Feast of the Transfiguration
Jesus took Peter, James, and John up Mt. Tabor where they saw a vision of Jesus transfigured in a state of glory. Jesus was flanked by Moses and Elijah, representing the law and the prophets. This day, August 6, celebrates this occasion for all to ponder and appreciate.
The priest at Mass this morning commented on many aspects of what occurred and what it meant. He pointed out that a BRIGHT cloud covered them and cast a shadow. This is not the typical thought we might have of clouds casting shadows, but it brought to my mind what St. John of the Cross explains in the use of light and dark. I love this Feast; I love the way Jesus told his disciples to not tell anyone until after the Son of Man had died and ascended. The Transfiguration is, as the priest commented, the bookend at the closure of Jesus' active, public ministry; His Baptism was the bookend holding up the beginning of a series of Jesus' teachings and miracles.
St. Pio, as I've previously mentioned, wrote that one must climb the hill of Calvary before coming to Tabor. He means that we have, like Jesus, to take up our crosses and follow Him. We follow Him through active, public ministry, and into the desert and on the mountains for contemplation, into the Garden of Gethsemani for self-renunciation and giving over completely to the Father's will, in obedience, and then being stripped, whipped, and crucified. This is the basic path toward being transfigured.
The other morning I awoke with intense pain. I thought, "Oh well, it is Friday, after all, and this is the day Jesus suffered in particular." So, I spoke my memorized yet heart-felt prayer: I offer this for love of Thee, for the conversion of sinners, and for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary. This is the prayer that was asked during the great Fatima apparitions of 1917. I take it all quite seriously, for this is serious business. Souls are seriously in need. Souls are eternally serious business. Intense, physical pain reminds me how serious.
With the pain, then, I was reminded of my private vows of suffering first offered a few years ago and accepted by my dear Irish Da, a holy priest who holds my deep respect and love. I renew these vows each year on the Feast of St. Padre Pio, great mystic and stigmatist priest of the 20th century. One line in the vows (which I wrote under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit) says that I will choose the path of greater suffering in any given situation.
So, I considered immediately the prospects of moving to St. Meinrad to take theology courses, and to basically escape the busy city and some frustrations with active, parish life. What is the path of greater suffering? Oh, dear God! It is more than likely that I must choose to remain here and not escape to the rural bliss of monastic existence and stimulating courses. I am probably to read the books which line the shelves--excellent, rich Catholic books covering about everything one might find in a Theology Degree or more: a degree in Mystical Theology, a degree rare if impossible to find these days. Yet, I have the books necessary for both, and Bibles and studies and histories and so forth.
Another idea floated into my mind and caused my heart to flutter with some enthusiasm. It came while I later was reading on in the biography of Blessed Mary of Providence (Eugenie Smet, of France, 19th century, and foundress of the Society of the Helpers of the Holy Souls). The idea is to develop my little "order of one" on another blog site, anonymously, and to write of how to offer ones sufferings as a Victim Soul of the Sacred Heart. So, I mulled this over in prayer and e-mailed a couple of spiritual friends and talked it over with a couple more. This morning in confession, after I dumped my sins which had clogged my soul, I mentioned the idea to the priest. He liked it and found it could be very helpful to others. Perhaps good will come, after all, of my little, aging life. So, I began, and I have so much to write and share and teach on the topic of victim souls. For one thing, I must assure people that not all victim souls--in fact, not most--have strange phenomenon accompanying their sufferings. Being a victim soul is an offering any one who suffers can make, with love and good intention, to Jesus in reparation to His Sacred Heart.
Someone suggested I not use the term "victim soul" as people conjure up the great mystic saints such as St. Padre Pio or St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi or St. Rita of Cascia or many, many others. But, I have prayed, and Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart is the name. We must learn to not be estranged from the truth and realities, and we must learn that there are classifications or levels of victim soulhood, and that not all will have Jesus appear to them and invite them. Many have the faith and the desire to offer themselves without His having to manifest, which surely must be a bother to Him. Souls who have deep faith (such as St. John of the Cross mentions as requisite for climbing to spiritual heights) will trust, in darkness, that Jesus will use their sufferings and accept them as Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. This trusting offering is extremely pleasing and helpful to Jesus.
