CowPi Journal

On a country road in Kentucky where the pavement changes from blacktop to dirt, the sign posted says: Pick rut carefully, you’ll be stuck in it for next 20 miles.

It is so challenging to lead when one can not grasp the Way.
Even more challenging when one knows from experience
too many of the irrelevant detours available,
to hear
the voice of one crying out in a self imposed wilderness
because this is the only way one perceives the Light…
through intimacy with darkness.

do not be afraid, I am here.

The call to be prophet
when one desires only silence.
The call to use words
when one desires only presence.

do not be afraid, I am here.

The gift of vision
when one wants ignorance
of the pain of the acceptance
hidden within the cross
of one’s personal journey.

do not be afraid, I am here.

May we be graced
with the humility to desire
the masquerading glory
hidden within the cross
of one’s personal journey.

do not be afraid, I am here.

Within darkness I see the Light.
Embracing my lostness I am found.
Listening I am heard.
Hidden within the Cross
is my personal journey…
and yours.

do not be afraid, I am here
and I am here too.

— asmn

There is a story behind this poem. Perhaps I will be given an opportunity to write about it in the near future. Thank You. Thank you asmn.

Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux (Holy Cross be my light)

From Br. Joseph —

I will raise up a prophet like you among their kinsmen, and will put my words into his mouth; he shall tell them all that I command. If any man will not listen…
(from Deuteronomy)

A colleague addressed me yesterday in the hallway with a warm smile and a friendly, “Hey you.” I returned a big grin. It immediately reminded me of an odd little story called “The Prophet” by Edward Hays (from his book Twelve and One-half Keys).

In this story, an elderly priest bent down to kiss the Holy Bible after the gospel reading during Mass. When he rose back up, his lips had mystically formed the letters Y-O-U in black, two-inch tall lettering. The congregation was in shock. Looking back down at the page, the same word was absent from the printed sentence. The poor priest could no longer speak. It did not hurt except when he tried to pry the letters from his lips. He mumbled his way through the rest of the Mass.

Later, alone in the rectory, the priest thought to himself, “Why, Lord? Why this word out of all the words in the gospel? Surely if a special word was to come, would it not be the sacred name of Jesus, or even the name of God? But this word; why did this small, unimportant word leap off the page and fasten itself to my lips?”

A few days later, the priest met with the bishop. The bishop assigned another to be pastor of the parish and invited the priest to live and work with him. The bishop said to the priest, “You can no longer preach the gospel, you must be the gospel!”

In the years following, the priest picked up the nickname “Father You-who.” It was a logical joke with the letters Y-O-U on his lips. To whom did they refer? Who was YOU? God? The person who looked upon the priest? Who indeed? And as with most prophets, humor was the best defense against the power of their message.

After ten years of faithful service, the priest died. As the priest lay dying, having received the sacraments of the Church, and with his close friend the bishop at his side, the priest tried to speak to thank his friend for their friendship but could not. Suddenly the letters shrunk and disappeared. Slowly, as if tasting a rare wine, the priest closed his lips and then opened them again to faintly whisper, “You!” It was the last word of the dying priest.

Afterwards, the bishop remembered something from long ago, that in the Orient, it is believed you will go straight to heaven if you die with the name of God upon your lips.

Love is about YOU.
We are members of the Body of Christ,
Branches on the Vine,
YOU and I…

Kind of gives “Hey you!” a whole new meaning!?

Our Lady of Mercy, pray for us…

You realize that prayer takes us beyond the law. When you are praying you are, in a certain sense, an outlaw. There is no law between the heart and God. (Thomas Merton)

I have been mulling over this quote I discovered a several days ago. It bothers me. It is from a writer and spiritual sojourner that has illuminated some of the landscape for me. It bothers me not in a potential deep paradigm shift kind of bothering, but as a “why did he say it that way” kind of bothering. Bothering can be good. It is a form of grace that helps open us up to see things in a new way if we let it.

The problem stems from the use of the word law. It is loaded with varied connotations within Christianity.

If Merton meant “the law” as a bunch of rules, rituals, and regulations that formed a system for morality, then his quote makes sense. God and prayer and love itself are above a bunch of rules. Following a set of rules in hope of getting into heaven and avoiding hell is not love. Religion and faith is not about following rules; it is about love, about conforming oneself to be like Jesus. My suspicion is this is what Merton was implying.

BUT, if Merton meant “the law” as in the Torah, then this contradicts Scripture and good Christology. The Torah, the Law, is not simply a set of rules (i.e. 10 Commandments, etc.) to live your life. In Judaism, the law is a gift from God to the Jewish people. It is their connection, their way to God. The law is part of God.

Jesus claimed to be the fulfillment of the law. In other words, he implied that he was the embodiment (incarnation) of the law—He is the Torah. This is an ontological statement about the nature of Jesus. (This is also one of the primary reasons why many Jews rejected Jesus. It was not so much that he was breaking some of the rules; they could not accept him being the law.)

Christians believe that the only way to God is Jesus, and thus prayer (and everything) is “through Him, with Him and in Him”. And thus the contradiction in Merton’s quote: If prayer is through Jesus and the law (the Torah) is part of what/who Jesus is, then prayer cannot be beyond the law. To be an outlaw would be outside of Jesus and thus outside the way to God. (This of course is also an impossibility because nothing can be outside of God.)

Merton knew that the word law was loaded with connotations. Why did he use it? Did he use it for the effect of cultural coolness of being an outlaw? Maybe. Did he use it as a shorthand way to describe rules, rituals, or methods and such that may be used with prayer? Maybe. Or did he mean it as a comment on the rules used within morality and religion? Maybe. I don’t know. I am going to have to look up the source of the quote in Thomas Merton in Alaska: The Alaskan Conferences, Journals, and Letters. Quotes out of context can be misinterpreted.

As I said above, I suspect that Merton meant it in the first case, but I am not certain. The longer I look at it, the quote looks more like the second case. This seems incongruent with what I know of Merton. He could have misspoke. He was, after all, human and quite capable of error too. Regardless of why he used the word law, it is not a very good quote. It sounds like a sound bite or a flashy slogan designed to catch attention instead of pointing to truth.

Either way, ignoring the words law and outlaw, Merton is correct. There is no thing between the heart and God.