On Searching

Recently I received an email from a friend who was commenting on my return to Catholicism and my decision to become a Benedictine Oblate. She, too, has been on a long spiritual search, an inner journey not unlike what I have gone through. In her email she said she hoped the road I have chosen is helping me to find what I am searching for. She said, maybe one day she will find her path, too, although she is not unhappy with leaving her options open and learning from a variety of sources. She thinks that pretty much is her path, and it suits her.

These words led me to ponder my "search." I thought about what my search had been and considered if I was still searching, and I thought about her statement that her search is her life path.

I came to wonder how much of what I and others refer to as searching is actually running from the truth. Having been raised in the Catholic tradition, and spending some adult years as an evangelical protestant before going back to Catholicism, I had a firm rooting in Christian doctrine, and had approached and lived it from a number of differing angles. For many years I was unmovable on that front; God was real, Jesus was real, the Holy Spirit was real. In hindsight I find that I began searching when Christianity reached a point where it began to make demands on me. It was a point where I was being called to move deeper into faith and trust in God. It was a time when I was being asked to grow spiritually and emotionally. These are steps that are hard for the ego to take.

Moving deeper into faith and trust requires a relinquishing of control. We live in a society that tells us we not only can, but we should, be self-sufficient. We should determine what is best for our own lives then we should reach out and grab the gold ring whether or not the carousel is turning. Many are successful living by that philosophy. The world is full of successful people who have never had a belief in a deity of any sort and who have achieved their goals out of a sheer bulldog determination. But there is freedom and comfort in the knowledge that we don’t have to do it on our own. What incredible freedom in knowing there is a loving God who will help us work out our lives and achieve our dreams. That’s what the letting go gives us.

There is a price, however, and the price tag that hangs on this gift is labeled "growth." When children are in a growing spurt they experience growing pains. Their limbs give off aches and twinges as their bones and muscles stretch. As adults we are still growing. This growth is spiritual and emotional. Whenever our lives are faced with challenges we have two choices. We can face the challenge with the level of spiritual and emotional development we have already reached, or we can let the new experience stretch us and move us to the next level. Like any other kind of growth, this growth is painful. There are challenges that will require us to dig deep within ourselves and find a source of strength we’ve never had to tap into before if we are to move beyond the challenge and arrive at the other side of it stronger than we began. Arriving stronger is the one assurance we can take with us when we choose to take that step forward, to make that conscious move into the realm of growth. Again, there are many people who do this on their own, and again I say how much better it is to make this journey knowing you are not making it alone, knowing that there is a Source of strength to tap into and draw from that is inexhaustible. The growth is still painful, but I can honestly say that looking back on every challenge I’ve faced, the pain that seemed so harsh in the growth process is hardly remembered in hindsight. I am reminded of the parable in John 16:21 - "When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world." Like that woman, our growth pains can be seen as a labor, but once it is over and we have given birth to our new inner child, our new strength, then the pain is forgotten in our joy.

The years I spent searching for spiritual truth were years spent running from this call to faith, trust and growth. Yet, those years were not wasted. As promised in Romans 8:28, "We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose." Though I was running from faith, trust and growth, God used the experiences of those years to increase my faith and trust, and to help me grow.

My friend says that searching is her path and it suits her. At one time I would have agreed with her. At that time I would have declared that it was the journey that was important, not the destination. Yet it wasn’t until I stopped and turned to face the Hound of Heaven head on that I realized my searching was in fact a running away, and all that I had been searching for had already been offered to me. I had merely lacked the courage to accept the gift.

To a two dimensional world that needs to see everything as black or white I suppose it would look as if I had reached a destination and abandoned the journey, but that isn’t so. I have found a destination in God, but God is multi-dimensional, making it possible to be at a destination and still continue the journey.

copywrite 2009 M. Romeo LaFlamme

Step One

Last night following Mass I was invested as a novice Benedictine Oblate. It was a quiet event; just me, my wife, Father Boyd, and a woman he managed to enlist at the last minute to assist him.

