Aside from taking bits and pieces of Fray Justo, OP's Rule for Hermits as part of my own personal rule, I have the following:
"YOU are the hermit, not the family.
Don't want complaints from the family that this way of life ruined theirs. If they remember you for anything, it should be for being the best spouse and parent ever. Ideally, they would see only that, and only family-friendly devotions.
As Fray Justo advises, do not be opposed to spontaneity.
When caring for the family, offer it in reparation for those who don't.
Vigils will be when family illness awakens you. Offer it in reparation for those caretakers whose mouths are on auto-complain or for those who are in ignore mode (speaking of family caring for sick family).
Pray the office when able. Join sufferings to Jesus Crucified.
Take care of your health, that it may serve you to serve God (St. Francis de Sales). Try to work out thrice weekly, more if possible.
If obligations keep you from Daily Mass, pray to be able to attend at least on Thursday, when your emerging charism is making reparation for sins against the Blessed Sacrament.
Being there for God is also being there for the family. As St. Vincent de Paul says, "You're leaving God for God."
Blessings,
Gemma
Monday, December 1, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
"Dedicate Yourselves to Thanksgiving"
A short thought about the Pauline year, and his admonishment to "dedicate yourselves to Thanksgiving."
Perhaps we can learn from not only the ancient Hebrews, but the Native Americans as well. The Hebrews had their own Thanksgiving festival. The Native Americans had such a feast after each harvest, which meant they certainly had more than one celebration.
Of all the religious orders in our church, only one is actually dedicated from its foundation to the practice of Thanksgiving. They are the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration, who have been made famous by Mother Angelica, the TV nun.
We are such children when it comes to receiving gifts--and being thankful for them. We should take more responsibility for offering thanks, and make it a daily practice, particularly when blessing our meals.
Our loving God is a generous God. We are the ones who fall on our faces when dealing with our gifts. We should not only offer more Thanksgiving, but also ask for the graces of better stewardship of such gifts. And I'm especially praying for that gift for the Obama administration.
Blessings,
Gemma
Perhaps we can learn from not only the ancient Hebrews, but the Native Americans as well. The Hebrews had their own Thanksgiving festival. The Native Americans had such a feast after each harvest, which meant they certainly had more than one celebration.
Of all the religious orders in our church, only one is actually dedicated from its foundation to the practice of Thanksgiving. They are the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration, who have been made famous by Mother Angelica, the TV nun.
We are such children when it comes to receiving gifts--and being thankful for them. We should take more responsibility for offering thanks, and make it a daily practice, particularly when blessing our meals.
Our loving God is a generous God. We are the ones who fall on our faces when dealing with our gifts. We should not only offer more Thanksgiving, but also ask for the graces of better stewardship of such gifts. And I'm especially praying for that gift for the Obama administration.
Blessings,
Gemma
Monday, November 17, 2008
'Steal Away' to Jesus
I grew up Baptist, and after the aforementioned eremitical experience, I wanted solitude.
Our church was a rather large structure, built of native limestone in the 1800s, with a square sanctuary, and extensive education building. Some of my more spiritual moments in the tween years came when I found the church unlocked and totally vacant.
Dangerous, I know, but this was back in "Mayberry days." (They really haven't left, we just have to resurrect them, but that's for another time/post).
The way the education building was built made it like a tower--albeit two-storey. When all of the doors were open in the Sunday School classrooms, one could just about see 180 degrees around them.
Perhaps I should make a note about Protestant Sunday Schools. In this case, there were three or four different age groups to two large rooms, with smaller rooms for the age groups off the side. When all of these rooms' doors were open, one almost had a panoramic view.
Once I came of age, I started attending the 8:30am service, which had the youth choir (yes, I was in it). I would oftentimes get there early, just after the custodian had opened the building for services. This helped me get centered on the task at hand--the worship of the Almighty.
It also gave me a fighting chance of getting a choir robe that fit. Petite robes were the exception and not the rule. Our youth choir robes were almost metalflake blue with pointed gold collars. The adult choirs' robes, OTOH, were gold with pointed burgundy collars. My dad was in the adult choir.
What's the point of this post? Actually an exercise in retrospect--making note of the times God called me to the desert and I did respond. In future posts, I will reflect more.
Blessings,
Gemma
Our church was a rather large structure, built of native limestone in the 1800s, with a square sanctuary, and extensive education building. Some of my more spiritual moments in the tween years came when I found the church unlocked and totally vacant.
Dangerous, I know, but this was back in "Mayberry days." (They really haven't left, we just have to resurrect them, but that's for another time/post).
The way the education building was built made it like a tower--albeit two-storey. When all of the doors were open in the Sunday School classrooms, one could just about see 180 degrees around them.
Perhaps I should make a note about Protestant Sunday Schools. In this case, there were three or four different age groups to two large rooms, with smaller rooms for the age groups off the side. When all of these rooms' doors were open, one almost had a panoramic view.
Once I came of age, I started attending the 8:30am service, which had the youth choir (yes, I was in it). I would oftentimes get there early, just after the custodian had opened the building for services. This helped me get centered on the task at hand--the worship of the Almighty.
It also gave me a fighting chance of getting a choir robe that fit. Petite robes were the exception and not the rule. Our youth choir robes were almost metalflake blue with pointed gold collars. The adult choirs' robes, OTOH, were gold with pointed burgundy collars. My dad was in the adult choir.
