I've read this selection from The Catechism of the Catholic Church. I apply it to many aspects of life, and for me now, pinned like a bug to a specimen board, squirming in pain and not yet dead, perhaps the aspects of contemplative prayer are akin to how the Lord Jesus would like me to be suffering.
2717 Contemplative prayer is silence, the "symbol of the world to come" or "silent love." Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love. In this silence, unbearable to the "outer" man, the Father speaks to us His incarnate Word, who suffered, died, and rose; in this silence the Spirit of adoption enables us to share in the prayer of Jesus.
I don't need to explain to you readers who have far more wits about you than I do in my bug-squirming, pained body, my head more than half out of it and just typing away rampantly. (It is a distraction but perhaps helpful one, better than a complaining tone to a neighbor when I tried to get up and go outside, using the trenching spade as a support pole.
Silence. Silent love. I do love Jesus so very much! I do think I ought repeat my lengthy, wordy vow of suffering as a sort of penance, as a means of humbling myself for I know the silence of pain, of my stilling myself despite feeling as if I am going crazy from the suffering is likely better for God, for others, and for self.
Be still. Be silent. Smile. Indeed, such silence when suffering so does seem unbearable to the "outer" man, to me. It can be that way for us humans even when not suffering. But at least a consecrated Catholic hermit--or hopefully so--finds silence not at all unbearable but quite sweet. I love silence! It is just that I have difficulty when in extreme pain not having distraction. And distraction even if silent distraction, is not really, fully silent.
You know what I mean better than I can express. I know you do!
It is a goal, a hope. Something for which to try to be: Silent in and out of suffering.
Today we celebrate the Ascension of Our Lord--well, used to be today the Holy Day of Obligation.
The Church will celebrate Christ's Ascension into Heaven on Sunday. Today it still is the Ascension. My first Ascension that I knew that it was celebrated, after I began my private instruction to be confirmed a Catholic but yet not confirmed, I decided to burn all the hate letters from my temporal ex-spouse and included a letter or two from the ex-spouse's new spouse.
Burned them in the back garden in the children's old hamster cage. (The fire department approved an in-town burn if in a metal container; I'd told them it was old letters.) As the ashes rose up into the sky, I prayed that all the hateful and untrue words written about me and to me, would be as ashes turned to graces, and would become holy as gifts given to God above.
Today, yes, perhaps I ought to offer this incessant and crazy-making pain, in the same way. It is already burning! It is burning from the nerves on fire, shooting flames in my body, simmering like coals in my lumbar spine. These sufferings are my offerings, to have them ascend with Jesus to God the Father, by means of the love and action of the Holy Spirit Who on Pentecost will renew indwelling in us all.
Each of us will celebrate this Pentecost either on earth or in heaven--and pray not hell.
Pray for silence. Pray in silence. Breathe in silence. Be stilled in silence. Suffer in silence. Jesus suffered, died, and rose. So shall we some day, some hour, some moment. Let us do so in silence of the kindling that can be pain, that will feed the fire of Christ's love. Of our love for Christ and for others. Let me love others as I love His Real Presence!
No comments:
Post a Comment