Celibacy and Chastity

”Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst.” – Frederick Buechner

Religion and sex make strange bedfellows (no pun intended). Most often, we see religion and sex intertwined in public discussion when some crusading tel-evangelist launches a rabid tirade protesting the intolerable offenses against God, country, and family found in the lyrics of a new raunchy rock song or a titillating television show. There are also those multiple “below the belt” issues like abortion, sex education, and homosexuality. Of course, we have the other side of the same coin when some investigative reporter decides to pursue and expose hypocrisy in holy places – exposing the successful tel-evangelist brought down by the powers of a seductress or a Puritanical preacher found to be involved with a member of his own congregation. Then, of course, we have the exposure of a number of Catholic priests who molested children. Such incidents make it a daunting task to discuss the morality of sexual issues – particularly in an era of post-sexual-revolution permissiveness and post-modern skepticism about all moral absolutes.

I find, however, that many people are actually seeking to regain a sense of control over their morality. There is a sense of hunger for sexual wholeness that distinguishes between love and lust. There is a lack of innocence that seems to tarnish young people before they become adults and can deal rationally with the issue.

Into this discussion, I throw the terms "celibacy" and "chastity". Please realize that both have very different meanings and are perceived, by many, to be the same thing. Celibacy is the word used by the Church to indicated a state, free of marriage and family requirements, and therefore free of any sexuality, that defines the projected status of a priest, nun, or monk. Chastity, on the other hand, is more of a sane application of sexuality within the bonds of marriage, "forsaking all others," "cleaving one to the other," etc. This is not a discussion of "marriage" - as I see the relationships of committed adults to be of equal value, regardless of their gender. When I use the term "marriage" here, it means any committed relationship between two people.

Of course, celibacy has many problems associated with “public relations” in today’s world and many people believe that anyone who attempts to live in a state of celibacy is asexual, sexually repressed, or sexually perverted. After all, why would a sane person voluntarily place restrictions on something as powerful as sex? Ironically, though, it’s just that power of sexuality that requires us to channel and cultivate it. Like a garden that quickly grows out of control without constant tending, sexuality needs constant care and direction. For me, Franciscan traditions hold a wealth of wisdom and knowledge that allow us to control and turn down the erotically charged voices of our culture and build a “sexual ethic” that combines a reverence for God, respect for our partner/spouse, and realism about the potential dangers of unrestrained sexuality.

Is there an answer?

Do the monks and mystics have something (anything) to say to us that can help us to pull out of this isolation, confusion, and turmoil? I think so. In contrast to the over-the-top sensuality/sexuality of the contemporary Western world, the monks have taught, for centuries, that celibacy, practiced correctly, does indeed have something valuable to say to the rest of us. For centuries, people following the Franciscan Way have committed themselves to three vows: poverty, obedience, and chastity. For the sake of discussion, chastity means making an active decision and effort to order our sexual lives around a higher moral purpose.

The right mushroom can taste great on a steak, but the wrong mushroom can kill you. Fire can warm a home or burn it to the ground. Electricity can light up a room or give you a jolting shock. Likewise, sex can be a source of joy or sorrow, pleasure or pain, deep intimacy or desperate loneliness, gentleness and vulnerability or violence and self-protection. Sex can heal us or hurt us, make us whole or devastate our psyches.

I have found that the secret to living out a vibrant, healthy, and spiritually directed sexuality involves three simple things:

Realizing that there are choices available to us;
Choosing to make the choice that is best for us – our age and state in life; and
Doing whatever it takes to ensure that we are faithful to those choices.

Since there are many choices, we each must make that choice appropriate for ourselves. While some are married, choosing to live faithfully to those vows is the most important virtue they can practice – and builds on the truest definition of chastity. Marriage is a unique relationship that places particular and special demands on us. Not using sexuality as a weapon or a means of control over their partner/spouse is critical. In keeping with the working definition of chastity here – keeping sexual issues “in perspective” – it is imperative that sexuality involved within the marriage be treated as a means of nurturing the relationship between the two people. Sexuality within marriage relies on sexual fidelity, sacrificial love, mutual respect, and lifelong commitment. It is when sexuality ventures away from that nurturing that it moves into that lost world that lacks control and perspective.

Celibacy, on the other hand, which basically means the entire renunciation of sexuality and marriage for the service of God, might seem like a lifestyle that is fine for priests, nuns, and monks, but of little real value to the “rest of us”. Admittedly, it isn’t for everyone. It is considered – in the history of the Church – as a gift for a relative few. But, even here, there is a lesson in the renunciation that can benefit us all. For Francis, like Jesus, celibacy was the only choice. He wanted to live as close as possible to the way Jesus lived. Jesus seems to have indicated that there is no marriage in heaven – that the marriage bonds established on earth are temporary, not eternal (i.e., “'til death do us part”). The only real eternal relationship is with God. Francis wanted to focus all of his energy on developing that eternal, and thereby deeper, relationship with God.

Most of the world’s religions have seen the use of celibacy for those who are studying or serving God. Choosing celibacy allows people the unique freedom to choose amongst so many other things – solitude, prayer, service – in their quest for a relationship with God. Celibacy provides a spiritual focus, a carefree abandon, a physical mobility that provides the opportunity to concentrate directly and entirely on God and His work.

Rules

The rules regarding sexuality in Franciscan communities are strict and clear – based on Francis’ unique insight into the sexual weaknesses into which we might all stray. His approach is based on the realization that we can never really be too sure of our abilities to resist sexual temptation. In preventing accidents, Francis suggested it is better to avoid the occasion of sin. For Francis, this meant a studious avoidance of potentially compromising situations with women. He never met with women alone. When talking with them in public, he made sure to avert his glance from their eyes, telling one friar that he didn’t even know what the women he talked to looked like. Of course, this is a bit extreme – and might even portray a little of the medieval superstition that women somehow have some “power” over men. But, what we can bring away from this image is the teaching that we can bring sexuality under the guidance of our spiritual ideals and the control of our wills.

Francis’ main lessons for us are:

(1) Cherish your sexuality and be aware of how important it is in your personality and life.

(2) Receive your sexuality as a gift from God, but don’t over-value it and don’t under-value it.

(3) Allow sex to help you build a loving and intimate relationship rather than as a cause for tension or jealousy.