Father lit two candles on the altar. There was a prayer and a reading from the Rule of Saint Benedict. I was questioned if this was something I wanted to do. I signed my name to a brief statement of intent on the Altar. Then the scapular was blessed and placed over my shoulders. I was given a copy of The Rule of Saint Benedict. There was a final prayer and blessing, a picture was taken, and I was sent on my way.

It was a very nondescript ritual. Life didn’t come to a halt but continued around us. There were people observing adoration in the Eucharistic Chapel. A couple who appeared to be on the verge of getting married were having preliminary photos taken in the Basilica. The Basilica is a national historic site and after each Mass there is a tour for those who are interested; one such tour was taking place. As I made my way up to the Altar to sign the statement I couldn’t help but notice that the tour was at the point where the crypt was opened to show where the Basilica’s architect, Rafael Guastavino, is interred. As I signed the statement the tour proceeded into the Marian Chapel.

Nothing miraculous happened. There was no choir of cherubim, no holy trumpets, at least not that I could hear. There was no glowing corona of light around my head, at least not that I could see. But then I didn’t expect any of that. There was nothing outwardly dynamic about the whole event; it was quiet, intimate, unassuming, and yet I can’t help but feel that I have taken a very important step in my life.

A Lesson In Forgiveness

Lately I’ve had a lesson in forgiveness. Its outcome was not what I had expected.

I had been praying about my life and where it appeared it was going, and also praying about not seeing myself as being up to the tasks. There were several areas in my life that I could see still needed some growth. Of course, there will always be areas of my life where growth is required. Growth is ever ongoing and it comes down to how much growth we are willing to accept and push forward with. In the case at hand, however, there were several areas which I could clearly see needed to be dealt with. I’ve learned that the best place to address these kinds of issues is in prayer so that is where I took it.

Some time after I began praying for clarification in how to get over the next set of personal hurdles a co-worker, out of the blue, asked me if I had read a book called Secrets Of The Vine. I said that I hadn’t and she said she would bring it in for me. I put the thought out of my mind until a week later she showed up in my office with the book. I thanked her, set the book aside and continued working. The book stayed in my office for several days as I kept forgetting to put it in my briefcase. Finally, it made its way home with me.

I began reading the book and it took me by surprise. I read it in less than a 48 hour time period. One part in particular was like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. The author, Bruce Wilkinson, was relating an encounter that took place at a retreat he led. A woman approached him and asked for help. She said her life seemed to be caught in an invisible net and she felt as if she was being held back, kept from progressing to a rewarding life. After ruling out a number of possibilities he asked her if she was harboring any kind of un-forgivingness. When I read those words it was like something popped inside me. I became very aware that I was in that very position. A long planted seed of un-forgivingness had been growing inside me, and if I was going to move on with my life I needed to be able to put that area of my past behind me.

The next step was figuring out how to forgive. I had paid lip service to the notion that I had forgiven them. Yet every time an opportunity arose to point out how what they did affected my life even today, I still rose to the occasion and spewed out the litany of wrongdoings I “suffered” at their hands. If I had truly forgiven them, that wouldn’t be taking place.

So now I had to dig deep. I had to find that place inside me where the un-forgivingness was rooted and I had to pluck it out. I began to pray and meditate on the subject with the new focus. After one such session I wrote in my journal: I need to forgive Mom and Dad. I have said in a theoretical fashion that I have nothing against them any longer. Yet at the drop of a hat I am quick to recall all the opportunities denied me, all the dysfunction of my childhood, still quick to blame issues I deal with as an adult on them. Now here is the rub; how do you forgive someone who doesn’t need forgiving? For in reality they have done nothing to be forgiven for. They were just who they were. The decisions they made on my behalf were not done maliciously, they weren’t made to be mean. They were made simply out of misjudgment, a lack of spiritual rooting and based on how they themselves were brought up. There may have been some selfishness involved but no more than would be induced by a sense of a need for self-protection. And haven’t I made bad judgments for all of those reasons? So how do I perform an act of forgiveness? Would I not be forgiving them for being themselves? No one should have to be forgiven that.

