Two New Videos: Catholicism & Protestantism, and What Does it Take To Be a Saint?

Manotti and I have enjoyed making videos so here are two new installments.

Catholicism and Protestantism.  Mostly Protestantism

In this first video I ask Manotti to comment on what he sees as some important differences between Catholics and Protestants beyond the usual responses to that: the “solas”.  What ensues in a fairly heavy conversation that introduces Kierkegaard, Karl Barth, negative theology, and more.  Manotti is from the Protestant tradition so he enlightened me to a few things I hadn’t known or really thought about.


What does it take to be a saint these days?

In this much shorter clip, Manotti draws on a question a friend asked him: How can one become a saint in these troubled times?  The question is delivered to me, so I do my best to answer.  I rely heavily on Boethius and Bishop Robert Barron.  OK, let’s call a spade a spade: I totally rip off Barron.  But in my defense, I think he’s right.

The Philosopher on Carmel Show: Inscrutable Philosophical Conversations

I invited my friend Manotti to try out vlogging (which auto-corrected to flogging, by the way).  Just in case no one reads blogs anymore I figured I’d try out making video for no one to watch.  This reminds me of something a colleague and I once discussed: since primary sources are better to assign in philosophy classes, but students don’t read what is assigned anyway, it is better that they not read the primary sources than not read the crappy textbook.  Whatever.

So here are three videos we made based on questions we each wrote.  It’s heavy philosophy, so buckle up.  In the end I am not sure we accomplished anything, but we had fun.  In the Socratic tradition these are “aporetic”, and perhaps that’s how it should be.  Either way, we’re two traditionalist dudes who are yakking just after Sunday Mass, and that means we’re a little formally dressed and wired on coffee and donuts.  Manotti didn’t want anyone to know, but he spilled water all over his shirt, which is why he’s wearing a jacket.

Question One: Which is primary – the Good, the True, or the Beautiful?

Manotti asks me about the three transcendentals, one of my favorite topics.  We have a very good conversation, and Manotti makes some valuable insights and then nearly commits the heresy of Sabellianism.  I think you’ll like this one.


Question Two: Is there room in our contemporary moral world for a Platonic notion of the Good?

When we decided to do this we both wrote down our questions, not letting the other know what they were.  It seems we had some similar themes in mind.  Here I ask Manotti about whether or not we can envision a morality based on something like the Platonic Good.  In other words, is there an overarching sense of the Good that we should be striving for?  We go deep on this one.  Very deep.  I bring up Augustine. Manotti brings in Leibniz.  Whenever Leibniz enters the room things get nutty.


Question Three: How and When Did the West Go Wrong in its Thinking, pt. 1

This was a fun conversation.  Manotti asks me about if and when the West went off course.  I propose a broad answer is with the Cartesian turn, but more acutely in post-enlightenment thinking.  We never finished, then decided to eat sauerkraut and keilbasa, and call it a day.  We’ll finish this one later.  IT WENT THAT WELL!


Lenten reflection on The Call of Levi: the weak spots

As I write this it is Saturday, March 4, 2017; the Saturday after Ash Wednesday.  The Gospel   Reading for today is the story of Levi the tax collector from Luke 5:27-32:  The Call of Levi, as it is sometimes called.  The narrative is a familiar one.  Jesus calls over the tax collector, Levi.  Like all tax collectors of this time they are a reviled lot, but Jesus says to him, “Follow me.”  What ensues after is left to the imagination, but we are told that, later, Jesus dines with him and other tax collectors.  The Pharisees then reproached Jesus for associating with sinners, after which Jesus responds with the oft cited retort, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.”  In common parlance this is the old problem of not “preaching to the converted.”

That narrative is certainly at play, but I think there is more going on here.  After my reading of this passage I engaged in an Ignatian meditation, the kind where one imaginatively places themselves in the scene.  The details of my meditation are unimportant, but I would like to share a few things.  At the banquet, Jesus, Levi, and the other tax collectors and sinners all share a meal, conversation, and laughter.  They are there, plainly, in their humanity.  They are there in their simplicity and even vulnerability.