(4) Use sex in an “appropriate” way, in a holy way, in a way that respects God and others.

(5) Don’t allow yourself to be conceited about your ability to resist whatever temptations come your way. Instead, set sane limits on yourself and live within them.

(6) If you are married, set limits for yourself and your partner/spouse that you both can agree on and that increase your level of trust and intimacy.

(7) Don’t turn your back on time-tested truths.

Creativity

”We live in a time when man believes himself fabulously capable of creation but he does not know what to create.” – Jose Ortega Y Gasset

Monks have always been given a bad rap. Indeed, my daughter recently mentioned "Monks are weird." People assume that they live lives of darkness, dreariness, and drudgery, praying all day, fasting most of the week, and enduring long periods of imposed silence. This common misperception is carried into the modern world where folks believe that for someone to be really, really religious means that they are also really, really boring. Afterall, isn’t the monk’s day (and so many other faithful people’s day) filled with prayers, rituals, and manual labor that crowd out all time for enjoying life? And… by the way, doesn’t religion somehow teach that it’s sinful to enjoy life?

Actually, this perception of the life of a monk is really a MISconception. Monasteries have long been cradles of creativity and scholarship. In fact, during the Middle Ages, monks were the ones who kept the creativity of western civilization alive! Francis, however, was exceptional even amongst those folks. He was captured (actually enraptured) by the splendor and loveliness of the created world. He was an ardent admirer of the goodness he seemed to find everywhere - the sky, the forest, the fields, even in caves. His life became a seamless garment of praise for the Creator and joy in the beauty of the Created.

Too many people today think that the world is divided into two basic groups: the creative people (usually wealthy and attractive people who perform music, make blockbuster movies, paint masterpieces, or own major interests in financially successful institutions), and “the rest of us”.

Creativity, though, started with God, who made the entire universe out of basically nothing, populated it with a dizzying array of plants and animals, and chose to finish it off by producing the first humans. We need not get into the specifics of the “Creation Story”, but we can see from a casual reading of the opening chapter of Genesis that God chose to reveal something quite unique with His creation of humanity:

“God created man in his own image,
in the image of God He created him;
male and female He created them.”

Unlike the animals and the plants, which also contain and bear witness to God’s graces, humans are created in God’s very image. And part of what that means is that we, too, share in and live through a unique spark of God’s divine, creative spark. Unfortunately, though, so many people don’t view themselves as “creative” beings. In part, this is due to churches that have told people to live within very strict guidelines and rules of conduct, parents and teachers who smother a child’s creativity by telling them to “grow up and get real”, and an educational process (especially here in the United States) that focuses on churning out mass production of graduates who can make a living instead of “daydreaming” or “fantasizing” about being artists. It is no surprise, then, that, after a lifetime of such constant input and overwhelming control, many people simply see themselves as not creative. We develop a sense of believing that creative people are always the other people, those who get paid for making music, art, and literature.

A recent book on human creativity is called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron – a teacher who conducts seminars on unleashing creativity from the strictures of modern life. She refers to God as “the Great Creator” and instructs that the secret of unleashing the creative spirit in humans lies in their “experience of the mystical union” with God Himself. As she says:

“Creativity is God’s gift to us. Using our creativity is our gift back to God.”

In some ways, I think of God as the “Master Musician”. We are His instruments. He gently plucks our strings or fills our lungs to make harmonious music for all of creation to hear.

Through those controlling strictures of society that have crushed our creative natures, we have lost contact with God the Creator. This separation has led into several “mine fields” that have caused greater social evils: racism, sectarianism, militarism, and environmental degradation. If we concentrate on returning to God, I believe we can still create ways that alter the outcome of this pattern.

There was a friar in one of Francis’ first communities that came to him at Mount La Verna to ask for help. He was troubled by some temptation or dejection that was beyond his own strength to resist, and he wanted to resist the evil. Francis told him to bring some paper so that he could write down the “words of the Lord” on which he had been meditating and which had touched his heart. Francis scribbled out thirty four lines of verse that describe the various aspects of God’s character, including:

You are love,
You are wisdom.

You are humility,
You are endurance.

You are rest,
You are peace.

You are joy and gladness,
You are justice and moderation.

You are all our riches,
And You suffice for us.

This short list worked like a prescription to cure the friar’s moral dilemma. What does this episode teach us? I believe it demonstrates that good art (or simply a creative expression of care for the individual – in this case the other friar) can heal us and revive us spiritually. Our God-given creativity can help us see God Himself. One of the clearest examples of this kind of spiritual art are the number of icons, the painted representations of Jesus and the saints, that are used in churches and homes, acting as “windows” into the eternal truths that often escape our attention as we rush through life. In a similar way, I hope that the words and melodies that we sing in church help the parishioners find a doorway or window into the world of God.

For Francis, creativity was both a natural response to God’s amazing grace and an opportunity to share that grace with others. I believe that every creative medium (music, paint, clay, etc) can be used for good or for ill. I can use the telephone to call someone and make their lives miserable or yell obscenities in their ears. I can also use it to call someone and provide a warm message of encouragement and love. All of our God-given talents can be used for positive ends or negative ends.

I’m continually amazed at how little true goodness there is in the so-called “art” world. I count amongst that “art” world the music industry, television, movies, magazines, and even the news media (TV and paper). Stereos, radios, televisions, magazines, and newspapers are constantly in our lives – no matter where we go. It is now difficult to have a meal in a restaurant without having the constant barrage of either mundane television broadcasting or sports programming. Mass-produced entertainment is everywhere: in our homes (TV screens on the refrigerator door?), our cars (DVDs and CDs as well as radio), our offices (internet mail and news updates), public elevators (Muzak), and even in public restrooms! But, with even so much mass-produced “culture” surrounding us, it seems strange that there is so little of it that offers anything of any real, true, or lasting beauty. We’re engulfed in a non-stop barrage of technically proficient, well-produced, and expertly marketed entertainment, but so little of it uplifts out souls. In fact, much of popular culture seems to glorify banality, ugliness, and violence. What a mess we have made of this beautiful gift from God, using our “creativity” in such vile and uninteresting ways. Instead of healing and blessing, so much of this “art” truly tears us down and wears us out.

