Priorities

There was a monastery that was renowned for its hospitality, a welcoming place for many weary travelers in need of rest. One day while the abbot was deep in prayer, an angel appeared, surrounded by golden light. The abbot gazed in rapt contemplation and was filled with a peace beyond measure. Suddenly a series of heavy knocks resounded on the front door. "It is some weary traveler come to find shelter," the abbot said to himself. "What should I do? If I go and answer the door, the angel might disappear. If I stay, who will care for the traveler?"
Reluctantly the abbot rose, looked resignedly at the angel, and left the room in order to attend to the needs of the dust-stained traveler.
When he returned to his cell, the angel, to the abbot's great surprise, was still there. The angel said to him, "Had you not gone to help the needy traveler, I myself would have been compelled to leave."



— Joan Chittister in 40 Stories to Stir the Soul

The Spirituality of Body Talk

Talk to Your Body

The body is your only home in the universe. It is your house of belonging here in the world. It is a very sacred temple. To spend time in silence before the mystery of your body brings you toward wisdom and holiness. It is unfortunate that often only when we are ill do we realize how tender, fragile, and precious is the house of belonging called the body. When you visit people who are ill or who are awaiting surgery, you can encourage them to have a conversation with the body area that is unwell. Suggest that they talk to it as a partner, thank it for all it has done, for what it has suffered, and ask forgiveness of it for whatever pressure it may have had to endure. Each part of the body holds the memory of its own experience.

Your body is, in essence, a crowd of different members who work in harmony to make your belonging in the world possible. We should avoid the false dualism that separates the soul from the body. The soul is not simply within the body, hidden somewhere within its recesses. The truth is rather the converse. Your body is in the soul, and the soul suffuses you completely. Therefore, all around you there is a secret and beautiful soul-light.

— John O'Donohue in Anam Cara

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Animals and Us

Honor the Dignity, Beauty, and Wisdom of the Animal World

The animals are more ancient than us. They were here for millennia before humans surfaced on the earth. Animals are our ancient brothers and sisters. They enjoy a seamless presence — a lyrical unity with the earth. Animals live outside in the wind, in the waters, in the mountains, and in the clay. The knowing of the earth is in them. The Zen-like silence and thereness of the landscape is mirrored in the silence and solitude of animals. Animals know nothing of Freud, Jesus, Buddha, Wall Street, the Pentagon, or the Vatican. They live outside the politics of human intention. Somehow they already inhabit the eternal. The Celtic mind recognized the ancient belonging and knowing of the animal world. The dignity, beauty, and wisdom of the animal world was not diminished by any false hierarchy or human arrogance. Somewhere in the Celtic mind was a grounding perception that humans are the inheritors of this deeper world.

— John O'Donohue in Anam Cara

Inner Wellspring

You can never love another person unless you are equally involved in the beautiful but difficult spiritual work of learning to love yourself. There is within each of us, at the soul level, an enriching fountain of love. In other words, you do not have to go outside yourself to know what love is. This is not selfishness, and it is not narcissism; they are negative obsessions with the need to be loved. Rather this is a wellspring of love within the heart. . . .

If you find that your heart has hardened, one of the gifts that you should give yourself is the gift of the inner wellspring. You should invite this inner fountain to free itself. You can work on yourself in order to unsilt this, so that gradually the nourishing waters begin in a lovely osmosis to infuse and pervade the hardened clay of your heart. Then the miracle of love happens within you. Where before there was hard, bleak, unyielding, dead ground, now there is growth, color, enrichment, and life flowing from the lovely wellspring of love. This is one of the most creative approaches to transfiguring what is negative within us.

— John O'Donohue in Anam Cara

Anam Cara-Soul Friend

In the Celtic tradition, there is a beautiful understanding of love and friendship. One of the fascinating ideas here is the idea of soul-love; the old Gaelic term for this is anam cara. Anam is the Gaelic word for soul and cara is the word for friend. So anam cara in the Celtic world was the "soul friend."

In the early Celtic church, a person who acted as a teacher, companion, or spiritual guide was called an anam cara. It originally referred to someone to whom you confessed, revealing the hidden intimacies of your life. With the anam cara you could share your innermost self, your mind and your heart. This friendship was an act of recognition and belonging. When you had an anam cara, your friendship cut across all convention, morality, and category. You were joined in an ancient and eternal way with the "friend of your soul."

The Celtic understanding did not set limitations of space or time on the soul. There is no cage for the soul. The soul is a divine light that flows into you and into your Other. This art of belonging awakened and fostered a deep and special companionship. In his Conferences, John Cassian says this bond between friends is indissoluble: "This, I say, is what is broken down by no chances, what no interval of time or space can sever or destroy, and what even death itself cannot part."