I determined I would write a letter. The letter wouldn’t be to tell them they are forgiven because as I had realized forgiving someone who doesn’t need forgiving is pointless. The letter would simply be to tell them how much I loved them and appreciated them. I chose writing a letter instead of calling or visiting for a couple of reasons. They are both in a nursing home in Sarasota, Florida. Making the trip to Florida at this time wouldn’t be feasible. Also, my father has Alzheimer’s Disease and he forgot who I am many years ago. Sitting in front of him or talking to him on the phone I fear would cause him undue confusion. My prayer is that if a letter is slowly read to him the Holy Spirit will take care of whatever understanding needs to take place. As for my Mom, I could call her and tell her what I wanted to say, that I love her and Dad, and appreciate what they did for me as a child, but I felt a letter could be more easily shared with Dad and, despite his condition, that seemed to be very important.

I began to write the letter and I discovered the other reason why I had to put it in writing. My passion is writing. As with the journal entry above, things occur to me as I write. Veils are pulled back as I construct with words. As I wrote the letter I found myself writing words I never intended, but which I knew, once I saw them, to be absolutely essential: For most of my adult years I have been rather self-centered. I have always looked at the past in terms of how it affected me, what was done to me, and what was denied me. It was always all about me. I have spent many years blaming you both for opportunities missed and for not bringing me up in the manner that I felt I should have been brought up in, for not teaching me how to be the person I deserved to be. When anything went wrong in my life as an adult, or whenever I was not happy with who I was, I was quick to blame my upbringing. I went through a period in my twenties and thirties when I swore I would never forgive you. Then I went through a period of thinking I must forgive you but not knowing how. Now, just a few years shy of fifty years old, wisdom has finally knocked through the walls I put up and made me realize that there is nothing for me to forgive, but rather, it is I who need to ask forgiveness of you.

God has very unique ways of bringing us to where we need to be. Had God simply impressed upon me that I needed to ask forgiveness I would have laughed and passed it off as the wanderings of a neurotic mind. Instead, He led me along on a search that would bring me to a path that could only lead to a self-realization.

For many years I have reviled my parents for not being the people I felt they should have been, instead of loving them for the people they were. Throughout that time I haughtily held forgiveness in my grip as something to be doled out when and how I chose to do so. God had loved me and has forgiven me for more than I ever imagined my parents guilty of. And yet I withheld my love from them on a pretense, a pretense based in self-centeredness, until they are both at the end of their years.

My father is now at a place where any attempt to connect with him would require a miracle (certainly not something I would ever rule out). My mother, on in years as well, is not the woman she once was: her mind wanders, her attention span is short, her memory is less than it used to be. A lot of years were wasted while I wallowed in an unwarranted, self-righteousness pity party.
Though it may sound like it, I am not giving in to a case of “could’ve, should’ve, would’ve,” but I am aware of the error and aware that error was mine. I pray that moving forward in my relationships I am able to apply the lesson and that I am more open to showing love and acceptance in place of showing judgment and scorn.

Copyright 2009 M. Romeo LaFlamme

Image is Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son

The Next Step

The date has been set. March 21 will be my investiture as a novice oblate with the Benedictine Archabbey of St. Meinrad.



I was beginning to wonder if it would happen. I was told by the Oblate Director that I had the choice of traveling to Indiana or having it done locally. At this point in time a trip to Indiana didn’t seem feasible so I opted to have it done at my home parish. I met with the Pastor and he was very encouraging and supportive. However, he felt it would be better to have the Parochial Vicar do the investiture as he was himself associated with the Benedictines and the Archabbey of St. Meinrad.



For two week I attempted to reach the Parochial Vicar. With each failed attempt my frustration grew. Patience has never been my strong suit. At the end of last week, a week that had its share of challenges in addition to this one, I shrugged it off. If it was going to happen then it would happen, if not then it wouldn’t. If it was to happen then either a way would be made for me to go to Indiana or I would find my opportunity to arrange it with the Parochial Vicar. I let it go.

