Detachment... Holy Indifference

[Sirach2]

I’m not understanding how the mortifications transfers to detachment. Did she ever say that, even though she wanted to put love for the Lord above all else, she wanted to be detached or indifferent toward those around her?

Yes, in fact she did, Denise, but not “indifferent” as you used the word.
If you have the Carmelite manuscript written by John Clarke, OCD, it is on page 236-37, where she described a relationship with a sister that she discerned was taking a different turn away from the permission Mother had given them to hold conversations in order to “incite one another to greater love of our Spouse.” It was very painful for Therese to end those conversations, which resembled those of two worldly friends.

“I was able to console her whom you had given me as a sister among the rest and to explain in what love really consisted. I pointed out to her that it was herself she was loving, not you. I told her, too, how I loved you and the sacrifices I was obliged to make at the commencement of my religious life [the banister incident I shared earlier] … in order not to become attached to you in a physical way as a dog is attached to its master. Love is nourished only by sacrifices, and the more a soul refuses natural satisfactions, the stronger and more disinterested becomes its tenderness.”

This is hard to explain, for I believe you understand detachment and holy indifference as a translation that is found in the dictionary, not in spiritual language. IOW, you seem to think it means aloofness, disregard, unconcerned, separateness, stoic unfeeling, etc.

I’m somewhat hesitant to elaborate further, since your concept of St. Therese is not true Carmelite spirituality, and to explain our charism would involve a great deal more than would be appropriate in this thread. This is generally the world’s picture of St. Therese, the sweet Little Flower who showers down roses.

TrueLight mentioned that there is a misconception of what detachment really means. I’m going to spend some time in prayer and see if there may be an easy way to bring it to light.

 

[JReducation]

All of what you are saying is true, and we must try.

I am saying is that God’s grace has to be present first. Without God’s grace, we can do nothing. Grace must not be ignored.

And I am saying that for some, including myself, it is not a matter of violent self-denial. It is simply a matter of asking God to take away our carnal desires, and through prayer, and docility to the holy spirit, one day we wake up to find that we no longer desire that thing, that food, or that fill in the blank. We wake up one day to find that we are detached from worry and anxiety and lust for that particular created thing, and that we are free to pick it up and use it and then put it away and not use without fear and anxiety, at our command, rather than having it control us. Little by little, with great patience, God gives me the ability to decide in perfect freedom, when and how to use created things.

For me it has always been this way. I have prayed for God to help me with something, and through patience and humilty, have been granted my wish. Every time I try to force things through my own efforts, I wind up miserable, defeated.

I don’t mean to sound contrary. That is not my intent. For me, self denial must be practiced in a very gentle way. Fr. Jaques Phillipe, a member of the Community of the Beatitudes which is based on Carmelite spirituality, wrote a fantastic little book titled "In the School of the Holy Spirit"" which teaches docility to the Holy Spirit - how to foster promptings of the Holy Spirit and how to recognize those promptings - little nudges - as coming from God and be obedient to them.

Moreover, one small act of obedience to God can sometimes cause us to make more progress spiritually than years of effort according to our own plans. Fidelity to small graces draws down bigger ones.
—In the School of the Holy Spirit, p.59

His books are a few dollars each and each is small, no more than 90 or 100 pages or so. They are wonderful little spiritual pills, full of humilty and gentlenss and great wisdom. I have done things that I never thought possible, or never thought to do in the first place, things which change people’s lives, through simple obedience to a small whisper or a nudge from God.

-Tim-

I sometimes teach highly technical material to adults. When I can reduce a large volume of information to a few kernels, a few core ideas which communicate the essence of everything behind those ideas, my students get the most value. They learn things in ways which make the material very difficult to forget.

Your explanation here is wonderful.

Is this not the the theological virtue of hope, a desire for heaven and the beatific vision as our happiness? Or am I off on a tangent? That popped into my mind from the catechism.

-Tim-

You know what I think would be helpful Timothy and Sirach? Maybe some examples of how some lay Saints approached detachment.

Sirach, can you share a little, if you don’t mind, of how you as a lay Carmelite approach it, while having worldly responsibilities like work?

Gianna Molla

Is an example of a lay woman who practiced detachment to heroic levels. She had everything that a woman could want. She was a physician. Her husband was a very devout Catholic, good husband and father. She had beautiful children. During her last pregnancy, complications arise.

