Seeking Insecurity

CoinPoverty as a virtue is a difficult concept to define, and an even more difficult concept to get a group of friars to agree on. My concept of poverty is different from Br. X’s whose concept of poverty is different from Br. Y’s. Do we imitate the poor, or do we attempt to eradicate poverty? Is the cheapest option the best, or should we seek the longer lasting and human-conscious options that are more expensive? I present these conflicts not to trivialize or relativize the issue (as I plan on giving my own answers to these questions at some point), but to point out that “poverty” as a goal is very vague, is difficult to define, and is easily spiritualized until actions are no longer virtuous at all. In order to remain faithful to Gospel and the spirit of St. Francis, I think that additional language is necessary to focus our efforts.

One of these words that I have written about before is sufficiency. While the post itself focuses primarily on being content with the present moment, This Moment is Sufficient was stirred by a desire to have only what I needed, spiritually and physically, without any excess. Over the past year, this has been a much more helpful word in terms of evaluating my life as a friar than the word poverty. “Do I have more than I need?” is a much easier question to answer than “Is this keeping with ‘poverty?’” Asking myself this on a regular basis has helped me to live more simply, and to remove any and all things from my life that I do not need.

But with my reflections around kenosis throughout this past year, I found that an ethic of sufficiency needs additional direction in order to live a Gospel life. To be sufficient, is by definition, to have enough. To have this as a goal, while it does limit the possibility of living with excess, is to also never experience deprivation of any kind, to never feel worry or doubt about one’s livelihood, and to never relate to those who do not have enough. On it’s own, it can allow us to be too safe. Even if we live within our means and without extravagance, when we have “enough”, especially when “enough” is accompanied by security and predictability, we are allowed to live a life that is comfortable, and worst of all, complacent. When this happens, we begin to fail Gospel poverty and our communities will inevitably fail with it. With high security and predictability, there is no room for trusting God or looking to God to provide because we become the rulers and suppliers of our own wellbeing; there is no need for a sense of urgency in our work or in our communities because the status quo does not bother us; there is no opportunity for solidarity with the poor (or even with middle class) because we can no longer relate to the anxiety of not being able to make ends meet.

Our natural response, however, is to do the complete opposite. Not only do we not seek the fruits of insecurity, we do everything in our power to rid every ounce of danger from our lives, often times going to great lengths to acquire it: we work too much, we attack others as a way to defend ourselves, we store up treasures that cannot save. We believe that our youth, skills, health, possessions, and social bonds, will last forever, that they will keep us happy and safe from all harm. This is a façade. It is the acceptance of the lie that the gift is more important than the One who gives that gift. It is the acceptance of the lie that we are capable of controlling our own fate, that all that we have acquired is somehow our own to possess, and that we received it based on our own merit. It is the acceptance of the lie that we our own saviors. 

So what does “seeking insecurity” look like? First of all, it does not look like being irresponsible, frivolous, or lazy. When we seek insecurity, we’re not making bad decisions to squander away the gifts we’ve been given. One does not strengthen their relationship with the Gifter by misusing his gifts. The real virtue lies in simply accepting that insecurity is all around us. When we accept the poverty that we have absolutely no control over our fate, that all we have is freely-given, unmerited favor from God, we begin to relate to our possessions, to others, and to God in a completely different way. With this realization, all is gift, and God is the only one worth relying on. In times of great favor, we give glory to God; in times of trouble, God is the first we seek for help; at all times, we are unwilling to waste our lives acquiring, maintaining, and protecting possessions that fade at the expense of relationships that last.

Obviously, there are just as many holes in this ethic as there are with an ethic of sufficiency, but I think together they offer greater grounding in Gospel poverty than “poverty” alone. They force us to look at the issue outside of dollars and cents alone, and focus the discussion on the purpose for the virtue in the first place: relationship with God. In the end, I think that we are only truly free when we accept that we are not in control and choose to seek the One who is. That’s true insecurity worth seeking.

Tying The Knot(s)

The three knots in the Franciscan cord symbolize the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience

The three knots in the Franciscan cord symbolize the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience

Tomorrow morning I will profess my Temporary, or “Simple,” Vows as a Franciscan Friar. What’s that mean, you ask? It means that starting tomorrow I am bound by canon law and the Order of Friars Minor to live the Rule of 1223, as interpreted by the General Constitutions and Statutes of the Order, “in obedience, without anything of my own and in chastity,” for a period of one year. For the next four years, I will have to renew them each year until I am ready to take Solemn, or “Final,” vows.