What's the point of this post? Actually an exercise in retrospect--making note of the times God called me to the desert and I did respond. In future posts, I will reflect more.
Blessings,
Gemma
Saturday, October 18, 2008
New Blog
The Holy Ghost works on attraction, and I discerned the pull to blogspot.
So, what's a married woman with two teen boys doing with a blog with "hermitage" in it? Particularly, why such a peculiar name for the hermitage?
I will answer that, but please keep in mind that I was 16 when I entered the Roman Catholic Church. This is important.
When I was about 12 (and a Baptist), my sister and brother-in-law, and some of their friends, took me to an art show on the grounds of historic Spalding Hall in my hometown of Bardstown, KY. After touring the tents out in the front yard, we went indoors, looking for more displays. We found them in the chapel of the former boarding school.
All I can say is that I was "touched by grace" there, and when I returned home, I wanted to be a monk in my own home. I didn't want to wear what the nuns wore, I wanted what the monks wore. There was just something about that hood.
Fastforward thirty-something years, and here I am in the process of founding an eremitic religious organization (known in lay terms as "an order"). During this process, I was to live as eremitic a life as possible within my primary vocation of wife and mother so that I could discern the future hermits' plan of life. And it was during this process that I remembered my life-changing incident at Spalding Hall.
I'm already a Lay Passionist, and since I no longer homeschool, everybody is out of the house until around mid-afternoon. From 7am on, there is plenty of time for prayer, etc.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that there are indeed faithful who are called to live an eremitical life, and many of these may or may not feel led to seek out official recognition from the Church. In that light, I can say that in the course of my discernment of the hermits' rule, I have also deepened my own Passionist spirituality, and am tapping into spiritual resources I never knew existed.
Why "JIVi," though?
That's the anacronym for the patrons of the Spalding Hall chapel--Sts. Joseph; Ignatius; and Vincent de Paul. My "second mom" used to be a curator at Spalding Hall's two museums, and despite the volumes of information on the building, nobody had made note of the chapel's patrons. That is, until I came on the scene, insisting on knowing whose patronage it had enjoyed. I only felt it right to name my hermitage for them, since that's where I'd felt the call.
So, now you know.
And what about the Cloisterite Hermits?
We're on foundational hiatus until I can retain a spiritual director. I'm getting close, but it's not the easiest process in the world. Please pray for this. I hope to have everything running again by the date of the Pro Orantibus--"For those who pray." It's the international day of praying for cloisters and their vocations. It's also a fundraiser. And it's also the day before my birthday.
If you've never heard of the Pro Orantibus, google it. Some dioceses create lists of nuns and monks within their boundaries. In the course of learning about the Pro Orantibus, I learned that Spain walks off with the distinction of having the largest number of monasteries in the world--911.
Italy is not too far behind--they have 700+.
I'll leave you with those mind-boggling statistics. And don't forget to pray!
Blessings,
Gemma
So, what's a married woman with two teen boys doing with a blog with "hermitage" in it? Particularly, why such a peculiar name for the hermitage?
I will answer that, but please keep in mind that I was 16 when I entered the Roman Catholic Church. This is important.
When I was about 12 (and a Baptist), my sister and brother-in-law, and some of their friends, took me to an art show on the grounds of historic Spalding Hall in my hometown of Bardstown, KY. After touring the tents out in the front yard, we went indoors, looking for more displays. We found them in the chapel of the former boarding school.
All I can say is that I was "touched by grace" there, and when I returned home, I wanted to be a monk in my own home. I didn't want to wear what the nuns wore, I wanted what the monks wore. There was just something about that hood.
Fastforward thirty-something years, and here I am in the process of founding an eremitic religious organization (known in lay terms as "an order"). During this process, I was to live as eremitic a life as possible within my primary vocation of wife and mother so that I could discern the future hermits' plan of life. And it was during this process that I remembered my life-changing incident at Spalding Hall.
I'm already a Lay Passionist, and since I no longer homeschool, everybody is out of the house until around mid-afternoon. From 7am on, there is plenty of time for prayer, etc.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that there are indeed faithful who are called to live an eremitical life, and many of these may or may not feel led to seek out official recognition from the Church. In that light, I can say that in the course of my discernment of the hermits' rule, I have also deepened my own Passionist spirituality, and am tapping into spiritual resources I never knew existed.
Why "JIVi," though?
That's the anacronym for the patrons of the Spalding Hall chapel--Sts. Joseph; Ignatius; and Vincent de Paul. My "second mom" used to be a curator at Spalding Hall's two museums, and despite the volumes of information on the building, nobody had made note of the chapel's patrons. That is, until I came on the scene, insisting on knowing whose patronage it had enjoyed. I only felt it right to name my hermitage for them, since that's where I'd felt the call.
So, now you know.
And what about the Cloisterite Hermits?
We're on foundational hiatus until I can retain a spiritual director. I'm getting close, but it's not the easiest process in the world. Please pray for this. I hope to have everything running again by the date of the Pro Orantibus--"For those who pray." It's the international day of praying for cloisters and their vocations. It's also a fundraiser. And it's also the day before my birthday.
If you've never heard of the Pro Orantibus, google it. Some dioceses create lists of nuns and monks within their boundaries. In the course of learning about the Pro Orantibus, I learned that Spain walks off with the distinction of having the largest number of monasteries in the world--911.
Italy is not too far behind--they have 700+.
I'll leave you with those mind-boggling statistics. And don't forget to pray!
Blessings,
Gemma
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