So… What IS Creativity?

Many people see creativity as the result of some sudden and irresistible burst of imagination. Indeed, the sculptor Michaelangelo described the process of creativity in such terms, indicating that God had put an image into the stone and that the sculptor’s job was to uncover it and to release it from captivity. But, this is obviously a bit false. I could sit for years, chinking away at a block of stone without creating anything in the stone but the destruction of the chips that lay at my feet. That is because creativity is much more than simple inspiration. It is a matter also of hard work, education/learning, and disciplined practice.

Some people also describe creativity in terms of the end product of some kind of divine or miraculous intervention. Miracles DO happen, but often there is some sort of preparation. Even the miracle of Jesus, turning the water into wine at Cana, required the hard work of dozens of servants who had filled the jars with water, carried them to the wedding banquet site, and had made them available. Of course this is not to say that Jesus could not just have easily created the jugs, water, and the wine.

Are We Creative?

Are we exercising our God-given creativity? How do we take the raw materials of our world and create something creative and glorious? Of course, there are all sorts of reasons why many of us are creatively blocked. We can work on that. But, too many of us will fail to realize our God-given potential because we listen to those voices and societal strictures that I mentioned earlier that tell us that the creative folks are always someone else! Instead, we could think of new ways to see things and say things. We could add a little spice to even the most mundane forms of communication. I have seen folks add emot-icons (emotional icons or “smiley” faces) and graphics in their emails. I have added graphics to reports and documents for my clients. I find working in my extensive garden as a release for my creative passions. I also find it interesting to create new ways to spend my periods of “rest and relaxation”.

Since God created us in His image, there are an infinite number of ways for us to create. We can begin by doing everything we can to make our surroundings more beautiful. We can fill a room with flowers or put a fresh vase of flowers on the table for dinner. We can add a chair rail around a room and change the paint color of the room to either "update" the look or make it appear more spontaneous. We can excite our senses by turning off the lights and lighting a few candles – filling the room with a different aroma and noticing the different colors and patterns on the wall. We can excite our ears by turning off the television and listening to a CD of Gregorian chant or some other non-typical (meaning that you don't listen to it in your normal day-to-day experience) music. While we may not understand the Latin of Gregorian chant, the sounds of the music and the emotions expressed can still speak directly to our soul.

A major key to our creativity is that we are not doing this for the applause of others. Our primary audience is God and ourselves. Don’t worry about what other people will think or say. Don’t let other people’s criticism stop you. If praise comes from another human, accept it graciously, allow it to feed your natural spirit, but don’t allow it to turn you toward creating something for "pedestrian" review. Turn off the television and turn on your creativity. Excite your inner artist!

"Men are like trees; each one must put forth the leaf that is created in him.” – Henry Ward Beecher

Humility

Pride makes us hate our equals because they are our equals; our inferiors for fear that they may equal us; our superiors because they are above us. – St John Vianney

We are not the focus of the universe

… even though some of us act as if we are. That might come as a big surprise, but we are not. I have been considering the aspect and the discipline of humility. It appears to me that, amid the immensity and the grandeur of the cosmos, we humans are small and dependent beings whose chief glory – if not our very purpose – is to reflect God’s brilliance as the moon reflects the sun. Too often, though, we allow our pride to get in the way, causing needless sorrow for ourselves and others while preventing ourselves from being what God intended us to be.

Francis had a keen understanding of power – both public and ecclesiastic – and the dangers of human pride. He condemned pride as spiritual enemy number one. Like so many other saints and holy people who had gone before him, he realized that the only way to harness our pride is to practice the virtue of humility.

“The gate of Heaven is very low; only the humble can enter it.” – St Elizabeth Seton

It was pride that disrupted the blissful sojourn of Adam and Eve in the Garden. Pride made them want to become like God, created a situation where they ate of the forbidden fruit, and allowed them to turn their back on the very God had created them. Over the last several thousand years, pride has ceased to be an original concept, but it functions much the same way as it did in the Garden: deluding us into thinking that we will be happier going our own way, creating barriers between ourselves and God and putting up walls of competition, suspicion, envy, and distrust between ourselves and our brothers and sisters.

Pride inflates our egos and desires, making us insist on getting what we want instead of trying to live out the message of the Lord’s Prayer: “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” If left unchecked, pride can be a ravenous cancer that takes over our very souls and ultimately leads to a more permanent death.

The only antidote to pride is humility

Francis articulated a way of life that takes pride more seriously and takes steps to minimize its destructive influence. The cornerstone of this way of life is a clear-eyed comprehension of our humility and our utter dependence on God. But breaking the bonds of pride requires nothing less than a complete conversion, or – more precisely – a lifelong series of conversions. Some of these will be small and insignificant. Others will be more earth-moving and/or devastating. Through these daily conversions, though, God will continue to lead us by the hand and show us that we are not God, only God is.

Pride is everywhere! One needs only to stroll through a bookstore and see the racks of books praising the values of aggressiveness, competition, self-centeredness, and confidence. But Francis taught a radical message of “downward mobility”, living a life of littleness, humbleness, submission, obedience, and service. In every daily situation, Francis chose poverty over wealth, powerlessness over power, and serving over ruling. He wrote: “It is not for us to be wise and calculating in the world’s fashion; we should be guileless, lowly, and pure.”

Testing for humility

One of the best tests of a person’s commitment to humility is to see how he or she treats others. St Paul tells us to consider others as better than ourselves. But how do we do that? How can we be sure that showing humility and treating others as better than ourselves will not lead to a false sense of humility?

I strive, personally, to practice this aspect of humility by treating every person equally and appreciating their unique personalities, talents, gifts, abilities, and willingness to serve the community. For instance, we would starve pretty quickly if other folks didn’t plant, nurture, harvest, and ship their products to the market. Likewise, there are all sorts of folks whose daily work sustains us without our even realizing it.

Of course, nothing keeps us humble like self-awareness. I am acutely aware of my own egotism and the blackness that can dwell at the center of my soul. There is a fine line between being pessimistic or a perpetual malcontent bent on making myself miserable and insecure here. As Francis saw there is a vast spiritual chasm separating the goodness of God and the evil of humanity. While some folks are uncomfortable talking about human evil – possibly in fear of injuring their self-esteem – I am positive it exists. Other people are skeptical about the possibility of human redemption. I am here to tell you that redemption exists.