I plan to update an out-of-print guide and have it available for those who desire it, who desire to be Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. A hundred years ago there was an Assocation of Victim Souls in Union with the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, but it evidently is defunct, as is possibly the religious community of sisters who offered themselves as victim souls to Jesus. If it pleases the Lord, I plan to at least make available information and sharing and opportunity for people in our time of great and varied sufferings, to become Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. This is my life and my vocation, regardless, and it will help in my personal formation as a Victim Soul of the Sacred Heart.
Now, as far as other aspects of my discernment process, here in the city and with parish life, this quote from St. John of the Cross struck me last night in the Adoration Chapel as I read more in The Ascent: "For whatever does not engender humility, charity, mortification, holy simplicity, silence, and so on, of what value is it?"
Indeed--of what value is it? Of what value is it for me to be in an environment in which the humility I need is thwarted by my own humanness and that of others, in which my charity is strained and more often turned to nasty feelings? Of what value is it for me to be mortified, yes, but not necessarily a mortification proffered by God but rather from the devil, and to have lost holy simplicity in my selfish envies and yearnings for an active life?
So, the priest this morning mentioned the life of contemplation. And, yes, I have struggled against this life which is most certainly my calling. The problem, I complained, is that I used to be able to be both contemplative and active--to taste both worlds! Well, he replied, God obviously is not allowing the active world anymore, and he also reminded me how many people would love to have the time to just be with Jesus in adoration. Yes, I know, and I have caused much of my own frustration by not cooperating with God's choice for me: a very good and special choice, but not so easy since active life does provide some distractions which help. But now, God has provided a good form of outlet in this little task of developing the "order of one", the order in which I am, the Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart.
It is a kind of day of transfiguration for me, after all. This recent ordeal in my spiritual journey has taken me from public life and ministry through Gethsemani and my bleatings to God in trying to avoid His will, and in being stripped, beaten, and crucified (in a very small measure, surely, but a death all the same). Now I am climbing out of the tomb and going up Mt. Tabor to see Jesus in glory, even if but briefly. The priest at Mass said he's been there, on Mt. Tabor, and he says it isn't as tall as one would imagine and is more like a rising up from the valley into a large plateau--not the pointed, tall peak of mountains that we might picture in our minds.
The priest at Mass this morning commented on many aspects of what occurred and what it meant. He pointed out that a BRIGHT cloud covered them and cast a shadow. This is not the typical thought we might have of clouds casting shadows, but it brought to my mind what St. John of the Cross explains in the use of light and dark. I love this Feast; I love the way Jesus told his disciples to not tell anyone until after the Son of Man had died and ascended. The Transfiguration is, as the priest commented, the bookend at the closure of Jesus' active, public ministry; His Baptism was the bookend holding up the beginning of a series of Jesus' teachings and miracles.
St. Pio, as I've previously mentioned, wrote that one must climb the hill of Calvary before coming to Tabor. He means that we have, like Jesus, to take up our crosses and follow Him. We follow Him through active, public ministry, and into the desert and on the mountains for contemplation, into the Garden of Gethsemani for self-renunciation and giving over completely to the Father's will, in obedience, and then being stripped, whipped, and crucified. This is the basic path toward being transfigured.
The other morning I awoke with intense pain. I thought, "Oh well, it is Friday, after all, and this is the day Jesus suffered in particular." So, I spoke my memorized yet heart-felt prayer: I offer this for love of Thee, for the conversion of sinners, and for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary. This is the prayer that was asked during the great Fatima apparitions of 1917. I take it all quite seriously, for this is serious business. Souls are seriously in need. Souls are eternally serious business. Intense, physical pain reminds me how serious.
With the pain, then, I was reminded of my private vows of suffering first offered a few years ago and accepted by my dear Irish Da, a holy priest who holds my deep respect and love. I renew these vows each year on the Feast of St. Padre Pio, great mystic and stigmatist priest of the 20th century. One line in the vows (which I wrote under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit) says that I will choose the path of greater suffering in any given situation.
