Carmel Reflections

22 - Becoming - Political

The Mountain came to get me. Jumped right into my path, tripped me up, laughed, and said, 'I was never anywhere else.'

I cannot be constrained or contained, especially not within a patriarchy. I can only travel in loose confraternity, willingly choosing each step to take in freedom, volition by grace finding union.

I bumped into a three day event celebrating a century of Fatima on Monday. A procession was just beginning when I stepped into a church for a bit of quiet, confused about the time for something else. There was music and incense and silence, and a surprising discovery: one of the apparitions of Our Lady at Fatima was of Mary of Mount Carmel. I never knew. As part of the celebration, a ceremony was open to anyone to affiliate to Carmel. After thirty years of hesitating, I jumped in.

We are the Carmels of the least: we have the least and simplest rules, and I can continue to be on the wrong page of the prayer book, and even the wrong year, and it doesn't matter. And if I lose my book for a few months and just say a bit of the Rosary, I'm fine. But daily. A scene from the Rosary, making space for it. Living it in the mind's eye. In the heart. That's the crux of it. That's what's required. And then you're fine.

And the Mass.

And the grace and courage to reconcile and rebalance and realign. No mean feat.

Carmelites of the least have the least support too. It's up to you. You have to do it knowing that no-one else knows or cares. No-one will say well done, or give you a cake after a year, or warn you when you go off course, or pick you up when you fall. It's your promise. It's up to you. And God. With Mary. You just have to get on with it.

No fanfare for this. A few familiar faces and some new ones. A step forward. A happy catching of droplets from a blessing with Holy Water, and then the words, the clothing, and a sacramental stillness.

Commitment.

We are so lowly there isn't even a list of us. No-one knows how many of us there are world wide. Yet this was all I ever wanted. To be called by my name, held freely and completely.

(The week of the Feast of St Albert of Jerusalem, writer of the Way - the Rule of Carmel)

Cohen's courage, respect and insight in Warsaw, 1985, in the song 'If it be your will,' take my breath away. His words really move me (link above). Little promises from little people are so tiny next to this. But we are all part of each other's story. Prayer has to go beyond just the personal, like Cohen's prayer, above and beyond, while staying alongside, respectfully and with love.

And each one, in our little places, can be part of this active spiritual practice:

Leonard Cohen's words from 'My Song has No Flag' in the link below:

'I come from a country where we do not have the same struggles as you have.

I respect your struggles.

And it may surprise you that I respect both sides of this struggle.

It seems to be that in Europe there needs to be a left foot and a right foot to move forward.

I wish that the both feet move forward and that the body moves towards its proper destiny.

This is an intense country.

The people are heroic.

The spirit is independent.

It is a difficult country to govern.

It needs a strong government and a strong union.

When I was a child and I went to synagogue on a Saturday morning, 

...   Once in this country there were thousands of synagogues which were wiped out in a few months...

we were proud and happy to pray for the welfare of the government

And I would like to say to you to the leaders of the left and of the right

I sing for everyone.

My song has no flag.

And I say the prayer that we said in our synagogue

For the leader of your union and the leader of your government

May the Lord put a spirit of wisdom in the hearts of your leaders and of your counsellors.'