Figs and Catholic Birds

Logically, this third Jesuit retreat has been and is more. A metaphor that comes to mind is our seminary years, junior, middler, senior -- my senior retreat finishes today leaving me with a sense of graduated.

It’s early Saturday morning, not that early by my usual, but dark yet. My room is on the third floor, air condition is on, its fan blowing, but my window is open. With a cup of coffee, I’m sitting in the comfortable chair -- don’t know about other Catholic orders, but Jesuit prayer time is to be comfortable so the pray-er wants to pray or at least has one less excuse: there’s no prayer desk to grind my knees into the wood and make prayer time a dread chore of sacrifice -- looking out at the sky still pitch black above the tall oak trees. A few minutes ago a bird was chirping, but stopped. Must have found a girl friend -- in some prior post I mentioned how birds are. Which is to say, promiscuous just before dawn when nobody can see. Also when all the other birds are out for the same fun and paying no attention anyway. Birds aren’t all that different from primal people, they just haven’t evolved a guilty conscience.

Promiscuity is for protection of the species, but why in the predawn darkness if there’s no guilt? The birds peck my figs, maybe they also pecked the fruit on that tree in the center of the Garden of Eden. We think of it as apples, but it was figs and they do have a guilty conscience, thus sneaking around in the dark.

Mind wanders, the Winn-Dixie instant coffee must not have been strong enough or the tap water not hot enough.

My scripture today is Luke chapters 22:39-46 and 23:26-49, which my spiritual director said he likes to give for the fifth and final day. It’s pretty tough. A call to prayer with, bringing to mind that birds may have a guilty conscience after all, a guilt trip: why are you sleeping when you are supposed to be praying? And then a call and deep Catholic desire, as I’m finding, to know the pain and sorrow of Christ’s passion, to experience it, even to live through it with Him.

Deeply appreciated: the Jesuits here are most welcoming, including me to Eucharist at daily Mass.

Getting light in the eastern sky.

TW+