So, I considered immediately the prospects of moving to St. Meinrad to take theology courses, and to basically escape the busy city and some frustrations with active, parish life. What is the path of greater suffering? Oh, dear God! It is more than likely that I must choose to remain here and not escape to the rural bliss of monastic existence and stimulating courses. I am probably to read the books which line the shelves--excellent, rich Catholic books covering about everything one might find in a Theology Degree or more: a degree in Mystical Theology, a degree rare if impossible to find these days. Yet, I have the books necessary for both, and Bibles and studies and histories and so forth.
Another idea floated into my mind and caused my heart to flutter with some enthusiasm. It came while I later was reading on in the biography of Blessed Mary of Providence (Eugenie Smet, of France, 19th century, and foundress of the Society of the Helpers of the Holy Souls). The idea is to develop my little "order of one" on another blog site, anonymously, and to write of how to offer ones sufferings as a Victim Soul of the Sacred Heart. So, I mulled this over in prayer and e-mailed a couple of spiritual friends and talked it over with a couple more. This morning in confession, after I dumped my sins which had clogged my soul, I mentioned the idea to the priest. He liked it and found it could be very helpful to others. Perhaps good will come, after all, of my little, aging life. So, I began, and I have so much to write and share and teach on the topic of victim souls. For one thing, I must assure people that not all victim souls--in fact, not most--have strange phenomenon accompanying their sufferings. Being a victim soul is an offering any one who suffers can make, with love and good intention, to Jesus in reparation to His Sacred Heart.
Someone suggested I not use the term "victim soul" as people conjure up the great mystic saints such as St. Padre Pio or St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi or St. Rita of Cascia or many, many others. But, I have prayed, and Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart is the name. We must learn to not be estranged from the truth and realities, and we must learn that there are classifications or levels of victim soulhood, and that not all will have Jesus appear to them and invite them. Many have the faith and the desire to offer themselves without His having to manifest, which surely must be a bother to Him. Souls who have deep faith (such as St. John of the Cross mentions as requisite for climbing to spiritual heights) will trust, in darkness, that Jesus will use their sufferings and accept them as Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. This trusting offering is extremely pleasing and helpful to Jesus.
I plan to update an out-of-print guide and have it available for those who desire it, who desire to be Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. A hundred years ago there was an Assocation of Victim Souls in Union with the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, but it evidently is defunct, as is possibly the religious community of sisters who offered themselves as victim souls to Jesus. If it pleases the Lord, I plan to at least make available information and sharing and opportunity for people in our time of great and varied sufferings, to become Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart. This is my life and my vocation, regardless, and it will help in my personal formation as a Victim Soul of the Sacred Heart.
Now, as far as other aspects of my discernment process, here in the city and with parish life, this quote from St. John of the Cross struck me last night in the Adoration Chapel as I read more in The Ascent: "For whatever does not engender humility, charity, mortification, holy simplicity, silence, and so on, of what value is it?"
Indeed--of what value is it? Of what value is it for me to be in an environment in which the humility I need is thwarted by my own humanness and that of others, in which my charity is strained and more often turned to nasty feelings? Of what value is it for me to be mortified, yes, but not necessarily a mortification proffered by God but rather from the devil, and to have lost holy simplicity in my selfish envies and yearnings for an active life?
So, the priest this morning mentioned the life of contemplation. And, yes, I have struggled against this life which is most certainly my calling. The problem, I complained, is that I used to be able to be both contemplative and active--to taste both worlds! Well, he replied, God obviously is not allowing the active world anymore, and he also reminded me how many people would love to have the time to just be with Jesus in adoration. Yes, I know, and I have caused much of my own frustration by not cooperating with God's choice for me: a very good and special choice, but not so easy since active life does provide some distractions which help. But now, God has provided a good form of outlet in this little task of developing the "order of one", the order in which I am, the Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart.
It is a kind of day of transfiguration for me, after all. This recent ordeal in my spiritual journey has taken me from public life and ministry through Gethsemani and my bleatings to God in trying to avoid His will, and in being stripped, beaten, and crucified (in a very small measure, surely, but a death all the same). Now I am climbing out of the tomb and going up Mt. Tabor to see Jesus in glory, even if but briefly. The priest at Mass said he's been there, on Mt. Tabor, and he says it isn't as tall as one would imagine and is more like a rising up from the valley into a large plateau--not the pointed, tall peak of mountains that we might picture in our minds.
posted by The Catholic Hermit | 11:49 AM
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