Francis prefers to construct a world view in which humanity appears as a dust-covered mirror. While it was designed to reflect God’s glory, it is now too dirty to efficiently do the job. But, God and His love can clean us, purify us, and, in the end, make us creatures of spiritual beauty. We are both sinful and spiritual, both frail and dignified. Understanding the balance here will help us to remain humble while allowing us to have a healthy self-esteem without slipping in to some false egotism.

Francis’ emphasis on humility sprang from his desire to imitate the humility of Jesus whose life was framed by two episodes of extreme humility: the Incarnation where He emptied Himself of any divinity to be born in human form and walk amongst us and the Crucifixion where He gave up His life for a sin-filled world. In between these two bookend events, Jesus served the poor and needy, washed the feet of his disciples, and advised those who would follow Him to sit in the lowliest places. Indeed, the very celebration of the mass, the central sacrament of the Church, clearly re-enacts the basic-but-divine humility of Jesus wherein He humbles Himself to hide within the form of a little morsel of bread.

Humility should lead to obedience – a pre-requisite to knowing and doing the will of God. Of course, we Americans worship our individualism and demand independence from governmental or religious control. Mention the word obedience and people conjure up all sorts of images of an abusive religious cult or a nun or priest rapping students’ knuckles.

Francis lived in a world that shared some of our distaste for submission to religious authority. The Church had become entrenched in public affairs – the international disputes between kings and princes – and had grown rich and decadent. Its message held a hollow ring for the people. A series of self-proclaimed reformers and prophets traveled Europe, broke off with Rome, and created their own autonomous movements.

While people have substantially portrayed Francis as a religious revolutionary, he was actually a loyal member and servant of the Church.

While he could have easily led his band of supporters astray and into his own movement, he went to the Church for guidance and approval.

While he was an outspoken critic of the hypocritical and power-hungry leaders, be they religious or secular, he still respected the centuries of Christian tradition and the spiritual authority of the Church.

Practice

There are many opportunities for me to practice and grow in the virtue of humility. Here are ways I have worked out for myself to cultivate this:

When I am around other people, particularly in work-associated meetings, I will endeavor to elicit and promote other peoples’ opinions and views – rather than attempting to drive my own point to the forefront or striving to be the last one to speak on an issue.

When on the Interstates, particularly when driving to/from work, I will be more realistic and treat other drivers with kindness and respect – rather than being shocked at their insensitivity or concentrating on their inability to drive correctly (within the speed or lane limits).

When I deal with other people, particularly those who provide service in public settings (restaurant servers, store clerks, police and fire personnel, etc), I will relate to them as real persons whose service, skill, and humanity mean something to me.

Solitude

The Pond

I’ve been thinking a lot about being alone and what that solitude can give to me, what it can teach me, what I can use from it. The idea hits me that solitude is like looking at a pond on a clear, sunlit day, when the wind is not blowing. The surface of the pond is like a mirror that reflects the clear blueness of the sky, the clouds, and the brilliance of the sun. If I concentrate on penetrating the surface (looking beyond the reflection), I can peer into the calm, motionless water, seeing clear down to the bottom, taking note of the small rocks and pebbles.

The pond changes, though, when it is disturbed by intrusion or some inadvertent activity. The surface is disturbed and agitated by ripples, distorting the once clear and glorious reflection. The water under the surface is no longer clear, being shot through with bubbles and clouded with the upturned sediment.

Our lives are pretty much the same way...

When things are calm, we can see clear to the bottom (or to the core) and detect even the slightest movement or motion. But when things are unsettled, everything is murky, impenetrable, and our understanding is clouded. Unfortunately, few of us have lives that are as completely still and serene as a pond. Life is, for most of us, more like a kitchen blender with its constant humming, blades purring, and its motion making a cosmic puree of the elements of our fast-paced lives. Schedules, events, and relationships all get muddled into some quagmire-like mess.

Francis himself was no hermit or recluse. Instead, he lived a full and active life surrounded by his fellow friars and other people who needed help. He knew, though, the value of solitude, silence, and stillness. He used those times as if they were real treasures, giving himself time to find a well-grounded stability that would allow him to interact with the world more effectively - to re-fuel his energy. Our own lives can be fuller and more effective if we learn how to practice the virtues of solitude, silence, and stillness.

Instead – we seem to fear aloneness. We try to arm ourselves so that it never happens. We choke off every inch of space in our lives with continuous music, chatter, companionship, news, and the many other jangly distractions common to our present world. And, worse, we don’t even really listen to that noise. We allow it to simply be there to fill the vacuum. When the noise stops, there is no inner music to take it’s place.

But, we are not called to be hermits!

Francis built dozens of hermitages – small places of escape for a single person – during his life, but he almost always built them close to towns or villages where people needed him or his friars. This would allow him to be just far enough from the hustle and bustle of city life to allow him to meditate, pray, and re-invigorate himself. He was close enough, then, to serve and minister to others after centering/grounding himself. He worked hard to keep the chaos of city/village life at arm’s length so that it would not corrupt him. He knew, deep down, that the world’s commotion can confuse us, can seduce us, and can suck us into false realities that have little to do with the transcendent, eternal values of worshiping God.

The world’s noise has a way of deflecting or diverting us from the deeper realities of life. It keeps us pre-occupied with the superficial at the expense of the meaningful. It deafens our souls and subdues our hearts. Some would say it deadens our intellect. The saints and mystics of all the world’s religions have sought solitude, but not from an interest in fleeing the world so much as an attempt to run toward God, to know God better, and to hear God’s voice clearly amongst the din of the world. Silence, solitude, and stillness help us to “recuperate spiritual powers that may have been gravely damaged by the noise and rush of a pressurized existence.” – (Thomas Merton)

Solitude seeks to silence a noisy world. It is a tool to quiet our souls which have been wracked to near destruction by their own inner turmoil, tensions, and troubles.

My mind won't stop talking!

