It fits my purpose here well, in terms of my belief that the purpose of existence is the expansion of love.

And it also fits well with my Franciscan vocation if you assume that quiet is synonymous with simple.

1 Thessalonians 4:9-12 

“Now about your love for one another we do not need to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love each other.  And in fact, you do love all of God’s family throughout Macedonia. Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do so more and more, and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.”

As the father of three boys, I have spent some time coaching my sons and their teammates on the basketball court and the baseball field.  This quotation reminds me specifically of the way I like to talk about pitching.

When they are young, we spend lots of time working on the fundamentals of pitching mechanics.  The kids learn how to grip the ball, how to drop step, pivot, and reach a high balance point, how to separate their hands and drop and glide with their lead foot, how to achieve the right arm angle and release point, and finally how to finish in a good fielding position.

All these fundamental skills are important in learning how to pitch.  But inevitably you get to a point where the kids can execute these skills fairly well, but they still have trouble throwing strikes.

The problem is, they haven’t learned to focus on their target yet.

That target is not the strike zone, or even the catcher’s mitt.  I want them to focus on just the webbing in the catcher’s mitt so that the target is as small as possible.  (Aim small, miss small, to quote Mel Gibson in The Patriot.)

Then I tell them, “Trust your fundamentals, and take all your momentum, all your energy, your entire being, and use that to hit your target.”

Once they learn this focus, then they start throwing strikes consistently.

The point is, you could read this blog and learn all the fundamentals of prayer that I suggest.  You could memorize them and repeat them back to me exactly as I wrote them, and that would be great.

But if you’re not focused on loving God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind, then your prayer experience will still be lacking.

Somehow, the basic idea of love as the environment you live in must become part of your underlying approach to life and prayer.

Because if everything you do doesn’t have love for God at its center, you will never find contentment in prayer, or in your life in general.

I had been discussing Gazing when I left off, and I will get back to that momentarily, but as I reviewed the past posts on the thread I realized something I had written for another project would fit nicely into the earlier discussion on love.

I am simply adding that here, even though it might read a little funny out of context:

The term “radical love” is, I think, open to a wide range of interpretation.  Each of us, after spending some time in meaningful prayer, could come up with our own definition, and many if not all of those definitions would be viable.

Such is the vastness of God.

I think I would be remiss if I did not venture my own definition at this stage in an effort to further define the vision this document means to cast.

“Radical love” for me entails a conscious decision to offer everything I have in a spirit of uncompromising love to my fellow man without regard to my fellow’s worthiness or his response.  It requires that I give freely, without reservation or concern, while at the same time expecting nothing in return.

I offer everything out of the realization that God loves every other man and woman on this earth just as much as He loves me.  The assertion that we are created equal is based in this belief.

My responsibility boils down to a duty to emulate God’s love to the best of my ability.  I must, if I do nothing else in the time I spend here, make the attempt to love every other man and woman on this earth as much as God loves me.  Jesus, in John 13:34, specifically gives us this instruction.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

It seems so simple.  Yet it also seems so absent.

Again, I say this:

The willing acceptance of the Cross by Jesus is, without question, the greatest example of “radical love” the world has ever experienced.  There’s nothing else that comes close.

He accepted the Cross in order to ensure our salvation.

He did it without reference to worthiness, for we are sinners, utterly unworthy of His sacrifice.  Not only did He not reference our response, but He knew that our response would be mired in sin and thus inadequate.  He ignored that certainty and loved us anyway.  He expected nothing in return, for in our sinfulness, we have nothing to offer that He needs.

He gave freely, without reservation or concern.

This is also what I wish to do.  I wish to give freely, without regard to worthiness, or response, or expectation of return, in as close an emulation of the “radical love” of the Cross as I can muster.

And I hope and ask that you will join me and do the same, for my impact, by itself, can’t amount to much.

But the impact of many, joined in a community dedicated to this idea of “radical love,” could be immeasurable.

The connection between the two is the Cross.

Ilia quotes St. Bonaventure from The Perfection of Life:

“Anyone who wishes to keep the flame of ardor alive within oneself should contemplate in one’s heart Christ dying on the Cross…..He withstood all these sufferings to set you aflame with love for him, to move you in return to love him with your heart, soul and mind.  We are invited to love him and in loving him to follow his example.”

Christ endured the Cross, at least in part, so that we would Desire Him above all else.

