These Weeks in Madonna House - July 12-25

These weeks in Madonna House have primarily been all about the people. Our guest dorms are full up and the dining room is packed with dozens of guests, mostly short-term ones here for a week or two, and hospitality is the order of the day, every day.

The summer program is continuing to bless us all, with weeks on the themes of “Made For Love: A Christian Anthropology” and “Love Casts Out Fear: Accepting the Risk”. I forget if I’ve mentioned the basic structure of the program. Besides our normal MH life, the primary content of the thing is that MH staff give the post-lunch spiritual reading on Monday and Friday, both at the main house and the farm. Wednesday evening one of the priests gives an hour-long class presentation. Friday at supper there is a chance for our guests to reflect back what they heard during the week, and Saturday is the ever-popular Q & A session with our directors general. Other activities may happen at various points.

For example, one of our men organized a number of the guests in presenting a play based on the Tolstoy short story “Where Love Is, God Is”. This may be known to some people under its alternate title “Martin the Cobbler,” in which the titular character is told in a dream that Christ would visit him that day, spends the day watching at his window with vigilance and so ends up serving various people in need, and is sad at the end of the day that Jesus never came, only to find that He had indeed come, in the people who Martin had served. It was staged simply but very creatively, and as always our guests gave their all in acting out the various characters of the story.

The biggest event of this past week, though, was that the priest giving the Wednesday night class was our own diocesan bishop, Michael Mulhall, who we had invited to come and do something for the program on the off chance that he would be available. He was delighted to come and gave a fine talk on intimacy with Christ, overcoming the passions, and the interior journey to God that is the heart of our life. Better yet, he spent 45 minutes fielding questions from the floor, and was masterful at meeting the young people where they were and giving very good answers to them.

Of course this was the second week in a row that Bp. Mulhall came to MH, as last week’s big event was the funeral of Fr. Thomas Rowland. I was away at the Nazareth family camp and so missed it, but it was a large funeral indeed, with 34 concelebrating priests and our large St. Mary’s chapel full to overflowing. Fr. Tom had been quite an apostolic priest in the diocese of Pembroke, always ready to help out anywhere, and his gregarious personality and warmth won him friends everywhere he went. So they came from all directions to bid him farewell.

His funeral supper, fittingly, began with nachos and salsa (he was Texan!) and ended with ice cream (his favourite!). The memory night—an MH tradition where we gather to share stories about the person in a relaxed familial way—was lively, often quite funny, and touching. All in all, we gave him a good send off, it seems.

Beyond that, life here is in high gear. The first cut of hay is in, a bit earlier than normal for these parts, and we had great dry weather for that job. The gardens are in absolute high gear, and many of the above mentioned guests filling our dorms are spending their days weeding and harvesting. At supper one night, a young woman guest exclaimed excitedly at the sight of the snap peas we were eating: “I helped pick those! This is so awesome!”

At the same time, the shops are full of customers, people show up for tours daily, Cana and Nazareth continue to take up the energies of the priests and (in the case of the former) quite a few of the lay people. The addition to the farmhouse is moving right along, with the trusses being raised this past week. And no doubt there is an awful lot more going on that I am personally not aware of—this is a big place and summer is just packed with activity.

Another facet of life right now in the apostolate is one that I cannot go into great detail about. I have a policy on this blog of (generally) not mentioning names of MH people, on the firm basis that just because I’m choosing to engage in this uber-public work of blogging, they are not and so shouldn’t be plastered all over the internet just because I’m doing this thing. 

That being said, a big factor of life in MH right now is that there is a very large number of staff being transferred around right now, including some fairly major changes in houses—new directors being appointed and so forth. I can’t go into the details, but those who receive our paper Restoration can read all about it there. It’s quite a time of transition for many in the apostolate, though. All in the midst of a busy, full, and very lovely summer.

Know that we are praying for all of you through it all, and offering it all up for the world, the Church, and all people.

Collection Agent

“Show favour, O Lord, to your servants, and mercifully increase the gifts of your grace, that, made fervent in faith, hope, and charity, they may be ever watchful in keeping your commands. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.” (Collect, 16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time).

We are going through the Mass, bit by bit, on Thursdays on this blog, to see how each ‘bit’ of the liturgy informs our way of life as disciples of Jesus Christ. We have come now to the ‘Collect’ – not the Opening Prayer as it was previously called. This prayer does not ‘open’ anything—the liturgy has been going on for awhile at this point, in case you didn’t notice!

This prayer concludes the Entrance rite, and does so by ‘collecting’ all we have done and said and our whole movement of prayer and worship as a community into a single short formulaic statement.

Collects vary from week to week, and also are attuned to the liturgical seasons and feasts of the year—in fact, a study of collects is a good liturgical catechesis as to the meaning and import of this varied and rich tapestry in time that is our yearly liturgical cycle. Since there is no one text that is ‘the Collect’, I have here in this post, then, the Collect all of us will be hearing on this Sunday.

