Theology of the Wound: Teresa, Frodo, and SOA

Today is the feast day of St. Teresa of Avila. She is my spiritual mother. Not that she is my favorite saint, or I have the greatest attraction or feel closest to her. Love for a mother is something quite different than mere friendship. I would venture to describe my relationship to her as one of filial respect, a certain indebtedness to her for forming me as her spiritual daughter.

Childhood is not a bed of roses. In fact it sucks being a child, in a very different way from the hardship of adulthood. Learning, growing, and maturing are exhausting, painful, and humiliating. Although this process never ends in this valley of tears, it takes on a different form after leaving your parent's home—the point at which you become “independent.” This line is probably blurred in many instances, but I'm sure parents recognize stages at which their role as a parent changes in relation to their child. The "adult-child” is given more space, if you will, more liberty and autonomy.

But the child, always under a watchful eye, experiences, at least in hindsight, a gratitude for that security that they knew under their parents’ roof and protection. As they grow in self-knowledge, they may recognize the impact and influence that their mother has had on them. This has definitely been my experience. 

Accompanied by these reflections there may exist a certain nostalgia—a longing for the past, with all its innocence and naivety. There are ways in which mothers shield and prepare their children for the evils of the world. But they can’t take them away for good—they must let their children go and find their way.

The looking back in itself may be painful, as memories often are. At the same time that I experience joy on this feast day, I feel a wound. When I left Carmel, I had just read and watched The Lord of the Rings. It was a dramatic time for me, and I related all too closely with Frodo on his difficult journey and return home:

"Are you in pain, Frodo?" . . . . 

"Well, yes I am," said Frodo. "It is my shoulder. The wound aches, and the memory of darkness is heavy on me. It was a year ago today." 

"Alas! There are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured," said Gandalf. 

"I fear that it may be so with mine," said Frodo. "There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?" [967]

All the saints know this pain. All of humanity does too, whether they realize its significance or not.

"The malady from which he suffered, we all, who are of Adam's seed, suffer from the same. Such a malady has befallen us, as Esaias says, It is not a wound, nor a bruise, nor an inflamed sore; it is not possible to apply a mollifying ointment, nor oil, nor to make bandages? Thus were we wounded with an incurable wound; the Lord alone could heal it. For this reason He came in His own person; because none of the ancients, nor the law itself, nor the prophets, were able to heal this wound. He alone by His coming healed that sore of the soul, that incurable sore" -St. Macarius

Though we have been redeemed, the wound will keep hurting until we reach the “Undying Lands.”

Gregorian entrance

The Lord in His infinite wisdom has chosen the feast of Pope Gregory the Great for my entrance this Saturday. I just learned that Saint Gregory the Great had a major influence on Teresa of Avila, and so I know it is good and fitting that we seek his intercession as I take this step in the way of perfection. Saint Gregory the Great, pray for us.

Breaking the alabaster jar

After a beautiful send-off from my DC friends, and my parents coming to romantically scoop me up and bring me home, I am here now in Bloomington. But I can't say the same for my cell phone- somehow it didn't make the cut. My roommates have all my clothes now, so you guys might as well keep the phone too! (Just kidding, please send ASAP. I may need to detach from the things of the world, but not yet.) It's a month away- my entrance date is September 3rd. I am both anxious to enter Carmel, and looking forward to this time with family and friends before entering. As I was researching St. Teresa of Avila this afternoon, who I will be presenting to the Dead Theologians Society at St. Pat's of Merna this Sunday, I ran accross this video on the vocation to the cloistered life.



I wanted to share it, because I think this young lady says it better than I can. And I love the reference to Mary Magdalene, who has had a pround impact on me and whose feast we celebrated on July 22nd. Her feast day came at an important time for me, because I think last month I had been feeling particulary unworthy of the call which I am pursuing. But Mary Magdalene shows us that love covers a multitude of sins. A week later, we celebrated her sister Martha's feast day, who is known as the one who served our Lord. This feast day again had perfect timing, as this was the day that not only I was packing up to move, but all my roonmates were moving to a new house as well. We were indeed being Marthas and cleaning ALL the things.



As I grew tired of cleaning all the things,


I thought about how Jesus didn't scold Martha because she should have been at His feet like Mary. He scolded her because instead of focusing on Jesus and humbly accepting God's will for her with a joyful heart, she was worried about what others were doing and upset that Mary wasn't helping her. Little did she know that Mary was right where she was supposed to be, and so was she. So here I am in the world praying for the grace to be generous of what He asks of me this month. But I for one can't wait to break open that alabaster jar for my Lord if that is that is His will for me.