I was then immediately reminded of something I had experienced or felt when I was  in my very early twenties on a few but poignant instances.  At that time I had drifted away from the Church, but looking back now I can see that I had had experiences for years that, I believe, can only be identified as spiritual, perhaps calling me back or even keeping me connected.  These particular experiences in my early twenties, in their seeming banality, all went something like this: I would be at the local mall having a bite in the dining area.  There would always be someone else eating alone as I was.  I couldn’t help but watch them, the way they were just there chowing down, in, what I can only describe, their simple humanity.  Some of these souls I saw were tough looking guys.  Others looked as lonely there and then as I imagined them as being through much of their life.  Some were beautiful or handsome.  Some very plain and a bit gawky.  But the thing that united these occurrences – and I stress there were only a handful – was the phenomenon I observed that I can only call “the tender act of satiation,” and the accompanying feeling I had each time, which was that I was witness to, and perhaps even enjoining, human weakness.  This is very hard to explain without sounding sentimental, but I truly believe there was more going on here than some projecting of my own sentimentality as a flaneur of regular people doing an ordinary act.  There was in all those episodes, as it were, something else speaking to me, and whatever that was, was brought out vividly through today’s Gospel reading.  The tender act of satiation, the feeding of a hunger, is in many respects the dissipating of an ongoing or repeated weakness.

Our hungers and fragility are universal.  We often attempt to cover them over with veneers of toughness, or we try to escape them in all kinds of unfortunate ways. But then, when we are just ourselves, simply and plainly, we remedy this hunger.

Sometimes at Mass or during holy hour I have a similar experience to those I had in the concessions area at the Mall.  I see ordinary people doing an ordinary thing, which is truly extraordinary.  They are feeding their spiritual hunger.

What was Levi hungry for?  I’d like to believe that when he dined with Jesus he needed and was given more than the food served.  And how much more rich and meaningful the laughter and companionship must have been that evening.  The Pharisees only saw a scoundrel in Levi; Christ saw someone vulnerable and lovable despite, or even because of, their sins.

My Favorite Catholic Podcasts

A little over a year ago I told the director of religious education at my parish that I believe there is a slow and tenuous mood shift in our culture that will be increasingly open to traditional values and religion, including Catholicism. Translation: Catholic stuff is getting popular again.  She thought I was crazy.  Maybe I was and still am. But in not a lot of time I have seen a rise in the quantity and quality of Catholic social media.  Catholic Twitter alone is impressive, but the stuff going on over at YouTube and the increasing number of podcasts is, I would humbly assert, enough to give my comment from a year ago at least some credibility.

I wanted to highlight some of my favorite stars of Catholic social media for fun and hopefully to get the word out on some really great stuff.  The notable Catholic YouTube channels will have to wait for another day. Now, I’d like to introduce a few good podcasts that have gotten me through difficult times, enlightened me, entertained me, and helped me clean my house.  (I love learning while mopping the floor.)   Some of these I’ve been listening to for a while, and others are either new or I only just discovered them and found them compelling enough to stick ’em in here.

Rather than rank or rate these, or otherwise insinuate some ordering, I decided to categorize the eight podcasts I either regularly listen to, or got into recently and enough to “binge listen” while making paella (because it takes a long time).  They’re all quite different, and they’re all, by my humble yet discerning taste, quite excellent.

The Bishop Barron Two: Sermons and The Word on Fire Show

Has any Catholic under the age of 60 not heard of Bishop Robert Barron? I was trying to explain Barron to a friend lately and I described him as Fulton Sheen mixed with St. Patrick, which is to say he works the popular media like Fulton Sheen did TV, but also works diligently to convert non-Catholics and bring back lapsed Catholics the way that St. Patrick did with the Druid pagans of Ireland.

The Sermons are essentially Barron, in his unmistakable style, delivering homilies on the weekly readings.  But here’s the thing: these come out several days (Wednesdays, I think) before Sunday.  What I love about Barron is that he doesn’t hold back on the depth of the readings, and nor is he shy about making references to the lives and works of theologians, philosophers, saints, blesseds, and even heretics from antiquity to the present.  But don’t take this as suggesting Barron is pedantic.  Hardly.  What I love about these sermons is that they exhibit Catholicism in all its glory and really get to the heart of the meaning in the readings.  There are some I have listened to several times.  As I write this, just before Ash Wednesday 2017, his series from the past few weeks on the Sermon the Mount is especially noteworthy.  What’s good, too, is that these clock in at a short ten to fifteen minutes.