The basic structure of the Collect is to address God (well, of course) acknowledge some attribute of his (in this case, his mercy), and from that ask Him for some basic good (here, to be made fervent in the theological virtues, so that we may be vigilant in keeping his commands).

This is quite a pattern of Christian prayer, really. I am always baffled when I run across something that is labelled a ‘prayer’ which upon close inspection is not actually addressed to God, but is a meditation about God or some such thing. Prayer is words addressed to God, OK Catholics? Are we clear on that?

And our prayer is based on faith—on a firm conviction that God is certain things—merciful, loving, all-good, all-powerful, all-knowing. And our prayers should express that faith before we dive in boots and all asking for stuff. We need to start by acknowledging what is before we look to what is not. God has given us so much, and is so much for us and in us.

Even if our lives at any point or many points are full of trials and sufferings, we have been blessed by the Lord in ways that are to many to enumerate. Jesus Christ… the Holy Spirit… salvation… forgiveness… Eucharist… the Church… the Gospels… Our Lady… the saints… do I need to go on? When we pray, we do need to at least nod in the direction of everything God is and does for us before we dive into our needs list.

But then we do bring Him our needs. It is crucial to note, though, that the Collects of the Mass generally do not ask God for too many temporal goods. We ask God here for fervour and watchfulness. Other collects in recent weeks ask for holy joy, the grace to reject what is contrary to Christ, reverence of his holy name, freedom from darkness of error.

Not a lot of prayers for wealth in there, or even bodily health (there is the occasional Collect that does that), or any other physical good of this world. It is not that we are never to pray for those things—St. Augustine laid down the principle for us, very wisely, that if it is good to have something, it is good to pray for that thing. It’s just… first things first, folks. It is wisdom, truth, joy, fervour, watchfulness, grace, love, fidelity that make our lives blessed, that secure us in the heart of Christ and bear us in that Heart into the eternal Heart of the Trinity. Not temporal goods. We can be drowning in every possible temporal good and go to Hell on their account. There is even a Gospel passage or two to that effect.

So the form of prayer of the Collect, and indeed all the various collects which are a true treasure of our Western Christian patrimony, are a great school of prayer, a teaching of how we are to pray and for what. Talk to God, start with a humble and grateful acknowledging of his goodness and love, and primarily ask for the spiritual goods that are the real prosperity of the Christian.

This is what really ‘collects’ us, gathers all the scrambled, scattered, and tattered pieces of our lives into a single act, a single exercise of our agency as Christians, and bears us in that collection into the Single Act of God which is the action of the Mass extended into all of reality… and that is where we are heading, of course, in this commentary.

You Want Me To Do What?

Arise — go! Sell all you possess. Give it directly, personally to the poor. Take up My cross (their cross) and follow Me, going to the poor, being poor, being one with them, one with Me.

Little — be always little! Be simple, poor, childlike.

Preach the Gospel with your life — without compromise! Listen to the Spirit. He will lead you.

Do little things exceedingly well for love of Me.

Love... love... love, never counting the cost.

Go into the marketplace and stay with Me. Pray, fast. Pray always, fast.

Be hidden. Be a light to your neighbour’s feet. Go without fear into the depth of men’s hearts. I shall be with you.

Pray always. I will be your rest.

The Little Mandate of Madonna House

Go without fear into the depth of men’s hearts. I shall be with you. Our weekly journey through the Little Mandate of MH, the core words we believe God gave our foundress Catherine as the guiding spirit of our community, is winding to a close.

These sentences of the mandate were the ones above all that, when I first joined MH, seemed like essentially a dead letter to me. Go… where? And without what… fear? Why? How? For what good purpose? Mind you, I was 22 years old when I became an applicant here, and somehow not too many people want a socially awkward, barely out of high school young man blundering around in the depths of their hearts. I would have just broken something in there, which come to think of it was more or less of a leitmotif of my early years in the apostolate.

And ‘I will be with you’… well, Jesus, since you’re in there already how’s about I just let you handle it, then! And so it was, with only the most mild and moderate growth in the matter for the longest time, for the first ten to fifteen years in the community. In the meantime, though, and this is the important thing, this line was working on me in a way that was most necessary for my being able to live it in any meaningful way.

Namely this line pushed me to go into the depths of my own heart in a consistent, deep, and often very painful way for the longest time. The long work of coming to know myself, what was going on inside me, and what I needed to do and be to be healed and freed to love and serve God and neighbour. And this was what was needed—we cannot go into the hearts of other people if we have not dwelt at some depth in our own hearts, confronted to some degree at least our own darkness, brokenness, sin. And come to know that, miracle of miracles, He is with us there and has been with us there all along.