Bonaventure talks of contemplating Christ dying in the Cross, but the skill of contemplation is a difficult one.  It takes time to learn.

Gazing is different.  Gazing starts today, with no instruction, no preparation at all.  It will get more intricate as it progresses, until somewhere it crosses the line into contemplation.

But at the beginning, it is perfectly fine to just sit and look.  It is fine to just occupy the same space as Jesus, and to have no agenda other than to be with Him.

Today is Ash Wednesday.  The trek through Lent that starts today leads inexorably to Good Friday and the Cross.

As Lent begins, just be still, and gaze upon the Cross, with no preconceptions whatsoever.

Be quiet.

Be blank.

Let the Cross speak to you.  Let the Cross take you wherever it will.

Do that patiently for forty days, not hoping for anything other than to just be with Jesus as He occupies the Cross.

He will communicate with you.  He will make it clear why He is there.  The love that you recognize in Him will astound you.  You will be shocked that anyone could love you so much that they would endure what He endured.

By the time Good Friday arrives, I guarantee that your desire to return the love of Jesus will be overwhelming.

You won’t be able to contain it, nor will you be able to express it.

Its unavoidable.

Its fantastic.

Try it.

A couple quotes to consider:

“We can say that God is like a beggar of love waiting at the soul’s door without ever daring to force it.  God becomes powerless before human freedom.  He cannot violate it because it flows from his own omnipotence.  In other words, God created us free and cannot take back the gift of freedom he has given.”

and,

“God risks the eternal ruin of of His creation in order that it may attain its greatest potential — loving union with God………We are free to love God, but because we are free we must constantly choose God.  Perhaps it would be easier if God simply made decisions for us — but then we would not have freedom…….God would be like a dictator or a tyrant…….The greatest gift of the human person is not the ability to think but the freedom to love.”

Sometimes I wonder why anybody has trouble understanding the presence of evil in the world.  Voluminous works are dedicated to explaining that presence.  Yet, I have long believed the answer to be clear and simple.

Ilia captures that answer here.

God desires the expansion of love so much that He rejects His own power and refuses to interfere as we make our decisions, for better or worse.

His conviction is so strong that He is willing to risk the entirety of creation on the bet that ultimately, we will embrace the desire to love Him as He has written it in our hearts.

When we embrace the desire to love Him, we respond favorably to His will.

When we embrace the desire to love ourselves, we do the opposite, and evil is the result.

Evil exists because love requires freedom.  In essence, evil is a necessary evil.

As I stated at the beginning, God’s purpose in creation is the expansion of love.

How well that purpose is fulfilled depends entirely on how we structure our desires.

As we walked through an area of hills and valleys, we came upon the ruins of a City sitting atop the very highest hill.  There was a ghost of a path leading up the slope to the ruins.  We turned away from the road and walked up the path.

As we wandered among the ruins my friend described to me the former splendor of the City.  He spoke of the great walls and towers that defended the City.  He told me of the beauty of a temple made from imported granite and the bustle of a busy marketplace filled with vendors calling out their wares.  He pointed out the location of the wealthy housing district in a standing grove of fruit trees, and he described the hovels of the poor that sat against the perimeter walls adjacent to the barracks where the City’s defenders slept.  Then we quenched our thirst amidst the ruins of a great fountain that was built above the spring that supplied the City with water.

Back outside the gate, my friend explained to me the disposition of the army of besiegers who destroyed the City.  He pointed out the location of the command tent.  Hundreds of campfires from the troops became visible as he described how the army would have looked at night to the residents of the City.  He spoke of battering rams, and siege towers, and the catapults that were used to reduce the once great walls to rubble.  All the details of the battle came clear as we looked out over the valley below the hilltop.

Finally he asked me to turn once again to the gate.  He described the scene after the battle, and I could envision oxen led carts filled with the wealth of the City emerging from the gate.  And even more disturbing, I saw the survivors of the City being led through the gate in chains, bound for slavery in the home country of the attackers.

And then he told me this:

“The City is a man.  And the attacking army is the same man.  Each act of sinfulness on the part of the man is like a catapult launched at the walls or a blow from the battering ram on the face of the gate.

The young man besieges himself with sin until his defenses are destroyed.

And then the devil enters the heart of the man unopposed, and he binds the man in slavery to sin, and he carries him off to do his bidding for all eternity.”

