Meg Funk

To be Clean!

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 06:32:34 EST

Inner purification

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter XXVII: on purification through Jesus

“Now you are clean, by reason of the word which I have spoken to you.” The Saviour’s word is not only an incitement to purification and an instrument through which this purification is declared, but it also purifies in a substantial way.

If we receive this word by opening our heart to it, by letting ourselves be possessed by it, we are made clean even before forgiveness has been formally asked for and granted. For we receive the Word made flesh. This purification lasts as long as the union of the soul with the Word lasts.

At the time of the wedding feast of Cana, Jesus orders the servants to fill with water the six stone water-jars which were used for legal ceremonial washings. It is this water which will be changed into wine. Water purifies.

Wine brings strength and joy. It expresses the Saviour’s delight in those whose guest He is. But before the water becomes wine the ceremonial water-jars must be filled “up to the brim.”

Charity according to Christ cannot exist wherever there is no purity. It is only in the soul which has become a water-jar filled up to the brim with the water of purity that this water can be changed into the wine of charity.

Master, how am I supposed to understand your parable of the wedding feast? The king had cast into outer darkness the man who did not have on a wedding garment.

But this man was not one of the expected guests. He was one of those whom the servants went to seek in the highways and byways. He could not have put on a wedding garment.

My child, no one has a wedding garment before going into the house. It is in the house that one can get one. You must ask Me for one. I give wedding garments to all those whom I invite to the wedding feast. Without Me, you have nothing, you can do nothing. It is from Me that you have to expect everything.

The notions of purification and wedding garment arouse in me an awareness of sin, because the vision of the lamb is also the vision of my sin.

“behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who taketh away the sin of the world.” The discovery of the lamb implies our awareness of sin, of injury, of an unbearable burden.

Not only does the Lamb of God take away the weight of sin from our shoulders, but He takes it on His own shoulders. He carries it off, bears it.

The sin of the world is not simply the sum total of the sins of men. It is the expression of the original corruption common to all humanity.

This corruption and this sin of the world become actualized in my personal sins.

small becomes great

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 08:07:27 EST

small

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter XXVI: another version of the little way!

The sign by which the shepherds will recognize the Saviour is that they will find “the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.” No sign of power accompanies the birth of Jesus Christ.

On the contrary, God become man will make Himself known first of all by His poverty, His humility, His weakness. As a small child wrapped in swaddling clothes, He is at the mercy of those who press round Him.

He depends on them. He cannot resist anyone. He is unable to exercise His will, nor can He defend Himself. As He appears in His birth, so will He appear in His passion, and that is how He wants me to be.

Jesus calls to Him the little children: “Suffer the little children to come unto Me . . . for of such is the Kingdom of God.” He takes a little child and places it near Him: “Whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child, shall not enter into it.”

The adult disciple of Christ does not have to strip himself of the human qualities which a child does not yet possess. But he does have to strip himself of his adult faults and assume all the positive qualities of a little child.

In Christ’s eyes the soul’s ascent towards God is also a descent. It consists especially in making oneself small. “He that is the lesser among you all, he is the greater.” In the Church of the child of Bethlehem, in the church of the lamb, there exists an invisible hierarchy of humility.

Jesus prefers the poor and simple means – those which the child itself makes use of. He could have had manna sent down from Heaven, but it is with a young boy’s five barley loaves and two little fishes that He feeds the multitudes in the desert.

And yet these loaves and fishes must be brought to Jesus; He must give thanks over them, and distribute them with His own hand to the disciples. Simple means – the child’s poor provisions – will be efficacious, if they are blessed by Jesus.

In His discourse after the Last Supper, Jesus calls His disciples “little children.” Not just “children” but “little children.” The word implies both the notion of kinship and of deep affection, and also the notion of a particular solicitude towards individuals who are not yet mature.

Master, You who called Your disciples “little children,” I remind You that I have not the perfection, nor the strength of Your maturity as Son of God. Grant that I may remain, or rather, become, a little child in Your hands.

Grant that I may be led. For the sin of the first man was that of no longer wanting to be led, hand in hand, by the Father in Heaven. I have the weakness of childhood; grant me the docility and complete confidence of a small child.

For whoever follows the lamb’s little way, the way of childhood begun at Bethlehem – for him all that is small becomes great.

The lamb is a symbol of simplicity, innocence and purity. “If I wash thee not, thou shalt have no part with Me,” Jesus says to Peter. I can have a part with Jesus only if I am pure. But He alone can make me pure.

Littleness

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 09:10:54 EST

behold the Lamb of God

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter XXV: Lamb of God

It is not enough to know Jesus as the Master who speaks to me and the friend who attracts me. The good shepherd is also the Lamb of God. He is the victim who has offered Himself for me in sacrifice. Without an intimate knowledge of the lamb, I cannot know the heart of Christ.

John the precursor proclaimed Jesus as the Lamb of God. This proclamation is the first episode in the Saviour’s public life after His baptism. It is this proclamation which led John’s two disciples to follow Jesus in silence. The revelation of the lamb is the threshold of the mystery of salvation.

The precursor made one true discovery of the lamb, or rather, the revelation of the Messias as lamb was made to John. “And I knew Him not,” said John.

The precursor had spoken of the axe lain at the root of the trees. He had announced One mightier than himself who, with the winnowing fan in His hand, will cleanse the air and burn the straw.

But he had said nothing of the lamb. Now he proclaims the lamb, that lamb who forms a contrast with the formidable winnower. John’s revelation is unexpected. As soon as he sees Jesus coming, the day after His baptism, this cry: “Behold the Lamb of God,” comes not only from John’s lips but also from his heart.

The next day, two days after the baptism, John repeats the proclamation: “Behold the Lamb of God.” This time Jesus does not come towards John, but He goes towards His ultimate destiny.

Such are the two circumstances in which he who discovers the lamb gives witness of Him (and in so few words). The first instance is when the lamb comes towards us, the second is when He goes towards others.

“Behold the Lamb of God.” Here is the Lamb, concentrate your attention on Him.

John the Baptist, who invites us to look at the lamb, to become aware of His presence, pronounces these words while looking at Jesus. The Greek word used by the Evangelist describes a prolonged, penetrating look.

Have I looked at Jesus only with a passing glance, or have I put into that look something of that calm insistence and depth which John put into his?

Jesus is the Lamb of God. He is not the lamb chosen by men, but the lamb which God Himself furnishes for the sacrifice. He is the lamb which has always belonged to God and will belong to Him forever. He is the only lamb worthy of God, perfect and spotless. He is the real and definitive paschal lamb, the only one whose immolation brings with it salvation.

The lamb is the little one of the flock. Littleness is an essential element of the concept of the Lamb of God. It is in this way that the notion of lamb unites with the notion of childhood.

