Norwich (England) and frequently went there to pray.

How could she experience this silence and rest when “surrounded by the Black Death, parts of the Hundred Years War, the peasants’ revolt, Edward III and Richard II, and Henry IV taking the throne”? Does any of that sound in the least like what surrounds you? Pandemics, natural disasters, crime, political intrigue, extreme consumerism … ? How could one be expected to pray in that environment? How can there be spiritual rest?

Today we expect everyone to comment on most things – politics, family, religion. What is our business? What is none of our business? In the day, Julian commented on none of it. “Instead of pointing to men’s failures to be human and Christian, Juliana focuses on the love of a living, loving, personal God, His sufferings, and her response to them. The anchorhold at Norwich might as well have been in China for all the notice she takes of current sins and scandals, local persons and events, or the … immoralities of the failed shepherds of a spiritually starving, helpless flock … she is to observe God alone, to listen to Him and to make her response, and to transmit the experience to her fellow Christians.” (Introduction)

Cardinal Zen’s reflections kept me considering this notion of “excessive love.” Fit right in with Julian. He points to the reality that God wanted from all eternity to be our God, and that we become His people. How do we come to understand this? How do we know we are loved by God?

Julian explained that dread is caused by fright, pain, doubt and reverent dread. Curiously, she says, “Love and dread are brothers. They are rooted in us by the goodness of our Maker and can never be taken from us. We have the power to love from nature and from grace. We have the power to dread from nature and from grace … it is proper for us to love Him for His goodness.” (p. 217)

In considering how we learn to trust, she reminds us that love and dread take on different aspects: “In love we shall be friendly and near to God, and in dread we shall be gentle and courteous.” Advent brings us near to God either through love or dread.

Advent can be a time of renewal or discovery. Cardinal Zen poses this: “How many still do not know Jesus Christ? … How many who know Him are yet unwilling to obey? … But it is undeniable that ‘the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’” (p. 144)

The darkness will not prevail. Julian tells us: “All shall be well … not only the noble and great things but also the little and small, lowly and simple things … not one of the smallest things will be forgotten … He wants us to be more at ease in soul and more peaceful in love and to stop looking at all the tempests that could keep us from rejoicing in Him!” (p. 132) That is fruitful spiritual rest.

Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
Imagine, if you can, a huge pot of bright red paint – another of yellow. Now picture a pot entirely of orange made by mixing the two. A third space – the coming together of two separate things to make something brand new.

Or see a neighborhood full of people from Peru. Nearby is a neighborhood of people from Appalachia. Two miles away is a neighborhood full of folks from Appalachia and Peru, living side by side, sharing in most things. That becomes a third space – overlapping into a completely new neighborhood.

Some of the characteristics of a third space are people coming together for social connection, creativity and belonging. The concept of “third space” is attributed to sociolinguist Homi K. Bhabha, expressing a theory of identity and community realized through language, though its application has expanded over the years. Sociologist Ray Oldenburg popularized the phrase in 1989 in his book “The Great Good Place,” where he emphasized “their crucial role in civic engagement and social interaction.” In an article for the UNESCO Courier, he defined them as “informal public places where people can gather, socialize and maintain a democracy.”

We can look back in history and discover these spaces, such as trading posts, Greek agoras, Roman forums, medieval taverns or your favorite pub.

What is first or second space, you might ask? First is home; second, work or school. These are the spaces in which you live the most and hopefully find comfort, have your responsibilities and success. But a third space is critical for your well-being, especially your mental health.

These are the overlapping places where what you come from – your routines and practices – lessen, and you enter into another world, so to speak. Here, you socialize with folks unknown to you, who you would consider different from yourself. Alternative spaces are explicitly created to address unmet needs, so local community engagement at a coffee shop (often regularly) or a library lessens loneliness and encourages all people to experience a new sort of connectedness.

There are opportunities to grow in any number of ways, to experience laughter, as well as to listen to others. Community gardens or river walks – all third spaces. Parks, support groups or hairdressers are among the many different types of third places. There are running groups (or walking), book clubs, or my favorites – my place of worship, Sacred Heart Catholic Church; Koty Earl’s, where I frequently eat breakfast; and GIRLFRIENDS, where I engage in art and devotion with other women weekly.

