Monk Cake

I gain wisdom in the strangest places. And it's in these weird and dusty little corners that I often find God.

Someone on a forum to which I belong asked where to buy a delicious, non-grocery-store fruit cake. Since I HATE fruit cake enough to be fascinated when people actually eat it, I clicked on the link and read through the recommendations of where this horrible, horrible dessert can be obtained.

Apparently, there's a monastery right here in Virginia which makes (gag) fruit cakes and mails them off as a way to raise funds. Here's the website:

http://www.monasteryfruitcake.org

However, instead of clicking through to read more about-- ick, I clicked on the link about monastic vocations. Wouldn't you be curious? I discovered there the most frank, accessible, down-to-earth discussion that I've ever read on discerning God's call in your life.

From the FAQ section (emphasis mine):

Q: Are there signs of a monastic vocation? How would I know if I'm called?

A:I'd have to answer both "yes" and "no" to the first part of that question.

Sure, there are some signs: an attraction to prayer; a desire for God; a capacity for living with people and a basic flexibility; a disposition that could adjust to structures, routine, manual work. Of course, none of these guarantees a monastic vocation. So, no, there are no infallible signs of a monastic vocation.

Any vocation – to the religious life, to the married life – is a gift from God. A gift can be accepted but it does not have to be accepted – that's how much God respects our free will. To live in a monastery unwillingly, because I think I "have to," whether I like it or not, would be like serving a prison term. It would be torture to myself and the poor people who live with me. So there are no signs that I must enter a monastery.

But there is a way to recognize a monastic vocation: contact and meet with a monastery's Vocation Director. Together you can examine what God has done in your life and what is happening now; you may learn something from the Vocation Director's own experience or come to understand your own story better. As you grow familiar with a concrete community, you'll discover how well you "fit" together. You'll gradually gain the language and experience to understand what God is calling you to be. You'll come to know yourself and your relationship to God in a deeper way. As St. Thomas Aquinas sagely observed, "Grace builds on nature." God wouldn't call you to something you couldn't do, so you need to experience yourself from a new, informed point of view. It's the Vocation Director's job to help you arrive at that point of view.

Wow. Isn't that lovely? I LOVE the idea of some sort of spiritual director helping you to experience yourself "from a new, informed point of view." There is actually a place in Richmond to find Spiritual Directors-- it's called Richmond Hill, and it's something I hope to learn more about in the New Year.

One more gem from the FAQ--

Q. Are you guys masochists or what?

A. I'll admit, you're not the first person to ask that, and I had posed that question myself. But no, we're not. We don't decide to do without things to see how tough we are or because we hate ourselves.

But consider this: most people in the world have less than we do. Whatever we give up can make us grateful for what we have and more sensitive to the needs of others.

We also put these things aside consciously to make room and time for God in our lives. Listening to Beethoven's quartets might refine me spiritually, but having to listen to every interpretation of them ever recorded would leave me no time for prayer, for community, for life. I'd just become a self-absorbed snob. And it's not unusual that when I sorely miss some little thing or activity, I also discover how unnecessary it is. I've been known to discover that not having it brings me closer to the community and – wonder of wonders – may leave me a little freer from my own selfishness, a little more open to God.

-----

Yes. YES--- I so completely relate to this! I recently went on a Facebook fast of the (near biblical) length of 41 days, with the express purpose of opening up some space in my life for family and for spiritual growth. I found more space for both, and it was addicting. So much so that while I'm not going to swear off Facebook forever for communicative reasons, I hope to never be as embedded in that "world" ever again. It's like what Wendell Berry says in his poem "How to be a Poet:"

Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.

Staying away from anything that obscures the place it is in is going to be one of my New Year's resolutions, I think. And while there's far too much stuff of life to go off and live quietly and contemplatively, I can at least strive for regular portions of that in parts of my day.