Root out preoccupations

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 09:18:46 EST

pulled out by the roots

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour

Chapter XIV: root out all that is not God

Jesus eludes those who want to make Him king. He is unwilling to give his opinion about the conflicts between Israel and Caesar. He refuses to help a man who asks Him this, in a disagreement about inheritance.

He who has come to cut the roots by which these things hold us captive, would not encourage us in our search for them. “One thing is necessary.” Mary left all things in order to listen to the word: she has chosen “the best part.”

And yet the word can be expressed in every earthly question provided that it is the Saviour’s word which we look for in it. In this way human questions are transformed in Christ.

Let us consider Martha and Mary. Jesus does not blame Martha for attending to domestic cares.

What He reproaches her for is for being “careful” and “troubled” about “many things.” She allows herself to be distracted from hearing the word.

But it is possible, in the midst of inevitable daily preoccupations, even while serving, to sit down, as it were, at the Lord’s feet and listen to Him.

The most intense activity does not exclude a glance in the Saviour’s direction, cast directly on Jesus. If Martha had realized it, she would have – without stopping to serve – chosen the best part – no less than Mary had done.

The inhabitants of Sichem say to the Samaritan woman: “We now believe, not for thy saying; for we ourselves have heard Him.”

A moment is bound to come when the word, which Jesus has interpreted for us and which has directed us towards Him, becomes so authoritative that we are bound to believe by virtue of an immediate experience, of a personal contact. We no longer want only to hear about Him, but to hear Him speak to us.

Man, says Jesus, “doth live in every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God.” There is a great difference between tasting from time to time the divine Word and living by it, making it our daily, necessary, essential food.

And Jesus says that of each and every divine word. Whatever be the divine word which we encounter, as strange as it may seem to our present needs, it is for us, provided we know how to make it more intense, a source and power of life.

One Word

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 01:37:42 EST

And He became One

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter XIII:One Word: Walking Humbly Behind Him

“Come ye after Me.” This is the most customary form of the call which Jesus gives to those who will be His disciples.

We must follow Jesus. First of all, we must not be where Jesus is not, nor go where He would not go. Next, we must go where He is going, and go with Him. We must not follow at a distance, but close by Him; not aiming at outdistancing Him and going faster than He. We must walk humbly behind Him.

We must not be preoccupied with anything else but following. “What is it to thee? Follow thou Me.” What will become of John does not concern Peter; what concerns Peter is only to follow Jesus.

My child, you are anxious about many people and many things. You are anxious about your very life, about what you have undertaken, but I have asked you for only one thing, a thing so simple: to follow Me.

The Saviour’s first two disciples having left the Baptist follow their new Master silently at a distance. Jesus does not seem to notice it until the moment when He turns around and questions them.

Now and then I have had to walk behind Jesus without His speaking to me, without His letting me see His face. It is enough to know that Jesus is there, quite near. Whenever He wishes, He will turn towards me.

When we question Jesus, often instead of answering us He asks us a question. This is how He proceeded with the Doctors of Israel. We are instinctively afraid of the Saviour’s questions. But it is by welcoming, loving these questions asked by Jesus that already we hear His answer.

The authority with which Jesus speaks is unique. The Jews were struck by his doctrine, because He spoke “as one having power.”

We hear this tone of authority both when Jesus speaks to us in the privacy of our souls and when we hear the Gospel accounts. Here there is a powerful motive for believing in the Master’s word. Who then can speak in such a way? What man would dare to demand this unconditional submission?

There are words and the word. “The words which Thou gavest me, I have given to them,” Jesus says to His Father after the Last Supper.

Elsewhere He mentions “the word” of the Father. The words: not the complete message, in its unity, but detached words, applicable to special occasions.

Among the great number of words which ring in my ears – like so many small coins of no apparent value – there is one intended especially for me: one word (the “word”) which is important for me to be able to recognize as uttered for me. This I can achieve only by being attentive to each and every word.

Published: Lectio Matters

(Meg Funk) — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 08:47:23 EST

Lectio Matters

Lectio Matters before the burning bush

I received my copy from London in the mail yesterday. It's now available from Continuum Publishers or Amazon.com

It's a work of many collaborators. I've dedicated it to encourage all of us to do lectio whenever we are not doing something else!

Sister Meg

Crystal clear

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 13:51:14 EST

pure light of Christ

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour

Chapter XI: Crystal Clear

The atmosphere of Jesus is luminous. “I am the light of the world.” With Jesus there is no trace of clouds or storm, of pathos and tempestuous violence, of darkness rent by lightning flashes. There is not even a partial shadow. Everything in Jesus is crystal clear. This clarity does not exclude an often keen sharpness.

There is no tragedy about Jesus, because no problem remains without a solution. The disciple’s difficulty is not to be ignorant of what he must do, but to have the strength to do it. What is called the tragedy of human existence disappears when confronted by the pure light of Christ. If we see the light, we can walk in the light.

During the transfiguration, Christ’s garments became “shining” and “exceeding white as snow, so as no other fuller upon earth can whiten.” The vision of Jesus – and even the image which we form of Him in ourselves – is inseparable from that impression of light, of whiteness, of dazzling purity.

Jesus has the vastness of the sea, of a deep-blue sea at nightfall, of a sea which the noonday sun covers with a blinding whiteness. On the horizon the sealine and the skyline merge. In this way, Lord, as far as my gaze is able to follow You, I see You lost in the glory of the Father.

What happened at the transfiguration? The Master, who lived with His disciples and to whose appearance they were accustomed, seems to them to be suddenly transformed, wrapped in light, radiant.

To us also it is sometimes given to experience a certain impression of Jesus which is entirely new and overwhelming.

We are not speaking of that corporeal vision of the Saviour which has been the privilege of some – perhaps even of many – throughout the centuries. It happens, however, sometimes, that the Saviour’s presence is imposed on us, cast on us and takes hold of us. We feel His light without seeing it, or rather, we suspect it.

Thus does the morning sun filter across a sleeper’s closed eyes. The Master, whose daily appearance is so meek and humble, makes us tremble when we come in contact with his power. Such are moments of transfiguration.

The Jews knew no divine light other than the pillar of fire which guided Israel into the desert. This was a limited, temporary light, the light for one people and for one era. Jesus proclaims Himself the light “of the world,” the eternal, universal light which “enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world.”

Blessed are You, O Lord, because Your light works in all souls and because (however distorted it may be) it is to be found in all races, in all religious beliefs.

Christ Consciousness Again

(Meg Funk) — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 08:36:39 EST

requires effort to remain docile

Meg: I wrote this essay ten years ago. I am posting it today to bring forward the reason I am posting so many meditations from the Monk of the Eastern Church.

