Works, Prayer, Fellowship

Readers, my latest article for Catholic Stand is up now, called “How the Legion of Mary Taught me to be Catholic.”

I joined the Legion as a new Catholic in 2014 and have spent time both as an active member (even as President!) and an auxiliary, which is as a praying member, who does not participate in the weekly meeting or works. Both are fruitful, both are worthwhile, both are necessary.

What I realized are the enduring spiritual and life lessons I learned from being a part of this group, and having the privilege to witness the wonderful hope and tenacity of my fellow members, serving the body of Christ in Mary’s spirit. The way the Legion works is how the Catholic life, holistically, should work: in fellowship with others, serving God through works of mercy, sustained by prayer. Further, one of the fundamental beliefs of Legion of Mary founder Frank Duff is that we are called to be saints. The Legion is an ordinary thing, with ordinary members. It is a sign of how the ordinary life is itself a path to holiness, and how we are all called there.

So, I hope you will read.

One other thing, though. There is another lesson that I did not write about, but which in this I reflect, nonetheless. And that is that no one is called to be a martyr (not in the emotional sense). Legion of Mary work exposes you to a lot of people in need - people whose entire bodies are paralyzed, existing day by day in a nursing home; men and women in prison, trapped in unbelievable grief at the consequences of their actions; and so on. One may feel a tendency to want to solve all these problems - to minister to everybody, to bring every person encountered back to church, to feel that these people’s fates rely on your own ability to pray. Of course, that is not the case, and to believe so - to serve because of this temptation - is not healthy. There is need all over the world, as there always will be. And it is okay - it is imperative - to place hope in God that He will take care of His children, and to to be mindful of the pride that might say, “This is my result! How needed I am.” The greater thing would be to give freely of one’s time and gifts, and not because one feels obligated. It’s a very Ignatian thing to arrive at. [One might say: an act of self-awareness!]

For now, I am an auxiliary member - praying the catena every day, and being filled with love for the Legion and its members. It has been life-giving, and will continue to be. I am grateful for the grounding this active work has given me in a life lived with the aim of always seeking God.

Why self-awareness?

With my workshop on self-awareness approaching, a friend asked me, why self-awareness, and what have you done to learn about this?

I think that self-knowledge is at the last frontier. On this planet, anyway. Well, and not including the bottom of the ocean. But you know what I mean.

We often are quite happy living alongside our own lives. I also think we are often quite happy concerning ourselves with other peoples’ lives, because it gives us an excuse not to have to look too deeply into our own.

The three tools I am teaching in this workshop - journaling, living one’s values, and prayer - are things I have spent years with.

I remember my first journal. I was in fifth grade, it was not much bigger than my hands, and had a lock I simultaneously loved and feared because I was pretty sure I would lose the key, and therefore access to the record of my inmost thoughts. I suspect I wrote a lot about my family and my pet gerbils.

Now, many years later, I have stacks of worn-out journals, and I know the distinct craving of needing to open my journal to work through something on my mind. Or, to return to something to understand where I was then. I have a lot of empathy for all the stages of my life.

As for values, several years ago a very wise person made me list those out and even put them in order of importance. And now I know when I am straying from them and acting out of accord with the person I am, and who I want to be.

As for prayer, that changed for me when I learned about Ignatian contemplative prayer. The act of self-questioning, of identifying my own attachments, and desiring to be rid of them to be closer to God, has reset the way I think. Thankfully, it has also shown me how close God is, at all times.

When we’re self aware, we are more likely to act in a way that is true. I could make a decision at work because I want to humiliate the competition, or because I want to act in the interest of my client (clearly, there is a right answer as to how to act there). But if I am not aware of my own motivations, I will act immaturely. You could think of one million examples of this.

So that is a snapshot. Be self-aware, and therefore be transparent. Not see-through, but real. Sweep away the cobwebs of self-disillusion. That is why I think it is important.

That workshop is February 8 - sign up today!

Buy Tickets

Actually, I do have a resolution

I take back what I said about one year not necessarily being different from the next, because I have been thinking something specific as it relates to this year, and, I plan, future years.

That is the motto and energy with which I approach this year. I am an energetic, apparently yellow aura kind of person already. What I need to recall to mind is this: that I have enough.

I mean this in every sense: physical belongings, cute outfits, space in my home, time in my day, food in the fridge, ability to get what I need to live, intelligence. I have enough. Thanks be to God, I have never truly experienced want. Why on earth would I ever be ungrateful for what I have?

I call this to mind because, especially around the holidays, it is easy to get sucked up into what we don’t have. A gift as good as someone else’s, a family as nice as someone else’s, enough of a bonus to take a big trip. Whatever it is.

Instead, I want to re-position this thinking in my own life entirely. While I have not truly gone without, there is no doubt that as humans we will, for example, experience loneliness. Or, a lack of love from the people who should love us most. Or, a sense of injustice for being passed over for something that ought to have been ours. You know what I mean.

Even then, the response is to say, I have enough, because you do. What I mean by that is: you have God. You have hope. You have tomorrow (unless, God willing, you lose your life, in which case, God, today is enough, because You say so). To say you have enough is to say you trust God. Not only that, but that you are grateful.

It is a freeing thought: I have enough. Try it.