Gabrielle is doing a wonderful job of presenting St. Teresa's "mansions" in overview. If you are interested, visit her blog .
Meanwhile, for contrast, I thought I'd post my first poem about St. Thomas. This one is in the book .
Didymus
vide et crede
I've regretted it ever since.
I asked and received
and Have regretted it ever since.
A hair's breadth from obduracy,
suffering an intellignece that refused to step aside,
demanding evidence.
Within me a heart not yet warmed,
beating only because it is its nature to beat.
A realist, relying on reason,
refusing to believe;
blaming this on their grief,
their fear.
So much tension makes men sna;.
Freely chosen enclosure in which I vaingloried.
He returned to save me.
He called me, struggling to believe,
and gently demanded I prove myself wrong.
"Let me have your finger. See. Believe."
Hand of clay I know so well
reached deeply into glorified flesh.
I was overcome.
And I surrendered.
"My Lord and my God."
But he did not call me blessed.
No.
"Blessed are they who have not seen."
Trusting souls who see with the heart.
Childlike souls
who know truth with no hands.
Blessed are they.
Be careful what you ask for.
I'm not sure I agree with myself now. As time passes, I think I was too hard on Thomas, and I see him differently, as evidenced by the poem I posted yesterday. He DID demand evidence. He DID protest. But I don't think it was vainglory...
Meanwhile, for contrast, I thought I'd post my first poem about St. Thomas. This one is in the book .
Didymus
vide et crede
I've regretted it ever since.
I asked and received
and Have regretted it ever since.
A hair's breadth from obduracy,
suffering an intellignece that refused to step aside,
demanding evidence.
Within me a heart not yet warmed,
beating only because it is its nature to beat.
A realist, relying on reason,
refusing to believe;
blaming this on their grief,
their fear.
So much tension makes men sna;.
Freely chosen enclosure in which I vaingloried.
He returned to save me.
He called me, struggling to believe,
and gently demanded I prove myself wrong.
"Let me have your finger. See. Believe."
Hand of clay I know so well
reached deeply into glorified flesh.
I was overcome.
And I surrendered.
"My Lord and my God."
But he did not call me blessed.
No.
"Blessed are they who have not seen."
Trusting souls who see with the heart.
Childlike souls
who know truth with no hands.
Blessed are they.
Be careful what you ask for.
I'm not sure I agree with myself now. As time passes, I think I was too hard on Thomas, and I see him differently, as evidenced by the poem I posted yesterday. He DID demand evidence. He DID protest. But I don't think it was vainglory...
posted by KathrynTherese at 5:01 PM
10 Comments:
Right -- absolutely not vainglory -- he'd been with the Master for what, years? by then. Sure, it was human weakness, but not the vile kind. Rather, the kind that we all suffer from. Who knows but maybe Thomas had always been nuts about the Lord, but had always deferred to Peter and John after that conversation the Lord had had with the Twins' mother.. maybe the Lord knew how humble Thomas had been, knew how hard it had been, and said, "Here, now.. you come and touch Me, my beloved Thomas -- you doubted, yes -- but your doubt has given Me this opportunity to say to all, "Blessed are those who don't see proof, but believe."
How hard it must've been for any of them to believe in the Resurrection. Even harder than docs believing in a miracle cure, yet being confronted with the living, thinking, laughing proof -- i.e. Mr. Hand's son! -- of the power of God.
Oh -- and -- I know next to nothing about translations of sacred Scripture, but I have read that the word "blessed" such as in the Beatitudes, may well mean "happy" rather than what rushes to mind -- "saintly," perhaps -- when we hear the two syllable "blessed".
But I DO think the Lord wanted to speak to doubters through your book.. even the holy doubters.
He raises up people in every age to speak His love. Boyhowdy, am I thankful for that.
Thank you for the mention again, kathryntherese; I hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew.
Even though your feelings on the subject may have changed over time, this is still a very thought-provoking poem. It never occurred to me that Thomas might have lived with regret; one hopes not.
Regret is the one thing we carry all through Purgatory, I think. Not only for sin which has delayed our union, but regret that we didn't speak to everyone about the depth of God's love, regret that we didn't live it in all those little moments when we say, "Oh God, not now." Regret for all the times we could've suffered in with and through Him, for love, and for whatever reasons, didn't. Regret that we weren't martyred.
Regret is the one thing that others cannot help us with. Peter regretted what led up to his bolting when he himself had least thought he would. Dear God, does that sound familiar or what...
And I think maybe my defense of Thomas actually springs from a friend having called the apostles who scattered like sheep without a shepherd, dufuses. Not dufuses -- they were real men, along with being human, they needed time to think it through. Their Pentecost, unlike ours which has benefitted from 2000 years of bolstering, was still a ways off. And the fact that they were mere men, that God has allowed mere Man to participate in Love.. just boggles the mind. St. Francis sums it up, tho' no one ever really does, "O sublime humility.."