For us to have an abiding Christ Consciousness we must practice. We must train our minds to a one-pointedness toward Jesus. If we let our minds range in free-fall our thoughts just drift and/or move up the chain of attractions and aversions.

A Christ Consciousness is a way of contemplation which requires right effort to remain docile to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.

Christ Consciousness
Sr. Mary Margaret Funk, OSB
from Bulletin 64, May 2000

I’m Christian. Never before in my life has this meant so much. In August 1999 I sat at the Kalachakra Initiation Rite in Bloomington with H.H. the Dalai Lama as the master teacher, a tantric guru.

I have never felt so Christian. During the following weeks and months I did lectio by appropriating the noble parts of his instruction to my own prayer. With this little essay I’d like to focus on Christ Consciousness and its benefit for me and perhaps others at this time when there are so many paths and spiritual practices afoot.

The Dalai Lama and all Eastern teachers request that Westerners return to the faith of their birth. I especially like Yogananda’s admonition: “Many persons worry about becoming narrow-minded before they have learned to be balanced. Superficial seekers, in their wish to appear broad-minded, indiscriminately absorb differing ideas without first distilling the essence of truth within them by realization.

The result is a spiritually weak, diluted consciousness. Though I regard lovingly all true religious paths and all true spiritual teachers, you see that I am one-pointedly loyal to my own.” He goes on to say the following about finding a true guru: “

All true religions lead to God. Seek until you find the spiritual teaching which draws and fully satisfies your own heart; and once having found it, let nothing touch your loyalty again. Give the path your full attention. Put your entire consciousness upon it, and you will find the results you are seeking.” (The Guru-Disciple Relationship, by Mrialini Mata, published by The Self-Realization Fellowship; 3880 San Rafael Avenue; Los Angeles, CA 90065)

At the Kalachakra Initiation I was sitting in the VIP section on the stage very near the Dalai Lama. The Buddhists in the audience seemed like advanced practitioners. There were nearly 5,000 people under this one huge tent.

When Dharma students learned that I was a nun, they’d ask me what was in my mind as the ritual progressed through the Buddhists texts, recitations, deity visualizations and gestures. At the time, I must confess, I sat with as much respect, openness and emptiness as possible. My Christian heart was simply at rest being there with others. Later some of the following thoughts emerged:

First, there is no one-to-one correspondence between Christian and Buddhist rituals, especially one as complex and esoteric as the Kalachakra, but there is a way of living that creates the same feel, the same attitude and dispositions.

Christ consciousness would be similar insofar as there’s a deep interior mind’s eye that is directed toward another and not back unto itself. The thoughts are toward Christ, often in the context of many quotes from Paul’s Epistles and John’s Gospel and Epistles. There’s the absolute permission to self-forgetfulness and to moving all one’s energies towards other beings that have life on this planet of ours.

To be more specific, what is Christ Consciousness?

It seems that the mind is the engine of the heart. The mind is the intention and willingness of the heart. The mind is active and reflexive, informing the “I” of self-ness and the “we” of social-ness with itself. Lest this sound too philosophical, I simply mean that the mind knows the heart. In our gift of freedom we can make choices, consent and “will-to-havein-our-heart” what we prefer.

Our longings are many but the desire is one. What one thing is actually “home” for the heart? Along with St. Augustine, we know that our heart is restless until it rests in God. This God-desire is so thirsty that the thirst moves all the way through our own desire back to God’s very own desire—but this is getting ahead of the story.

To be still more specific, there is our inner chatter to ourselves. What does the mind’s eye see and say to itself? Many people are not aware of this inner dynamism in their heart chamber. There’s just the noise, like the white noise in nature or any modern, machine-driven environment. I hear the sound of my iMac and the traffic outside and the air handler from the roof and the birds by my window.

When I am more attentive I watch my thoughts, logismoi, trail off in one direction and then in another: “So, I’m writing this for the ABA; wonder if I’ll get to go this time; last time the meeting was in Latrobe, this time it’s in St. Meinrad; that’s closer; should be able to drive down; it’s the 50th anniversary; want to support Fr. Eugene; he’s worked hard on this...” And so it goes.

The more conscious I am of the thoughts that rise in my mind and register on the screen of consciousness, the more I can redirect my thoughts.

Yes, I can even talk to them, about them, interact with them and think things through. The more conscious I am of my thoughts, the more aware I am of the subtle rising and falling of moods, feelings, impressions, logical sequences and haphazard gatherings of this and that. At some point this intersects with a meditation practice. (Now this might represent a gap in my essay, but I don’t have any other way to make the leap than to shift it as it has shifted me.)

Through meditation one gets sharp and actually alert to each impulse as it rises on the screen of consciousness. In meditation practice the consent is all about God and God’s action in my life. God is present in a major waywhen thoughts subside and get stilled. The only thought is no-thought, ever so briefly. In meditation practice there is a cessation of thoughts toward the self and consent to dwell in God. Later this spills over into consciousness as a shift of one’s thoughts toward God.

At first this is all rather halting and difficult and strenuous, but later it is as natural as telling your best friend what’s going on that really matters. The thoughts are discreet and distinct and not just a mess of hunches and emotions. They lie over in the direction of God; this could be called habitual prayer in the classical sense. This kind of prayer will go away if it is not nurtured. It can just be a momentary high that brings the presence of God to one’s heart and then leaves it cold and distant once again.

For this reason, one must accompany this desire of Christ consciousness with a practice. There are two that I find especially helpful in our Christian heritage:
The Jesus Prayer and Colloquy.

The Jesus Prayer is well known and the teachings can be found in many sources, such as The Philokalia and The Way of a Pilgrim.

The practice of Colloquy is not well accepted today because of its misidentification with the French School of mysticism of 300 years ago. Colloquy is simply talking to God, as did St. Therese of Lisieux and St. Gertrude. It’s mostly interior and seldom known by anyone else.

The important thing is that it’s not just some of one’s thoughts (as when you write a letter to a friend), but it’s all of one’s thoughts. There’s a shift from self-reflexiveness to God-reflexiveness. The thoughts shift out rather than in. All is shared; nothing is kept secret or undifferentiated.

The practices of any method seem to take on the following three stages:

l) The habitual stage: Here one makes strenuous efforts to make the method a habit. It is conscious even to the point of counting the times a prayer is said, setting aside special times, and having a rosary or other device (such as journaling) to help the habit become deeply embedded in one’s consciousness.

2) The practice next reaches the virtual stage: Now it’s on the mental level, deeply embedded in the mind. This mental stage works for sustained periods seemingly without effort, but then it subsides and there are cooling periods.