I have found, often, that when I attend retreats, whether at a church or a monastery, that my own mind and heart generate an awful lot of noise on their very own! I continually replay and revise conversations I have had with loved ones, with a co-worker, with a convenience store clerk. I worry about the past: Did I do enough? Did I do right? Was I good enough? I fret over the future: Will things work out? Will I know how to accomplish the next task? Etc. I remember things that I have forgotten: some of them good, some of them not so good. I fill my mind with little “mental notes” designed to keep me from forgetting them again. My ego wages a constant battle for self-esteem while I replay little snippets that eat away at that self-esteem. The workings of my mind can resemble a three-ring circus or a noisy carnival that has lost its ringmaster. Instead of a cool, calm, crystal clear pond, I have a murky, muddy, polluted swamp.

Francis designed his life (and mine) around an attempt to live and imitate the live of Jesus. Like Jesus, he spent time in solitude with God before attempting to preach to large, public groups or before making important decisions. He sought solitude whenever he could fit it in, either in prolonged periods of isolation (in hermitages), in brief periods of prayer and meditation, or in hurried prayers said as he worked and walked in the towns and villages of Europe.

For me, silence, solitude, and prayerful meditation have become a way of re-charging my spiritual batteries for deeper, more effective, and more selfless service. Using the Office (Christian Prayer), I find I spend hours a day now in prayer, communing with God. When I am more grounded in silence and prayer, I find that my work is more efficient, energized, and empowered by God’s spirit, and, as a result, more fulfilling. The more time I devote to the Office, the more I get done in periods of activity. Rather than focusing on the activities of my life, I now focus on the batteries.

A passage from Glenn Tinder sums up the way solitude can balance our “private” and “public” lives:

“If you have never, all alone, tried to define your major convictions, you cannot enter into truth-seeking conversation and are thus incapable of deep human relations. If you cannot be apart from others, you cannot engage in prayer and meditation and thus cannot enter into genuine relationship with God. If you recoil from solitude, it may even be said, you are politically disabled; you necessarily lack the spirit of independence needed to stand for what is right in the public realm.” – Glenn Tinder

God doesn't make junk!

Solitude, silence, and stillness – being alone – allows us to “connect” to God. The genius of the Franciscan model is the balance between quiet periods and periods of activity. The periods of silence bring three important benefits to my life:

I know myself better.
I know God better.
I know my purpose better.

Of course, periods of silence and meditation – and examining my own conscience – are not all positive. It’s a bit like looking into that pond. Sometimes I see clear water and the pretty colors of the pebbles and rocks at the bottom. At other times, lurking in the shadows, I find old shoes, discarded tires, empty and rusty cans, and various pieces of garbage. I have seen, at times, a competent, successful adult. At others, I have seen a man who is in many ways a child who has failed as a son, as a husband, as a father, and as a follower of Jesus. But, the solitude has been like a medicine to work on those periods of despondency.

Large doses of God’s love and grace have brought me significant levels of forgiveness and healing. The debris in my pond is being cleared. God doesn’t tell me that the garbage at the bottom of the pond is somehow, miraculously, valuable treasure – or make jewels out of them. Rather, He loves me in spite of them. Knowing God’s love has allowed me to confront those demons, address those issues, and begin a healing of my life.

There is nothing "magical" about solitude that makes God seem suddenly appear or to make Him appear more clearly. God is already everywhere and all the time. It is just that too often we are too busy with everything else to notice Him or to give Him time. By practicing the discipline of solitude, it is possible to create a space in my life where God can be there more fully. Over time, as that space grows, my relationship with God can also grow. Spending time with God, alone, can also help me to know my purpose better. Afterall, God created me and knows best what I should be doing with my life. In addition, solitude helps protect me from the consequences of the dreaded evil twins that bedevil all else in my life:

failure and
success.

Failure can hurt: I imagine something; I plan it; I create it; and then I unveil it to the world. Someone then jeers at it, shocking me and forcing me to retreat. With such life-shattering disapproval, I will think twice about creating something else!

Success can be equally disarming. Applause and approval can often overwhelm us and become more important than the creative act itself. We went to remain popular and loved. We begin to change ourselves to "play to the crowd". We go for the ratings rather than for what we know to be right.

A relationship with God can help us ride out those little episodes as we remember that He values us for who you are and not for what you do. That relationship can only be attained through the disciplines of solitude, silence, and stillness.

Practice

Quiet doesn't just happen. I need to cultivate it and provide places for it to blossom. So, for the beginning of my practice of solitude, I must find a time and a place to quiet the world and concentrate (even meditate) on God. I cannot get hung up on finding that "perfect environment". It just doesn't exist - for me or for anyone else! Instead, I need to make sure to use those distractions that the world tosses in my way. I need to make them a part of my prayer cycle. As the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing described it - picture distractions as floating objects coming at you; move your head and let them pass; continue to focus on God and your own internal questions.

Finding time is equally important and probably more difficult. I have a busy schedule. But, to make my life find itself built around things that are truly important rather than things that are simply urgent, I need to take positive steps. I need to add those prayer times to my schedule and keep them as appointments just as valuable and worthy as any other. Maybe they should be even more valuable.

Joy

"The universe if not a random assortment of atoms and fiery globes spinning and whirling in empty space to their destruction. Rather it is a symphony of rhythm and harmony that expresses the pleasure of its Creator. Divine joy was and is the primal reason for its existence. And, one might add, for ours also." - Sherwood Wirt

Reading about Francis' life is a lot like stepping onto a rollercoaster in an American theme park. His passionate and sometimes impulsive emotional life was full of lofty peaks as well as deep, dark valleys. Francis could be inspired to heights of inexpressible joy by the sight of a single butterfly, the scent of a flower, or overcome by a single note of gentle music from a lute. Of course, he could also experience great sorrow. But, he firmly believed that God, who created us with a vibrant set of emotions, wanted us to let those emotions be a part of how we experience life. One thing is sure: his life was not bland.

Gee, it sounds like my life - a rollercoaster, mixed moods (often at the same time), topsy-turvy days. I can stand in complete awe of a moment in my garden, especially on those days when all of the plants appear to have received enough water and sunlight in the right proportions. But, I can weep at the silliest sentimental moments in a daytime movie.

If Francis were to show up with his messy bundle of emotions at a church in modern America, I'm sure the ushers would attempt to show him the door. I experienced similar reactions a few years ago to the street people in Washington, DC, when one or two would wander into our Sunday services, stand in the back of the room, and someone would gently try to persuade them to leave, explaining that the services were "private." What a horrible commentary on the death of Christian filial spirit in our day.