For some, especially in my commitment-fearing generation, the idea of taking vows such as these seems binding and suffocating. You mean you have to share everything? You can’t have sex? You have to do what other people tell you to do the rest of your life? That’s one way of looking at it. I, on the other hand, see it as a liberating experience.

For the rest of my life I will have a form of life to guide me. By this, I don’t mean to say that all of the sudden I will be a changed individual, completely others-centered and sinless the rest of my life, free from worry and inhibition. Rather, I mean to say that vows before God are serious reminders, inspirations, blueprints, and even excuses to act a certain way, and that, though there will not be a noticeable conversion from one day to the next, it is impossible to stay steadfast to them and also hold onto the worries of the world. What I accomplish, my career, how well I’m liked, how comfortable I am, having the right clothes, the reputation that proceeds me, and how much control I have over my life, are all worries that will eventually fade away when I recognize the significance of what I’m doing: I am consecrating my life to God. Sure, I’ll still bear the mark of a sinful human wanting to fill myself with things that do not last, but there is a part of me, if I let it out, that will never have to worry about anything more than pleasing God.

That’s why, while there are many good reasons to enter a religious order, the primary reason absolutely has to be a longing to be in deeper relationship with God. Fraternity, poverty, humility, ministry, and really cool 12th century clothing are all great, but they are not ends in themselves. Even the vows themselves, poverty, chastity, and obedience, are merely disciplines that hope to find something greater. The true end, the purpose for this life, is to love God more deeply and to seek greater communion/reconciliation with him.

When one begins to look at the vows from this perspective, there is nothing “binding” or “suffocating” about them; they’re simply liberating. Sure, financial liberty, private assets, sex, family life, independence, and professional success can all be very good things. But for me, these are all things that could distract me from giving myself fully to God. In this way, the vows are a means by which I keep unwanted distractions, although good things for others, out of my life so that I am more free to do what I really desire. Trust me when I say that taking vows is the most liberating thing that I will do in my life.

With that, I ask you to please pray for me tomorrow as I take a big step forward in my religious formation and tie the temporary knot(s) in my relationship with God. I will be away on vacation until August 19, but look for a few reflections from Novitiate while I’m gone!

What If I Fall In Love?

The question isn't a matter of what to do "if" I fall in love, but rather "when" I do.

“So, what if you take solemn vows in a few years, and after that, you meet a girl that knocks you off your feet and you fall totally in love? What do you do then? Are you allowed to leave?”

In the six months that I’ve been a postulant, and the two years I discerned religious life prior to entering, I heard this question too many times. Honestly, it’s a truly despicable question. I find it to be very indicative of the culture from which it comes: one that is afraid of commitment and is obviously skeptical of celibate chastity, whether it’s implicitly or explicitly realized.

For starters, it implicitly treats the choice to enter religious life as a “Plan B”. If there is a possibility that someone would leave religious life for marriage (which there has to be in the mind of the questioner otherwise it would have never been asked), it means that God is not ultimately the first choice; religious life was an option chosen in the absence of one’s “soul mate,” but if and when that person is found there is a new best option. In a surprisingly high number of cases, people who ask this question assume that the only reason people enter religious life is because they are either assexual or were incapable of forming and maintaining an intimate relationship with another.

The truth is, a large number of healthy men and women in religious orders have had experience in love, (and yes, even sex), before entering and taking vows. In my own life before I decided to enter, I had experienced 2 two-year long relationships with women that I loved enough to marry and was fully aware of the prospect of finding another. My choice to be a part of religious life was not without other options, nor will it be without new options in the future. (Many will tell you it’s not a matter of what to do “if” you fall in love, but rather “when.”) Like all healthy religious, however, I discerned that my life would be more greatly fulfilled in celibate chastity than in marriage, and so it was my “Plan A” to seek God in this way.

I imagine that God is insulted by this question for the same reason: is it not possible that someone could see a life fully devoted to God as the best option, an option greater than even the man/woman of one’s dreams? Not only do I know that this is entirely possible, I feel very strongly that God has called me and others to this life, and that it is just as much his choice as it is ours. When I’m asked about leaving after solemn profession for the sake of “love,” I get the sense that the asker either refuses to believe or is unable to understand that one can want a relationship with God in the form of a celibate chastity more than an exclusive relationship with another person.

The final, and most disappointing part of this question is that it completely disregards the gravity and sanctity of a covenant with God. Does solemn profession mean so little that one would be curious enough to ask whether or not a religious is willing to break it? I imagine that these same people wouldn’t ask an engaged man, “So what happens if after you’re married you meet a woman that knocks you off your feet and you fall totally in love? What do you do? Are you allowed to leave?” It’s an incredibly insulting question. Why doesn’t it sound as insulting when someone asks it about a commitment to religious life? Again, I think the person that asks this question implicitly values a commitment to God and an ascetic life less than a commitment to another person.

