Tags
blessing, Book of Hours, conscience, contradictions, Holy Week, light, Peace, sorrow, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Thomas Merton, torment, will
Having nothing of merit to say on this Tuesday of Holy Week, I search Thomas Merton for a worthy word. Although he never disappoints, I find myself looking unsuccessfully for something soothing to counteract the sorrow of what is to come as this week progresses. I settle for an admission of God’s greatness (the only safeguard for us in distress) and the necessity of surrender if we are to take up our role and responsibility in concert with God.
Almighty and merciful God, Father of all, Creator and Ruler of the Universe, Lord of History, whose designs are inscrutable, whose glory is without blemish, whose compassion for the errors of men is inexhaustible, in your will is our peace.
Resolve our inner contradictions, which now grow beyond belief and beyond bearing. They are at once a torment and a blessing: for if you had not left us the light of conscience, we would not have to endure them.
Grant us to seek peace where it is truly found! In your will, O God, is our peace! (Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours, p. 107-108)
Sitting here this morning taking inventory of my thoughts and feelings I found only loss. First, I was faced with a message from a friend about her mother’s passing. It was not an unexpected message but monumental, of course, especially for someone who has been a loving caretaker for a long time. Then I read less serious news of dashed Olympic hopes in skiing and skating. Americans who seemed destined to win by the agreement of the entire world failed miserably and one wonders what role the expectations of everyone had in the results.
8:27AM EDT: As we come round again to the beginning of the traditional work week (if such a concept even exists any more) I think of people who have already arrived at their offices or factories – or those who are just climbing into bed after finishing the night shift. I remember what it was like to wait outside every morning for my ride to school where teachers were expected by 8:00AM and how cold it was in January or how hurried I was on the rare mornings that I overslept. Now my schedule is so diverse that my most precious possession has become my calendar! Keeping track of what day it is and where I need to be at what time can become a tricky task some days! Mostly I just think of how lucky I am to have work that is usually of my own choosing which feeds my spiritual self and is also in service to others.
This morning I read the Wednesday “Day” section of Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours (since it’s rather too late for the “Dawn” thoughts). I was struck by the relevance of what seemed so appropriate to our present situation. Merton was writing letters in the 1960s that were eventually gathered and published in a book entitled The Hidden Ground of Love. He had been ordered by his superiors to cease publishing anything on war and peace and so privately circulated a series of mimeographed “Cold War Letters,” many of which appear in the above-mentioned text. It’s clear that monks were supposed to be more concerned with peace than with the disconcerting issues that block the path to that peace. Merton was not willing to be silenced because his words would disturb the image of “the holy monk.”
When I was teaching school, this used to be an important day for me as it still is for many folks. The Wednesday after Labor Day sees our young people returning to school after their long summer vacation. It isn’t the same everywhere in our country. In some places, school has been in session for weeks but in those places dismissal for the summer also happens earlier, primarily because of the heat, I think. Right now it seems that some young people will not return to their schools at all this year; the schools are no longer habitable because of Hurricane Harvey. What will become of them, I wonder, for many reasons. Some will likely be home-schooled. Some may be shuttled to other locations. That happened in my own town after a flood in 2011. A Catholic parish school that had been closed and used for other parish functions was given back its identity for two years while a new school was built. Will the youth of Texas be so lucky as to find schooling together with their familiars?
Although Saturday can be a day to catch up on all sorts of mundane tasks and chores, occasionally I savor the opportunity for a bit of leisurely delving into reflection on something found in one of the many alluring books on my shelves. This morning I returned to Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours, noting that I had not visited with him – or mentioned him here – for quite some time. Rather than quotes from his various texts, Saturday’s entries in Kathleen Deignan’s book of Merton’s writings are all parts of his amazing prose poem, Hagia Sophia (Holy Wisdom).
My mind feels this morning like oil on a frying pan that has heated enough to be jumping around like the Mexican jumping beans of my childhood. The thoughts are going as fast as the ticker tape headlines across the bottom of a television screen and, because of their speed, are gone before I can latch onto their meaning at all! So I open Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours for Thursday and find this description of me:
This morning I found a quote in Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours that I hope to remember as the day progresses. It is in his Wednesday reflections at dusk, so I thought that if I kept it in my heart and consciousness all day, maybe I could say the same as life unfolds and I arrive at evening. It’s a new way to pay attention to the events of the day, a “holy expectation” perhaps – at least worth a try. Here is what he says:
