Contemplative Haven

Autumn Closing (Bliss Carman)

The show is over, and the leafy tent
All gold and crimson where the sunlight lingered
Through the slow afternoon, is coming down.
The bittersweet is scarlet on the bough
Reluctant to be gone, though frosts have strewn
Patins of glory on the forest trails,
While tatters of torn splendour go to feed
The smoky bonfires in the village street.
What singer pipes the closing autumn hush
With surest note of cheer in all the wild?
A dauntless minstrel of the changing year,
Chickadee of the wilderness! He knows
What sweetness gathers in the winter’s heart,
What saving oracles the North Wind sings.

Struggle ensues from this union of his love with us. For him alone, without us, there would be no struggle, for he loves the Father and human beings; he is Love. We, however, are not-love, with which his love burdens itself in order to overcome it. This overcoming does not take place in eternity; the battle is fought on earth, unto the death on the Cross, within the measurable time of the Son’s life that is depicted for us in Scripture, that we see as a limited period within our time, but that belongs so much to eternity that his years on earth cannot be subtracted from the eternity of the Son. Suffering in our time unto death, the Son makes known to us that the time of suffering is transitory, that his triumph in the Resurrection is a victory of heaven over earth, a proof of the Father’s power in the Son of Man, and that we share in this victory and our present time will be conquered by imperishable time.

[The Gates of Eternal Life, Adrienne von Speyr, pgs. 24-25]

As I look around the blogosphere lately, I find infrequent postings and dwindling comments.  This is perfectly understandable, since many of us are enjoying summer after a long, hard winter, and entertaining visitors from afar.  For those whose winter has arrived, perhaps they are cozying up more frequently near the fireplace, sipping hot drinks and getting to bed earlier every night.
 
I think this is a good thing.  Apart from considerations of our natural seasons, I hope it is a reflection of the fact that we are in the liturgical season of Ordinary Time.  Liturgically, Ordinary Time means ordered or numbered time, a period when priests predominantly wear green vestments signifying hope and growth.

Ordinary Time is the season for steady and unhurried nourishment of body and soul, a time when the anticipation of major feasts such as Christmas and Easter are not the focal point of our attention, with their attendant periods of Advent and Lent for which so many of us make specific plans.

As this entry at Catholic Culture tells us, Ordinary Time is a time to “pasture” in “vast verdant meadows”.  So let us take this time to enter into Christ’s mystery through the people and the creation around us.  From my point of view, since it is summer here and the house is buzzing off and on with visiting family and friends, I just want to relax into and sanctify the changing of bed linens, the table-setting, the floor-sweeping, the lawn-mowing, the hedge-clipping and the flower-watering, all the while absorbing the chirping of sparrows and the scurrying of baby chipmunks.

I want to nourish my body with fresh fruits and vegetables – local blueberries and farmers’-market corn. I want to feed my soul daily with contemplative prayer, all else such as Lectio Divina, spiritual audio or video resources and blog-reading being added at my own pace, stopping whenever my spirit draws me to simply sit and gaze at tree limbs, cone flowers or cardinals, allowing the Holy Spirit to enlighten my heart and my mind as He pleases.

Yes, it’s Ordinary Time, and I am tired and hungry.

Just one more reason why everyone should read the lives of the saints. 

From the Arthur Young Series:

[Excerpt from "Heart of the World", by Hans Urs von Balthasar]

Or I can postpone guilt until tomorrow.  The eye that looks at me fixedly always says “today.”  “It is now that I want to be loved.”  But I lower my eyes and say:  “I will love you tomorrow.  Tomorrow you’ll see what I’m capable of doing for you.  You’ll see the sacrifices I’ll bring to you.  Tomorrow I’ll pay you twice over if you’ll only grant me this one hour today.  I must yet pluck the rose before it fades away, but the rosehips I’ll bring you for sure.  Give me the spring and I’ll let you have the autumn, maybe even late summer.  Just for today turn away your gaze, and starting tomorrow you’ll be able to look at me all you like.”  “I’m coming now, I’m coming right away!” the child cries up to his mother when she calls him in, and he finishes playing his game, thinking that surely obedience includes a certain period of grace – a human margin.  Who could all at once make a clean break with his life?  Why, God, do you want to jump steps in my case?  You want the whole thing all at once:  one’s whole heart, whole soul, whole mind – all my strength…