There was an opportunity to try to heal her, but it would put her baby at risk. They weren’t even talking abortion. This was not something that people considered a choice during the early pat of the 20th century. Gianna, said no. She wanted to wait until she gave birth. If it was God’s will, the problem could be addressed then. As time passed, her situation became more grave.

She had two brothers who were physicians, one of them a Capuchin Franciscan Friar, another a diocesan priest and she had a sister who was a physician, who was a religious. She confided to them that she would rather leave her husband and children rather than do anything that would do harm to the life that God had placed in her womb. She gave birth and died shortly after. She left four children and a husband behind.

As she was dying, her sister the sister was tending to her. She held on to the crucifix on her sister’s habit and simply said that while she felt sorrow at leaving her four children without a mother and her husband alone, she also felt great joy in doing the will of God. That’s heroic detachment.

Like her, there are other saints: Elizabeth of Hungry, a wife, mother and widow, who left her children in the care of her wealthy in-laws to serve God as a Secular Franciscan. Elizabeth Ann Seton, a wife, mother and widow, who left everything behind to follow Christ into the Church and would later put herself and her children through heroic sacrifices for the sake of charity, finally founding the American branch of the Sisters of Charity. Catherine of Genoa was a wife and mother who was the Mother Teresa of her time. She detached from material possessions and drew her husband and children into the service of the poorest of the poor. There have also been laymen such as Thomas More who practiced great detachment for love of God and it cost him his life, even though he left behind a widow and children.

It all goes back to the basic definition. We give what God takes and we accept what he gives.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

 

[JReducation]

Saints? Brother JR said it best…

As to the rest of us…

I picture myself looking down the street, and waaaaay down the street is Jesus, standing there, waiting for me. Oddly enough, the street I usually picture is 34th street looking east from 5th Avenue. I’m not kidding. I had a customer near there and spent many months there, including 9-11. LOL.

Anyway, way down the end of the street, like 2nd Avenue or something D) is Jesus, and he is waiting for me. And I have to focus on Jesus as I walk toward him. And people on the sidwalks are saying, “Hey, look at this ZR1 Corvette and this Mustang Cobra. You know you have always wanted one.” They are offering me all kinds of stuff and the street vendors are trying to get me to buy socks. They are trying to distract me from Jesus. They are trying to get me to take my eyes off Jesus. And the shop windows all have such interesting stuff, like that gem and mineral store on the corner of Madison and 34th. Is that store still there? It is all so distracting from the prize, Jesus, at the end of the street.

And there are manholes with no covers that I can fall into. I think the devil stole the manhole covers, and I wonder if that sex shop is still open on that side street, or if that pretty girl still works in that building, of if Macy’s has the new watch collection on display, or where that well dressed man bought that nice shirt - Bergdorf, no doubt.

And the longer I walk, the more I am able to ignore all this stuff. Taxi cabs and car horns, and the red lights that make me stop and wait - endlessly wait - wondering if I will ever get to see Jesus at the end of the road. I learn to put blinders on, to deal with things as they come, but to always keep my eyes at the end of the road, where Jesus is, smiling and waiting for me. Slowly, after getting tricked and distracted too many times, I learn to ignore what is not important, to watch out for the manholes and and to keep my eyes on the prize.

This is actually what I think of sometimes, Jesus at the end of 34th stree, and me walking toward him amidst the bustle of the city. Sometimes I say out loud, “Keep your eyes on the prize.” I remind myself that everything except Jesus is just a distraction, that Jesus is in charge, and that he has taken me this far…

I have to tell you that my daughter died in 1996. She was my only child. 4 1/2 years old. Stephanie Marie, baptized and buried in Catholic ground by the grace of God before I was even a Christian. And several years ago, my wife walked out, left me with two girls, 7 and 11 at the time. I remind myself that before I even knew God, he carried me through all of that and brought me here. I remind myself that God used a Baptist Pastor to bring me to him, and eventually to his Church (talk about being humbled! ) If he could take me through all of that while I addicted to habitual sin - crucifying Jesus - then he will get me through the anxiety of needing new car tires or a letter from the HOA telling me that I have 90 days to get a fresh coat of paint on the house. He will get me through this. Sometimes you have to look behind you to see where you are going.

Did you ever see that footprints in the sand picture?