There is, I think, yet another sort of third place, and we see it expressed in the Scriptures. It is not a physical place but a turning of the heart. Consider the stories of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25ff) and the tender moment where Jesus from the cross invites John to take Mary into his home (Jn 19:26ff). Both of these bring us into a world of compassion from a world of hurt and challenge us to live differently.

We know both these stories and the worlds of anguish they represent; do we hear the unmet cry for compassion where all is new? Marcel Proust said, “Love is space and time measured by the heart.”

Compassion is a third place we all need to travel to, to learn to live in. We can look about in the other worlds we inhabit, those of social media and political chatter. We can become as brittle as the priest or Levite and pass by the opportunity to grow or be of service, or we can bend down like the Samaritan and discover a neighbor in distress. We can open our homes like John and at the same time receive the gift Mary has to bring.

So, what’s your favorite third space? Is it physical, digital or like compassion, from the heart? Maybe you need to create one. Where will you help connect folks so that compassion might be lived out? What are your unmet needs? What is unmet when you carefully look around?

“Compassion is another name for community. It is the mirror of relatedness that accepts the pain and weakness of another as one’s own. It is an expression of love that says, ‘You belong to me,’” wrote Sister Ilia Delio, OSF, in her book “Compassion.”

Blessings.

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
As in a responsorial psalm, repeat after me: God is in the obstacle.

Or so they thought. Or so they said. However, for some, in that desert, after a little while, when the buzz quiets, something else takes over – a kind of resistance, acedia. It is not just monks and nuns who suffer this; married people, singles, anyone can fall prey.

Kathleen Norris, in her exceptional book “Acedia & Me,” tells how the word itself has gone through a myriad of definitions since the earliest writings in “The Praktikos” of Evagrius Ponticus (345–399). Some are: “Acedia: the deadly sin of sloth; or spiritual torpor and apathy,” according to Webster’s Third New International Dictionary. The Oxford English Dictionary defines “accidie” as heedlessness, torpor … a non-caring state. The Online Medical Dictionary describes “acedia” as a mental syndrome whose chief features are listlessness, carelessness, apathy and melancholia.

Repeat: God is in the obstacle.

When the seeker would ask about this struggle, Abba Poemen would advise: “Watchfulness, self-knowledge, and discernment. These are the guides of the soul,” according to “Desert Fathers and Mothers” by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove.
Isadore of Pelusia offered this: “Many desire virtue, but fear to go forward on the way that leads to it, while others consider that virtue does not even exist. So, it is necessary to persuade the former to give up their habitual idleness, and to teach the others what virtue really is.”

Amma Syncletica said there is an asceticism determined by the enemy and practiced by his disciples. She asked, “How are we to distinguish between the divine and demonic tyranny?” Her answer was: “We must arm ourselves in every way against the demons. For they attack us from outside, and they also stir us up from within; and the soul is like a ship when great waves break over it, and it sinks because the hold is too full,” as recorded in “The Sayings of the Desert Fathers” by Benedicta Ward. And you ask, how is God in the obstacle?

Amma Theodora, renowned for her wisdom, tells us it is good to live in peace, practicing perpetual prayer. “However,” she says, “you should realize that as soon as you intend to live in peace, at once evil comes and weighs down your soul through accidie, faintheartedness and evil thoughts. It also attacks your body through sickness, debility, weakening of the knees and all the members. It dissipates the strength of the soul and body, so that one believes one is ill and no longer able to pray,” also from “The Sayings of the Desert Fathers.”

Yes, you’ve had this experience. You sit down to pray, feeling quite good, knowing you will talk with God … when you remember your shopping list, calling your mother or watering the plants. It will only take a minute, so you do that thing. Then the phone rings, the TV goes off, the kids pack in from school … and it keeps happening. Those little demons of distress wiggle into your soul, and it seems there’s not much you can do about the indifference, weariness, lax intentions or dryness that grows.

Cassian wrote that “if we are overcome by sloth or carelessness and spend our time in idle gossip, or are entangled in the cares of this world and unnecessary anxieties, the result will be that a sort of species of tares will spring up and occupy our hearts, and as our Lord and Savior says, wherever the treasure of our works or purpose may be, there also our heart is sure to continue.”

