Spacious Sanctuary

Killiney Beach looking towards Dalkey Island

Our Summer is over. During July and August I was able, most early mornings, to sit and pray on Killiney Beach. As Autumn begins, and the days shorten and cool I know the memory of  praying, surrounded by sea and sky, will stay with me .

These few lines attempt to capture the gift of those Summer mornings.

My spacious sanctuary
Stretches north to
Dalkey Island, south to
Bray Head,
Sand for floor
Cloud and blue dome.

Looking east the soft sounds of sea
Accompany my psalms.
Murmuring waves bless the Lord,
Weaving gulls and preening
Cormorants sing His praise,
Morning light give Him glory.

When November days
Creep in
Dank and dark
I will recall my dawn-facing
Space, sacred and wide, and be
Wrapped again in Summer.

The Waters of Mercy

Abraham Joshua Heschel, the Polish-born American rabbi, writes beautifully of the spiritual path that is the God-given potential of every person. 

In his book, The Insecurity of Freedom, he speaks of the act of prayer as - not so much a dialogue with the Eternal - but an immersion in the "waters of mercy".

It is certainly true that as our prayer deepens it grows in simplicity. We become less active, more still and receptive to the action of the Spirit of God.

This makes for hard going. We have an innate and strong desire to be in control, even of our relationship with God.  This growth in simplicity in prayer can mean letting go of particular ways of praying that have nourished our souls in the past.

The rabbi writes: "I am not ready to accept the ancient concept of prayer as a dialogue. Who are we to enter a dialogue with God!

The better metaphor would be to describe prayer as an act of immersion, comparable to the ancient Hebrew custom of immersing oneself completely in the waters as a way of self-purification to be done over and over again.

Immersion in the waters! One feels surrounded, touched by the waters, drowned in the waters of mercy."

Summer Sabbath

During these Summer days I am still reflecting on the gift of knowing how to let go of the haste and stress that can mar my daily living.

Wayne Muller in his beautiful book, Sabbath, Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest, speaks of our need for a healthy, spiritual balance in our lives. Sabbath is not so much about a particular day as about an attitude we bring to life.

"Sabbath is not dependent upon our readiness to stop. We do not stop when we are finished. We do not stop when we complete our phone calls, finish our project, get through this stack of messages, or get out this report that is due tomorrow. We stop because it is time to stop.

Sabbath requires surrender. If we only stop when we are finished with all our work, we will never stop--because our work is never completely done. With every accomplishment there arises a new responsibility.

Every swept floor invites another sweeping, every child bathed invites another bathing. When all life moves in such cycles, what is ever finished?

The sun goes 'round, the moon goes 'round, the tides and seasons go 'round, people are born and die, and when are we finished? If we refuse rest until we are finished, we will never rest until we die.

Sabbath dissolves the artificial urgency of our days, because it liberates us from the need to be finished."

Year of St Clare

This year the feast of St Clare on 11 August is of particular importance for the Franciscan Family spread throughout the world. At this time we are celebrating 800 years since that night when this noble woman, eighteen years old, secretly left her family home and went to join Francis and his first few followers. In the little chapel of the Our Lady of the Angels in the woods below Assisi she handed her life over to God.

Clare did not know it but that simple ritual in which she knelt before Francis and consecrated herself to her Beloved was the beginning of a new way of life within the church. Before she died 42 years later there would be 115 communities of sisters in Italy and 50 outside living her Gospel vision.

That night Clare was following her heart's deepest desire. She allowed herself to be drawn by the Spirit. This woman, strong in faith and love, said a full Yes to Christ.

In time Clare was to discover, as many have before and since, that when we let God have his way with us his love works in us and through us far beyond our hoping.

Pope Benedict, speaking of Clare, wondered about the paradox of her life. Hidden within the cloister, her light shone; Clare was silent but her influence was profound.

He goes on to say: 'And this is exactly how it was, dear friends: those who change the world for the better are the holy ones, those enraptured by God's love. They transform our world permanently, instilling in it the energies that only love inspired by the Gospel can elicit. The saints are humanity's great benefactors; God's gift to the world!'

Less Rush: Summmer Slow Down

During these summer days I am sensing even more the invitation to slow down, live in the now and enjoy all that is around me.

I know from experience that the tranquil soul savours life more deeply. 

The blessings are always there, even on difficult days. The grace is to be present so that I can taste each day's sweetness.

A little poem by Eva Merriam speaks to this desire in me.

A Lazy Thought

There go the grownups
To the office,
To the store.
Subway rush,
Traffic crush;
Hurry, scurry,
Worry, flurry.
No wonder
Grownups
Don't grow up
Any more.
It takes a lot
Of slow
To grow.

Trinity Sunday

The spirituality of  St Francis is deeply Trinitarian. His writings reveal a profound awareness of even now being immersed, sharing in the Communion that is God.

The grace of his baptism had come alive in Francis in his experience.  The same awakening of the gift  is offered to each of us.

So tomorrow's feast of the Holy Trinity is not meant as a theology lesson. It stirs up in us not only a spirit of awe and adoration before the Most High, but also confidence, assurance and joy in the God who has lifted us up into his own intimate fellowship.

The Spirit of God penetrates our most intimate personal depths. From there we can cry out in love and trust: 'Abba, dear Father.'  The Spirit places us within the very rhythm of the divine life, allowing us participate personally in the love that exist between the Father and the Son.

That is why love and prayer are going on in us, at the deepest level where our spirit has been touched and enlivened by the Holy Spirit. Our prayer can seem to us such a poor thing,  so distracted, so ‘unsuccessful’. But we do not see the reality. Our prayer is one with the communion of love between Jesus and the Father, this communion which is the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit becomes the soul of our soul, the most secret part of our being, from which rises unceasingly to God a movement of prayer.

I can see why Francis and the other saints keep reminding us: be careful that your understanding of the gift is not too small, your vision too limited, your hope too paltry.

The deepest things we need are not elsewhere. We  are in God; we live in God; we journey to God in God.