It had felt as if it was a pattern for life, but no. One must then go back to the habitual practices. This is the genius of practice. It is both the prayer, since on it rides the intention of union with God, and also the method to establish the human connections, linking body, mind and soul with one’s deepest desires.

3) Finally there’s the actual phase, when the method becomes a gift that abides through thick and thin. I suppose it’s probably only at this level that one could say that one has Christ consciousness. This level is present whenever one thinks and knows that one is thinking.

It does seem that there is always forgetfulness as long as we are human. Or it seems like there is mindlessness. But the practice should endure no matter what. It brings us back to our original intention and to that place of consciousness that is shared, eventually merged.

This is why one must take up a practice and do it, do it continuously and unceasingly till death. After a while the practice becomes automatic and moves along like a murmuring brook or a flickering light day and night. The point is to sustain the practice until it has a life of its own.

This is perhaps the best thing a spiritual director can do to help one become a spiritual practitioner. There are other practices, but for Christ Consciousness the Jesus Prayer that is sustained long enough to become Prayer of the Heart and Colloquy are two wonderful tools from antiquity to assist us.

As you can see from this little essay, Christ Consciousness is just this: my thoughts are toward Christ. Eventually there’s a moving together in a shared way, the way good friends think alike and know the other’s way of thinking, being, and becoming.

While this sounds high-minded (no pun intended!), it’s actually the way most children think before they get socialized otherwise. So, Christ Consciousness is returning home to our original self as children before our Creator.

Just as the Kalachakra ritual is an initiation into a deity of the Buddhist tradition that enables one to live “in the meantime” as a person working on behalf of others and doing serious spiritual work toward training one’s own mind, our path, as Christians, is to put on the mind of Christ Jesus and go where he leads us.

Website by Booklight, Inc. Copyright � 2010, Monastic Dialogue. Used with Permission.

Faith: Outside Jesus, there is nothing

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 08:16:55 EST

Unbelief and faith

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter X: Lacking Faith

On only two occasions does the Gospel tell us that Jesus was surprised at something. In both cases it is a question of faith.

The first episode happened at Nazareth, when Jesus returns there. He is teaching in the synagogue. Neither His person nor His message are accepted. That is why He cannot perform any great miracle there. “And He wondered because of their unbelief.”

The second episode occurred at Capharnaum. The Roman centurion is pleading for the cure of his paralyzed servant. “I will come and cure him,” says Jesus. The centurion protests: “I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof; but only say the word.” When Jesus heard the centurion, “He marveled.” He cures the servant from a distance; and He declares that even in Israel He has not found such great faith.

Let us compare these two episodes. There is something surprising here. The people of Nazareth are Israelites, having the law and the prophets, a precise belief and ritual.

The centurion is a stranger to the people of the covenant (at most, perhaps a proselyte). Nonetheless, Jesus is amazed at the incredulity of Nazareth, and He is amazed at the centurion’s faith.

Nazareth’s orthodoxy is not the living faith, the saving faith. If such a faith has animated them, the men of Nazareth would have opened their hearts to Jesus.

They abide by a precise and fruitless religion.

Their hearts remained closed.

We do not know exactly what the centurion’s faith may have been. He did not know about Jesus what we have been given to know, but he opened his heart to Jesus. He suspects in Him a Saviour and a Lord. His faith is based on confidence and obedience – not on sentimentality.

It is an impulse of his whole being. He has no doubt that Jesus can and will cure his sick servant. In some ways he stakes his life on Jesus’ word. “Only say the word . . .” : a humble and fervent expectation.

We know now what Jesus calls unbelief, and we know what he calls faith, “. . . such great faith.”

Jesus sees what is in us. Does He find in us the centurion’s faith or Nazareth’s incredulity? At what would Jesus be amazed: at our faith – or at our unbelief?

“I do believe. Help my unbelief.” Is not this antithesis, this paradoxical cry which the father of a possessed child calls out to Jesus, the phrase which suits our own situation?

We must believe in Jesus Christ: but why? Each one of us must render an account of his reasons for believing. There are as many roads which lead to Jesus as there are men.

As for me, Lord Jesus, I am one of those who believe in You because of Yourself.

I believe in You because, with the help of Your grace, no image within me can replace or wipe out Your image and because no word, as much as Yours, can penetrate to the very depths of my heart.

I believe in you because You have made me know the beauty of Your face. I believe in You because – to use the words of the officer sent to arrest You – “never did man speak like this man.”

I believe in You because, for me, outside of You, there is nothing.

Seeing Jesus Only

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 20:13:34 EST

seeing Jesus Only

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Seeing Jesus Only
Chapter IX

Coming down from the mountain of transfiguration, the disciples see no one but “Jesus only.” The obvious meaning of the phrase is: they no longer see Moses, Elias and the divine glory; they join Jesus once again under His everyday appearance.

Another meaning can be added to this one: the soul which has been dazzled by the Saviour’s light sees this same light over all beings: through men and things, it sees “Jesus only.”

Jesus calls souls individually. This is very pronounced in the Saviour’s call to the first disciples. A deeply personal element enters into this call.

Jesus sees Simon, and at once He tells him that he will become Cephas, the rock. Jesus sees Nathanael, and immediately He says that here is an Israelite in whom there is no room for guile (Jacob, after first resorting to fraud, had become the sincere Israel). In Nathanael’s case, it is the present state of soul of the newcomer which provides a theme for the Master’s welcome.

In Simon’s case – and it is the most frequent – the Master foresees what the spiritual growth of the disciple will be. He accepts what the disciple will be, rather than what he is; He draws up even then an outline of his future ministry.

Jesus says to Nathanael: “Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee.” We do not know to what episode Jesus is alluding. Had Nathanael retired under a fig-tree in a moment of prayer, or of meditation, or of temptation, or of interior struggle, or perhaps in a state of sin and repentance? What is certain is that the shadow of this fig-tree marks a decisive moment in Nathanael’s life.

Jesus, at that moment of decision, was invisibly present, as He is present during the struggle which each one of us wages, under our fig-tree.

Under another fig-tree, four centuries later, Augustine will hear a voice say to him: Tolle, lege, “take and read.” This call will be decisive in his conversion. There are sterile fig-trees which Jesus curses, which deceive by bearing leaves. There are exceptionally fertile fig-trees which Jesus blesses. Their fruits are Nathanael and Augustine.

The Master’s call – whether it concerns Nathanael or each one of us – has secret and deep roots in what is most intimate about our life. “When thou wast under the fig-tree . . .”

Peter’s words, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord,” is as essential in our relations with Jesus as that other of the apostle’s sayings: “Bid me come to Thee upon the waters.”

These statements, one of humility and one of confidence, should be pronounced at the same time. But, in our condition of sinful and justified men, condemned and saved, there is room now for one of these statements, now for the other, alternating them.

