Lucy (about the glass coaster on the coffee table): “It’s made out of whack!”
Apparently in reference to my just calling something “wacky”.
Monthly Archives: February 2010
How peculiar…
“The Lord, your God, has chosen you from all the nations on the face of the earth to be a people peculiarly his own.”
-Deuteronomy 7:6
This was part of the reading of the Morning Office today, and it really struck me. Forgive me if I stretch the translation a little! You might think, hearing that God’s people are “peculiar” I would be a little concerned. But no, this is actually comforting to me, because I’ve been feeling a little peculiar lately. Mostly when I’m out in public. For example, when at a Catholic schools week dinner, the Ave Maria melts seamlessly, without even a breath of pause, into the Pledge of Allegiance, complete with gigantic waving flag on the projector screen. I know that I blanched at the juxtaposition of the two; it was like being punched in the gut. And once the whiteness passed, I wondered how I could sit in a room and continue to smile and make small talk.
Re-membering
“My great-great-grandmother, great-grandmother, grandmother, mother are all alive for me because they are part of my story. My children and grandchildren and I tell stories about Hugh, my husband. We laugh and we remember–re-member. I tell stories about my friend, the theologian Canon Tallis, who was far more than my spiritual director, with whom I had one of those wonders, a spiritual friendship. I do not believe that these stories are their immortality–that is something quite different. But remembering their stories is the best way I know to have them remain part of my mortal life. And I need them to be part of me, while at the same time I am quite willing for them all to be doing whatever it is that God has in mind for them to do. Can those who are part of that great cloud of witnesses which has gone before us be in two places at once? I believe that they can, just as Jesus could, after the Resurrection.”
It wasn’t a VW bus, was it?
“There was a time when good academic qualifications guaranteed a job, but not any more. One reason is academic inflation. In the next 30 years, more people worldwide will be gaining academic qualifications than since the beginning of history. But as more people get them, their currency value is falling sharply. A university degree used to be an open sesame to a professional position. The minimum requirement for some jobs is now a Master’s degree, even a PhD. What next? But there is a second problem. Many companies are facing a crisis in graduate recruitment. It’s not that there aren’t enough graduates to go around; there are more and more. But too many don’t have what business urgently needs: they can’t communicate well, they can’t work in teams and they can’t think creatively. But why should they? University degrees aren’t designed to make people creative. They are designed to do other things and often do them well. But complaining that graduates aren’t creative is like saying, “I bought a bus and it sank”.
Captain’s Prayer
When we were at Tulane, and I went to daily Mass at the Tulane Catholic Center, there was an elderly gentlemen who came sometimes whom I only knew as “Captain”. I don’t know his name, or any part of his story. His face looked like he had been injured during his service, or it could have been scars from surgery, or cancer, I don’t know because I never asked. He walked with a cane, and when he finally stopped coming to Mass I think I remember hearing that it was because the steps to the upper room chapel had finally become too much for him.
16-year-olds are people too?
“There is a natural and accepted view that one of the main purposes of education is to prepare young people directly for a place in the labour market. Obviously, general education should do this. But there are two complications. First, thinking of education as a preparation for something that happens later can overlook the fact that the first 16 or 18 years of a person’s life are not a rehearsal. Young people are living their lives now. What they become and what they do later depends on the attitudes and abilities they develop as they are growing up. Linear assumptions about supply and demand can and do cut off many potentially valuable and formative experiences on the grounds of utility.”
Merton and Day
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?