And it isn’t easy. Sometimes I get distracted, or stop to look in the shop windows, or a car horn scares me to death or I trip on the curb as I make my way down the street, or have to wait for the light to change. But the older I get, the closer I get to death, the easier it gets. Only I can’t see Jesus as clearly, but I know he is there because he has gotten me this far, and for now he needs me to take care of these kids.

There is so much more, about learning to stop and help someone on the street because it is what Jesus wants me to do, and taking time to rest as I move down the street, but I should just apologize for all this jibberish and nonsense. I hope it makes sense somehow, and helps someone.

-Tim-

Thank you for your beautiful testimony. I can certainly relate. I was not born a brother. i was married and had three children. There was an accident. My wife and father were killed instantly. My 7-year old son was on life support for about 12 hours. I finally had to turn off the machines, because there was no brain left in his cranium. I was alone with a 9 yr old daughter and a 4 yr old son with autism. They’re adults today and functioning very well.

As you say so well, you keep your eyes on the prize and you accept these things are part of the journey and God provides the rest. Of course there are distractions along the way. You just give what he takes and accept what he gives.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

 

[TrueLight]

S

And it isn’t easy. Sometimes I get distracted, or stop to look in the shop windows, or a car horn scares me to death or I trip on the curb as I make my way down the street, or have to wait for the light to change. But the older I get, the closer I get to death, the easier it gets. Only I can’t see Jesus as clearly, but I know he is there because he has gotten me this far, and for now he needs me to take care of these kids.

-Tim-

Timothy,

Thank you so much for sharing so much of your personal life. May your daughter rest in peace.

I am sorry for your pain that you experienced with your wife. God has great plans for you.

I too like the analogy of walking down a bustling NYC street (as you know this is my daily existence), and focusing on Jesus at the end.

What do you mean by you can’t see Jesus as clearly?

 

[Denise1957]

Yes, in fact she did, Denise, but not “indifferent” as you used the word.
If you have the Carmelite manuscript written by John Clarke, OCD, it is on page 236-37, where she described a relationship with a sister that she discerned was taking a different turn away from the permission Mother had given them to hold conversations in order to “incite one another to greater love of our Spouse.” It was very painful for Therese to end those conversations, which resembled those of two worldly friends.

“I was able to console her whom you had given me as a sister among the rest and to explain in what love really consisted. I pointed out to her that it was herself she was loving, not you. I told her, too, how I loved you and the sacrifices I was obliged to make at the commencement of my religious life [the banister incident I shared earlier] … in order not to become attached to you in a physical way as a dog is attached to its master. Love is nourished only by sacrifices, and the more a soul refuses natural satisfactions, the stronger and more disinterested becomes its tenderness.”

This is hard to explain, for I believe you understand detachment and holy indifference as a translation that is found in the dictionary, not in spiritual language. IOW, you seem to think it means aloofness, disregard, unconcerned, separateness, stoic unfeeling, etc.

I’m somewhat hesitant to elaborate further, since your concept of St. Therese is not true Carmelite spirituality, and to explain our charism would involve a great deal more than would be appropriate in this thread. This is generally the world’s picture of St. Therese, the sweet Little Flower who showers down roses.

TrueLight mentioned that there is a misconception of what detachment really means. I’m going to spend some time in prayer and see if there may be an easy way to bring it to light.

Alright, you have shown that everything that I had thought about St. Therese has been wrong. That’s okay. She really did, after all, want to be detached from everyone around her.
I can see now that she is not the same person that I had thought she was. Such is the folly of using saints to prove a point, which I will try to be careful about. So what about St. Margaret Clitherow? She was canonized a saint, but she was not detached from everyone as St. Therese was. How could she have become a saint, then?

In the secular world, for those who have children to care for, or other obligations, it does not work that way (like St. Therese). Those of us who have raised children will understand.

 

[TrueLight]

Like her, there are other saints: Elizabeth of Hungry, a wife, mother and widow, who left her children in the care of her wealthy in-laws to serve God as a Secular Franciscan. Elizabeth Ann Seton, a wife, mother and widow, who left everything behind to follow Christ into the Church and would later put herself and her children through heroic sacrifices for the sake of charity, finally founding the American branch of the Sisters of Charity. Catherine of Genoa was a wife and mother who was the Mother Teresa of her time. She detached from material possessions and drew her husband and children into the service of the poorest of the poor. There have also been laymen such as Thomas More who practiced great detachment for love of God and it cost him his life, even though he left behind a widow and children.