If you’ve asked this question before your life, I forgive you. I imagine that the implications of the question were not quite realized at the time, and had you known, you would have never asked it. For others, I hope that it is just as appalling to you as it is to me, and you will help to create a culture that views a solemn commitment to God as an extraordinarily fulfilling way of life.

At this point, I’m a long way to away from professing any sort of formal vows, and so am quite free to leave whenever I wish. At the same time, I have placed the prospect of marriage on hold for a while as to enter into an intimate, exclusive relationship with God, discerning a lifelong commitment by essentially “dating God” (a term Dan Horan, OFM has famously used.) If and when that day comes when I’m ready for solemn profession, and someone very unfortunately asks me what I would do if I fall in love, I’ll have the perfect answer for them: “I already have.”

We Met A Cardinal!

Cardinal Seán O'Malley is a Capuchin Franciscan

For all you Braves and Phillies fans out there, all Cardinals are not enemies. In some cases, they’re wonderful men who commit their lives to the service of the Church, responsible for overseeing the spiritual well being of millions of people. In this case, we’re talking about Seán O’Malley, OFM Cap, the Cardinal of Boston.

Cardinal O’Malley was in Wilmington yesterday presiding over the jubilee celebration for Sister Maria Elena Romero, P.C. Cap. Just like in marriage, men and women religious get together to celebrate big anniversaries of their profession of vows (usually 25 and 50), usually renewing them in the process. In this case, Sr. Maria Elena celebrated her 25th anniversary.

Though we got a picture with him, we really didn’t have a chance to speak with him privately. He seemed like a very nice guy, and the parts of his homily that were in English were very well spoken. (I’m not sure if he was being funnier while speaking Spanish or the Spanish speaking crowd was just easier to please, but something was working for him that I couldn’t understand!) All in all, we were very pleased to meet him and very gracious that he could come down from Boston for such a joyous occasion.

(Sorry about the picture! The blinds were actually closed behind us but I guess the sun was just that bright. Unfortunately the sun wasn’t all that warm, and being that it was an outside mass, it was quite chilly in the shade where the “choir” had to stand. I put choir in quotes because of the fact that I was in it, meaning it was not the sort of choir you would expect.)

A Glimpse of the “Finish Line”

Holy Name Province’s mother church

Originally, interested men could show up at the door of a franciscan house, be admitted by any friar, given a habit, and sent out into the world as a follower of Francis, all in the same day. Talk about on-the-job training! With friaries accepting men immature in both faith and action, the pope at the time required Francis to organize a probationary year before new members could be fully admitted into the order, and gave only the provincial (essentially the president) the authority to accept any new members. Today, we witnessed that process as Dan Horan, OFM, and Steve DeWitt, OFM, took solemn vows and were fully accepted into the Order of Friars Minor. It was a beautiful ceremony (and due to the hurricane, a bit more intimate than expected), and a joyous occasion for these two friars who entered the order more than six years ago.

It’s hard to imagine that six years ago, these two men were in my position, postulants, young and new to the order, attending some other friars’ solemn profession. It’s kind of cool that one of the first things we do is attend this ceremony because it gives us a glimpse of the “finish line,” so to speak. Obviously one’s solemn profession is by no means the end of the story or the “happily ever after” moment, but it is certainly the moment that all of us in the formation process are looking and working towards; the purpose of our formation is to prepare ourselves for a consecrated life, and that life “officially” begins at one’s profession.

The ceremony took place at the mother church of the province, the Church of St. Francis of Assisi in Middle Manhattan. Home to one of the most beautiful chapels I’ve ever been to (don’t take my word for it, check out the pictures), it is one of two “service churches” in the province: the fifteen or so friars run nine daily masses every day (to accomodate the busy lives of New Yorkers), a morning breadline for the poor that has run since 1930, a counseling center, and a ministry list too long to mention. Because it is the province’s headquarters, it is host to many bishops, mayors and other elected officials, friars from around the world, and many other high profile people. Because of this, the friary is a bit nicer than one would expect for a Franciscan church, but the friars there would assure you that they own no more or less than any other group of friars, they are merely borrowing and maintaing the gifts given to them by the community they serve; it just turns out that the community in Manhattan is very different from the community in Camden, and their material space is a reflection of that.

Also, Dan has a very popular blog and podcast (just what you need, something else to check) that you should check out: datinggod.org.