The Word on Fire Show is Bishop Barron responding to questions by the Word on Fire content director, Brandon Vogt, about various and sundry bits from pop culture.  These podcasts are typically about twenty minutes or so, and discuss things like movies, holidays, important news and events relevant to Catholics, and any other sensational bit that might be noteworthy.   Barron really rocks these, and I have especially enjoyed when he takes on famous and outspoken atheists.  These come out once a week, and when Barron is away on retreat or working one of his many lectures are uploaded, and these are not to be missed either.

Catholicism on Campus:  The Crunch and Fr. Mike Schmitz Homilies

It’s easy to forget what it’s like to be a college student once you leave school and start working.  We forget how nearly everything is more intensely experienced.  I don’t know if this is because of the age we typically are when in college, or more simply that the manner in which so much concentrated information is given to us, and that we, in turn, respond in kind with either intense attraction or repulsion to our studies.  Even when college kids are indifferent they are intensely indifferent.  But I think we can learn a lot from, and be inspired by, college students because of this.  Frankly, I miss being a college student, even though I am a professor and am around college students all the time.  I miss being so into things that I want to talk about them all the time.  OK, well, I still am that way, but it’s a heck of a lot harder to find peers that want to, or even can, do that.  And that’s what makes college students smart.

The Crunch is a podcast by two college students, Ethan and Pat, from Kansas State and Franciscan University at Steubenville, respectively.  They banter, they joke, they get personal, and they deliver some great Catholic content.  What I love most about these guys  is that they’re really into their faith, they love learning more about it, and they are really quite insightful.  One of the things I most enjoy about their discussions is they never fail to bring theology — or whatever it is they may be talking about — and bring it into their own worlds, into the context of college life.  And you know, college life with all its drama and weirdness is, in the end, really not that different from what any of us face over the age of 30.  I think, too, these guys aren’t afraid to try things and speak about them honestly, such as Gaitley’s 33 Days to Morning Glory.  So fun stuff!  Go check them out.  Episodes are uploaded weekly, on Sundays, I believe.

Man, I love Fr. Mike Schmitz.  If he was my priest when I was a late teen I may very well have discerned and entered seminary.  I came upon his podcast quite by accident during a very tumultuous time in my life.  Before then I knew next to nothing about him, but I started listening to his homilies from the Newman Center at University of Minnesota, Duluth and they just, well, spoke to me. It was using the Gospels and applying them to life problems.  And then I noticed these would sometimes run in themes, like “heroic confidence or “it’s nothing personal”.  It didn’t take me long to notice that he was speaking to college students, but that didn’t matter at all.  The content of our problems may differ a bit, but the structure and the solutions are remarkably similar.  And Fr. Mike has to be one of the most warm and approachable priests working in the new media.  Each homily is about 15 to 20 minutes, and are typically uploaded weekly on Monday or Tuesday.  In the summer they taper off.

Everyday Catholicism: The Catholic Hipster and Catching Foxes

If the TV show Thirtysomething came back as a Catholic podcast it might very well be either of these two very cool podcasts that currently I know little about because I only recently discovered them.  But how about this: you know those young families that you see at Mass, where the mom and dad look kind of hip, but frazzled enough that you can’t quite imagine they can rock an interesting conversation, but then you find out they are into craft beer, indie rock, and esoteric saints from the 9th century?  Well that’s how I imagine the folks that do these podcasts.

The Catholic Hipster is Tommy Tighe and Sarah Vabulas, who converse about adulting from a Catholic perspective.  Occasionally they have guests from the new media.  The conversation is light and engaging and offers intelligent perspectives on being a responsible adult in the current culture from a Catholic perspective.  Tommy and Sarah have a great dynamic that is immensely listenable.