I asked in reply, “Is there no hope for the man to return from his exile and rebuild the City, and thus to free himself from the slavery of sin?”

And my friend answered, “There is always hope.  There is even great assistance available to the man to help him gain his freedom.  But before he is able to call on that assistance, he must recognize his circumstance.  All too often, the man never realizes or refuses to accept that he has been captured, so he never desires his freedom.”

And then my friend rose, and I followed him down the ghost of a path to the main road, and we continued on our journey.

Tunic Worn by St. Francis

As I continue to work my way through Ilia’s chapter on Desire, this text becomes the next focal point:

“….when Francis heard the gospel passage, “they should not keep gold or silver or money in their belts, nor have a wallet for their journey, nor two tunics, nor shoes, nor staff (Matthew 10:9), he exclaimed “This is what I want, this is what I long for with all my heart.”  The desire of Francis’ heart was fulfilled in the hearing of the gospel and impelled him to change………We see, in the life of Francis, that desire generates desire.  The fulfillment of his heart’s desire in hearing the gospel caused him to desire a new way of life, the life of a poor mendicant.”

It is important to understand that Desire leads to change.  No one exists without Desire, and because of that, no one is ever stagnant in their personal journey.

Desire is always pushing me toward either growth or regression.

The negative side of Desire is that it can be the root of sin.  If I get wrapped up in Desires that are focused on personal gratification, personal gratification is what I will pursue.

But the example of Francis suggests another way, the way centered on growth.  Francis sought positive input through the gospels, and was rewarded with Desires of such intensity that his path led to sainthood.

I don’t know that I would have put it in this context until just now, but I have learned from that example, and this blog is the evidence.  I, like Francis, am immersing myself in the Gospels, reading a single chapter most weeks, and recording my meditations here as a witness for anyone who might find it.

I don’t expect sainthood to be the result.  I humbly submit that I spent far too much time regressing to ever find my way to the path that Francis walked.

But perhaps, if I am graced with enough strength to align my desires with God’s will and not my own, I might have some slight chance to live out the theme of this blog.

Please God, give me such Desires that You will

“Embolden in me the courage to follow You, completely,”

or at least as completely as I am capable of doing.

Sniper Ghillie Suit

About two weeks ago, I wrote the post The Well of Desire as an introduction to the Desire spoke of the Transformation Wheel.  Then I read Matthew Chapter 13, and I veered into a discussion on the contextual meaning of the word “everything” in the parable of the pearl.

Today, as I started back into the chapter on Desire in Ilia’s Book, I conveniently found her talking about both topics.

“If we desire love and wholeness, then we need to take our desires seriously.  We need to pay attention to our desires for they are the deepest cravings within us.  In our Western materialistic culture, we tend to desire passing things, things that are material in nature — “its.”  But the desire that is life giving is a desire for a “Thou” — God.”

I have a son who is a freshmen in High School.

I speak to him often about being aware of his passions.  I want him to be aware of his innermost desires, because I want him to use them to shape his life.  I want his desires to establish his vocation, because I think that gives him the best possible chance at happiness.

To his credit, he has taken this advice seriously.  He dreams of going to West Point, of becoming a Ranger, and he organizes his life with that goal in mind.  He understands his grades matter now, and he finished the first semester of his high school career with straight A’s.  He also pursues athletics and other activities in an effort to build a resume that will allow him to compete for entry into an academy.

He sees this is an honorable choice, because it will place him in a position of service to his fellow man.  I agree, and I am willing to help him achieve this goal in any way I can.

But, at fifteen, he is not yet capable of understanding what “service to his fellow man” means.

He thinks, for instance, that “its” play a large role in preparing to serve.

He is currently obsessed with getting a Ghillie Suit.  We agreed this would be his main Christmas present, and he helped place the order.  He then proceeded to harass his Mom daily (in less than kindly fashion) about checking on the manufacturing status.  Once it shipped, the first words out of his mouth upon walking in the house after school are “Is it here yet !?!?”

I wish that I could get him to understand that he could begin serving right now.  He could, for instance, empty the dishwasher without being asked instead of harassing his mother about the status of his order.

I want him to understand that possession of an “it” has nothing to do with developing the qualities needed to be a good officer.  I wish he would grasp that the most important thing he can pursue right now is not excellence at being stealthy, but excellence at understanding how desire for “Thou” (God) is the source of his desire to serve.