“Come and see,” says Jesus to the first two disciples, who asked Him where He dwells. “Come and see,” says Philip to Nathanael, when he wants to bring him to the Master.

These two moments were needed in order to attain Jesus. First of all, we must make a personal effort. Vision is the crown of this effort. Indeed our initial effort is itself a grace, a gift which emanates from the Saviour.

There are also moments of great distress when it is we who, like the Jews near Lazarus’ tomb, cry out to Jesus: “Lord, come and see.” Our act of faith is an answer to the Saviour’s first invitation when He used the very same words.

Lord, show me your face.

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 22:21:02 EST

carved by Father Joseph

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Show me your Face.
Chapter VIII

In Christ Jesus the way and its end are identified. If we enter into the way which is Christ we have already obtained our objective.

Whatever the problem may be, whether it be one of the lofty questions of the spiritual order or one of the simplest everyday problems, by embracing Jesus, by uniting ourselves more intimately to Him, we arrive at a solution.

That does not dispense us either from reflection or from the appropriate methods, but our thinking will do its work in the light of Christ.

Some concrete problem confronts me – a serious decision to make, a difficult interview, a letter to write, personal relations, professional duties, etc. – O Lord, what ought I do?

My child, first of all, unite yourself to Me. Be assured that in Me your personal problem is resolved. If you really see Me, you shall see the solution through Me, as it were transparently. Make use of your reasoning powers, but in My light and depending on My heart.

Martha believes that her brother will rise again on the last day. Jesus answers her: “I am the resurrection.”

There are two teachings in this statement: the resurrection is not a purely eschatological reality, projected into the ultimate future.

The resurrection is, in a very definite way, a reality already given; it already exists. It is the Saviour Himself who from now on is the cause and the power of the resurrection of the dead. Not by imagination, or memory, but by union with Christ, we join, at this very moment, those whom we have loved and who have left this world.

This union with the person of Christ is only possible if we set up before us, if we carry within ourselves, an intensely real image of Jesus. An image does not mean imagination nor a mental picture (although at the beginning that can be useful), but a definite interior vision, with hazy definition, which cannot be described outwardly.

Peter walks on the water. As long as he looks at Jesus, as long as he goes towards Him, he is able to walk on the waves of the lake. But when he looks about him, when he notices that the wind is strong, he is struck with fear. He begins to sink. Jesus has to stretch forth His hand to save him.

If Peter had paid no attention to the waves and wind, if he had concentrated his gaze on Jesus alone, he would not have found himself in danger. His faith would not have been shaken.

In this you have also the cause of my falls. If I were capable of looking at Jesus alone, if I did not give way to consideration of danger or temptation, begin a kind of dialogue with them, I too would be able to walk on the water. All my faults originate by a fading or disappearance of the Saviour’s image.

But how do I set up before me an image of Jesus strong enough to prevail over the fear of danger or the enticement of sin?

Such an image is not the work of one minute or of one day. It is the work of months, of years, of a whole lifetime. A hasty, superficial image of Jesus is as one drawn on water. It vanishes with the first breeze, with the first jolt.

I have to form this image of Jesus slowly and deeply, or rather, I must develop and then preserve a certain docility so that Jesus might engrave His face on my heart.

The beauty of the Saviour’s face does not only attract, it acts and transforms. If our interior gaze is persistent, the Saviour’s beauty touches us deeply, in proportion to this persistency.

O lord, show me Your face; and all my difficulties will melt like snow in the sunlight. Contemplating Your face, we shall be absorbed in Your light, lifted up from brightness to brightness, changed into Your image.

Substitution

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 08:48:50 EST

photo by Mercedes Camelo

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter VII Present Day Event

Let us consider Christ Jesus in our age. Every word of a Gospel account is for me a present-day event. (It is also prolonged right up to eternal life.)

It is quite different from a past event which I commemorate. It is for me, at this very moment, a conscious fact, belonging to my life.

The Saviour’s acts and words are linked to history in this sense, that they have an historical context and have taken place in time. But they go beyond time and history, as the God-Man transcends all human limits. Being of the past, they are, however, free of the past. They are contemporary with every man. And they open out to us the future.

Of John’s two disciples who followed Him in silence, Jesus asks: “What seek you?” They answer: “Master, where dwellest Thou?”

They are not looking for something but for someone, a person. Furthermore, they wish to know, not only where Jesus is going, but where He dwells. We must desire a fixed, permanent way of life, close to Jesus, more than a passing encounter.

Thus, from the first page, the history of the apostles puts Jesus at the center of things. What I am seeking is not moral perfection, nor is it a conception of the coherent or enticing world. It is not even this or that gift, this or that special divine grace, it is the person of Christ.

The question which Jesus asked the soldiers who came to arrest Him – “Whom seek ye?” – recalls the question asked of the first two disciples: “What seek you?”

The expression “all seek for Thee,” addressed one day to Jesus by the disciples, does not cease to be current. Some seek Jesus in order to join Him, others in order to render Him powerless. If only these two groups were distinctly separate! Alas! in our condition of sinful men we belong intermittently to one or the other group.

Jesus did not say: “I am showing you the way.” He said: “I am the way.”

He did not say, “I am teaching you the truth”; He said, “I am the truth.”

He did not say, “I am giving you life”; He said, “I am the life.”

St. Paul will often speak of Christ in like terms: Christ is my life, He is our sanctification, our justice. We can speak of Christ in substantives, because He is the very substance of all good things, of all gifts.

In Jesus a living person has replaced the law. It is no longer because of a written commandment that I shall shun murder and adultery, but because a person, Jesus Christ, has spoken, has lived and died in a way which henceforth constitutes the eternal model.

Jesus abolishes and at the same time perfects the law. Like the river which flows into the sea, each drop of water which was in the river maintains its existence in the womb of the sea, but the river, as a river, no longer exists.

For anyone who has understood this substitution, there is a specifically Christian way of bringing up problems in Christ.

When Paul puts the Christians on guard against fornication, he is not indulging in moral considerations about purity; he only asks if the members of Christ are going to make themselves members of a prostitute.

He is not speaking of the immortality of the soul, but he says that, if Jesus has not risen from the dead, our hope is in vain.

You can Yourself write in my soul...

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 12:12:57 EST

photo by Mercedes Camelo

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
Chapter VI: Close the book!

The man who gives himself entirely to a work, either for the purpose of assimilating or of developing another’s work, or of elaborating a particular work of his own, that man restricts himself, simplifies himself, unifies himself. He is wrapped up, so to speak, in the work to which he applies himself.

It is the same for the man who wants to know Jesus. We must shut ourselves up in Jesus, we must include in Him all other people, everything else. Thereby, invisibly, our knowledge will gush forth in grace upon the world.

