Day 34. Crushed to Fine Powder
The things we touch have no permanence. My master would say there is nothing we can hold onto in this world. Only by letting go can we truly possess what is real.
Li Mu Bai, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
How have you been doing with the fasting? It makes for a very long day, doesn’t it? Strange to call it fasting when it makes time go so slowly. At first it’s mostly a battle of the will. You know – just make it through, and plan on a big breakfast tomorrow! If you’ve been faithful to developing this new habit, though, you may have noticed something else. You begin to realize that food isn’t as necessary as you may have thought. I know that everyone’s metabolism is different and some find it more difficult. Still, there’s great value in fasting. Many reasons come to mind, but one most especially. It’s one of the clearest lessons you can teach yourself in an important spiritual discipline called detachment.
There’s another “church word” for you. Think of it this way: detachment is the opposite of attachment. My soul, wounded by sin, is like glue. It attaches itself to things in this world – some of which are absurdly insignificant. My soul latches on and demands the thing no matter what I do to try and break free. If, by some great act of will, I can deprive myself of the thing – even for a short time – my soul behaves like a tyrannical two-year-old crying loudly and demanding that I return the thing immediately.
Years ago, when I was working in New York City, I discovered a little ice cream shop near the subway station where I commuted everyday. On my way home one day I stopped in and ordered a flavor I’d never tried before. It was very good. So, the next day after work I stopped by again for a scoop of the same flavor. I liked it so much that for two weeks I got the same ice cream everyday after work. But I began to notice something that bothered me. I found myself thinking about that scoop of ice cream earlier and earlier in the day. It was becoming a distraction to my work! If I had to stay late at the office, I got irritable because I didn’t want the shop to close before I got there. Was the ice cream really that good? No. Rather, I had grown attached to the small pleasure it gave me at the end of the day. The problem was not with the ice cream, nor with enjoying a post-work treat. The problem was giving too much importance – having too much attachment – to that treat.
I realized that I needed detachment from that ice cream. One evening after work, I decided not to have any. What a reaction from my soul! It cried out, complained, grumbled and made me surprisingly uncomfortable. My soul. Who would think your soul could get so attached to something as simple as a scoop of ice cream? After three days of misery, my soul finally relented and I could walk past the ice cream shop without much inner complaint. Weeks later, I stopped in and got a scoop. So. Good. The old attachment stirred, but this time I was able to keep it under control. Over time I got to the point where I could make an occasional ice cream stop without any intense feelings of need or attachment. What a big deal over such a small thing!
The Bible calls this nasty part of our personality “the flesh” or “the old man.” The flesh is that part of me that, given the choice, will habitually choose things over God. Granted, my love for ice cream was hardly in competition with my love for God, but the experience taught me the powerful influence things can have on me. Things can be relationships, possessions, activities, achievements, goals, games, anything really. Attachments have many forms.
So we need detachment. We need to break free. Especially as you begin the work of moving your pillars, you’ll need detachment. You’re going to find that the pillars are not merely resting on the sand, clay and stones of our inadequate foundations. They are often glued there. And the only way to break free is by un-attaching – detaching – yourself from these things you rest your life on.
Fasting is an important part of the detachment process [1]. You have to stand up to the bully the flesh. Otherwise he will push you around your whole life through and he may even cost you your soul! The irony is that like any bully the flesh is really a weakling. Resist him just a little – say, a month or two in a bad habit you’re trying to root out – and he will often crumble. But you and I don’t believe this. We get intimidated because we know we’ve lost battles with the flesh in the past. So fasting builds our strength of will and our confidence in God’s power to help us break free. Here’s a little rhyme that helps me on those slow fast days: “Fasting and penance dissolves the glue that makes your sin stick to you.” This discipline unsticks my will from selfish attachments and poor Prioritizing Choices that have become bad habits.
Self-discipline may be unpleasant, but life brings about detachment in a much less pleasant way. To understand this, we return to the table, the pillars, and the shifting sands in the Ground of Reality. I mentioned that the wind blowing in a constant, restless gale is Time. I also mentioned that the Ground is violently shaken at times by earthquakes. These earthquakes are Trials. Whatever you’re attached to in this world will be shaken and shattered by Trials and then blown away by Time. In the words of St. Teresa of Avila: All things are passing. God alone suffices.