But how true that that's not what Christ wants for us or from us -- regret. He three times exonerated Peter, that Peter might free himself from regret, "Do you love Me?" for each of the denials, "Feed my sheep."
He exonerated Thomas from his doubt, which Thomas would surely have regretted in that moment when his heart began to soar with a joy so incredible, we should weep to think of that moment which he would so gladly share. And I do believe you captured it, Kathryn, that it was in obedience that he did apply his hand. But obedience unto Joy, capital J. And of course came that message, "Don't doubt. I told you many things, and I have proved them all. Now tell the world about Me."
The others, the good holy but scared others probably just looked at Him with a bit of sorrow mixed with incredulity, and maybe He winked at them in the same way that my grandmother rubbed our hand with her thumb, to say, "All is well, beloved." Perhaps as He always had done. Some little signal to say, "It's forgotten, I absolutely love you, but it gets harder from here on out, Fellows."
Honora, you have said it like no one else can, and your words are hanging over me like a truth that is too big to take in... "It's forgotten, I absolutely love you, but it gets harder from here on out, Fellows." Yes. Exactly.
And it gives us so much hope to know that they were so.. so HUMAN. And to know that they could WALK with Him and TALK with Him and TOUCH Him and... still not quite get it.
How often have I felt like Thomas and Phillip, who had Christ standing before them, explaining everything to them with His own mouth, but still could not understand. Still asking, "How can we know the way?" and "Show us the Father." And Christ never called them dufuses (though I sometimes imagine Him shaking His head in amusement at them). Instead, He promised them the Holy Spirit. As you pointed out, honora, their Pentecost was coming.
Regret is absolutely the gnawing of those who have not found Him. Because when we find Him, He frees us of all that was and all that might have been and teaches us to be what we are right now and to be it with a joy and gratitude that can only seem like fiction to those who do not know Him.
He freed Mary Magdalen. He freed Peter. He freed Phillip. He freed Paul. And He frees each of us.
How many times in the book do I refer to "freedom" and "wholeness"? I don't know, but these are the joy of those who surrender.
"Freedom" "Wholeness" "Joy" -- amen. You mentioned them many times indeed, as well as that word I just talked all around but didn't say, lol: Surrender. I hope those three words are on a Bishop's seal somewhere. The 4th one is always implied. :-)
Poor Jesus, what frustration indeed. He knew His hour was coming, yet His apostles stillll didn't understand well enough.. Surely in His humanity, He wanted to talk of the things of God with men, yet only His mother understood well enough --but He was not with her, now. One can almost sense His deep poverty of loneliness in this, because it would've given Him comfort.. But He, so solitary by virtue of Who He is, could only long for the final fulfilling Passover meal He would share before He suffered, which He has extended..
But what sweet times Jesus and the Apostles must've also had out under the stars in the dark, talking of the things of God. Can we even imagine? Imagine being with anyone who speaks of God, Who loves with God's love, for a year or two or three straight? How did they not die with joy.. their hearts had to have been on fire! And what sweet times out in the crowds, tho' exhausting. Especially when humble moms (and dads!) brought their children to Him. Years ago my favorite priest and I stood shoulder to shoulder (safe priest/safe parishioner stance, lol) when he nudged me to look at who had just entered the parish hall. A tiny little girl and little boy dressed to the 9's came skipping in holding hands, and wherever they went, they did not let go of each other's hand. The priest just groaned with delight, as did I. How easily I imagine Jesus also doing so.. It wasn't always Teacher and students..He called them friends.
Gabrielle, judging by the comments over at Contemplative Haven
http://contemplativehaven.
blogspot.com/
you surely are producing fruit.
Lead on, ladies. And thank you.
A confession: I've worried that I am much too fanciful when it comes to Christ and Christ's; to tell you the truth, I am afraid of leading someone astray, so I try to keep it close to the vest except with contemplative folks who are less likely to throw manacles on my spiritual wrists and lead me off to a bare room. But the more I catch on to how IMMENSE, how bottomless / ceilingless is His mercy and humility and generosity -- the more that His love breaks into my dullness of mind and clouds of sin, and animates this dust with joyful hope -- the more I think this very coffee cup will shout Hosanna! if I don't. Theologically, however, I am pretty much a blond coconut, so I ask you to please be on guard against anything I say that veers from or stretches dogma. Delete it first, and then mention it.
I am exhaling that I may sing, but I know I can't hit the high notes, and depend upon you angels more than you'd guess.
Mine? Never -- and let us pray that evangelization never comes down to God having to love through blond coconuts!
But for others, it may be so.. without a doubt, He works in mysterious ways; if we but cooperate with Him, ah, then our Christ sees the fruit of His words, lush and growing upon this land of men's hearts that Satan thinks he himself has stolen.
ROFL! Well, He has certainly put some wonderful people in the path of this coconut. That's the most amazing thing about Him; He trusts us to love.
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