I Have Called You By Name: You Are (Still) Mine

Aug 28, 2014 | 5 comments

By Cora Cantata.

If you have, in any way, ever felt rejected, dumped or abandoned by Christ, especially by being asked to walk away from religious life, either by your Superior or by God in your personal discernment, I am writing this blog for you.

He was the One whom you trusted to love you unconditionally, with whom you could be completely vulnerable without ever being told that you are not good enough, was He not? And yet, here you are, confused, alone and broken. I too, have encountered and wrestled with this emotion and brokenness since I left the convent over two years ago. However, after I humbly offered up my woundedness many times, confessing that I felt rejected and even accusing the Lord of abandoning me, He finally got through to me. As I listened, He spoke clearly to my heart a message that has given me great peace and consolation. I now feel convicted to console you and tell you that I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus (Phil 1:6).

I have always felt that my experience of living and leaving religious life was much like Peter experiencing the Transfiguration and saying to Jesus, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents.” I will stay here, make this my home and my life, here where the presence of your Divinity is so evident and intimate. Likewise the Father responded, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” But Jesus came and touched (me), saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid,” (Matt. 17). Then I was lead down from the mountain and back into the world filled with people who have never experienced this Epiphany, and can not understand the ache of losing that vision, that glimpse into the Divine. However, Christ’s mission could not have finished had they had not left. Furthermore, Jesus did not stay on the mountain while banishing Peter, James and John, but went into the world with them to complete the good work that He began.

As it turned out the Bible verses that spoke to my heart and convicted me to enter religious life had a tendency to add insult to injury after I had left. I feel that it is easy to fall into the temptation of believing that we no longer have a calling. If God really called me to enter the convent, He has since un-called me, changed His mind and “hung up,” so to speak. There is no longer a plan for me. My plot in life is now to float out here in this abyss of unconsecrated singleness. But wait, God says, “For I, the LORD, do not change, and you, sons of Jacob, do not cease to be” (Mal 3:6); “But the plan of the LORD stands forever, the designs of his heart through all generations” (Ps 33:11). This must mean that God never changed His mind or His plan. From all eternity He knew every step we would take. Everything is Divine Providence and we have to trust that it is for our greater good because God is all Good and Holy.

Sometimes He just waits until we settle and believe that we’ve found our place and purpose to take us by the hand and say, “Talitha koum; Little girl, I say to you, arise!” (Mark 5:41). I will allure (you) now; I will lead (you) into the wilderness (Hosea 2:16). Where is the wilderness more wild, more lonely, more bare than in the world where Christ and his followers often go either unnoticed or hated and rejected? However, Jesus encourages us, saying, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you; plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope. When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you.When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart I will let you find me (Jer 29). Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine, because you are precious in my eyes and honored, and I love you. Fear not, for I am with you. All who are called by my name I created for my glory; I formed them, made them: You are my servant whom I have chosen to know and believe in me and understand that I am he. See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Is 43).

See, I am doing something new! He is not un-calling us but calling us to something new, something greater. Religious life may be a higher calling but it is a calling that we cannot call ourselves to. We will only be fulfilled when we submit to our calling. What does it matter if your soul is like a thimble or a cup, so long as it is full? No matter what state in life, career, suffering or joy you are experiencing trust that His love, will, and heart remain the same. Every single day He is present and waiting in the Eucharist, calling, “Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come.How beautiful is your love. For you have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; you have ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes and I thirst, for you,” (ref. Songs &. John 19:28). My sisters, we experienced the Epiphany for a reason and it was meant to transfigure us. We are called to go into the world and reflect the radiance, the joy and the light of a God who’s love is Divine, unconditional and never changing.

When I left the Seminary, My Soul was Saved by Art!

Jun 15, 2014 | 3 comments

Well, in a manner of speaking. God alone saves, but in my case, He decided to use art for that purpose. Leaving that community of prayer and mutual spiritual support left my soul feeling lost and starved, my heart with feelings of bitterness and despair. I did not immediately realize after I left that I needed to have a healthy outlet for these feelings or they would destroy me. And for several months they did indeed tear me down.

I’d always been a bit of an art nerd. I took lots of art history classes in college, without much idea of how to use them other than to soak up my elective credits, despite the continued objections of my academic advisor who thought I was crazy and needed something more practical. I took all my class notes as a series of random doodles, partly from love of doodling, and partly because I have ADD so bad I couldn’t actually take proper notes. The pictures formed for me a kind of pictorial mnemonic device for remembering what I’d learned that particular day.

By the end of my 4 years in college there were guys who would come to me at the end of the semester just to see my notebooks. I really didn’t understand why they were fascinated. The staff there thought it was inexcusable, that I was treating my academics like a joke by spending all my time doodling, so naturally I felt that way too. For me, those scratches represented what I perceived as my own personal weakness and laziness, my inability to be a “good seminarian.”

I eventually would go on to show those scribbles to family and friends outside of seminary, and almost overwhelmingly I would be asked, “Is there any more? Will you please make more?” I had no inkling that this art thing was anything important, but my spiritual director had just reminded me that when you have a gift from God, the Holy Spirit will draw people to it, and they will come to you and ask for it. So I went back to drawing.

I didn’t think I was very good. Actually, I was objectively bad! But I drew because I needed it, as a way to heal. And because other people needed it, and I needed to feel that people needed me, too. In prayer, God made it clear that I needed to do this for Him, because He had people who needed what I could make.

So I learned how to draw in new ways, using new tools. I learned how to use paint. I learned how to engrave. Some people meditate over Scripture by reading it over and over again, but I would imagine it over and over again, and then draw it. Other times, when my imagination would run wild in the Adoration chapel and I couldn’t get an image out of my head, I’d draw it, and then listen to see what He thought.

There were also times that I would draw with the intention of making something for selling, without listening to God or presenting my work to Him – worshiping mammon with the work of my hands, as it were. In these cases I almost always failed. It was humbling to see how my work is empowered by Him, how even when I will not obey His commands, the work of my hands is still the work of His hands.

Through all of this, I was constantly reminded that drawing was something that was for my healing. Not because it stroked my ego (though it sometimes did) but because God made my hands and I was using them to do something for Him, even though I didn’t understand exactly how. I don’t always pray before I pick up my pencil or brush, but in those early days I learned a sense of working with God on this hobby of mine. Or more precisely, this hobby of ours.

I discovered that I didn’t have to change the whole world to be holy or happy outside of a religious community. My vocation to personal holiness and communion with God can sometimes just be about making scribbles and giving them to Him.

 

By Anthony
Anthony is a thoroughly lovable former seminarian, artist, and Catholic blogger. He is not only the author of this week’s post, but also the creator of its featured image. If you’ve never seen his artwork, check out his blog at http://weaselsgonarf.blogspot.com/.

And please PRAY FOR ANTHONY, because he’ll be marrying the lovely Katie on the Solemnity of the Assumption (this coming August 15th)!

 

Leonie’s Ladies: What have you found works as an “outlet” for you since returning to the world? Has something in particular helped you to heal, to process feelings, to readjust? Please share in the commboxes below so others can get ideas that may help them!