Last night after Jeopardy, the one television program I watch with any consistency, my phone rang. It was the Vicar. He had received the message that I was trying to reach him regarding my investiture as a novice oblate. After comparing schedules we decided on March 21. As it turns out, March 21 is the feast day of Saint Benedict. I love synchronicity and that little added touch was like a confirmation that God is in the details.



It was yet another example of a lesson that God has shown me several times. Each time I learn it anew it is with a touch of wonder. It is simply this: when we eagerly pursue something we want we can by our efforts drive our goal further from away from us. But when we “let go and let God,” when we take our hand off the situation and let God have control the pieces click into place.

Copyright 2009 M. Romeo LaFlamme

Image: Icon of St. Benedict Dormition Abbey, Jerusalem (fragment)

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. In the past I have observed Lent somewhat erratically. As a child I didn’t really understand the point. For forty days, which to a child can seem like an eternity, I had to give up something; chocolate, Coca Cola, Felix the Cat; the choice was always mine and always regretted by the end of the third day. Usually by the end of the second week my mother had fallen off whatever wagon she had climbed upon and was willing to let the kids off as well with the admonition to remember the spirit of the observance.

When I returned to the Catholic Church as an adult I still did not have a proper handle on the meaning of Lent and while I progressed from giving up candy to abstaining from meat I still did so with an eye on Easter and the lamb feast it would bring. I learned some momentary self-discipline but can’t say I got any spiritual mileage out of the practice.

My last active lent before going on my spiritual walkabout came a bit closer to the mark but still fell short. I had heard (or read) that when giving up something for Lent whatever you give up should be replaced by something that brings you closer to God; for example if you fast a meal a day, you should spend the time you would have used for eating in prayer. It made sense to me. That Lenten period I gave up reading fiction and replaced it with reading only Catholic theology. It would probably be accurate to say that at that time I was already getting itchy feet and wondering what spiritual truths lay outside the Catholic doctrine. For that reason much of what I read in that forty day period was interesting but I had not allowed it to be nurturing or life changing.

This year will be my first Lenten observance in quite some time. This year, having returned home to the Catholic Church, I want it to mean something.

On the website Catholic.org. I found the following comment on Lent: “Lent is about conversion, turning our lives more completely over to Christ and his way of life. That always involves giving up sin in some form. The goal is not just to abstain from sin for the duration of Lent but to root sin out of our lives forever. Conversion means leaving behind an old way of living and acting in order to embrace new life in Christ.”

I’m not sure that what I want to root out would be called sin in the sense that most people think of that word, but if you consider a personal fault a sin, then the formula would apply. I know that on the spiritual path prayer is not only important it is essential. It is a habit of mine to fit prayer in and around the mess of my day with the result that prayer is often rushed, or dumped on the end of the day right before bed. Someone said something to the effect that we should make time for prayer and fit everything else around it. I seem to have been doing that backwards.

So for Lent I’m giving up sleep. That‘s not as dire as it sounds. I am giving up an hour on each end. I will be getting up an hour earlier than my normal rising time and when everyone else has gone to bed I will be staying up. For someone whose two favorite hobbies are repeatedly hitting the snooze button on the alarm, and reading himself to sleep this is gong to take some willpower. I am going to use this time to pray the Morning and Evening prayers of The Liturgy of the Hours. It is my hope, or I should say my prayer, that a new discipline will arise out of this Lenten practice; a discipline in which prayer and meditation take on the importance in my life that they should have.