Mind you, God isn’t trying to take away everything you hold dear. Many are his gifts and he delights that you delight in them. If they get in the way of your relationship with God, however, they have to be moved, but not necessarily removed altogether. Here’s one way to think of it. If you’ve ever put a post in the ground – say for a fence or a mailbox – you know that after it’s set in the hole you drop stones in around it. Next you fill the hole with gravel, and finally sand or dirt. Surround the post with sand only and it will tilt. Stones first, followed by gravel and sand, holds the post straight and firm. The same can happen with our pillars if we are willing to be detached from our prized sand, clay and stones. Once you’ve set them aside to place the full weight of your life on the Cornerstones of Christ they can remain close to the feet of your pillars and provide a stabilizing force – if they are in harmony with your primary relationship with God.
The work of sanctification is the gradual process of crumbling, shaking loose, excavating and moving the unstable ground beneath our pillars. The intervening sand, which persistently remains between the irresistible weight at the base of our pillars and the immovable force of the Cornerstones of Christ, is, as you can imagine, subjected to increasingly intense pressure as we go deeper towards God.
This will come to you as both good news and bad news. The vise-like pressure exerted on our false foundations has the beneficial effect of choking out the roots of the “I’m Worthless” weed, of crushing the head of the “I’m Unlovable” leech, and of filling in the “It’s Pointless” pit (remember these from Day 21?). In other words, as we grow in our awareness that we are children of God, we no longer question our worth and we derive great confidence from the Father’s love. We are not so easily discouraged by the nagging feeling that, in the end, our efforts to attain heaven are useless.
The bad news is that the purification of our foundations is on-going. While the results are increasing freedom, peace, and joy, the short-term experience can be painful. There will always be intervening sand. Life itself removes much of that sand as we grow old: loved ones die, cherished goals go unachieved, independence yields to infirmity. In the end, the only sand remaining will be the most difficult of all to remove. It is the sand of self-reliance and self-sufficiency. One way to understand purgatory may be to imagine a place where the sand that is the egotistic “I” will at last be completely ground into fine powder as our Sense of Self, our Source of Love and our Hope of Happiness are finally and forever fused to the foundation for which we were made: the Rock of Jesus Christ.
What then does this scripture passage mean: ‘The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be dashed to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.
Luke 20:17, 18
In the concluding days of this section, we’re going to shift the focus away from our pillars and the Ground of Reality, but I pray this image will remain in your reflections. I pray that it will be helpful for you in understanding what grounds your life. If you’re ever tempted to ask God, “Why me?” as sufferings come your way, I pray that you will remember this image. Remember also this encouragement from St Peter: “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pt 1:6,7).
Novena Prayer
Jesus says: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
Pier Giorgio responds: With violence you sow hatred, and you harvest its bad fruits. With charity, you sow peace among men – not the peace that the world gives, but the true peace that only faith in Jesus Christ can give us in common brotherhood.
Let us pray: Blessed Pier Giorgio, guide me in claiming my rightful inheritance as a child of God and heir of His Kingdom. Show me, by your own example, how to be slow to anger, and gentle in my dealings with others. Help me to show forth the peace of Christ by speaking words of peace, and by living a life of peace.
Blessed Pier Giorgio, I ask for your intercession in obtaining from God, Who is meek and humble of heart, all the graces necessary for my spiritual and temporal welfare. I confidently turn to you for help in my present need: (in your own words, ask for the Lord to lead you into greater freedom and self knowledge)
A Book of Prayers in Honor of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, by Rev. Timothy E. Deeter
Make it My Own
Daily Discernment Workbook
A QUOTE TO NOTE
1. Self-Indulgence (not Self-Denial) is a Threat to True Happiness.
Dom Hubert Van Zeller on the Power of Fasting
The man who fasts and gives up his luxuries is not condemning himself to a life of boredom and frustration: he is freeing himself of much that could otherwise tie him down. By renouncing the amusements of the world, a man enlarges his capacity for enjoyment. …Happiness is not threatened by self-denial so much as by self-indulgence.
Happiness and sanctity are not the same things, but they very often go together. Sanctity and voluntary mortification are not the same things, but it is difficult to see how they can exist apart.
What can be more efficacious than fasting?” asks St. Leo in his thirteenth sermon, “when by its observance we are able to draw near to God, resist the devil, rise above the persuasions of evil. From the practice of abstinence arise pure ideas, reasoned desires, right-minded counsels. By means of voluntarily imposed hardships the desires of the body are restrained and the virtues of the spirit renewed.