Sloth is a culpable lack of physical or spiritual effort; acedia or laziness. One of the capital sins, according to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, sins are called “capital” because “they engender other sins or vices.” (1866) This spiritual effort manifests itself mainly during prayer and in the life of one given to God; this is a disaster. “Someone said to Antony, ‘Pray for me.’ The old man said to him, ‘I will have no mercy upon you, nor will God have any, if you yourself do not make an effort,’” writes Benedicta Ward from Carrigan’s “The Wisdom of the Desert Fathers and Mothers.”

Acedia in full bloom looks like frustration or weariness, experienced as sadness – “sadness in relation to a spiritual good … a retreat from the divine good itself,” as St. Thomas Aquinas says in “Summa Theologica.” I just don’t care. I can’t be bothered.

Kenneth Russell, in his article in “Review for Religious,” writes that “acedia is a gray morning’s inclination not to intensify the original yes to God, community or spouse … choose to swim no further. … What they really opt for is some means of control over their own comfort. … The victims of acedia tread water and console their anxieties with sleep or attempt to dissipate them in one distraction after another.”

David of Augsburg (d. 1272) described “accidie” in three kinds: the first is bitterness of mind that cannot be pleased by anything cheerful or wholesome; the second, a kind of indolent torpor loving sleep and comfort; and the third, “a weariness in such things as belong to God, praying without devotion, rushing through, thinking of other things as not to be bored.” Chaucer’s “Parson’s Tale” notes that “envy and anger cause bitterness, which is the mother of acedia, and takes from a man the love of all goodness. Then is acedia the anguish of the troubled heart; as St. Augustine says, ‘It is the sadness of goodness and the joy of evil.’”

How can God be here?

It has been a very hot summer; maybe your prayer is distressed? Think of the Noonday Devil, as acedia is often called – for at the height of noon the sun beats down, the pray-er is hungry, nothing is going right, and one could not be convinced God is in these obstacles. Give up. But I was meant for this – this community, this vocation, this spouse. Or was I? The demon of doubt squeaks in. This is where my talent lies – the very one given to me by God, you try to think. Mark Cuban, the entrepreneur, quipped: “Talent without effort is wasted talent. And while effort is the one thing we can control, applying that effort intelligently is next on the list.”

Finally, Abbot Jean-Charles Nault, OSB, sums it up when he writes that “acedia is the enemy of spiritual joy … a profound withdrawal into self to save one’s freedom at any price … no longer any room for an abandonment to the other or for the joy of gift. What remains is sadness or bitterness … distancing oneself, separated from others and likewise separated from God,” as he wrote in “Enemy of Spiritual Joy” in Communio journal.

What to do: Intensify your prayer. Don’t look for distractions. Be vigilant. Don’t settle for being less than you can. Don’t refuse responsibility. Do for others. Search for God in the obstacles. Life in God is not a spectator sport.

“And should our branches be broken off by negligence, carelessness, disdain or ruin, may these reckless prunings carry even more significance as symbols of peace in a broken world,” wrote Sister M. Guider, OSF.

God is in the obstacles.

God has found you.

Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
Mother Teresa commented, “Everywhere there is suffering, but there is also a great hunger for God and love.” Gotta go for that, and as we welcome the ‘Pope named Bob’ as our shepherd, I suspect the tension between the two will continue to be addressed. One way Pope Francis left us, not long before his passing, was his charge to artists. As we move into this new era, let us not forget how critical beauty is!

At White Night in St Peter’s, Papa Francis told artists, “the responsibility of artists is to make beauty shine.” He included all sorts of artists … writers, dancers, musicians and painters, among many, and he set a bar for happy hearts. There is much suffering, and there is much hunger, and one way these are addressed is through the arts. That Pope Francis charged artists with the ‘responsibility’ of ‘making beauty shine’ is no small assignment. Most countries have a national arts something or other that shares culture and beauty … some nations restrict how they share it. Even the poorest of nations have marvelous works of art that lift the spirits of their families and peoples and share with others the joy of their culture.

Francis suggested that “artists must help humanity not to lose its way … to be witnesses to the revolutionary vision of the beatitudes … not only creating beauty but also ‘revealing the truth and goodness hidden within the folds of history giving voice to the voiceless.’” Over centuries, artists, builders and designers have left behind impressions and monuments, pots and aqueducts, which have stood the test of time. We saw a lot of Rome as the conclave met … buildings, statues, paintings … all telling stories that the artists wanted us to remember. The scriptures were announced, and we were reminded of the functionality of buildings and also the ways they brought exquisite beauty and harmony to the scene.

