by Mary Grace Thul, OP
I like words. But words hold no real power by themselves. Perhaps that is why Jesus never left us anything in writing. He knew that somehow, we would get stuck on the words, and miss the message.
Antonin Gilbert Sertillanges writes How did the Savior proceed in his preaching? He offers no text, no system, and nothing organized or presented according to any order whatsoever. He presents himself, and it is he who is the doctrine and the truth. He permits himself to be seen, and that is already teaching; he acts, and that is teaching; he speaks, and the teaching becomes more precise, but without being fitted into the adapted framework of a system. His message exposes itself to the apparent chance of circumstances, and it is the ordinary environment of Jewish life that will be that of his apostolate…
All of this speaks to the power of being. I find myself so persuaded by good words that I sometimes forget the real power comes only when I am convinced of their truth. Because words can do nothing for me by themselves. To go beyond, I must find the spirit and become transformed, enlightened, and inspired.
If I stay with words, I will get caught up in discrepancies, in accurate histories, in contradictions. If I look at the model, I will be able to bypass all of those cracks and see a person, one giving me an example. I am the Way, the Truth and the Life Jesus is quoted as saying in John 14:6. And Jesus’ way is free-flowing, appropriate, and sustainable. He refused to be caught up with the politics of his times. Because he came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly (Jn. 10:10).
About Amy
Who am I? That is a question I still can't answer. One thing for certain, I am a pilgrim on a journey. I began this journey as a monastic many years ago. I lived in a very simple monastery in the Southern US, a place with a wonderful heritage and history, one quite unusual for its time. But as much as I loved the life, felt fed by the rhythm it offered me, I could not fit into the structure. It took me a long, long, long time to accept that, and move on.
But moving on means so many things. For me, it means taking on new challenges, stepping into zones in which I sometimes find I am neither comfortable nor well suited. It means stepping forward and stepping backward, and sometimes, stepping aside. It means peering into that looking glass called Jesus and trying to find me in there too.
In all my journeys, I continue to do my best to preserve my greatest treasure, my monastic experience. That doesn't so much involve keeping faith and hope, prayer and a spiritual outlook on life. It means living my monastic experience in the best way I can, here and now. That means continuing to be still before God, in an attitude to listen; to hold closely to the beauty of silence, a silence so deeply experienced nothing else can come close to its power; to practice the deeply spiritual exercise of Lectio Divina.
This is what I am attempting to share on this blog. I want others to realize that the monastic treasures aren't the sole privilege of those hidden behind a monastery wall. They belong to each and every one of us who are serious about the mystical and spiritual life. No one can lay claim to having special access to God. Each one of us finds him every time we make room for him in the life we are living.
I am hoping to encourage individuals in their pursuit of this deeply enriching life of grace, life of meditation, life of reflection, self-reflection, silence and stillness. I'd love to hear from you, to know your own journey, to share my journey with you. Drop me a line, or post some comment. It is good for all of us to share.