If he would embrace the desire for “Thou” now, he could speed the process along.  He might even start developing service habits now, instead of spending every free moment playing Call of Duty: World at War on his computer, as if that somehow represented how heroes actually function in this world.

How does a father influence the desires of his fifteen year old son when the world beckons him so intently?

So far, I haven’t found that answer, other than to hope that the overall weight of my suggestions will come to bear in time.

Nicodemus

In The Aroused Heart, I noted that The Jesus Prayer would fit nicely into the concept of gazing as contained in The Transformation Wheel pathway, and I indicated that I would speak to that shortly.

If I did that immediately, however, I would skip the spoke in the wheel concerning Desire, so I’ve decided to address that subject first.  Thoughts on gazing will come soon.

Sr. Ilia Delio, OSF, in the book Franciscan Prayer, entitles her second chapter simply Desire.

In the first paragraph, she writes this:

“Recently, someone said to me, “I have no interior life.”  My immediate reaction was “that’s not true.”  Then I realized that this person lacked self awareness, for that is what the interior life is, awareness of the desires deep within us.”

I believe that Desire, at its core, is a gift of God, given to everyone.  It is always present in the heart.  Or, if you prefer a more scientific approach, it is written into our DNA.  We cannot help but Desire a relationship with God because He Desires one with us, and we are powerless to alter His Desire.

Everyone experiences unease on a regular basis.  If you are spiritual, you can probably recollect clearly the point when you stopped ignoring that unease.   Somehow, you knew you had to act upon it, find out what it meant, and follow to where it would lead you.  You may not have realized the consequences when you made that decision.  You didn’t yet know that unease would manifest itself as Desire for God.  But in the end, that conclusion was unavoidable.

If you are not spiritual, I invite you to recollection, to see if you can recall recent times when you experienced the unease I am describing, and to examine your reaction to it.  Did you push it aside as inconvenient?  Perhaps you even dreaded the consequences of pursuing it?

Without freedom, love can not form.  Freedom gives us the power to ignore our unease, to ignore our deepest Desires, and to push forward in the shallow universe that much of society currently occupies if that is our wish.

But God is also free, and He always chooses to use His freedom for love.  That unease, that Desire rooted so deeply within me that I can never dispose of it, is not going away.  God wants it there, and that’s that.

About nine years ago, my unease reached a crescendo.

I had to choose.  I could continue to face the outer world, and be distracted by it.  Or I could turn to the interior, examine what was written in my heart, and act upon that.

With the help of Grace, I looked inside.

What I found was Desire.  When I embraced that Desire, it started to shape me.  It continues to shape me to this day, and it will forever.  It is unquenchable, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The only response I can make is this, as humbly as possible:

Thank You, God, for the need and the Desire to know You.  Its a gift beyond measure.

“For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him.”

In other words, you are what you are.

You may, for a time, put up false fronts and attempt to disguise the true nature of your heart.  But in the end, contrivances can not keep up with the truth.  In human terms, your mouth will ultimately reveal what is in your heart.  In spiritual terms, not even that is necessary.  God sees your heart clearly at every moment.  Their is no hiding from Him.

If you truly wish to be a moral person, the question then becomes, how do I go about “storing up” good things in my heart?

In a welcome instance of synergy, I have already been speaking to just that question in the last couple posts, The Aroused Heart, and The Cure.

The answer is transformation through the person of Jesus.

Sr. Agnes Marie, my spiritual adviser, has a succinct yet profound way of putting this.  “You become what you gaze upon.”

If you spend lots of time watching TV, your heart is formed by desperate housewives, manipulative reality TV attention seekers, commercials designed to foster obsessive consumerism, or spoiled superstars who think they are beyond the normal rules of society.  (Sorry Tiger.)

If you spend lots of time gazing on Christ (in prayer, in scripture, on the cross, with The Jesus Prayer, in adoration, or in any of another myriad ways), then you will begin to be conformed to His image.

Unfortunately, the negative transformations seem to take place instantaneously while the positive ones are the work of a lifetime.

But that is the choice Jesus places in front of us with this particular passage.

You can store up evil, and act out of that reservoir.

Or you can make the continual effort to do as He wishes, to dwell upon Him with an ever more persistent mindfulness, and learn to store up good in your heart, so that you can at least in some small way become a reflection of Him to the world.

Hopefully, its an easy choice.