It all goes back to the basic definition. We give what God takes and we accept what he gives.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

This is good. I’m going to read a little about their lives.

Thanks!

 

[TrueLight]

Thank you for your beautiful testimony. I can certainly relate. I was not born a brother. i was married and had three children. There was an accident. My wife and father were killed instantly. My 7-year old son was on life support for about 12 hours. I finally had to turn off the machines, because there was no brain left in his cranium. I was alone with a 9 yr old daughter and a 4 yr old son with autism. They’re adults today and functioning very well.

As you say so well, you keep your eyes on the prize and you accept these things are part of the journey and God provides the rest. Of course there are distractions along the way. You just give what he takes and accept what he gives.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

Wow, Br. Jr. I knew you were a widower but I didn’t know the circumstances.

God bless you.

 

[Marie5890]

Wow, Br. Jr. I knew you were a widower but I didn’t know the circumstances.

God bless you.

What TrueLight said.

God Bless, Bro.Jr. to you, too.

I can see how “You give what God takes and you take what God gives” really plays out in your life (and Tim’s) given the circumstances.

 

[Denise1957]

This is good. I’m going to read a little about their lives.

Thanks!

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton was not detached from her children or husband. Her husband died from tuberculosis, leaving her with young children to raise. His death led, in part, to her conversion, since she was in Italy when her husband died. After her conversion, she was asked by the Archbishop to found a school, but she declined, since it would involve leaving her children. The Archbishop then consented to allowing her children be with her in the school. Later, two of her daughters died. She was devastated; she wasn’t detached from the sorrow which accompanied their deaths, but she accepted it with humility.

She was a convert, and much good was brought out of the tragedies which she experienced, but she was not required to be detached from her family or loved ones. She was able to put things into perspective and to see the will of God.

Our Lord said…Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Our Lord did not say that we should be detached from sorrow from the deaths of loved ones. We are not Buddhists.

 

[Oneofthewomen]

This is a beautiful thread!!

I am very Ignatian in my spirituality,
and have learned much about the art of detachment,
too bad I can’t always put it into practice!

@Tim- thank you for sharing your story. The the use of one’s imagination is a very important part of Ignatian spirituality, and I love it when I see this in other people testimony!

@Denise- based on how I am understanding your posts, I think you may have in incorrect idea of what “detachment” really is. I found that St. Igantius’ way really speaks to me, and helped me to see “detachment” as a way fo rme to let go of the control I was always seeking. I had to learn to “detach” myself from thoughts, feelings, actions, that took me away from God. And I had to learn that being “detached” does not mean that I stil don’t love and care for people, I just do it differently.
You are right that living in the secular world is a lot different that living as a nun in a cloister, but the detachment is still the same, it’s just lived out differently. St. Ignatius knew this too. His “Spiritual Exercises” are meant to be experienced as a 30 day silent retreat, but even he knew (nealy 500 years ago! ), that most people could not leave the world for 30 days, so he added the “19th Anotation” to the “Exercises” that draws the retreat out over 30 weeks. It is often called the “retreat of everyday life”. I did it a couple of years ago, and continue to structure my prayer routine around the Exercises. It has been a great help to my spirituality, and has allowed me to learn to live the life of detachment I seek, in this crazy, secular world I live in!

Peace to all!!

Edited to add:
This prayer pretty much “sums up” what St. Ignatius teaches about “detachment”

Suscipe
St. Ignatius of Loyola

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

 

[Sirach2]

Denise, I see that you still carry a wrong idea of detachment.
Still praying for insight to help you discover the true meaning.
The only one that comes to mind at this moment is that of Mary at Cana, “Do whatever He tells you.” Obviously, she was deeply caring and sensitive to the embarrassment of the couple whose wine was running out. Yet, her answer to the servants demonstrated her perfect indifference, loving resignation to His will. Whatever Jesus would do in their behalf was equally right and good in her eyes, no matter what.

It is to say with St. Paul, I have learned to be content in all circumstances, to live in abundance, or to suffer want - it is all the same to me. Thy will be done in me. JR’s definition would be good here. It is perfect trust that is able to rejoice in all things with perfect equanimity.

 

[TimothyH]

Thank you for your beautiful testimony. I can certainly relate. I was not born a brother. i was married and had three children. There was an accident. My wife and father were killed instantly. My 7-year old son was on life support for about 12 hours. I finally had to turn off the machines, because there was no brain left in his cranium. I was alone with a 9 yr old daughter and a 4 yr old son with autism. They’re adults today and functioning very well.