Francis continued, “We need artists to help us ask questions about time and purpose … are we pilgrims or wanderers? Does our journey have a destination, or are we directionless?” What demanding questions for people with great insight and courage. It takes both for a person to function as an artist … partly because the criticism can be high enough to cancel them out! No, he asks artists to show us the way forward … to move us beyond selfishness to sharing. If you notice, the conductor has his/her back to the applause. The conductor caresses and encourages the musicians and takes care that they make the music beautiful. Her/his responsibility is to share that joy with listeners so that their hearts might light up and their anguish be set free.

“We must learn,” he said, “to discern between the chaff scattered by the wind from what is solid like trees planted by streams of water (Ps1).” The artist leads us in at least two ways … outward toward the universe (into the 6-20 trillion galaxies and their swirls of old and new designs of stars) and/or down deep into our hearts where we are touched to grow and create. Ecclesiastes reminds us that “God has made everything beautiful in its time.” When the writer says ‘everything’, I have to remind myself that everything means just that … difficulties as well as successes, hard times as well as times of ease. Our God, the greatest of artists, has created for us such beauty and wonder that we can never, even in the longest of lifetimes, take it all in. We are grateful as well to those who can draw our attention to it through their creativity, sharing in these gifts of God. And Paul in Ephesians reminds us that we are indeed God’s work of art … and no artist wants his/her art to be trashed or considered less than. Francis would want us to remember that as we learn to treat one another with greater dignity and respect.

I imagine the era of Pope Leo XIV to be one of learning even more how to care for one another and let us thank Pope Francis for his invitation and charge to artists to make beauty shine.

Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
A little research goes a long way. As we approached Palm Sunday, I started looking up vines, branches, palms, trees and their unique flavors and how they have been used in parables and fables to teach us. Using a guide like The Jerome Biblical Commentary (or other commentaries) and a book like Herbert Lockyer’s All the Parables of the Bible will land you just where you want to go … or find something new you hadn’t thought of! The footnotes of your study Bible are also very important.

Trees take us back as far as the Garden of Eden and the opening of the Hebrew Bible, where we discover the Tree of Good and Evil. “God commanded the man, ‘You can eat from any tree in the garden, except from the Tree-of-Knowledge-of-Good-and-Evil. Don’t eat from it. The moment you eat from that tree, you’re dead.’” (Peterson, The Message, Genesis 2:16). Seemed quite clear – one has to wonder what went wrong!

Somewhere between the death of Joshua and the rise of Saul (6th century B.C.) some interesting characters appear in the story of Israel becoming a people. The age dominated by Moses was declining, and David was still far off.

The great question of the Book of Judges is: How can Israel live without a great leader? And the answer was that it lived, but not so well (JBC, Judges, p. 132). There was no king in Israel, as in the pagan communities around them. The Book of Judges is not about court but rather refers to ruling. Who will rule and serve the people?
As the story goes, Gideon refuses to rule even when they say, “Rule over us as you rescued us from the power of Midian.” “I shall not, nor my sons. The Lord must rule over you.” (Judges 8:22, NAB) Yahweh makes Gideon (who has 70 sons and a concubine who bears him Abimelech) a success, and the Israelites mistake that for a sign that he should rule them. Gideon declined and made an ephod of gold to be worshipped (rather than Yahweh) in the city of Ophrah, and this brought about the downfall of his family. (Judges 9:27, NAB)

Gideon dies, and the Israelites go back to worshipping the Baals, forgetting the Lord. They were not grateful for all the good Gideon had done for Israel. His illegitimate son, Abimelech, seizes kingly rank after talking to his mother’s people in Shechem, where his kinsmen sympathize with him. He then “hired shiftless men and ruffians as his followers … he slew his brothers and became king …” (Judges 9:5-6, NAB), though Jether and Jotham, the youngest, live … hiding away as this brother stands by the oak and is crowned king.

All this was reported to Jotham, who “went to the top of Mount Gerizim and cried out in a loud voice … ‘Hear me, citizens of Shechem, that God may hear you!’” (Judges 9:8, NAB). And he proceeded to tell the wonderful Parable of the Trees.