Worse still… at least in my mind… were the several street people who would “compete” to be the only one (or two) people who waited outside until our services were over. It appeared that they all knew that we left at approximately the same time each week and, as we filed out of the building, in groups of two or three, were easy marks for a handout. We had one particular “regular” that was there every week asking for money. I was never able to tell him that I had seen him carrying several bags of groceries closer to his home. He was not completely homeless or helpless. It just seems that he took a little joy out of seeing us, greeting us, and asking us for cash. He was always friendly and always there.

Happiness vs Joy

In considering the concept of "Joy" today, I considered that there is a complete difference between what we consider "happiness" and what we consider "joy". Frederick Buechner said it best: "Happiness turns up more or less where you'd expect it to - a good marriage, a rewarding job, a pleasant vacation. Joy, on the other hand, is as notoriously unpredictable as the one who bequeaths it."

Francis turned his back on earthly pleasures and worldly wealth to pursue a life of simplicity, poverty, and self-denial. But, at the same time, he became a connoisseur of the arts - a man who enjoyed and worshipped every facet of his daily life. No - there's no real contradiction here. Francis made it completely clear that his experience of joy was a direct result of his walking away from the things in life that steal our joy. He knew the difference between a fleeting and superficial moment of happiness and a deep and abiding joy.

All of us go through moments of torment and suffering. There's no escape from our basic humanity. Yes, those TV self-help gurus tell us we can overcome almost anything by having the right mental attitude. A flood of advertising makes it sound as if happiness and perfect peace can come from purchasing the right shampoo, the right ingredients on our pizza, and the right car/dress/tie/cologne. But, those don't happen when we are confronted by our own humanity and the turmoils of day-to-day life on this planet. Francis, though, showed us that the event is not important; what's important is the way we handle or approach the event.

Indeed, Francis taught us a valuable lesson in his own dying. As he approached death, he grew weaker. But, instead of struggling against the reality, Francis offered God a passionate and humble prayer of submission to God's will. The next morning, when he awoke, he was burning with an active imagination with both words and melodies. He used those emotions, words, and melodies to compose what has come down to us as the Canticle of the Sun - a sublime work of devotion to God and deep respect for creation.

I guess what I've discovered in my own life (and confirmed today while contemplating Joy) - that we cannot experience profound joy as long as we "settle" for skin-deep entertainments or seek protection in illusory safety from tragedy. Instead, we need to look for a godly perspective that will allow us to distinguish between the fleeting and the eternal, the shallow and the deep.

Interestingly, it is often organized religion that creates the most confusion. What is the reason that some "religious" people think God is some sort of cosmic killjoy? Why should sanctity lead to solemnity? Why do so many hymns sound like funeral dirges? Many folks seem to be intent on making God in their own image - cautious and emotionally crippled - forgetting the clear fact that we are made in God's image!

They couldn't get that idea from God. God's emotions are clear: He is gentle, at one moment, with a repentant sinner, and, in the next, angry with a wayward world. God rejoiced as He created the universe. Jesus himself chose as his first miracle the creation of wine for a wedding feast! He openly wept at the death of his friend Lazarus and later cast the moneychangers from the temple. Emotions or passion are not alien to our experience of God and His Son. Each of these teach us that passion, and more importantly Joy, is essential. We were given feelings, emotions, passions through which we can experience more of life and everything in creation more fully.

"Jesus said not: thou shalt not be troubled, thou shalt not be tempted, though shalt not be distressed. But he said: thou shalt not be overcome." - Julian of Norwich

Joy, then, is essential to surviving and thriving in a world full of darkness and bad news. We should not deny reality and sadness. We should not try to convince ourselves that bad is good and that sadness is really joy. We should not run from reality. If we give in to depression, we can become cynical and skeptical, using some sort of perverse filter to block out God's healing love.

How, then, do I promote Joy in my life?

My concept of "original sin" is not built on the simple story of Adam and Eve. "Original sin" is not called original out of some aspect of creativity. It was just the first sin recorded. The key concept in the story is not the disobedience of Eve, but, more importantly, the idea that we, as humans, can attempt to outsmart God or hide ourselves from His presence/knowledge. I think that we still hang onto the belief that we can outsmart God by insisting that we can somehow control our lives and the outcome of our day-to-day existence with no acknowledgement of any higher power or supreme authority. That is a very strong barrier to our experience of Joy.

Trying to control my own life and "manufacture" some sort of happiness has lead to all sorts of frustration, sadness, and anger. It has affected not only my own life... but also the lives of my children, their mother, and my extended family.

Joy, though, comes from abandoning ourselves into the Hands of God. Ironically, this submission doesn't result in some defeatist, pessimistic life that is separated from the rhythms of life. Instead... it connects us to life in a far deeper and more passionate state.

How do I submit to God's control of my life?

Be present - Not worrying about tomorrow is difficult for us. The Jesuit writer Jean Pierre DeCoussaid described this kind of attention to the "here and now" as the "sacrament of the present moment". This doesn't mean I cannot make plans for tomorrow or have hopes for the future. It does mean, though, that too much preoccupation about the future - or even being too consumed with the past - keeps us from concentrating on the beauty of the moment and the promise of the present.

Be thankful - (1) Starting each day with a prayer of thankfulness and a dedication of the day to God's glory and (2) ending the day with a prayer of thankfulness for the blessings of the day - will allow me to ensure that God is thanked for anchoring both ends of my day. The events in between rising and going to bed will be left to God's control and "experienced" in the moment.

Be forgiving - Many of us walk around with a dark cloud (that we create ourselves) that consists of our regrets over personal failures or our unfaithfulness to ourselves or others. Another part of that same cloud consists of emotional baggage and bondage that we bring on ourselves when we fail to forgive ourselves or, sometimes more importantly, others. Failing to forgive ourselves and others is an illusory attempt to continue that silly notion of control over our lives, but it leads us to a state of victimization. Worse, we are victims of our own thoughts.

We spend so much of our lives in unworthy pursuits suffering the consequences of sadness, sorrow, and suffering. Instead of setting out on an impossible quest for "happiness", we need to seek real "joy" - leading to a more fulfilling, enriched, and emotionally rewarding way of life.