So I should have found out about Catching Foxes a while ago.  Not sure how I missed it, but whatevs, what’s done is done, and I have a lot of catching up to do with these fun guys.  Catching Foxes is a duo, Gomer and Luke, who do interviews and discuss all the weird, wild stuff in popular culture through a Catholic lens.  I’m only three episodes in, but I really like what these guys are doing and how they are doing it.  Apparently, a lot of listeners agree!  They don’t hold back on the, a hem, “colorful language”, so best not to listen around yer children folk.

Theonerding: Catholic Stuff You Should Know and Pints With Aquinas

I had a student a few years ago who was going to convert to Catholicism, and my suspicion was that it was for our philosophy and theology, much like that Seinfeld bit where a dentist wanted to convert to Judaism for the jokes.  Our intellectual tradition is second to none in the world, and has produced many of the best thinkers from antiquity to the present.  The four priests that make up Catholic Stuff You Should Know and Matt Fradd in Pints With Aquinas run with this.

Catholic Stuff You Should Know is one of the first Catholic podcasts I subscribed to, and I’ve truly gotten a lot from listening to them.  In fact, they spurred my interest in Hans Urs Von Balthasar!  But appropriate to their name, CSYSK covers all the little bits of Catholic and priestly life that you may have wondered about but were afraid to ask, covering the simple question of priestly vestments, to the controversial matter of homosexuality.  Whatever it is they cover, it is with scholarly aplomb, precision, thoroughness, and levity.  They are currently four priests, Fr. Nathan Goebel, Fr. John Nepil, Fr. Michael O’Loughlin, and Fr. Mike Rapp, from various parishes around the Denver area.  In most cases their podcasts are any two of them at a time, and it always seems they have a great chemistry together.

Pints With Aquinas is Matt Fradd’s podcast, and he does an excellent job introducing and breaking down the main arguments from St. Thomas Aquinas, usually from the Summa.  No easy task! Plus, he does with humor and levity! I love Aquinas, and don’t mind spending an evening reading him, but I can see how, despite his importance in Church teaching, approaching him is a bit daunting.  However, Fradd’s approach is simple yet effective: take one of Thomas’ questions of interest and go through the objections and response slowly and methodically.  Sometimes, Fradd will take a question or problem from our own time and see where it might be in the Summa, but the method is the same.  Occasionally, Fradd brings on some guests, and also occasionally he will explore a more generally theme not necessarily related to Thomas.  But this one is well worth checking out.

Reflections on Some Dimensions of Adoration, Part 1 of 2

Last year in my Comparative Religions class while on the topic of Christianity I mentioned adoration in the context of Catholic practices.  A young student in the front looked puzzled and exclaimed, “I’m Catholic.  I’ve been a Catholic all of my life and I have never heard of this.”  I was not the least bit surprised.  Her story is mine, too.  A cradle Catholic surrounded largely by pre-conciliar family members we practiced an old-school style of our faith, which entailed the family matriarchs keeping everyone on point the best they could.  My grandmother and my great aunts were the ones who went frequently to Mass, who sat quietly in the corner chair praying the rosary, who would slip off in the evening to do who-knows-what at the parish.  Perhaps they did a holy hour, but I can’t be sure, as that was never mentioned.  And that I, like my student, never heard of adoration or a holy hour throughout adolescence and into young adulthood suggests that my other Catholic friends didn’t know much about it either.  Granted, the parish where I grew up was very small and I still don’t know if there was an adoration chapel anywhere nearby.  And while my mom took me to Mass I was not, despite having attended “Catholic Camp” as a kid, very well catechized.  So, to briefly segue, I don’t think that my story is all that unique for my generation, hence neither do I think that men and women of my generation had a strong enough engagement in their parish and Catholic life generally to really impart a substantial Catholicism to their children to keep them in the Church.  There is an obvious generation gap in my current parish consisting of teens through early thirty-somethings.  I don’t think this is unique.  But that is all for another discussion, and one, too, that Bishop Robert Barron has covered very well.

Adoration: Time spent before the Blessed Sacrament

An hour spent in adoration is a devotion par excellence.  I will not spend time explaining the roots of this practice, nor anything approximating a detailed description thereof.  For those interested you can read more about it here.  My aim is mostly to discuss, extemporaneously and personally, the value of this devotion and what I see as several dimensions thereof.

