Dear Lord,
Here I am, gingerly; per usual. And here you are, Lord, as always.
(Always... always... always).
The coursework is daunting and rigorous, Lord; and I feel there is more I could be doing, that is, dedicating more time to my studies. A lot of the material - perhaps most - is overwhelming, to say the least. In this world of seemingly unending paradoxes and mysteries; yes, Lord - it is indeed overwhelming.
But I know you are here, that I don't doubt it; how can I doubt you, or your words to me, which have pierced me through and through? I can't. I know I am guilty of not always listening, Lord; I know I have brought deafness to my soul. Yet you are always speaking, Lord. Thank you... for being patient with me.
I must be honest:
I wish we would spend more time with you, more time dialoguing with you in our classroom. In a word: I wish we prayed more. The so-called artificial separation between "spirituality" and "academia" in the "work" of theology - per the words of von Balthasar, a favorite of the Institute - is still very much perpetuated in our atmosphere. I sense it is somewhat unavoidable, Lord, given the state of our system of academics. Well, in all things: your will be done, Lord. ייעשה אלוהים.
As of late, I have been nostalgic for my love of John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. These beautiful saints, with whom I feel a deep kinship, have been a source, a reservoir, for truly coming to know God's "nuptial love" for us. The nights of John, the transverberations of Teresa - these are the doctors of nuptial love! I feel them to be - perhaps especially John - indispensable for our knowledge of you and your love, Lord - especially in light of the dramatic mission of the Institute.
(Of your Institute, blessed John Paul II, our "Father in faith").
With your help, I hope to abandon myself to You. You who allow us to share in your creation, in words and in art, in poetry and in music. How tempting it can be at times to stoop towards the Earth with your gifts, while forgetting the Giver! Lord, have mercy; let me not forget You.
While I am here at the Institute - in this surreal reality - help me to draw closer to You, as one whom John writes about:
I abandoned and forgot myself,
laying my face on my Beloved;
all things ceased; I went out from myself,
leaving my cares
forgotten among the lilies.