— John O'Donohue in Anam Cara

more about this in my musings The blessings of spiritual friends

Embrace Your Inner World

Embrace the World that Lives Inside You

It is strange to be here. The mystery never leaves you alone. Behind your image, below your words, above your thoughts, the silence of another world waits. A world lives within you. No one else can bring you news of this inner world. Through the opening of the mouth, we bring out sounds from the mountain beneath the soul. These sounds are words. The world is full of words. There are so many talking all the time, loudly, quietly, in rooms, on streets, on television, on radio, in the paper, in books. The noise of words keeps what we call the world there for us. We take each other's sounds and make patterns, predictions, benedictions, and blasphemies. Each day, our tribe of language holds what we call the world together. Yet the uttering of the word reveals how each of us relentlessly creates. Everyone is an artist. Each person brings sound out of silence and coaxes the invisible to become visible.

— John O'Donohue in Anam Cara

More about John O'Donohue here and here.

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Eliot on Waiting

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

— T. S. Eliot, from “East Coker,” The Four Quartets

Impermanence

ONCE in Persia ruled a king
Who upon his signet ring
‘Graved a motto true and wise,
Which, when held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for any change or chance.
Solemn words, and these were they:
“Even this shall pass away.”

Trains of camel through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarkand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to rival these.
Yet he counted little gain
Treasures of the mine or main.
“Wealth may come, but not to stay;
Even this shall pass away.”

‘Mid the revels of his court,
In the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests,
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine,
Cried: “Oh, precious friends of mine,
Pleasure comes, but not to stay —
Even this shall pass away.”

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed
Softly to his soul he said:
“Though no bridegroom ever pressed
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay —
Even this shall pass away.”

Fighting in a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield,
Soldiers with a loud lament
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning, from his wounded side,
“Pain is hard to bear,” he cried.
“But, with patience, day by day,
Even this shall pass away.”

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his status grand in stone;
And the king, disguised, unknown,
Gazing on his sculptured name,
Asked himself: “And what is fame?
Fame is but a slow decay —
Even this shall pass away.”

Struck with palsy, sere and old,
Standing at the gates of gold,
Spake him this, in dying breath:
“Life is done, and what is death?”
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on the ring,
Answering, with its heavenly ray:
“Even death shall pass away.”

HT: Punna

Stations of the Cross (15)

JESUS IS RISEN

Where is my Lord?
They have taken Him away.
All I see is a tomb, a place that is empty.
And just when I need Him,
and long for His voice,
even His body would not wait for my tears.

Shut away in a box, He has occupied their coffin.
Shut away in a book, He fulfils, Living Word.
Shut away in our concepts, He shatters such shackles.
No prison can hold Him; no tomb thwart the miracle.
His life is our liberty; His love changed my life.
No dying can rob me of what He has given:
once blind, now I see.
Hallelujah! His promise:
‘In the day when the hearts of men
fail them for fear, then look up, little flock,
your redemption draws near.’

Let all creation
give thanks to the Risen Lord.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord!

Filled with His praises,
give thanks to the Risen Lord.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord!

He is our Shepherd, and we are His sheep.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord!

Stepping out boldly, we claim resurrection.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord!

Stations of the Cross (14)

JESUS IS LAID IN THE SEPULCHRE

Laid in a borrowed tomb, awaiting the sign of Jonah
- the only sign that would be given to His generation
- that after three days and nights in the womb of the earth,
the belly of the fish, the grave and hell,
He would come forth to do His Father’s will
- Jesus the humble Son of God, the exultant Son of Man,
the eternal contradiction, the Blessed One.
The end is not yet. Weeping endures for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.
The good news – ‘He is risen’ –
will burst on the Son-rise.

Therefore with joy shall we draw water
out of the wells of salvation.

When all is dark,
and Hope is buried,
it is hard to trust His words
that promised, before the pain:
He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.

In His death is my birth.
He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.

In His life is my life.
He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.

My Jesus! He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.

Stations of the Cross (13)

JESUS IS TAKEN FROM THE CROSS

Jesus could now feel the chill of death creeping through His tissues. And with a loud voice He cried: ‘It is finished.’ His mission of atonement had been completed. Finally, He could allow His body to die. With one last surge of strength, He once again pressed His torn feet against the nail, straightened His legs, took a deeper breath, and uttered His seventh and last cry: ‘Father, into Thy hands I commit My spirit.’ A while later, the soldier pierced a long spear into the side of the dead man, to His heart. The watery fluid and blood that flowed out show us He had literally died of a broken heart – not the usual crucifixion death of suffocation. The friends of Jesus were allowed to remove His holy body, and for a moment his mother held Him again upon her lap, cradled in her arms.