My Saviour, I have enough to consider and to discuss concerning You. I have read enough, listened enough, spoken enough. I should simply like to come close to You. Allow me to close the books. Let nothing stand between us any longer. Let me come to You. Let me be absorbed, engulfed in Your presence. May Your heart alone speak to my heart!

Lord Jesus, how can my heart listen to Your heart while the Doctors and Scribes are wrangling about Your name? Is the noise of their voices not going to drown out what you said softly in secret?

I repeat the words of Mary in the garden: “They have taken away my Lord; and I know not where they have laid Him. Tell me where thou hast laid Him and I will take Him away.”

I also would carry You away, Lord Jesus, carry You far from the tumults of the schools, far from the disputes of the wise men, far also from the bitter zealousness and contentions among the disciples (“Which of us is the greatest?”). Let me adore You, see You, speak with You.

This presence, this intimacy which I long for, I can obtain from You, O Lord. You can appear to me without this new presence having a direct connection with the past.

You can also make present and real and new for me the life which was Your earthly life. You can Yourself write in my soul a “Life of Jesus,” old and new at the same time. Lord, reveal Yourself to me as the Jesus of the Gospel and as Jesus my contemporary.

Begin Now Eternal Life

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 08:20:58 EST

photo by Mercedes Camelo

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour: Jesus alone is Master. Chapter V

“Learn of Me . . .” We cannot know Jesus without learning Jesus. We must learn day by day, hour by hour, little by little; it is a task of docility and perseverance. It supposes a daily familiarity with Jesus: being close to Him, listening to Him. “Of Me . . .”

The Saviour desires this direct, intimate relation with each soul.

Others can prepare us for His message and tell us it again with profit. But these will never be anything but tutors. He alone is the Master, the one whose teaching springs from Godhead. Here the teaching is united with the teacher.

To receive Jesus, message is to discover the person of the Master. Jesus want s to reveal to us what He is.

And what does He want us to learn about Him? This, which is very simple, very brief and accessible to the most ordinary and ignorant people: “that I am meek and humble of heart.” That is what He wants us to know first of all. Is it very much? Cloaked in these words we could discover Bethlehem and Golgotha.

To know Jesus we must be capable of a certain disinterest and a sort of sacred objectivity. This knowledge must be the greatest interest of our life.

Therefore we must prevent our lives, even on the spiritual plane, from becoming our primary occupation.

What we will learn about Jesus from Jesus must be more precious to us, more desirable, than what we will learn about ourselves. Because the Saviour’s face forces us to become aware at once of our own proportions, of our own situation; from this immediately emanates the possibility – more: the active power – of our metamorphosis. But Jesus’ face must not interest us primarily because of its effects on us. First of all, we must be captivated by its intrinsic beauty.

“Have I been so long a time with you and have you not known me, Philip?” My child, I have been with you also for so many years! Yet, in many respects, I am unknown to you. What you know about Me is nothing compared to what there is yet for you to learn. Are you willing to devote the time which is left to you to knowing Me?

This is the knowledge of Christ: “eternal life, that they may know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent.” It is not enough to say that this knowledge takes place in eternal life. It is eternal life. Eternal life consists in this.

Consequently, eternal life begins here below. This knowledge is the link between time and eternity. The only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent: they are not two objects of knowledge. For it is only in Jesus that we know His Father and His Spirit. “He that seeth me seeth the Father also.”

Touching Jesus

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 17:12:16 EST

photo by Marina Funk

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour

Chapter IV

Must we see Jesus? More than that: we must touch Him. “Which we have seen with our eyes, and our hands have handled, of the word of life . . .,” writes the apostle John.

The woman afflicted with an issue of blood declared that if only she could touch Jesus’ garments, she would be healed. She touched timorously, from behind, Jesus’ tunic; and she was cured of her illness.

I ask that no day pass without my being able to touch at least the fringe of Jesus’ garment without a power going out from the Savour which will be unto me a pledge of salvation.

We must touch Jesus in secret conversation with Him, in contact with the human members of the Body of Christ which is the church, in the mystery of the Lord’s Last Supper.

We must not suppose that we have touched Jesus because we have drawn near to Him. But there are privileged moments when a kind of ineffable shudder, a sort of irrestible evidence (which, if authentic, cast us into the depths of humility) make us cry out: “I have just touched Jesus,” or better, “Jesus has just touched me.” Lord, I am not worthy to lift my eyes towards You. Be merciful to me, a sinner.

How the facts of Christ’s life perplex us! Never are they exactly what we are expecting. And yet they go even further and are more positive than we were expecting. Joseph of Arimathea buried Jesus, but Jesus is He whom no sepulcher can contain or restrain.

The women bring aromatic spices to the tomb; now it is a God already risen whom they plan to anoint. A woman breaks a jar of perfume on the Lord’s living body, in order to give Him glory; now Jesus says that it is with a view to His burial that she performed this act.

The cross seems to destroy hope, but the resurrection destroys despair. The divine acts, which ruin our plans, go beyond either hope or despair.

Thus it is with each of Jesus’ interventions in our personal life. Every one of them makes something explode, but also makes flight possible. Jesus won’t fit into any of our plans. His presence, His word break every bound.

St. Paul MN School of Lectio Divina

(Samuel Rahberg) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 18:00:27 EST

St. Paul Benedictine Sisters

Summary: School of Lectio Divina

Purpose Statement

The Benedictine Center of St. Paul’s Monastery is offering the School of Lectio Divina to adapt the ancient monastic riches of sustained lectio divina to contemporary people.

Through an intensive retreat experience set in the rhythm of life at St. Paul’s Monastery, participants receive teaching about lectio divina, spend time meditating on a sacred text significant for them, have the opportunity for individual spiritual direction, and participate in reflective conversation with other participants.

In addition, the Center will provide a variety of on‐going support activities and resources after the retreat participants make sustained lectio core to individual prayer and spiritual development.

Audience

The School of Lectio Divina accepts applicants who have had some initial experience with lectio divina, including but not limited to participation in introductory experiences offered at the Benedictine Center and elsewhere. With its primary focus on the Scriptures, the School is Christian and ecumenical in its commitments.

Outcomes
As a result of their participation in the School, individuals can expect the following:
� To understand the teaching around lectio and its fundamental structure
� To gain insight into the obstacles to practice and how to respond
� To explore forms of meditation that support the practice of lectio
� To identify a text for sustained lectio
� To plan how to cultivate lectio as a regular spiritual practice

Structure/Process
1. An application process will help individuals and the Center determine readiness for participating in the School.

2. Participants will complete assigned reflection exercises and make initial discernment of the text they will use for lectio.

