So I finally did it. I went out and got myself a spiritual director. And as I was explaining to her what I’ve been doing recently in my prayer life (this was difficult and guilt inducing!) I mentioned that I had been reading a lot of Merton, and before that some Dorthy Day. Which Sister thought was an odd combination. And for half a second or so, I nearly began to correct her, and say that it wasn’t odd at all, actually, but I thought better of that and moved on. But I have kept thinking about it, and I think I was right (though the ideas are rough and not backed by specific texts at the moment – my Tulane degree is cringing as I write this!), they are really not far removed when you get down to what they each preached. Simply, love your neighbor. And that means everyone. Both felt senses of guilt for the state the world was in, based mostly on their pre-conversion lifestyles. Both argued that love of God comes to fruition in caring for other people as well and as sacrificially as we can. Merton did this with prayer behind closed doors, but there seem to be times in his writing where the thinks that if her were worth his salt, he would be out doing exactly what Dorthy Day was doing. On the other hand, Day emphasizes the need for spiritual grounding to survive the sort of work she engaged in. The two complement each other clearly. The fact that both felt they had been forgiven so much stirred both of them to charity and forgiveness, though neither ever shied to name and denounce sin wherever they found it. The honesty, often the bluntness of both of their writings shines of the desire to know and be known, to open themselves and to thereby lead their readers further down whatever their personal paths might be. Merton felt he needed the cloister to keep him from the temptations of the world, and that that sort of solitude was necessary for his salvation. But he repeats that it does not free him from the necessity of loving his neighbor, within the monastery walls or without them. The two have different methods, because of their different gifts and struggles, but one message. Love greatly, for you are greatly loved.
A Prayer to Etienne Gilson
“Please pray for me to Our Lord that, instead of merely writing something, I may be something, and indeed that I may so fully be what I ought to be that there may be no further necessity for me to write, since the mere fact of being what I ought to be would be more eloquent than many books.”
-Thomas Merton, Dialogues with Silence
I feel this way fairly often. Do you?
Quote of the week
By which I mean, “Lucy’s favorite thing to say right now.” Here it is:
“Stop sneaking me up!”
By which she seems to mean, “You’re getting on my nerves!”
A Charmed Life?
We have such beautiful girls. Samantha is fighting her molars, but at the same time she has started giving hugs and kisses, and I don’t think there is anything in the world cuter than a hug from a 14-month-old. We are truly blessed. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, with the NFP discussion going on on a friend’s blog. Some people struggle to figure out their signs and when they’re fertile, and it leads to frustration, fights, and general trouble. I, on the other hand, have a regular cycle and a hard time not knowing if I’m fertile, now that I know what to look for.
Those pesky “young adults”
This is a bit of a follow-up. I talked about the young adult meeting we went to in Baton Rouge in We Are One Body, and my suspicions have been confirmed. That night we had 10-ish people gathered from the whole diocese for what the textbook says young adults want to do: mostly fellowship, with a little prayer thrown in for kicks. This Wednesday, we had 12 or 13 (I don’t remember and don’t have time to count!) young adults from one parish - singles, married couples, college students, career folks, a great mix really – gathered to do - wait for it – service.
Goodbye, Goldilocks
I thought Lucy was still in bed yesterday morning. And I went to put away come clean paintbrushes, and was surprised to see her standing at the table in the learning room. I was even more surprised by what I noticed next:
Do you see it? The little pile there under the scissors. That’s right, Lucy reached that milestone every little girl reaches at some point in her life: her first self-imposed, clandestine haircut.
I almost cried.
But instead I laughed, and yelled, “Craig, come quick! Bring the camera!”
Babies and Sisters…
It’s amazing how kids learn. It’s so totally effortless. There are always the examples of four-year-olds casually using curse words in polite company, much to their parents’ embarrassment, or course. Yesterday, on the other hand, Lucy was walking around the house with her Fish do the Strangest Things book, standing on top of things, holding the book in front of her, and proclaiming, “A reading from Saint Paul. Babies and sisters…” I stopped in my tracks. She is clearly paying much closer attention while she wiggles away through Mass than we have been giving her credit for. (I asked about the “babies”, and she seemed to think that made more sense than “brothers”, which is understandable I guess since she has a severe lack of brothers at the moment.) Anyway, we are redoubling efforts to have such good influences and Saint Paul and his letters around, so that her osmosis can do its thing.
Kid quotes
Lucy: I can’t help pick up. It really gives me a headache.
That’s right, she skipped a few years, and is now sixteen. In case you hadn’t heard already.
More Christmas card pics
Courtesy of Taylor Newton, here are pics of her, the card Lucy made for her, and her lively Sugar Gliders.
Merton on Materialism, or, Merry Christmas to All
Now that you’re probably basking in the post-Christmas pile of, well, stuff, (as we are) here’s a little Merton to make you feel good about it all. Or not. If you don’t want to possibly feel guilty or depressed, don’t read on.