If you are fortunate to live near an adoration chapel with either perpetual (around the clock) or, like the one near me, hours from morning to evening, I recommend working this into a routine.  On the one hand it is a very good complement to the Holy Mass.  But it is also something that works very well in keeping an active and consistent spiritual life.  In my last blog on creating a rule of life I explain this. ( The Value and Formation of ‘A Rule of Life’)

Dimensions and reflections on the act of adoration.

Trying to explain the practice of adoration to the uninitiated is often, I have found, met with puzzlement. Not long ago I was chatting with a friend who was raised in a Presbyterian family.  He asked me what the building was that sits in front of the school that is connected to my parish.  “It’s an adoration chapel.”  “What’s that?” he replied.  I described it and the practice of adoring and holy hour. “So you sit and look at bread?”  Reduced to its simplest form it may seem so, but then so too can many the most meaningful activities of life appear absurd when leveled out to their simplest elements and acts.  Looking at a Monet is, we should all agree, much more than looking at fabric smeared with paint, and soccer is more than kicking a ball.  Unfortunately, however, ignoring the metaphysical while focusing on the material has become quite a theme in our culture, most affecting those areas of life we have hitherto identified as the sacred.  But equally troubling is what seems to be the infection of this leveling attitude among those ostensibly practicing their faith.  This is what Bishop Robert Barron meant in part by a “beige Catholic”: one who goes through the motions but is not fully engaged in the transcendent or spiritual, or perhaps more precisely, one who does not attempt to engage fully.

All that being said, I offer below reflections on some core dimensions of adoration: the aesthetic, solitude in communion, the meditative, and the active and contemplative.

The aesthetic dimension

Contra to Platonism proper, some forms of Eastern or New Age spiritualism, and debased Christianity, Catholic Christianity is an incarnate spirituality, which is to say human, creaturely experience is embodied as much as it is transcendent.  Material creation is good and abounds with God’s presence in its dynamism, beauty, awe and wonder, grandeur, sweetness, sublimity, and even the fearsome.  It is, moreover, an entry into the sacred.  In fact, it may be more correct to say, along with the Jesuits, that God is in all things.  And yet we can, at the same time, make the claim that there are spaces and places separated in intent and presence that we identify as sacred. The sacred space is designated as such by act of consecration, designation, or through a supernatural act of being present.  The cathedral, basilica, church, and chapel hold all three of these inasmuch as they are designated places of holiness, consecrated by a vicar of Christ, and hold the true presence of our Lord in the Eucharist within the tabernacle or monstrance.  Christian architecture is designed around this presence holding, as it does, the central position.  An encounter with the sacred is cognizant of these designations in their richness in splendor.  To this extent, the aesthetic encounter of the sacred is an exchange: it is receiving through an act of openness and reverence; one gives oneself over to receive what is offered.  Immanuel Kant, in his Critique of Judgment suggests something similar in that the aesthetic is both objective and subjective, participating in both the imaginative and the understanding.

There is something different about entering the adoration chapel that moves one from the secular and into the sacred.  The monstrance, holding the Blessed Sacrament, organizes the entire space as the center of a circle organizes all points around it.  We behave thusly when entering.  We further organize all other objects, art, and sacramentals present in the chapel around the radiant monstrance.  The more sensitive we are in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, the keen our understanding of real presence, the more we participate in the radiance extended outward.

Is this to suggest that every visit to adoration, every encounter with the Blessed Sacrament, will be an intense spiritual and aesthetic experience?  No, and for reasons both obvious and metaphysical.  Without going into the latter, which relates to our ontological composition as both material individuality and spiritual personality, we simply are often swayed by psycho-physical matters such as disposition, mood, and well-being.  Nevertheless, we might consider our Lord as the constant while we are the variable, open as we are, to influence.

