Is it real (monasticism), or is it Memorex?

The Priestly Pugilist ^ | 2/15/2006 | Priestly Pugilist

[Balt]

My parishioners know -- because I've mentioned it in homilies too many times -- that my initial inclination as a young man was toward the monastic life; and have some significant experience in that area. The importance of the monastic contemplative life in the Church (both East and West) is still a point of importance for me. That being said, would this add induce you to investigate the possibility of a monastic vocation?

You can click on it if your so inclined. I'm not. The basic punch line is this:

Our urban monastery, celebrating seventeen years, belongs to the worldwide Order of the Visitation of Holy Mary. If you are seeking a way to live in a deep relationship with God with other women of faith, then read on. We may be the community for you if you feel called to live a contemplative life-style that welcomes neighbors as Jesus among us, we invite you to experience our Community of Prayer and presence.

Call me old fashioned, but there's something disconcerting about marketing a vocation to the consecrated life with cheep slogans (check some of last year's posts about marketing vs. holiness in the sloganeering of the USCCB); but, in this case, the slogans aren't just distasteful: they're downright contradictory. The whole point of the contemplative life is removing oneself from the world in order to more perfectly seek mystical union with Christ, which is why it's not a vocation for the majority. A "contemplative life-style that welcomes neighbors" is an oxymoron.

But let's go even more basic, shall we? While there is nothing per se wrong with a monastic community in an urban area, by definition the whole point of contemplative monasticism is separation from the world and it's distractions; not in rejection of Our Lord's mission to "seek and save what is lost," but precisely because those of us who are "out here" seeking and saving the lost need the spiritual support of others who are not out here, mortifying themselves and offering up sacrifices in union with Christ on our behalf.

So, what's wrong with religious being "out here" among us helping all kinds of people? Nothing at all; and there are many religious communities -- of both men and women -- who do this: old ones like the Franciscans and Dominicans; new ones like the Capuchin Franciscans of the Renewal and Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity. But they're not monastics, they don't claim to be monastics, they don't advertise themselves as contemplative communities, and would probably be the first to reaffirm the necessity of contemplative monasticism in the Church (which they would point out they are not).

If you haven't eaten recently, click on the ad above and take a stroll through this spiritual wasteland, and you'll figure it out. The Visitation Sisters, founded by St. Jane Frances de Chantel, is a genuine monastic community (my native parish in Maryland is named after her because they had given permission for the first parishioners to worship in the public area of their chapel before the church was built in 1958). What we have here are four nuns of this ancient community who, I guess, decided they were tired of it, and misinterpreted the loss of their vocation as some kind of message from God. Supposedly with the permission of their superiors (not a good sign), they left the cloister and started this urban experiment.

In 1989 four Sisters were missioned by our Federation of Visitation Sisters in the U.S. to express our contemplative way of life by living , praying, and ministering to those who are often disregarded in our world today. We came to North Minneapolis to discover, through a relationship with the people of our "hood", the Christ active in our city. The main characteristics of the Visitation way of life, community, prayer and presence, would be our port of entry.

Now, don't misunderstand me. There's nothing wrong with someone rethinking their specific vocation in the Church. Mother Teresa did it: she was a member of a teaching order when she traveled through Calcutta and was moved by what she saw. But she didn't ask her order for teaching sisters to be sent to her to care for the dying while still claiming they were teaching sisters; she had the integrity to leave her community and start a new one with a different apostolate. It begs the question: If these four urban apostles felt God was calling them away from monasticism into a more active religious life among the poor of Minneapolis, why didn't they ask to leave their community and start a new one dedicated to that purpose? And why is it necessary for them to still claim to be monastics when they are clearly not?

The answer to that last question actually has a lot to do with a basic denial of St. Paul's ecclesiology which is seminal to understanding religious liberalism in general. The Body of Christ is made up of different people with different gifts, and we're not all supposed to be doing the same thing; but religious liberalism -- like all liberalism -- equates equality with sameness in a twisted bow to a secular notion of justice; thus "liberating" these women from a life the rigors of which they can't hack anymore, allowing them to pursue a new vocation among the poor (which is not necessarily a bad thing), without the stigma of admitting that they're making a change. An unfair characterization, you say? Not when you check out the "Meet the Sisters" section of their web site. Here's a typical example lifted from one bio at random:

My “first love” is the beautiful game of soccer, which I played for as many years as I can remember. ( . . . ) I also enjoy swimming, cycling, walking, almost anything that involves physical activity. I relax by cooking and reading and visiting places of interest.

Is this a web site of a religious community, or is she looking for love on e-Harmony.com? Naturally, it comes with a picture. All that's missing is whether she's a smoker, likes pets and wants children.

When I came to the realization that I was called to an active priesthood in the world and not to monastic life, I set aside the one and took up the other. Anything else would have been dishonest. It's the reason Beethoven was a great composer and Philip Glass isn't: anyone can be novel by inventing a new form; it's takes real talent to be revolutionary within the established structures of the time.

[sockmonkey]

Good Read. My daughter is a cloistered nun, and sometimes it’s hard for me to understand her contemplative life.
It’s difficult not having access to her, but I am grateful that her order isn’t like the one in the article.

[Dajjal]

bumpus ad summum