3. Maximum enrollment of 14 persons. Two cohorts would be offered each year.

4. There will be one primary teacher for each cohort plus three spiritual directors to offer support and counsel as participants seek them. The teacher for the first cohort in fall 2010 will be Sr. Meg Funk OSB; subsequent cohorts will be taught by persons who know Sr. Meg’s work and have a well-developed practice of lectio themselves. Spiritual directors will be members of the Center’s staff.

5. The retreat will be five days in length, beginning at midday (option available to arrive that morn) and concluding at 1p.

Samuel Rahberg , Associate Director
Benedictine Center of St. Paul’s Monastery
2675 Benet Rd, St. Paul, Minn. 55109
651.777.7251 651.773.5124 fax
office hours M-F 9a-4p

Seeking what has been found

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 20:48:42 EST

photo by Jim Funk

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour

Chapter III

Jesus is the truth. In Him all is truth. In so far as the truth which is in Jesus is discovered, all truth is discovered. This can be applied to the science, art and culture of men and women. We must see the world with the Saviour’s eyes.

The Saviour gives no direct answer, either affirmative or negative, to John’s disciples who questioned Him about His mission. He tells them to report to John what they have seen. Jesus charged Peter, who gave a sound answer and confessed the Messias, not to reveal the mystery publicly.

Every man (and woman) has to discover for him/herself the secret of Jesus. And even if we learn from others who Jesus is, and even if the others are commissioned to teach this to us, it is only by an intensely personal experience that we shall come to know what Jesus is.

In fact, of the many souls who believed all they must believe, and who led a just and pious life, we may wonder: did this soul know Him intimately, as one can know one’s closest friend, as a man and a woman who love each other can know each other, as alone He can be known who is more spiritual than ourselves?

A number of acquired notions (and also true ones) concerning the Saviour are often substituted for a personal and intense knowledge of the Saviour. It can be a hindrance just like a screen between Jesus and us. Lord, do I really know You, or do I only know what I have read about You, what I have heard about You?

Jesus does not want the soul to be fastened onto the vision granted momentarily and to be limited by it. Nathaniel saw Jesus and he believed. But Jesus said to him: “Greater things than these shalt thou see.”

The joy of the vision must not interrupt its drive. It must stimulate its continuance. We must keep on perpetually seeking Jesus. “Seek, and you shall find.” Yes. But also: because you have found, you will seek further. We shall cease to look for Jesus only at the end of time.

The discovery of Jesus will not exhaust our search for Him as long as we have not obtained the final vision. St. Augustine says it: Quaeramus inventum, let us search after Him who has been found.

Being Seen

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 05:25:45 EST

Very simple

a Dialogue with the Saviour

Chapter II Being seen by Jesus

“We would see Jesus,” certain Greeks said to the apostle Philip. And it is always just this prayer which I address to the Holy Spirit. O Lord Holy Spirit, make me see Jesus!

The pure of heart will see God. The sermon on the Mount makes it quite plain. And Jesus can be seen only by the pure of heart, who can move directly to the very heart of the Gospel. For them, it is very simple.

But it is difficult for those whose gaze is troubled by the passions or by the unbridled quest for purely human knowledge. They must re-learn purity of heart in order to regain the direct, immediate gaze of Jesus.

I learn to look at Jesus in so far as I learn to be looked at by Him, that is, to submit myself to His gaze.

Before speaking to Simon Peter at the time of his first call, Jesus looks at him, and the Greek word implies that He looks at him with insistence.

The same insistent gaze was again cast upon Simon Peter, when Jesus was coming out of Caiphas’ house and Peter denied Him.

The first of such looks from Jesus fills the disciple with joy and light. The second makes the disciple who has failed his Master weep bitterly. There are looks of the Saviour which cause weeping: without them, I shall not deserve to have the glance of light cast upon me.

The conditions for the vision are the same as those imposed by Jesus on the three disciples whom He made witnesses of His transfiguration. Jesus “took them with Him”; He “led” them; He led them “up a high mountain,” where they were “alone, apart.”

Let us consider being alone with Jesus, letting ourselves be led by Him. The ascent is painful – far above what is bad or mediocre in our life. Ordinarily all these conditions remain necessary. (I say “ordinarily” because there are exceptional cases: Saul on the road to Damascus.)

The theme is still purity of heart. The pure heart is unalloyed (as one speaks of gold which is pure), an undivided heart, an unshared heart, its integrity preserved – or recovered.

Impurity, in the sexual sense, is only one of the forms of disintegration. “My son, give me thy heart,” said Wisdom in the Old Testament. Only a heart that is “given” can grasp Jesus; but it must be given without turning back, complete, without fault.

The one is opposed to the many. “My name is Legion,” answered the man possessed, when Jesus asked his name.

My child, you have sought your own happiness. Instead of the happiness which you are seeking, I offer you My beatitudes. Your whole life has made it clear to you that your road was closed to you, outside of the complete giving of yourself. Blessed are you to whom I have barred the roads which are not Mine!

When I look at You, Lord Jesus, I no longer feel the need of questioning You, of receiving answers to specific questions. Your person, Your image are a sufficient and complete answer.

If I fix my eyes on You, in You everything is revealed to me, obscurely, indeed, but powerfully; and even this obscurity (which between us, cannot not be) is often a dazzling brightness. When it seems to me that I have obtained a clear vision of You, everything becomes clear to me.

Your word, Lord Jesus, is not a commentary on a relationship which should exist between You and me. Your word gives birth to that relationship. It does not inform me of Christ’s behavior; it establishes my vital contact with it. It is the very irruption of the divine behavior in my life.

Every one of the Saviour’s words is a declaration of His grace. In Jesus, even in His most everyday remarks, it is the Redeemer who speaks. The shadow of the cross falls on all things. No, the sunlight of the cross!

Birth of Jesus in me

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 08:41:19 EST

never the same after Bethlehem

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour
by a Monk of the Eastern Church (translated by a Monk of the Western church)

Chapter I

The Gospel begins with the Genealogy of Jesus Christ. What does this long list of Hebrew names mean?

For the Jews, they felt the necessity of underlining the descent of the Messias from David. Another meaning is that in this lineage there are murderers, adulterers and incestuous persons.

If Jesus is born in my soul, He is born there in spite of and through the accumulation of my sins. Jesus pierces, finds His way through my faults, climbing over them one after the other. It is His genealogy in me. In this break-through shines forth His mercy, His condescension, also His strength.

Mary, bearing the child in her womb, and Joseph, are on their way to be registered at Bethlehem. It is not at Rome, nor at Athens, nor at Jerusalem that Jesus wished to be born. So we can find the mystery of Jesus’ birth only in the poor Judean village. We must go up to Bethlehem, become citizens of Bethlehem, acquire – no, achieve – the humble spirit of Bethlehem.