I know the efficacy of prayer. I have seen it do wonders in my life when I have taken the time to do it properly. Those have usually been the times when I was in dire need. But I am a lazy person at heart so once the need has been met I tend to slip back into a complacent attitude. They say it takes three weeks to start a habit. Lent is 40 days.

copyright 2009 M. Romeo LaFlamme

(Image used is Salvador Dali's Christ of St John of the Cross)

Prayer, Thomas Keating, and the 23rd Psalm

One of the things I’ve been asking for in prayer is an understanding of my habit for self-sabotage and why it has persisted so far into my adulthood. While in a used book store I came across a copy of The Human Condition by Thomas Keating (1999, Paulist Press). I bought it, brought it home, and read the small volume in one sitting. That night as I was in prayer I reached a point where I was just quiet and resting and that still small voice reminded of two passages from the book:

All of us have been through the process of being born and entering this world with three essential biological needs: security and survival, power and control, affection and esteem.

All biases and prejudices are the attitudes of a child from ages four to eight. If they are present in us, we are still functioning at the level of a preadolescent.

This was followed by one of those moments of understanding that takes the breath away. I was always aware at some level that most of my personality quirks stemmed from an unstable and dysfunctional upbringing, and over the past dozen years I’ve worked with that knowledge to overcome a lot of false paradigms about myself, the world around me, and life in general, yet I had been aware that there were still some issues that had roots I hadn’t uncovered enough to be able to trace.

As I rested in prayer and allowed the Holy Spirit to peel back another layer I understood that my childhood had two glaring gaps that had been identified for me in Keating’s book: a lack of security, and a lack of esteem. I also realized, thanks to Keating’s insight, that those two deep seated issues had not been properly dealt with. I had dealt with each, security and esteem, at a surface level, treating the symptoms of each as they arose. What I had never done, however, is treat the root cause of the illness; the fact that the childhood lack of security and esteem were fused into one. The lesson that I had unconsciously learned in childhood and subsequently carried into adulthood was that I did not experience security because I was not worthy of having security. Therefore, whenever a situation arose in my life that would lead me into a sense of security, or even if I had momentarily achieved a secure footing, it has often been my habit to kick the foundation out from under myself.

Over the past dozen years I have been able to chip away at the problem. Had I retained control of the process that is probably all I would have continued to do. I had arrived at a point, however, where I had to admit that what I was doing on my own was only a temporary remedy and until I understood the root cause I would never retain the upper hand. I had searched for the root cause and several times thought I had found it but the deepest understanding of the problem continued to elude me. It wasn’t until I admitted defeat and offered it up to God that the answers came. In the Bible it says in James 1:5; But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.

Thomas Keating also says in The Human Condition: Centering Prayer is not an end in itself, but its deep rest loosens up the emotional weeds of a lifetime. When our defenses go down, up comes the dark side of the personality, the dynamics of the unconscious, and the immense emotional investment we have placed in false programs for happiness, along with the realization of how immersed we are in our particular cultural conditioning.

That can sound like a scary concept but most of our problems and issues have deep roots. If we are pursuing those roots on our own they can indeed be intimidating. But if we pursue those roots in prayer, with God, then there is nothing to fear. God covers us on all fronts.

I can also note that several weeks ago in a conversation with my parish priest he suggested that I re-acquaint myself with Psalm 23. I had been reading it and pondering it almost every day since. It appears to have been the first step in the prayer for understanding being answered. Now that I’m out the other side of the tunnel it seems to be the perfect remedy for repairing a sense of security and self-esteem.

Psalm 23
The LORD is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack.
In green pastures you let me graze; to safe waters you lead me;
you restore my strength. You guide me along the right path for the sake of your name. Even when I walk through a dark valley, I fear no harm for you are at my side; your rod and staff give me courage.
You set a table before me as my enemies watch; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Only goodness and love will pursue me all the days of my life; I will dwell in the house of the LORD for years to come.

Copyright 2009 M. Romeo LaFlamme

Changes

So, less than two months into the beginning of this blog I find a change is in order. As I posted the first few articles I was aware of a lack of flow and motivation; as if what I was doing just wasn’t clicking. After much contemplation, and opening myself to the promptings of the Holy Spirit I realized that I am supposed to be doing something different.