Already mentioned is the Tree in the Garden, and throughout the Scriptures, we have many stories, parables and fables featuring trees and vines. The very first parable, however, recorded in the form of a fable, is that of the trees choosing for themselves a king (Judges 9, NAB). Lockyer points out, “Jotham used this fable in order to convince the inhabitants of Shechem of the folly of having elected so vile a man as Abimelech for their king” (Parables, p. 10). You will find other parables – a favored teaching technique in the East and one of Jesus’ favorites – in Isaiah, the Parable of the Vineyard; Ezekiel, the Parable of the Vine Branch; Daniel, the Parable of the Great Tree; Zechariah, the Parable of the Horses and Myrtle Trees; Matthew, the Parable of the Tree and Fruit, the Mustard Tree and the Fig Tree; Luke, the Barren Fig Tree; and John’s True Vine. And that’s not all … what will you explore?

The wonderful Parable of the Trees makes the middle of Judges (9:7-15) so delightful and informative. Here we have the opportunity to consider those things that surround us and what they might symbolize. Jotham was the youngest son who came out from hiding and pronounced the story. Low-growing trees were invited, writes Lockyer, “olive, fig, vine and bramble, to wave to and fro over the loftier trees such as the cedar.” The olive tree is fat with the most valuable oil and food; the fig tree is sweet and provides shelter. The cedar is the tallest, with a brilliant quality of wood; the vine cheers with grapes and wine; the bramble, however, has no fruit, no shelter, only good for the fire. The people still did not repent, and Abimelech ruled for another three years. Ugh.

Did you know the Lord was crucified upon a dogwood tree? They did not want Him to rule either. “We will not have this man reign over us! Crucify Him!” The bramble brings fire and great tribulation. The fire will devour them. Lockyer writes, “And then (when the Lord comes back) the fatness, the sweetness and the cheer of the trees will bless Israel and make her a blessing; through the One who died on the cursed Tree” (p. 36).

Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese

I learned from Elizabeth Lesser (The Seeker’s Guide, pg. 397), that “When Bishop Desmond Tutu introduced Nelson Mandela at his inauguration … he described him as a man who had obuntubotho … the essence of a human being. It speaks of humanness, gentleness, putting yourself out for others and being vulnerable, embracing compassion and toughness.” I would add that he was a man of shalom, one for whom things were as they ought to be. This would be our goal, our calling – our obuntubotho.

Lent has stirred us, challenged us, or gone quickly and unremarkably. Dionysius the Areopagite (5-6C CE), though his real identity remains unknown, as do his exact writing dates. He was known for ‘the rapt impotence of the mind before God,’ a spirituality of self-emptying. To discover the essence of the human person is to find this spirit of the Christ, the anointed One, and not to pay so much attention to ourselves. Did you come to know Jesus better this Lent? Did you discover what Jesus has done for you and what you are called to do for others? Are you willing to surrender all and enter the darkness?

Dionysius writes, “Entering the darkness that surpasses understanding, we shall find ourselves brought, not just to brevity of speech, but to perfect silence and unknowing.” And what good is that you ask? Well, in that silence, the fullness of God resides! He goes on, “Emptied of all knowledge, man is joined in the highest part of himself, not with any created thing, nor with himself, nor with another, but with the One who is altogether unknowable, and in knowing nothing, he knows in a manner that surpasses understanding.” Once we have let go of ourselves, entered into prayer and silence, we can move to be of some small service to others.

In the Pirke Avot 5:27 (a collection of rabbinic sayings compiled between 250 and 275 CE), though many sages lived long before and very little is known about them. They seem to “speak in one great sane voice of the necessity of enacting holiness and making prayer real in the service of others, bringing things into harmony.” (Wisdom of the Jewish Sages, Rabbi Rami Shapiro, 1993). Here is an example:
“Ben Hei Hei said: Effort is its own reward.

“We are here to do. And through doing to learn; and through leaning to know; and through knowing to experience wonder; and through wonder to attain wisdom; and through wisdom to find simplicity; and through simplicity to give attention; and through attention to see what needs to be done.”

What have you discovered that needs to be done? Wash, rinse, repeat … deal with your family issues, care for a sick neighbor, tutor a child, give money to a disaster fund or children’s hospital. You have found the one that works for you. Lent helps us find the one best suited to us.