When Catherine De Hueck received the Little Mandate in the 1930s, she had already been forced deeply into her own heart of suffering and darkness by her life experience. Her painful marriage, the horrors of war, the nightmare of the revolution, exile, starvation, being a stranger in a strange land—all of this had pushed her at a very young age deeply into the depths of her own being. And it was through all of that pain and suffering that her faith, always strong, grew to its fullness.

So as a young woman in her late 30s she was well prepared to receive this word of the Lord, and in fact had been living it for some years, as hear large and loving heart was a refuge and consolation for many people already at that time.

And this is how it is in life: we have to go through the things we have to go through—it is utterly different for each person—and out of this come to be able to console others in what they are going through. We are pushed into the depths of our own hearts, meet Jesus there, and then have the capacity in this to accompany others into the depths of their own hearts so that they can meet Jesus there, too. Mostly by just listening and praying, praying and listening, occasionally offering a word of advice or two. But mostly, listening.

What I am describing is so much the daily work of a seasoned member of MH, so much what we are really doing while we are doing all the humble ordinary tasks of our daily life. In Combermere it is the hidden fabric of the place, and in our mission houses the constant work, whatever else they are doing.

And of course, 25 years later, as a priest in this community, I am simply more and more given over to my daily work being precisely here in this line of the mandate that, when I joined the apostolate, seemed to be utterly beyond me and completely irrelevant to my life and capacities. Our God is an awesome God.

The beautiful thing we learn in this is that Jesus really is with us, in our own hearts and in our efforts to love and serve others in the depths of their hearts. And that the simple act of listening to a person with profound respect, praying with them in a spirit of faith, and blessing them is powerful beyond measure. We don’t have to solve people’s problems—most people know what they are supposed to do, I have found—but the very act of listening and loving helps give people the clarity and the courage to do what it is they need to do next. It is light to our neighbours’ feet, and it is the deep work of this apostolate, a work that has benefited thousands of people over the years.

Doing The Best We Can Under Current Conditions

Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause

against an ungodly people,

from the deceitful and unjust man

deliver me!

 For you are the God in whom I take refuge;

why have you rejected me?

Why do I go about mourning

because of the oppression of the enemy?

 Send out your light and your truth;

let them lead me;

let them bring me to your holy hill

and to your dwelling!

 Then I will go to the altar of God,

to God my exceeding joy,

and I will praise you with the lyre,

O God, my God.

 Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

 Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation and my God.

Psalm 43

Reflection – I am back from another week of family ministry, this time at the Nazareth family apostolate in Quebec, slightly sunburned and with that pleasantly exhausted feeling that comes from having spent a week doing something good for people.

This lovely psalm follows upon the previous one and repeats some of the same images: ‘why do I go mourning… why are you cast down my soul… hope in God, I shall praise him again…’ It captures to some degree an important aspect of our experience of life in this world. There is a certain amount of uncertainty, a certain darkness of human experience, a certain cast-down-ness that is part of the human condition.

We simply don’t see God and simply don’t ‘know’ Him in this life, not really. Not as we hope to know Him in the next, anyhow. And meanwhile there are ‘ungodly people’ all about—who may be anyone who by word, deed, or omission makes the world in which we live darker, makes it harder for us to hold onto faith, hope, love.

And at the same time, there is this God who while shrouded in mystery is our hope and our salvation. It is so important to realize, and the psalms help us to realize it, that our faith in God is not some airy-fairy, pie-in-the-sky escape from reality, but is in fact the light of hope that allows us to embrace reality in all its roughness and sorrows. We do not flee from the difficult and painful parts of life into a fantasy world of ‘me-and-Jesus’. Rather, Jesus and His Father empower us by the gift of the Holy Spirit to confront everything in the world, and everything in our hearts (which is even harder) that opposes light and love and bring the light and truth of God to bear on it.

Psalm 43 is a battle psalm, a psalm that is taken right from the daily experience of a person of faith living in a world without faith. And it does acknowledge that in the midst of the battle we need help from on high. ‘Send forth your light and your truth’. It is the truth of God, given to us above all in the words of the Gospel, that is our light on the path, that is the sure guide showing us how to get to that altar of God which is our joy in this world and the next.

That is significant, too. Our joy, salvation, deliverance, is found in coming to the altar of God. This is something I am exploring at length and (hopefully) in depth in my Thursday commentary on the Mass. We are made for the worship of God, and to enter that act of worship in Christ is the deepest fulfillment of our humanity, and indeed the very entry of the human person into the life of the Trinity.

Meanwhile, we carry on and do the best we can under battle conditions. Turmoil without and turmoil within, and yet always looking for that bit of light, that bit of truth that will see us through whatever the current struggle is to the next place of calm and freedom where we can take up the lyre and strum another psalm or two to the God who saves us. And that is our task this day, to look for the light, weather the storm, and praise the Lord for all things.