For many years I have been drawn to the Catholic Church. I was actually born and raised a Catholic but the teachings of the Church were not upheld or enforced in day to day life so the teaching took a very shallow rooting. In my early adulthood I was without a religion of any sort, and then at the age of 28 I had a “born again” experience in a Pentecostal church. Several years down that path, approximately 12 years ago, I was led to return to my Catholic roots. I spent a half a dozen years there absolutely fine with the Church, it’s teachings, and my faith life. There came a point, however, when I felt the need to delve deeper.

The journey that followed took me on a winding path that led out of the Catholic Church, through varied doctrines and belief systems only to bring me back around to where I started, albeit at different level. It was like I journeyed around the mountain to end up with the same view from a higher elevation. During that time I learned some fascinating things, had some interesting experiences, but was left feeling unsettled and at sea.

Then I came across a piece I had written back during my first return to the Catholic Church, those years when I was content being there. It was a short piece on how I realized the importance and efficacy of praying four simple words; Thy will be done. At the time I had written this piece I had made a habit of praying that phrase and many things in my life began to turn around for the better. In hindsight, I can also see that it was at that time that the nudging toward a life calling began and an unconscious reactionary resistance kicked in.

Back in the Catholic Church, and having rediscovered my previous essay, I began to pray the four words again. At the same time I began to question what was the course and purpose of my life. Things that had gone out of whack in my life during my wandering were beginning to come back into line, and answers began to come. As the answers began, however, I had that same knee-jerk reaction, this time on a more conscious level. The reaction was born of fear and lack of self-confidence. My response was to duck out once again from under the umbrella of the Catholic Church. You see, I found I was being called to be a teacher within the Church and the concept played into every sense of insecurity I possessed.

I immediately began searching for every excuse why it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t be a priest because I was married. For the same reason, I couldn’t become a monk. I conveniently skirted the fact that there are lay teachers within and throughout the Catholic Church. When that bit of information pressed itself through my self-erected barrier I made it my cause to find all the “issues” I had with the Catholic Church. If I had “issues” then how could I teach anything under the church’s auspices. I reasoned myself around to the standing that if I was called to teach and I couldn’t (or shouldn’t) teach within the Catholic Church then obviously I was in the wrong church.

It is no surprise now that as I took my search for purpose back out in search of other arenas my momentum stagnated. I found myself twiddling my thumbs and thinking, What now? As I tried to pursue my passion for writing I found most of what I wrote was flat and lifeless. Finding that my faith and spiritual life were going nowhere I came back home again to Catholicism, though I doubt that in my heart I ever really left.

One evening I was cruising through some old files on my computer’s hard drive looking to see if there was anything I could clean off of it. I came across that same essay on “Thy will be done.” This time there was an addendum to the article that was written several years after the original. I had tacked it on after renewing the habit of praying those words. The addendum chronicled how once again the prayer was having an efficacious effect. But then, hand-in-hand with this had come a reawakening of the call to work within the Church and that was when I had slipped away proclaiming that God had it all wrong.

I’ve started praying the words again; Thy will be done. The same calling is reawakening. This time I understand that I need to accept it.

Throughout this entire journey I have felt there are three very simple things I am supposed to do to get myself rooted and grow in my spiritual life. This small list began right around the time I felt the need to go deeper into my spiritual life, back before that journeying in and out of the Church. Throughout that time I did little to nothing in regards to taking these steps. The three things are to read the great theologians and teachers of the Church, volunteer in some capacity within my local parish, and to align myself with a monastery as an oblate. Of these the only one I had done anything with was the reading, but even that was minimal. I am reading more now. I am actively looking for an opportunity to get involved with my parish, and I have applied to and been accepted as an oblate novice at the Archabbey of St. Meinrad.

I am realizing that most of the trial and misery in our lives are caused by ourselves when we don’t allow ourselves to be open to God’s purpose for our lives. The old adage of “let go and let God” is a mountain of sage advice. Apparently God has been trying to teach me this lesson for quite some time and now, just a few years shy of 50, I can only hope it has seeped in.

So this page will change its face. It will become a journal of my lessons learned and life experienced as a Benedictine oblate, a volunteer within my parish, and a Catholic.