Let Him sleep now. It is finished.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet?
or thorns compose so rich a crown?
It was for me.
It was for me.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ my God.
All the vain things that charmed me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood:
It was for me.
It was for me.

Stations of the Cross (12)

JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS

As Jesus slowly sagged down with more weight on the nails in the wrists, excruciating, fiery pain shot along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain. As He pushed Himself upwards to avoid this stretching torment, He placed His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there is searing agony as the nail torn through the nerves. As the arms fatigued, great waves of cramps swept though the muscles, knotting them in deep relentless, throbbing pain. Jesus fought to raise Himself, in order to get even one short breath. ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’

To the thief dying at His side: ‘Today thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.’

To His mother and His closest friend: ‘Woman, behold thy son’ - ‘Behold thy mother.’

In the words of the psalm foretelling the death of Messiah, He cried: ‘My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?’

Father God, You waited
through the long hours of agony,
when He was robbed even
of the sense of Your love, Your presence,
when the sin and disease and hatred
and darkness overwhelmed Him so greatly.
He was wounded for my transgressions.
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Father, what love is this of His?
What love is this of Yours
that His dying love reflects?
Your forgiveness for me,
as we gaze upon His sacrificial death,
is truly an underserved gift
as the pardon He spoke to the dying thief.
It is mine if I will only receive:
He was wounded for my transgressions.
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Stations of the Cross (11)

JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS

The journey was at an end. Jesus was quickly thrown backward with his shoulders against the wood. The soldier felt for the depression at the front of the wrist; he drove a heavy, square, wrought-iron nail through the wrist and deep into the wood. Quickly he moved to the other side and repeated the action, being careful not to pull the arms too tightly. The title ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’ was nailed into place, and the crossbar lifted into position. The left foot was pressed backward against the right foot. With both feet extended, toes down, a nail was driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees moderately flexed.

The victim was now crucified.
‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’
He is our peace.

Jesus, our sin put the nails in Your hands.
It was love that held You there.
It was love that held You there.

Jesus, our sin put the nails in Your feet.
It was love that held You there.
It was love that held You there.

The soldiers hoisted Your cross on high.
You were their prisoner;
but no one took Your life away from You.
You gave it willingly, freely.
It was love that held You there.
It was love that held You there.

You were lifted high upon that cross,
even as You had prophesied when You promised;
‘I, if I be lifted up from the earth,
will draw all people to Me.’
It was love that held You there.
It was love that held You there.

Stations of the Cross (10)

JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS

At the place of death the King of life is stripped of His clothes. Naked, He came into the world; naked, He is taken from the world. Vulnerable, exposed, God became man. He was a crying helpless, dependent baby. Now, vulnerable, exposed, His heart, His life, His body all bared before the world. He will be hung up to be mocked. But God is not mocked- His very nakedness is a parable, a sacrament, a picture of the Father’s hurting heart exposed in love to us.

Lord, You were stripped of the robes You wore,
but You were the same - it didn’t change You.
Things meant little to You; You never hide behind them.
You showed us the Father’s heart,
so open and broken:
may we be open to You, and to each other.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

Lord, for our sake You left the riches of heaven
and became poor.
You came within our reach.
May we be open to You, and to each other.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

You did not hold on to even the little
You had left to call Your own.
May we be open to You, and to each other.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

The nakedness of God was exposed before the world,
Lord, O lovely Christ,
may we be open to You, and to each other.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

No robe was left now upon Your tired shoulders,
just a crown of mockery on Your head.
You are still a King.
You loved, and won rejection and pain-
but You still loved.
May we be open to You, and to each other.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

Stations of the Cross (9)

JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME

Jesus fell again. Oh God, how many times must I fall and pick up that cross again? As many as seven times? Or seventy times seven times? For ever; until this never-ending road is ended; until the impossible is completed, the unbearable borne through all eternity.

For the sake of My children. My sons. My loved ones. My bride. My people, I must go on. I will not, I must not, give up now. The way of sorrows, the way of pain, the way of self-renunciation, the way of My cross.

How long the road You came for us, Lord,
with Your smarting burden! O Lord.
Your love have no limits.
Your love have no limits.

You picked up the weight of Your cross,
the weight of our sins,
We are Your burden, an overwhelming burden;
but that burden is sweet to You
because of the love You also bear to us,
an overwhelming love.
Your love has no limits.
Your love has no limits.

Lord, I know You can forgive me:
Your love has no limits.
Your love has no limits.