Simple Living

Today I have contemplated the concept of "simplicity" and how it affects my life. Simplicity or... more clearly... living with a virtue of simplicity is a time-tested tool that we humans can use to prune our lives - voluntarily submitting our lives to an ongoing pruning process that removes our irregularities, trims our unproductive growth, and prepares us for a future of fruitfulness and productivity. Simplicity is a spiritual practice that has been at the heart of the monastic way of life for many centuries.

If ever simplicity was needed, it's today. We live in a time and place where simplicity is desperately needed. We live in a time that is fast-paced, consumer-oriented, and information-overloaded. This is not entirely or even dramatically different from Francis' time 800 years ago.

Francis saw a world with huge socio-economic barriers between the rich and poor. The carnality of his age seemed to overwhelm everything, including the church, which itself had become one of the most powerful international banking institutions of the Middle Ages. But, as Francis reflected on the life and words of Jesus, he was confronted time and time again with Christ's simple lifestyle, His warnings about the dangers of money, and His commandments to His followers to sell all they owned. As I contemplate simplicity, I see the same teachings and wonder how to practice them in my life.

Simplicity is not a specialized discipline for monks or other unusual individuals seeking an advanced degree of enlightenment. Instead, simplicity can be a garden from which all other spiritual virtues grow. Simplicity is a prerequisite to our being both fully human and fully spiritual. Like the branches of an unpruned tree, our attachment to possessions, wealth, and plans for the future chokes our lives, enslaves our souls, and hinders both human community and union with God.

Seeking simplicity is not a new idea

As long as there have been cities, civilizations, and technology, sensitive souls have sounded an alarm about the corrosive consequences of chaos and complexity in our lives. In 1845, one of my heroes, Henry David Thoreau, a writer and naturalist, turned his back on the hustle and bustle of Concord, Mass, and went to live in a simple cabin in the woods near a place called Walden Pond. He remained there for two years, two months, and two days concentrating (some would say meditating) on "the essential facts of life".

More than 100 years later, E F Schumacher wrote Small Is Beautiful, an eloquently written manifesto about the threat of technology and economic growth run rampant. He helped inspire a growing concern for simpler ways of living. His philosophy has found expression in a variety of movements emphasizing conservation, ecology, sustainable lifestyles, natural foods, and a broad range of social and economic justice. But, for all that enlightenment, these movements have done little to help the millions of folks who are regularly run ragged by too much tension, too many choices, and too little peace in a world spinning wildly out of control. Clearly, something is out of balance.

Living a life engrossed in the cares and chaos of the current world is not only bad for us, personally, it is bad for the world itself. Take for instance the very idea of consumerism. While North Americans are a VERY small percentage of the world's population, we consume a disproportionately large amount of the world's limited resources. We live in a world where the few possess much... while many do not have the basic necessities to meet even their most basic needs.

Live simply so that others may simply live. - Gandhi

We don't have to live the life of a cloistered monk or the life of an itinerant mendicant to follow God's call to simplicity. Francis described a third, more mainstream model: practicing equality in a world of savage disparity. Paul, in his second letter to the Corinthians, encouraged those believers to consider the welfare of their neighbors "as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply [others'] needs, so that their surplus may also supply your needs, that there may be equality." This equality-based model for living is both a matter of urgent practicality and a potent symbol of spritual intent. The effort to simplify and consume less is a real way to decrease our emphasis on self-gratification and increase our ability to share with others.

Manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires. - Lao-Tzu

We also don't have to plunge ourselves into abject poverty to meet the call to simplicity. There is a "middle road", an important step that we can take that will help us begin the process of living more simply. That step involves distinguishing between our wants and our needs. It is difficult for us (as Americans) who have been born and raised on a steady diet of capitalism, consumerism, and advertising. How do we sort through all the confusion? There is no simple formula. What we can do, though, is to strive toward distinguishing between food that is a need and the "desire" for a medium-rare T-bone steak; between clothing that we need and the "desire" for a designer suit with matching shoes; between housing that is a need and the "desire" for a split-level ranch with attached garage, walk-in closets, and three bathrooms.

Not all wants are bad or destructive. But a life consumed by fulfilling those wants is a recipe for frustration and unhappiness. If we seek simplicity, distinguish between wants and needs, we can prune our lives and cut away the things that hinder our growth. While daily life forces us to make hundreds of decisions, many of them seem unimportant. But if we consistently apply the ideal of simplicity to even the most mundane of those decisions and choices, we can begin living simply in the midst of a complex and often confusing culture.By pruning the tangled branches of our lives, we accomplish two things at once:

(1) cutting back the areas of our lives that have grown wildly out of control
and threaten to kill us or drive us crazy; and

(2) channelling our future growth toward a simpler approach to living.

Putting this all into Practice

My personal plan for achieving some simplicity:

(1) Return to a life of vegetarian eating - avoiding the hazards of an agribusiness-dominated food industry that depends on high-tech equipment and large doses of chemical fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides.

(2) Promote vegetable protein in my own diet by consuming more beans, rice, and other protein rich foods that are simpler to prepare and less expensive to purchase.

(3) Use the age-old gift of fasting on at least one day (preferably two days) a week to help clarify the differences between food needs and food wants. Fasting also cleanses the body, enhances the power of the mind, sensitizes us to the needs of the spirit, breaks our addictions to unhealthy eating habits, and makes a significant symbolic statement about the desire to stand against the
excesses of our consumer culture.

(4) Pare down my years’ accumulation of clothing (sadly, in varying sizes) and give the excess to the poor.

(5) Change the clothing that remains to simplify my "style", concentrating less on the "in style", fashion, or in-your-face sexuality that is part/parcel of the mass consumerism of clothing markets. Afterall, the majority of the "in" clothing is uncomfortable, uncomplimentary, unhealthy, and almost instantly out-of-date.

Simplicity is a gift. It is a doorway that allows other gifts into our lives.

Why Francis?

I hope, here, to more fully discuss why I have chosen St Francis as a role model and how the life, writings, and legacy of this beloved thirteenth-century saint can offer us guidance on our paths to greater peace, spirituality, and joy - incorporating the Franciscan philosophy into our daily existence, taking more meaningful steps toward lives of greater simplicity and deeper spirituality - affecting the way we live every hour, every day.