As you say so well, you keep your eyes on the prize and you accept these things are part of the journey and God provides the rest. Of course there are distractions along the way. You just give what he takes and accept what he gives.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

Knowing you were a widower, I had wondered. 4 year old boy with autism, wow. My hat is off to you. That must have taken a heroic effort and a lot of prayer. God puts us into the tomb with Jesus sometimes. No wonder you are a man of strong faith.

My daughter had Leukemia. Much came out of her short life, including a newly ordained priest who had to do a huge funeral Mass with hundreds of people because all the other priests were on vacation. He later told us that it scared him to death and that the bishop had sent someone to see how it all went and reported that he did a wonderful job. Her Mass was on August 15 of all days. They wern’t supposed to do funerals on Aug 15.

What do you mean by you can’t see Jesus as clearly?

I know he is there, but he doesn’t hold my hand all the time. I can’t feel him the way I used to. For the first two years it felt like Jesus was pouring love and grace into my soul. There wasn’t a moment when I didn’t feel his presence in my heart, soothing me and giving me peace when I wasn’t able to cope, even in my sleep. You had written about an intense love affair or something like that. I don’t get that as much now. I know he is there, and I feel him most of the time, but sometimes not so much.

-Tim-

 

[TrueLight]

I know he is there, but he doesn’t hold my hand all the time. I can’t feel him the way I used to. For the first two years it felt like Jesus was pouring love and grace into my soul. There wasn’t a moment when I didn’t feel his presence in my heart, soothing me and giving me peace when I wasn’t able to cope, even in my sleep. You had written about an intense love affair or something like that. I don’t get that as much now. I know he is there, and I feel him most of the time, but sometimes not so much.

-Tim-

I understand. We don’t always get those small “consolations” as both Saint Teresa of Avila and Saint Maria Faustina like to say.

 

[hazcompat]

Jean-Pierre de Caussade

ABANDONMENT TO DIVINE PROVIDENCE

Book I

SECTION II.—The Duties of Each Moment

There are remarkably few extraordinary characteristics in the outward events of the life of the most holy Virgin, at least there are none recorded in holy Scripture. Her exterior life is represented as very ordinary and simple. She did and suffered the same things that anyone in a similar state of life might do or suffer. She goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth as her other relatives did. She took shelter in a stable in consequence of her poverty. She returned to Nazareth from whence she had been driven by the persecution of Herod, and lived there with Jesus and Joseph, supporting themselves by the work of their hands. It was in this way that the holy family gained their daily bread. But what a divine nourishment Mary and Joseph received from this daily bread for the strengthening of their faith! It is like a sacrament to sanctify all their moments. What treasures of grace lie concealed in these moments filled, apparently, by the most ordinary events. That which
is visible might happen to anyone, but the invisible, discerned by faith, is no less than God operating very great things. O Bread of Angels! heavenly manna! pearl of the Gospel! Sacrament of the present moment! thou givest God under as lowy a form as the manger, the hay, or the straw. And to whom dost thou give Him? “Esurientes implevit bonis” (Luke i, 53). God reveals Himself to the humble under the most lowly forms, but the proud, attaching themselves entirely to that which is extrinsic, do not discover Him hidden beneath, and are sent empty away.
SECTION III.—The Work of our Sanctification.
How much more easily sanctity appears when regarded from this point of view.
If the work of our sanctification presents, apparently, the most insurmountable difficulties, it is because we do not know how to form a just idea of it. In reality sanctity can be reduced to one single practice, fidelity to the duties appointed by God. Now this fidelity is equally within each one’s power whether in its active practice, or passive exercise.

peace

 

[JReducation]

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton was not detached from her children or husband. Her husband died from tuberculosis, leaving her with young children to raise. His death led, in part, to her conversion, since she was in Italy when her husband died. After her conversion, she was asked by the Archbishop to found a school, but she declined, since it would involve leaving her children. The Archbishop then consented to allowing her children be with her in the school. Later, two of her daughters died. She was devastated; she wasn’t detached from the sorrow which accompanied their deaths, but she accepted it with humility.

She was a convert, and much good was brought out of the tragedies which she experienced, but she was not required to be detached from her family or loved ones. She was able to put things into perspective and to see the will of God.

Our Lord said…Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Our Lord did not say that we should be detached from sorrow from the deaths of loved ones. We are not Buddhists.

