Peace Beyond Understanding

“Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4:7)

This Advent we are pondering our call to depth: to live and think and feel and pray deeply.  We have spoken of how to live deeply, with courage, how to think deeply, with discernment.  On this Third Sunday of Advent, I would like to share some thoughts on how we feel deeply, with compassion.

A sister recently shared with me her reflections on one aspect of our life in community.  She is one who likes to apply a dose of lightheartedness to everyday situations, to help herself and others keep a sense of humor.  This goes down well sometimes, but other times not so well.  Why is this?  As she sought to understand the negative response she had received from a certain sister, I admire the fact that she did not immediately jump to the conclusion that the other had a bad attitude and needed to change.  Rather, her response was: I think she is in pain – physical pain.  Perhaps dealing with this takes up all her energy, leaving not too much available for lightheartedness.  I need to make an adjustment in how I relate to her.

My response was to point out how she was living St Benedict’s instruction to the abbot in Chapter 2 of the Rule:
“Serving a variety of temperaments…He must so accommodate and adapt himself to each one’s character and intelligence” (RB 2.31, 32).
We may have been encouraged to “just be yourself” with others; at all times we are to “be ourselves.”  But if we do so in such a stridently insensitive manner as not to allow the other to be herself, then we have failed to make a genuine human connection.  In our daily interactions, we manifest different facets of ourselves according to our mood and our outer circumstances.  Each person we encounter may bring out something subtly different from us, as we do from them.  We could even say that we discover who we are in relationship with others.  The fact that we are constantly changing and adapting in relation to others is a beautiful thing, a dance of charity, provided we make use of it not to get what we want from others, but to share in mutual giving and receiving. 

Remember Fr Isaac’s retreat conferences.  He made the point that in the spiritual life, in all human life, relationship is essential.  The basis of relationship is our spiritual identity as Imago Dei – created in the image and likeness of God.  I think many of us were touched by his discussion of the primal importance of being understood.  Misunderstanding is harder to forgive than infidelity, he said.  To understand someone is to see them in the beauty of their spiritual identity, to perceive their inner goodness.  It is to appreciate, value, esteem and honor them.  
I am reminded of something St Therese wrote about what it means to love one another: “I realize that true charity consists in putting up with all one’s neighbor’s faults, never being surprised by his weakness, and being inspired by the least of his virtues” (St Therese, The Story of a Soul).  St Bernard would call this the Second Step of Truth: to look upon one’s neighbor in truth is to do so with mercy and gentleness, giving them the benefit of the doubt, seeking goodness.  On this Gaudete Sunday, we hear from the prophet Zephaniah about God’s joy as the source of ours:
    “The LORD, your God, is in your midst,
        a mighty savior;
    he will rejoice over you with gladness,
        and renew you in his love,
    he will sing joyfully because of you,
        as one sings at festivals.” (Zeph 3:17-18)
The Lord rejoices over us, sings joyfully because of us, and we in turn can find joy in one another.

What about failure?  We experience misunderstandings and hurt feelings aplenty.  Isaac of Stella bemoans our failures in charity:
“Why is it that we take so little care to seek opportunities to help each other, to see how we could be useful to each other, even where we really know that it is necessary, where we see that we could bear the burdens of our brethren?  The Apostle urges us to do this when he says, “Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ.”  And again, “Bear with one another in charity.”  This is the only law of Christ.  And how is it that when I see in my brother something that cannot be put right, because of either his physical or his moral weakness, I do not bear patiently with him, loving him and caring for him with all my heart?  Is it not that I lack in myself the charity that bears all things, suffers all things and is kind, because it is love?”  (Isaac of Stella)
It is so easy to judge, to point out the fault.  We fail so often in showing appreciation, value, esteem and honor to one another.  Does this mean we give up?  Never.  When we first enter the community, we may believe we are living with saints or angels.  Perhaps we think this is appropriate company for the saint or angel we ourselves are!  After some months or years of exposure to people being themselves, we revise our opinion: we are in fact living with a houseful of demons, and we are one too!  Gradually, with God’s grace and the help of those around us, we begin to learn that we are not among saints or angels or demons, but just people.  Just people.  People created in God’s image and likeness.  People fallen in sin.  People striving to rise and do better.  People, just like me.  What encourages me in this community is the ability I see in you to keep on getting up and trying to love as best you can in the moment.  Failing, falling, getting up, trying again.

In this, as in all areas of life, we have different capacities.  As Fr Isaac said of our journey to human maturity: the distance traveled is more important that the point reached.  Some of us are naturally so well-attuned to the feelings and sufferings of others that we experience them almost as our own and respond spontaneously.  This is a precious gift in community, and we have much to learn from such people.  The danger comes if one confuses another’s feelings with one’s own and so tends to neglect oneself.  On the other hand, the gift may manifest its dark side as an excessive curiosity or failure to respect boundaries – no-one likes to feel that they’re under an x-ray machine.  But then some of us have a greater or lesser handicap in relating to others.  We may find it very difficult or distressing to open ourselves to the feelings and sufferings of others.  This might be because we are afraid of being engulfed and overwhelmed by the other, that allowing someone’s pain to spill over will drown us.  We may more or less deliberately withdraw and put up walls to keep out their pain.  Or it may be that our own pain swells so massively within us that there is little or no space left to attend to others.  The result is unhappiness, isolation and the tendency to hurt others without fully realizing it.  We can see that it is more than a matter of static personality traits.  An extravert may find it natural to reach out and be socially at ease, but not really see or hear the person in front of them.  An introvert may be sensitive and a good listener, but not have a clue how to respond appropriately.  All of us have something to learn.  All of us are on a journey to full human maturity.  As we look at ourselves and at others we must remember: the distance traveled is more important that the point reached.  

We may fear the call to feel deeply, to open ourselves to compassion.  We may think that this will threaten our fragile inner peace.  But I believe the opposite is true.  I believe that if we can learn to welcome the other, without denying hurts and misunderstandings, faults and sins, but with openness to carry their burden with them in some way, we will find the peace beyond understanding that Paul talks about.  We need only think of Fr. Walter Ciszek, whose letters to his many spiritual sons and daughters are shining examples of how to appreciate, value, esteem and honor people.  With what respect and tenderness did he address himself to the 16-year-old girl seeking holiness, to the young woman dealing with an unexpected pregnancy, to the mother despairing of her children’s spiritual health.  In each case he called patience and trust in God’s work of drawing us to himself.  His own radiant peace and joy is evidence that carrying one another’s burdens is truly the way to human flourishing.

Don’t get me wrong, I know have a long way to travel on this road.  The only reason I have courage to say these things to you this morning is because I believe that the distance traveled is more important that the point reached.  What progress I have made in letting other people in has given me enough of a taste of its fruits to spur me on.  Peace beyond understanding.  And joy in knowing that God holds all of us and all our sorrows in his great heart.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.  Let your gentleness be known to everyone.  The Lord is near.” (Phil 4:4-5)