Consider all the ways Jesus was a man of prayer and service! A man of shalom … everything about Him spoke of the deep relationship He had with the Father, so that he might do the work the Father had given Him. That gives us clues as to how we might grow. Even if we can list the seven deadly sins, the beatitudes, and the commandments, they are worthless if we do not want to allow shalom to fill our lives. We grow by prayer and action.

Mother Teresa, the saint of the slums, did not have an easy life. After she had gone back to God, folks opened her diaries and found great darkness and difficulty, and some even complained that she should ‘not be considered a saint.’ Really? No, it was her suffering and surrender that brought her ever deeper into God’s heart so that she might minister to those in distress. She gave us this to help remind us: “Loving as He loves, helping as He helps, giving as He gives, serving as He serves, rescuing as He rescues, being with Him twenty-four hours, touching Him in His distressing disguise.” It is that disguise that we have to pay attention to. Just as we could be ‘entertaining angels.’ we might also be serving Jesus in distress. There is still time to allow Lent to be moments of deep conversion and a new beginning, well on the way to shalom, on the way to obuntubotho.

Joseph Campbell, the philosopher, reminded Elizabeth Lesser that “from sacrifice comes bliss.” She says, “that is a liberating concept if learned from the real-life experience of following one’s heart.”
Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese

I have a habit of trying to learn new words every few days. I am not always successful, but here are two I learned on an art app: polloglyphs and pareidolia. The first means hidden images and the second is seeing patterns in randomness. Though they were used to describe an ongoing argument amongst art critics about Jackson Pollock’s work and whether he had things hidden beneath his famous drips, I think they are words that will ‘preach!’

Into Lent, we are confronted with the pain and reality of the Passion of Jesus and our passion. Perhaps we can look for hidden images and some patterns of randomness in suffering, ours and the world.
A few weeks ago, in our readings at Mass, we explored Sirach, a book not found in non-Catholic Bibles and not included in the Hebrew Bible either after the first century. It has always been considered divinely inspired and canonical by Catholics. I have always found it soothing and reassuring. It was written somewhere between 200-175 BCE in Hebrew by Jesus, son of Eleazar, son of Sirach, primarily to present moral teaching to catechumens and the faithful.

The opening strophe, “All wisdom comes from the Lord and with God remains forever,” (1:1) suggests there are things to uncover. “True wisdom is God’s external revelation of Himself. Throughout the book, Sirach describes in great detail just what wisdom is: sometimes it is divine, sometimes a synonym for God’s law; sometimes it is human. But the author makes clear that even human wisdom, properly understood, comes from God.” (footnote, 1:1, NAB)

The revelation of God permeates all things … nature that surrounds us, the universe and the myriad of artistic galaxies, the faces of children, the workers and entertainers, and even ourselves have many hidden images, woven daily as we journey, as we cast off the false self. One of the ways our false self is put away and our transformed true selves emerge is through friendship. Sirach has a bit to say about that. Consider chapter 6.

For Lent you may have given up chocolate, TV, beer, or scanning your phone every three seconds, … consider giving in, giving more, giving, and in that giving, changing … establishing a new friendship! You might discover hidden images; possibly experience pareidolia, those patterns in the randomness of the human condition. Friendship can begin in many ways. Look about when you attend church or a ballgame or an art class. Consider the folks there. Who would I like to get to know? Who would I choose to become friends with? What are your criteria? What are you willing to risk?

That’s one way. But what if you first prayed and asked God to put a new person in your path? What if you asked God to open your heart to folks who are not like you? Oh my. Where would I meet such a person, you wonder, when the church I go to is all the same, as is my grocery store, school or golf course. Where can I meet someone of another faith, ethnic background or age? Where can I learn something new or be challenged in my well-organized heart?

The art argument I mentioned implied that Pollock painted things under his drips, and that if you stared long enough, you would see them. If you paid enough attention, you would see the randomness hidden beneath. If we go with that, how about what happens when we meet a new person … a person so unlike us in gender, color, education or marital status? What wisdom do we need to explore a new relationship?

One difficulty is perhaps that we already have an imagination or thoughts about ‘those kind of people’ … and now when we meet x or y we find those ideas challenged. Those very ideas cause us to review how open or closed our hearts are. Sirach reminded us that all wisdom comes from God. Wisdom is needed in friendship; how do we move in this new way? How do we eat new food, appreciate different clothing, or listen to political or religious differences, and gain wisdom, our growth goal? How do we learn to love?