You’re misunderstanding detachment. Detachment does not mean that one stops loving or that one does not grieve at the loss of a loved one. Elizabeth’s attitude of detachment is reflected in her acceptance of God’s will in her life.

She dearly loved her husband and children, but she would not trade the love of God to keep them close to her. The fact that she loved with passion and yet surrendered what she loved for the sake of the Beloved, is detachment. The detached soul grieves for the human loss, but humbly accepts it trusting that this too is part of God’s plan for our salvation.

If you read her writings, she muses not on her family, but on eternity. This is a constant theme throughout her writings. She loves as every wife and mother loves, but she does not hang on to what she loves. God takes these loved ones and Elizabeth continues to love God and to hunger for eternity.

This is detachment, the ability to place God above everything that we love. Other people, given her sufferings in life would have thrown in the towel. Elizabeth, uses each of her experiences to find signs of eternity.

Observe her manner of dress. She never adopted the habit of the Daughters of Charity. She dressed as a widow until the day that she died. She also stated to Bishop Carroll that she did not want to make solemn vows. She opted to make simple vows instead. She never became a nun or a sister. She was a woman religious, but in temporary vows. Why?

As she told Bishop Carroll, she was a widowed mother first and foundress second. Even there she practiced detachment. Her priority was her natural vocation, Motherhood. Her love for William was expressed through her care for their children. Everything else came second. Even though the religious life was important to her and the service of charity were essential to the Gospel Life, Elizabeth was not attached to either the religious life or the works of charity without motherhood. On the contrary, she lived them in a manner consistent with her vocation to be a mother. This requires detachment. One must let go of many things and accept many sacrifices that one may not wish, in order to maintain such a balance.

Detachment is not the absence of love. It’s the opposite. It is loving Love itself, even when it means that we accept the death of a loved one as Elizabeth did.

That’s why she and I are friends. We’re both converts, widowed, parents, educators, and religious. From her merits, I can receive the grace that Christ gives in order to accept and let go, whichever the Lord may ask for at a given moment.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

 

[Sirach2]

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

Dear Oneofthewomen,

We were posting at the same time, so I was not aware until this morning that you had posted this most beautiful prayer of surrender by St. Ignatius. Many years ago when I first came upon it, I realized I couldn’t pray it with my heart, for one thing or another always held me back. What if the Lord took xxx, or what if He takes my xxx?? No, I couldn’t put my being into that prayer. Finally, one day when I really and truly prayed it, the Lord blessed me beyond my imaginings, for He is never outdone in generosity. It was as though He manifested His acceptance of my burnt offering.

An inability to pray this may reveal to the person where their “attachments” lie, and what needs to be conquered for His love. St. John of the Cross calls them “appetites” that crave for satisfaction (like the proverbial pregnant woman who wants pickles and ice cream in the middle of the night!) When these reign in our spirit, God calls us to bring them into right order by “detaching” from the things that prevent a close union with Him. For each of us, those efforts will need to be tailored to the problematic vice that holds us captive. And we ALL have tendencies to at least one of the seven, born as we are with concupiscence.

St. John lists many of these disordered appetites in Dark Night of the Soul as he points out some of the things in our nature that need purification and mortification. Consider too, that he writes for spiritual persons already on the journey, as are most who read this thread.

TrueLight requested examples, but I think a quick read of his chapters beginning here link] will enable us to discern our individual problem areas. May God give us light to know ourselves.

 

[Denise1957]

You’re misunderstanding detachment. Detachment does not mean that one stops loving or that one does not grieve at the loss of a loved one. Elizabeth’s attitude of detachment is reflected in her acceptance of God’s will in her life.

She dearly loved her husband and children, but she would not trade the love of God to keep them close to her. The fact that she loved with passion and yet surrendered what she loved for the sake of the Beloved, is detachment. The detached soul grieves for the human loss, but humbly accepts it trusting that this too is part of God’s plan for our salvation.

If you read her writings, she muses not on her family, but on eternity. This is a constant theme throughout her writings. She loves as every wife and mother loves, but she does not hang on to what she loves. God takes these loved ones and Elizabeth continues to love God and to hunger for eternity.

This is detachment, the ability to place God above everything that we love. Other people, given her sufferings in life would have thrown in the towel. Elizabeth, uses each of her experiences to find signs of eternity.

