Welcome to our “little cloister”
where we
EXPLORE MONASTIC WISDOM FOR EVERY DAY LIVING
Drs. Almut & Chuck with little one
Home of
+The Hildegard Seminar,
+Kierkegaard Masterclass,
+Bach Passionweek Consolations,
+The 12 Days of Christmas Contemplations &
+The “Little School” of Spiritual Formation
All in Lenten reflection
I gave a talk on the cursing psalms the day after Al Qaeda-inspired terrorists attacked multiple targets in the USA. In these days of renewed war in Europe, what shall we do with our sorrow, our despair, and our anger at such naked aggression, mass slaughter, and soulless calculation for war? Poetry gives us words for our unspoken, and unspeakable, feelings.
There is much to learn in the seasons of the church year even for not so churchy people. With patience and persistence it calls us into movements of heart, like passion week calls us into tending to our sorrows. Being called to mourning is an existential task. No religion can do it for us. It cannot be mere theater that we watch. But religion can help us to be reminded and can provide for us an occasion. There is no resurrection, no new beginning without the deep mourning of the old, without letting go what we loved so dearly, without mourning our losses.
The gift of Lent is practicing the luminous in everyday living. Let us expand our image of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer and use them as ways to open us to the divine in our daily routine.
Consider the phrase “luminous darkness.” What does that look like-shining, shimmering, reflecting, glossy, black? Where do we find that deep, rich black that shines and illuminates? Or consider “generative darkness.” Who brings us that deep, fecund, nourishing dark soil? In this Lenten time of repentance, our guest writer, Marian McKone offers us these images of darkness as a corrective to our limited stereotypes of dark and light. She draws us gently towards the darkness as a positive image of nourishment and clarity of vision, and provides us with inspiring examples of luminous and generative people of color.
What if we would see our Lenten journey as a wonderful invitation instead a time of penitence? A time to discover our deep longing and yearning, to create space to invite the voice of Life to speak? Maybe in the hot, dry, dizzying place of the desert we might see beauty, discover life lessons from nature and unearth sustenance from simple things. Maybe in our thirst we will experience moments of Oneness and explore who we are and whose we are.