Perhaps you read Judy Blume’s books? In “Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret,” she writes, “I like long hair, tuna fish, the smell of rain and things that are pink. I hate pimples, baked potatoes, when my mother’s mad, and religious holidays.” This may be her wisdom as an eight- or nine-year-old, but will she stay stuck to those notions or be able to go beyond them and discover what is hidden within?

Lent offers so many opportunities to shed false selves and to allow our true-Godly self to emerge. We can splash around or sit in a puddle and need a time out, or we can be reminded that others and their wisdom and generosity can help us grow. We can indeed learn to love in a whole new way. In John 15:15ff Jesus makes this clear: “This is My command: Love one another the way I have loved you. … put your life on the line for your friends. You are My friends because I’ve let you in on everything I’ve heard from the Father. You didn’t choose Me; I chose you and put you in the world to bear fruit.” (Peterson, “The Message”) So, choose.

BLESSINGS.

(Sister alies therese is a vowed Catholic solitary who lives an eremitical life. Her days are formed around prayer, art and writing. She is author of six books of spiritual fiction and is a weekly columnist.)

From the Hermitage
By sister alies therese
Not long until we purple-up and turn our attention more intentionally to the Passion of Jesus. In our tradition, we fast, pray, and give alms and are convinced that we shall make progress, and our improvement will bring holiness. Really? An earlier tradition taught this:
Baal Shem Tov (Poland, d. 1760) (a Hasid or ‘pious one’) taught, “A person of piety complained to the Master, saying, ‘I have labored hard and long in the service of the Lord, and yet I have received no improvement. I am still an ordinary and ignorant person.’ And the Master answered, ‘Ah, yes, but you have gained the realization that you are ordinary and ignorant and that in itself is a worthy accomplishment, is it not?’”

Will I ever be ‘meeked?’ A horse is not meeked to take away its power … no, it is to harness it, moving the animal’s heart from independence to loyalty. In 2019 Maleah (internet) wrote, “Meekness is a superpower developing a focused deliberate center.” This center is our place of prayer and an attitude of meekness reminds us of who our center is.

“To pray is to pay attention to something or someone other than oneself. Whenever one so concentrates attention … and completely forgets the ego, they are praying.” (W.H. Auden, Prayer the Nature of, A Certain World, 1970)

‘Meeking a horse’ comes from Old English and Old Norse. Injukr means gentle … and way back to the Greek praus meaning strength under control. Focused and deliberate. Strong under control.

Behavioral aspects give us a few clues as to how we are doing and though we may remain ignorant and ordinary we can check our tempers, hold back a bad word, or show an engaging smile rather than a wrinkly frown. Aristotle remarked a “praus person has the virtue of the mean between two extremes. The person submits or constrains power for greater effect on self and others.”

Prayer is essential, for to lower oneself before the magnificence of God is to allow ourselves to be meeked into wholesome submission, being transformed moment by moment into the gentleness of God. Another way we express this deliberate and controlled behavior is to let others speak … you listen, and as Carnegie remarked, “do what’s needed.” Sometimes we do not pay attention to what is needed, thinking we can be holy our way. A Sufi story teaches, “There are those in winter who, calling themselves religious say, ‘I shall not wear warm clothes. I shall trust in God’s kindness to protect me from the cold.’ But these people do not realize that the God who created cold has also given human beings the means to protect themselves from it.’”

What do the Scriptures say about being ‘meek?’ Consider both Psalm 37 and Matthew 5:5ff. In Psalm 37 we understand that the meek are the anawim, those overwhelmed by want thus their complete dependence upon God. “Quiet down before God and be prayerful before Him. Don’t bother with those who climb the ladder, who elbow their way to the top. Bridle your anger, trash your wrath, cool your pipes — it only makes things worse.” (Peterson, Psalm 37, The Message)

When Matthew picks these notions up and includes them in the beatitudes, we hear the call of ‘slow to anger,’ ‘gentle with others’ and not striving but accepting. “You are blessed when you are content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” (Peterson, MT 5:5, The Message). We are patiently learning to trust and to build up nourishing connections. As with that horse, we develop a partnership.