The angels do not simply say to the shepherds that a Saviour is born. They say: “This day is born to you a Saviour.” Jesus is born for each one of the shepherds. His birth remains for each one of us a very personal event; Jesus is a gift offered to every man.

There is no room in the inn for Mary who is bearing Jesus, nor for Joseph. There is no place in the inn of this world for a disciple of the Master. What dangerous comfort, if I succeed in getting a place for myself there! What do the inn and the manger have in common?

The magi, divinely warned in a dream, return to their country by another road. They must avoid Herod.

In the spiritual sense, he whom God has led to the crib can certainly go back home, to his own country, to his house; but it will be by another road. That is to say, the motives, the attitudes, the manner of existing, the means used, can no longer be the same. When one has gone to Bethlehem, a radical change takes place.

It had been revealed to Simeon that he would not die without seeing the Saviour. Oh! how much I should like to have such a guarantee! Not to die without seeing Jesus – not to see Him with the eyes of the body, but to see Him (to really see Him) with the eyes of faith! After my death, I hope to see Him differently.

To Simeon was granted more than to see Jesus. He held the child in his arms. Lord, let me embrace spirituality the little child.

The angel orders Joseph to take the child and his mother and flee into Egypt. There are times when, because we are too weak, it is better to fly from danger, to draw apart from it. But we must take with us what is more precious: take Jesus, take the child in His smallness, in His own weakness, who will strengthen us in our own weakness. With Him we must take His mother, as the beloved disciple took her, after the ninth hour. The mystery of Mary is inseparable from the mystery of Jesus: a mystery of mercy and affection.

Introduction to 40 meditations

(Monk of the Eastern Church) — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 09:45:21 EST

Dialogue with Our Lord

Jesus A Dialogue with the Saviour

Meg: This is the second book by Lev Gilette, a monk of the eastern orthodox church, who once was a Benedictine. The first one was "A Day with Jesus".

Again, the profoundly prayerful text is posted here for an example. We learn this only by doing our own dialogue with Our Lord.

Introduction by Louis Bouyer. Then, the introduction by the Monk of the Eastern Church.

Among all the books which are published every day, we should consider as priceless those which renew for us our acquaintance with Jesus. Such books are rare. Not because a great deal is not written about Him. But because even the most scholarly research of the historian, the most profound speculations of the theologian, to say nothing of art and literature, often prove incapable of revealing Him.

The bulk of the commentaries is such that one is tempted to bow to them without even catching a glimpse of their content. And it must be avowed that when we approach them nevertheless, too often they burden us and bar our way to Him much more than they open it for us.

A book which does not confine itself to speaking about Jesus, which does not make us dizzy from a lot of tittle-tattle serving only to distract us from speaking to Him ourselves and all the more from hearing Him, is a very rare thing indeed. Yet it seems that such a book has just appeared.

It is a marvelous book originally published in French by the monks of Chevetogne, that dual-rite monastery in Belgium dedicated to the reunion of Christendom, and whose founder Dom Lambert Beauduin has only recently gone to his reward.

This little volume does not even bear the author’s name. We are only told that a monk of the Eastern Church wrote it.

But as soon as you open these pages, you will experience the same impression as you would on opening a vessel of sacred chrism in an Eastern Rite Church. You are surrounded by a heavenly fragrance whose freshness, purity and simplicity are retained in the most exquisite, indivisible mixture of countless flowers.

Some forty short meditations, without any apparent order, recapture the words and scenes of the Gospel. There is no eloquence, no dissertation, no evocation whatever to bog them down. Rather, we find always a direct contact with the soul of the Saviour who speaks to the soul of the reader. “Follow thou Me!” This statement, about which the anonymous writer of these pages has some very decisive words, pervades everything he says.

This contemplative monk has meditated and lived the Gospel (he himself intimates this to the reader) in the holy places of Judea, all along the roads of Galilee. But do not think that he is going to waste his time and ours in some romantic evocation! By simply following, as he does, the steps of Christ, he has been helped (and he helps us) to rediscover that very springing forth of the Word who touches hearts and pierces through them. From a stony heart which belongs to all ages of sinful humanity, He recreates that heart of flesh of which Ezechiel speaks.

We suspect at every page, almost at every line, a refined culture in the one who, though stripped of everything, though poor with Christ who made Himself poor, speaks in such a way (without ever raising his voice) – with such a discreet voice that Jesus Himself does not have to reject it in order to speak to us directly. The language which is so wonderfully dense and transparent is sufficient to prove it. Very quickly one becomes aware that this man has read every book. Yet these books could not hold him back, because through them, as through all things and beyond all things, he was only looking for the One whose call he had heard and which he makes us hear too.

Our pretentious and complicated apostolates create for us the false impression that the man of today cannot hear Christ without all kinds of explanations, rearrangements and especially without endless preparation. Here we have a solitary who is able to make every man hear Christ from the very first word, simply by taking His own words again, but taking them from lips where only the name of Jesus has succeeded in saying everything.

Cast aside all your ponderous, wordy books and read this one. As soon as you have opened it, your whole house, as the Gospel says, will be filled with the odor of sweetness.

Louis Bouyer, Cong. Or.

To You, Lord Jesus, I humbly dedicate these thoughts which have developed during the course of so many years, on the very roads which you have travelled in the days of Your earthly life and in the very city in which You suffered. They are the fruit of Jerusalem and of the Sea of Galilee and the fruit of almost a whole lifetime.

Why add a drop of water to that ocean of books which speak about You? I shall venture to say in all simplicity: it is because I felt that You were telling me, also, to speak about You. “Return to thy house and tell them . . .” And the possessed man whom You cured in the country of the Gerasenes went away and began to announce everything You did for him and how You had pity on him.

It was my hope that, by sharing with others what had been given to me, I would perhaps help a few souls. I have tried to say, in stuttering language, what becomes clear to me when I fixed my gaze on You and what I seemed to hear when I became silent in order to hear Your voice.

There are many things which one could expect to find here but of which I have not spoken. I only wanted to describe, O my Saviour, a few aspects of Your face, a few moments of personal conversation with You, a few phases of a very personal experience. I could not, I would not aspire to anything else. I sometimes had the impression – I ought to say it only with trepidation – that certain words, certain ideas came to me from a distance and from a height far beyond me. Lord, have pity on a poor sinner who has ventured to speak about You without having cleansed his lips with the flaming coal.

I know that my words are of no value, are nothing. The only result I wish for is to touch a few souls and to lead them to You. Lord, lead those who will read my words to the point where abandoning these pages, they will open again, or perhaps for the first time, Your Gospel, - to the point where in silence they will allow Your word to enter their hearts.