Ours is a time of great spiritual hunger. People like me are thirsting for the sacred, the mysterious, the mystical. We are looking for more than a good job, a full closet, and a balanced (and full) checkbook.

Maybe it's no surprise that much of today's hunger for things spiritual is being met outside of traditional churches and formal religious institutions. In some ways, our present world is remarkably similar to a time over 800 years ago when Francis transformed his world and renewed an entire church by a simple but revolutionary act: practicing the Christian faith as it had never been practiced before...

in the appearance of his life, in the simplicity of his words, in the purity of his heart, in his love for God, in his fraternal charity, in his ardent obedience, in his peaceful submission... - Thomas of Celano

The church of Francis' time, the Middle Ages just prior to the Renaissance, was a big, wealthy, bureaucratically entrenched and politically influential institution whose leaders seemed more life self-centered, power-hungry civil authorities than selfless servants of God and humanity. Some of that has not changed... and appears more entrenched today. Francis, though, took the words of Jesus to heart, understood what they meant, and sought out ways to practice them in his daily life.

So... as I asked at the beginning of this meditation... Why Francis?

I will try to address that in several snipets, explaining some of the various facets of his life that attract me to his life and teachings:

He practiced what he preached - At a time like ours, the beginning of the third milennium, we find a world where wrapping oneself in the rhetoric of godliness is a sure way to win votes, to gain respect, or to sell records and/or books. Francis, on the otherhand, is a startling example of someone who lived his faith more than he talked about it. In his many private moments, his relationships, and his public ministry, he pointed a probing finger at himself - his own weaknesses and shortcomings - instead of busying himself with the failings of others. By an example of a simple and radically committed life, he revealed a sometimes mysterious Christ to a world that could not, or often would not, see him.

He was real - Far too often, books about saints and godly men and women read like religious fairy tales - devoid of all dramatic tension or suspense. But, because he came to God from a life of worldly successes and carefree disbelief, Francis is the very opposite of an otherworldly stained-glass saint. Saintly without being sanctimonious, Francis knew sin firsthand in his own personal life, not merely as an abstract theological dogma but as a personal reality and weakness.

He was radical - For many people today, being "Christian" is roughly equivalent in time and emotional commitment to being a member of a neighborhood bridge club, having a seat at the local Elks/Moose/Eagles lodge, or getting the family car serviced. Unfortunately, this type of Christianity is often viewed as just another civic affiliation - an acquired habit or social ritual. Francis saw another alternative: a spark of divine love that ignited a bonfire that burned away all indifference and sparked a radical, uncompromising faith. Francis desired - above all else and minute-by-minute - to follow God more closely.

He was loving - People who came into Francis' very presence could sense the love he felt for them and were drawn closer to his embracing warmth, his compassionate concern, and his willingness to spend himself in serving their needs. His manner held no judgmentalism, no remote transcendentalism, no icy intellectualism. In our world, where clashes over religion and deeply held values divide people around the globe, we could learn much from Francis, a model for respect and civility.

He was passionate - God, for Francis, was not a dry theological concept. The Christian life is not a collection of dusty religious rules and rituals. Instead, his faith was that of of man who passionately and desperately loved God. We could do well to embrace such passion.

He gives us hope - Francis' emphasis on innocence, hope, and the positive possibilities of faith in God gives me encouragement that underneath all the barnacles, callouses, scabs, scars, and cultural accretions that burden the current state of Christianity - and obscure it from view - there is a pure, powerful heartbeat of love that continues to draw us closer to God.

A BIT OF HISTORY

I come to this from a little bit of history and life in the latter half of the 20th Century, coming to early adulthood in the last days of the 1960s - a period of social turmoil, heightened spiritual searching, and terrific hope for the future. I was quite happy to be a part of that burgeoning movement that seemed to demand answers to hard questions and sought to reinvent society from bottom up. I remember making a personal mantra out of the code words of the day: "Make the world a better place!"

But - certain inconsistencies in the movement kept interrupting, startling, and troubling me. Protesters who argued for peace were not opposed to using force and even violence when it suited them or their objective. People searching for a mystical revelation experimented with mind-transforming (and harmful) drugs, dabbled in extremes, and became so clouded and myopic that they lost all passion for their spiritual pursuits, changing the world, or even making it through the day.

My own hunger for spiritual answers took a different form. In college, I became a member of Campus Crusade, becoming a fuming fundamentalist, a walking, talking "Jesus Freak" who could (and did) quote the Bible or dispense judgment at the drop of a hat. Presented with a problem, I had just the appropriate Bible verse. I was angry; I was arrogant. Unfortunately, I was also horrible to be around. All of this... in the name of Jesus.

I knew something was wrong, though, and wrestled with soul-searching questions. Hadn't I done exactly as I was supposed to do? Wasn't I the "good boy" I was expected to be? Where were the answers? In the end, I concluded that the Christianity I was living and the Christianity I saw around me were nothing like what I read about in the Gospels. The answers had to be elsewhere.

Convinced that organized religion was, in some way, part of the problem rather than part of the solution, I began to study other spiritual paths: Zen Buddhism, Druidism, Taoism. I even sought solice in the teachings of the Native American religions espoused by some of the more popular authors of the 60s and 70s. But none of these seemed to answer that deep-seated need to know and serve God.

In my search for answers, I re-found Francis and his teachings. I have known him and his teachings for a long while, but I am now committed to following him. Francis did it:

He lived a balanced and beautiful Christian life.

He was the genuine article: a human being who sought the same things I have been seeking - a way to live and serve God while still being "in the world".

He lived a life of poverty when all I was seeing were typical, upper middle-class American Christians trying to balance their love of God with their love of money.

He lived a life of mystical connection to God when all I saw was a cold and rationalistic form of Christianity that was all head and no heart.

He lived a life of gentleness when all I saw was an arrogant, aggressive, my-way-or-the-highway Christianity.

He lived a life of joy and radical commitment when all I saw was an antiseptic, pedantic, down-the-middle-of-the-road kind of Christianity that killed the spirit and squashed the joy.

I am here. I have found Francis and his path to Jesus to be the "best fit" for me.