“Pray simply. Do not expect to find in your heart any remarkable gift of prayer. Consider yourself unworthy of it. Then you will find peace. Use the empty, dry coldness of your prayer as food for your humility.” (St. Makari of Optino) We have the opportunity each day to grow in meekness as we deepen, pray and do what is needed. That is our journey, and we need to make good friends with our horses.

“Grow up gentle and good and never learn bad ways; do your work with goodwill, lift your feet up when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play.” (Anna Sewell, Black Beauty).
BLESSINGS.

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
For many the outcome of the election is a disaster … for others a great boon. If you are a political geek (like me) you will have paid attention to speeches, debates and anything else that would show the how, when, where’s of it all. ‘Do no harm’ seems a requisite for the move forward.

You know there is nothing worse than losing (for the losers) and nothing more joyful and puffing up than winning (for the winners). There are so many in between who didn’t even participate and for them it is ho-hum, as usual, who cares? “The humiliation of living somewhere between knee socks and support hose served as another reminder that the secrets I try hardest to conceal are the one most often exposed.” (Tina Krause, Embarrassing Moments, 2008). We will soon discover the ‘secrets’ and be exposed to what has been ‘concealed’. Well, who cares are the most vulnerable and those with no sense of humor. Don’t get me wrong … elections matter and there’s nothing funny about them … but in the outcomes we might need a deep breath or two.

“Humor is a divine quality, and God has the greatest sense of humor of all. He must have otherwise He wouldn’t have made so many politicians.” (MLK, Jr.) You have to wonder what would bring out a certain joy (maybe that it’s over?) in the public (especially the losers). What is the answer to a miserable look forward when one was so sure of another outcome? Are you kidding me is the response of some, and don’t be a sore loser that of the others.

One thing that struck me as funny was how there was very little or no ‘cheating’. Did you notice that? Is politics just a mugs game or is governing a sacred duty? Who are the leaders we elect?

“Asked about his position on whiskey, a Congressman replied:” ‘if you mean the demon drink that poisons the mind, pollutes the body, desecrates family life, and inflames sinners, then I’m against it. But, if you mean the elixir of Christmas cheer, the shield against winter chill, the taxable potion that puts needed funds into public coffers to comfort little crippled children, then I’m for it. This is my position, and I will not compromise!” (Rev. Karl Kraft, New Jersey, 1999)

We need a bit of therapy just now … winners and losers both to bring back some sense of a common good. Is there such a thing? I think there is and no matter where one fell, winner or loser, striving to make sure the most vulnerable are at the heart is critical. Resentment festers. “Laughter is God’s medicine; the most beautiful therapy God ever gave humanity.” (anon)

Regular life, just our day to day causes us to consider how much we need heart therapy. “The washing machine overflows, your toddler comes down with the chicken pox, the septic system quits, and you still have casserole to prepare and tables to decorate for the big family reunion you promised to host in your home the next day. It is tough to smile at times like these. Most of us would prefer to stay in bed, pull the sheets over our head, and refuse to budge until things get better. Yet when life’s irritants bug us more than a swam of pesky mosquitoes and troubles spread faster than cold germs, laugher is what we need the most … humor is heart therapy.” (Tina Krause, 2008) What that therapy looks like will vary but I think it matters who we think about and who we pray for. Who needs our laugh?

As we move toward Thanksgiving Day and for some that dreadful dinner where politics, religion and other hot button issues are either exaggerated or ignored, let’s try to put things in perspective.

“A Sunday school teacher asked her class about the meaning of Easter. A little boy raised his hand and said, ‘that’s when we shoot off firecrackers and celebrate our freedom!’ A little girl said, ‘no that’s when we eat the turkey and give thanks.’ ‘I know,’ a third youngster exclaimed, ‘that’s when Jesus comes out of the tomb … but if He sees his shadow, He goes back in.’“ (Father Harry Winter, OMI, 1999)

Life might just be a little bit like that for a while. We will have many opportunities to lighten up the situation as well as delve deeply into the pros and cons as we move into the holidays. So, I wish you all the opportunity of giving thanks for all things as Paul teaches and to be grateful for your pastor!

“A new pastor, eager to make sure the church’s employees would like him, called them together shortly before Thanksgiving Day approached and told them that each of them would receive a turkey. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘as long as I’m around you will always have a turkey.’ “ (Msgr. Charles Dollen, The Priest, 1999)
Blessings.

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)