Observe her manner of dress. She never adopted the habit of the Daughters of Charity. She dressed as a widow until the day that she died. She also stated to Bishop Carroll that she did not want to make solemn vows. She opted to make simple vows instead. She never became a nun or a sister. She was a woman religious, but in temporary vows. Why?

As she told Bishop Carroll, she was a widowed mother first and foundress second. Even there she practiced detachment. Her priority was her natural vocation, Motherhood. Her love for William was expressed through her care for their children. Everything else came second. Even though the religious life was important to her and the service of charity were essential to the Gospel Life, Elizabeth was not attached to either the religious life or the works of charity without motherhood. On the contrary, she lived them in a manner consistent with her vocation to be a mother. This requires detachment. One must let go of many things and accept many sacrifices that one may not wish, in order to maintain such a balance.

Detachment is not the absence of love. It’s the opposite. It is loving Love itself, even when it means that we accept the death of a loved one as Elizabeth did.

That’s why she and I are friends. We’re both converts, widowed, parents, educators, and religious. From her merits, I can receive the grace that Christ gives in order to accept and let go, whichever the Lord may ask for at a given moment.

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

We are not to detach ourselves from those that we love in order to love and follow the will of God. Our attachment to God is the priority, but it does not involve detachment in order to achieve. I can understand if someone has been through a tragedy in life and needs to personally adopt detachment in order to cope.

If detachment from those whom we love were necessary for salvation, it would be a sin to be attached. But it is not a sin.

It would be good to have another traditionalist perpective on this, since it is mostly the non-traditionalists who are posting on this thread (that is, if there are any trads left on this subforum).

 

[Sirach2]

Denise,

Maybe some day you’ll understand. We seem to be unable to convey the meaning in a way you can grasp it.

 

[JReducation]

We are not to detach ourselves from those that we love in order to love and follow the will of God. Our attachment to God is the priority, but it does not involve detachment in order to achieve. I can understand if someone has been through a tragedy in life and needs to personally adopt detachment in order to cope.

If detachment from those whom we love were necessary for salvation, it would be a sin to be attached. But it is not a sin.

It would be good to have another traditionalist perpective on this, since it is mostly the non-traditionalists who are posting on this thread (that is, if there are any trads left on this subforum).

Denise, we have given you very traditional explanations of detachment from several spiritual masters: Francis of Assisi, Teresa of Avila, Therese, Ignatius of Loyola, Brother Lawrence, Jean-Pierre de Caussade and others. How much more traditional can we get?

Fraternally,

Br. JR, OSF

 

[simple_soul]

We are not to detach ourselves from those that we love in order to love and follow the will of God. Our attachment to God is the priority, but it does not involve detachment in order to achieve. I can understand if someone has been through a tragedy in life and needs to personally adopt detachment in order to cope.

**If detachment from those whom we love were necessary for salvation, it would be a sin to be attached. But it is not a sin.**It would be good to have another traditionalist perpective on this, since it is mostly the non-traditionalists who are posting on this thread (that is, if there are any trads left on this subforum).

*Denise, I do not know for sure and I could be wrong so please correct me if I am but I believe that you, Br. jay and Sirach might be talking past each other.(I think thats what they call it.)
Anyway please let me run by what I am seeing and maybe it will help.

When you read what Br. Jay said about St. Elizabeth here " She dearly loved her husband and children, but she would not trade the love of God to keep them close to her. The fact that she loved with passion and yet surrendered what she loved for the sake of the Beloved, is detachment."

I believe you are taking it as saying that St. Elizabeth in her surrendering what she loves for the sake of the Beloved as not loving what she is forsaking anymore. I do not believe that is what she does. Just because she forsakes or gives back to God what He has given her I do not believe that means she stops loving what she was given. It is just that she still loves God and does not hold it against Him for taking back what was His to give her in the first place. But I do not see how in giving back to God what is His to take means she stops loving that what He has given and then taken. She still loves what He has given her, she just does not trade her love for Him by being angry with Him or forsaking Him for having taken them from her. She accepts as His will willingly but still has love for them. It is like she has love for God and for what He has given her. But her love for God is greater and even though she would love for Him to change His mind and not take what He has given to her…because her love for Him is greater, she accepts His will and does not try to stop Him or convince Him to change His mind. Her only concern is for His will to be done.

not sure if this is correct but if it is I hope it helps…if it is not…I am sure Br. Jay and Sirach can correct it… *