Baldwin of Ford builds the foundation for the cenobitic life on the loftiest reality—the Trinitarian communion. What greater inspiration for living the common life is there than this fact? I am also struck by Baldwin’s treatment of the liberality of love. God’s love is poured out liberally (just the like the sun is pouring forth in super abundance its roasting rays here in Vina, Ca.) A good thing cannot be hoarded; Goodness begs to be given away—with gusto! I wonder if one were to recognize more keenly the goodness within oneself if one would love others more? Perhaps if our goodness is recognized by our brother or sister in community, then we respond by loving more. It seems then that love begets it a sweet cycle of self-generation—not too unlike the love fest that is the Trinity. Hmm…love others and create more love in the world? Now that’s an exciting idea.
Br Luis Cortes, Vina
The Scorching of Love
We are caught up into the life of the Trinity, a life of flowing mutual relationship: love, charity. This bubbles up into the zeal we bring to our common life. The living water that Jesus promised the Samaritan woman is this dynamic energy of charity. At times I am able to draw my attention toward this lively up-flowing; at other times I am unable to direct attention there and I remain distracted, without zest. Yet by faith I know that the liveliness of this upbubbling water continues without my attention. Without my feeling its zest, it persists, deeply hidden, waiting for me to return.
Baldwin chooses the image of fire, “always trying to reach out for whatever is burning. It has no wish to live only in itself, and it therefore shares its heat with the things it has touched and burned. In just the same way, love, by a certain instinctive movement, longs to pour itself forth and transfer the good it possesses to someone it loves with all its love; it longs to have it in common, to take the other as a companion and to share its possession with him.” This image is richly resonant. I often encourage others in their lectio to be open to the flow of association and connections to words and images, for within that flow we may catch something more of the fullness of the word. That word persists, rich, containing depths that patiently wait for me to discern.
In this fire, as Baldwin describes it, there is dynamism: it is “trying to reach out.” There is intention: “it has no wish to live only in itself, it therefore shares its heat.” And there is something else -- in fact, my heart flutters at the mention of “things it has touched and burned,” for this burning may be painful. Is it possible that love can scorch a bit before it warms? Indeed it may. The scorching of love is a dimension we children post-Vatican II may not like. Too often we take our ease with images of the gentle warmth of a tender heart, choosing to ignore that it may take time for the comforting warmth to develop or to be sensed. As I write this I realize that this is one of the dimensions of community that is hard to convey to newcomers: love may not be felt as warmth early on. The fire of love may irritate, leave tender spots that require analgesic creams to ease the soreness. It may take a long time to find faith in the constant love of our brothers and sisters. Without my feeling the zest of this love, it persists, deeply hidden, waiting for me to discern.
There is always a faint light from this fire in our hearts. “If you were not darkened by sin, my soul, you could know God with complete intimacy in your own nature, as in his image.”
Br Cassian Russell, Conyers
Giving love, giving life.
In our monastery refectory, I have the joy of sitting between two of our most senior sisters in community. Sr. Cecile, who is 96 years old, sits in her wheelchair to my right. Sr. Perpetua, 89, sits on my left. Both of these women inspire me as beautiful witnesses of love and fidelity. I have the privilege of helping Sr. Perpetua to get her meals and attending to her needs while in the refectory. It is a small job, but in truth, I receive more than I give, as is often the case when we go beyond ourselves.
We know from Scripture that God is love and that we are called to give love to one another. Baldwin of Ford writes in Tractate XV, “God is life” (p. 157). As I understand it – giving life is indistinguishable from giving love. A question I often need to ask myself is: Is what I am doing at this moment giving and encouraging life in another person, or am I taking life away, tearing down or hurting another? My actions or thoughts have the power to build up or destroy. Do I choose life and love?
It is easy to love those who love me. Sr. Perpetua showers me with her affection, deep gratitude, prayers, and endless words of kindness. I do not help her because of the great love she shows towards me, but her giving life and love to me makes it come naturally to me to want to help her time and again.
Further on in this text of Baldwin’s on cenobitic life, he emphasized with strong reminders and many exclamation marks the important reminder: “To love well and to hate well . . . love our enemies and hate our friends!” (p. 172) These emphatic words pull me back and remind me of Jesus’ essential point – love your enemies.
As St. Therese of Liseiux wrote, “No doubt we don’t have enemies in Carmel, but there are feelings. One feels attracted to one sister, whereas with regard to another, one would make a long detour in order to avoid meeting her. And so, without even knowing it, she becomes an object of persecution.” Her words echo Baldwin’s and remind me of the need to question myself. The sisters in community who have annoying or frustrating behaviors (by my standards), who don’t affirm me, who challenge me, whom I find it difficult to connect with, whom I’d rather avoid – do I give life and love to them or do I take it away? Do I love or avoid loving? It is hard to give and receive nothing back in return. My motivation is lacking. Do I love all equally? Do I love my enemies? How do I love them? Do I try – especially when it is hard for any reason? Do I keep trying even when I fail?
It is essential that I remember to examine my thoughts and outward gestures and behaviors by these guidelines to love my loving neighbor and my difficult enemy. Do I give life and love to all or just to my friends? Baldwin speaks of God as charity, “the nature of charity is to love and to wish to be loved.” (p. 159). So too, my sisters in community wish to be loved. We are called to be generous in our service and our love to each other. “Love one another as I have loved you.”
Baldwin goes on to say that through charity we may see God. “Indeed he (God) is seen in charity – and even more in charity (than in faith)!” “Through (charity) the image of God is reformed in us; through (charity) God is seen and sensed in us much more completely than he is known by faith alone.” (p. 161)
So, let us go. May our efforts to love our sisters and brothers in community bear much fruit for our world. May it bring us to a deeper understanding of God, who is love and life. May our efforts to love bring us beyond ourselves and transform our hearts and lives and lead us deeper into the heart of God. Amen.