He is freeing himself of much that could otherwise tie him down [2].
As I begin shifting my pillars by changing my prioritizing choices, what attachments, in light of the above quote, tie me down? Below is a list of possible concerns:
I’m attached to what others think of me. I don’t want to be seen as a ‘holy roller.’
I’m attached to having things my way. I’m afraid if I start doing God’s will I’ll lose all control over my life.
I’m attached to the hope that (insert name of any love-interest) will end up with me. I can’t let this desire go.
I’m attached to making a name for myself and making my family proud. Following God may lead me on a hidden path with no recognition, honors or acclaim.
My own attachments are…(some of the above or something else)
How might fasting make me more free to set aside these attachments? Consider fasting in the broadest sense – not just giving up food from time to time, but setting aside patterns of self-indulgence. Self-indulgent patterns include, for example, wasting hours on gaming, websites like Facebook or on following too many sports teams. Other examples are spending more money on shopping or entertainment than I need to, etc. How might fasting from these assist me in letting go of my attachments? I write my thoughts below…
SAINTS SAID IT
2. St. Ignatius of Loyola on Attachments
We call spiritual exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments, and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul.
St. Ignatius of Loyola, Spiritual Exercises #1 [3]
According to this quote from St. Ignatius, what is the relationship between detachment and knowing God’s will?
What are the benefits of following God’s will, and therefore of detachment?
BRAIN STORM
3. The Heart of the Matter: What Should Sarah Do?
Sarah’s good friend Jim is going to the seminary in September. She has kept her emotional attachment to him a secret for over a year. Now she wants him to know about her feelings. However, Jim needs to be able to explore priesthood without distractions, and Sarah fears that opening up will be an obstacle to Jim’s discernment.
How might fasting help Sarah make a good decision about what to do?
Let’s suppose that God is, in fact, calling Jim to the priesthood. What would be the greater tragedy? That Sarah is left with heartache because Jim becomes a priest OR that, sharing her feelings, Jim is drawn away from his true vocation? Considering the souls his priestly ministry could impact, what would I say if Sarah asked my advice?
Adjust the picture one last time. What if Jim’s vocation remains unknown, but he’s still on his way to seminary. Does that change anything? Should Sarah still hold on to her secret or let Jim know?
A QUOTE TO NOTE
4. True and False Detachment
Popular writer Gerald May, M.D. offers these helpful words about true, healthy detachment.
Detachment is the word used in spiritual traditions to describe freedom of desire. Not freedom from desire, but freedom of desire. …For centuries, people have distorted its meaning, mistakenly assuming that detachment devalues desire and denies the potential goodness of the things and people to which one can become attached. Thus detachment has come to be associated with coldness, austerity, and lack of passion. This is simply not true. An authentic spiritual understanding of detachment devalues neither desire nor the objects of desire….With freedom of desire comes the capacity to love, and love is the goal of the spiritual life….So instead of promoting a dry, uncaring state, detachment does just the opposite. It seeks a liberation of desire, and enhancement of passion, the freedom to love with all one’s being, and the willingness to bear the pain such love can bring [4].
Therefore detachment is…
To delight in all things but cling to nothing.
A freedom of desire, not a freedom from desire.
Owning things without allowing things to own me.
But detachment is NOT…
Caring less about the needs of others.
Being emotionally distant from people who love me.
Disinterest in world events and human concerns so I can pray more rosaries.
How can I enjoy life more when I am attached to it less? Give three responses.
Conclude with
“Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit.
As it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be.
World without end, Amen.”
[0] - lead quote: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Columbia Tristar, Sony Pictures, directed by Ang Lee, 2000
[1] If you’re unable to fast, for health reasons or because you have struggled with an eating disorder, there are other ways to practice self-denial. Brainstorm with your Discernment Advisor ways of denying the unruly flesh. For example, make a renewed effort to stop counting calories and to eat adequate meals, but not snacks.
[2] - Dom Hubert Van Zeller, The Inner Search, New York, Sheed and Ward Inc. 1957, p. 98f
[3] - The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, tr. by Louis J Puhl, S.J., Chicago, Loyola Press, 1968, p. 1
[4] - Gerald May M.D., Addiction and Grace, San Francisco, Harper, 1988. pp. 14-15