Setting aside the more philosophical ruminations, I’d like to end this section with a few remarks about beauty.  Spending time in adoration is a beautiful experience and an experience of beauty.  I have never come away from spending time in adoration feeling less than edified.  There are many reasons for this, the most important of which I will hit upon in the discussion of the other dimensions to follow.  Further, this is not to suggest that our own edification is the function of adoration.  But yet I think it quite correct to say that our love and desire directed toward our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament becomes a momentarily filled intention, which is but one aspect of the encounter with beauty.  But even more basic is the very space that is the chapel itself.  Again, as a religion of incarnation we take beauty in art and architecture to be a very important element of our faith.  I always found the simple beauty of the chapel I visit to be quite edifying in its own right.  I often think of that Hemingway story, A Clean, Well-Lighted Place, where the protagonist finds respite and meaning in his frequent visits to a humble but clean and well lit cafe.  Again, this speaks to our need for the sacred in our life; a place separated from the secular and the mundane.

This ends Part I.  In Part II I will continue the discussion through exploring the remaining dimension I mentioned above.  I predict these will augment and clarify some of ideas mentioned in the section above.

The Value and Formation of ‘A Rule of Life’

Introduction and background

When I first began spiritual direction I complained to my director that my spiritual life was all over the place.  There seemed to be no focus, little consistency, and I did not really feel as if I was growing as I should.  The first thing he asked me is whether or not I had a “rule of life”.  I was familiar with this idea, but assumed it was something only those in religious life really attended to and abided by, and I further associated with the rather lengthy and rigorous Rule of St. Benedict.  He then offered me some literature to get started and charged me with creating my own rule that we would then examine during our next meeting.  Since that time I have done my best to follow my rule of life, and it has become part of the structure of my life.  More importantly, it has remedied those matters for which it was prescribed by my director: while I am not perfectly consistent or always focused, my rule has served well as a frame around which I structure my life.

A spiritual or religious rule of life is different from, say, a daily routine such as what you may typically do otherwise in the day such as having coffee every morning, reading the paper, checking email and so on.  It has more in common with a self-imposed exercise or dietary regimen in that it is prescribed with goals in mind.  And yet it can often become habitual and so becomes part of a virtuous life.  It also shares with the cultivation of virtue the need for frequent reflection and growth, as will be discussed below.

Common elements

While there is no exhaustive list of the elements contained in a rule of life there are some practices that must obtain for Catholics and some that are simply good to include.  And you may also consider forming your list based upon whatever charism or order you may be drawn to, such as that of the Franciscans, Carmelites, Dominicans, or Jesuits. To do so you want to read about the founder of an order, and find that order’s rule online or in book form.

For the non-Catholic (and a rule of life with the goal of spiritual development is, by my estimation, a very good thing, and one not exclusive to Catholics) this list can easily be amended accordingly.

Since these elements are fairly self-evident I will offer a few lines of explanation only.

  • Mass – Regular attendance at least once a week, but if you really want to boost your spiritual life incorporate a few more during the week with the goal of daily attendance if possible.
  • Prayer – Daily prayer is essential. Try to incorporate prayer several times a day beginning with morning prayer. If you a breviary, great! Use it! Also experiment with different modes of prayer such as lectio divina, meditation, and contemplation.  Don’t forget to offer prayers of gratitude and intention for others!
  • Devotions – Of these Eucharistic Adoration is powerful and effective, as is the Rosary.
  • Reconciliation – Confession not only participates in God’s mercy, but it is also vital for the sanctification of self, moral growth, virtue, and spiritual growth.
  • Fasting and abstinence – These needn’t be practiced only during Lent. Perhaps you might try one Friday a month or every Friday (or any day) fasting from meat for a day, abstaining from alcohol or tobacco for a period, or take a break from whatever habits or practices may be worthwhile denying yourself of for a spell.
  • Reading and intellectual growth – I find this are particularly appealing and useful, and deserving of a bit more discussion.  I find three main categories of reading: scriptural, spiritual, and theological:
    • Scripture reading – Quotes from the saints about reading scripture are legion, but St. Jerome expressed its importance most pithily: “Ignorance of Scripture is Ignorance of Christ.”  While the comedian Jim Gaffigan has a point that we all read the Cliff Notes to scripture during Mass it is good to engage in more sustained readings on one’s own or with a group.  If you’re not a seasoned reader of Scripture (I am not) perhaps you might just start with what piques your interest and move outward.  The Gospels are a great place to start.
    • Spiritual reading – My spiritual director describes spiritual reading as light, exemplary, and motivational, and uses the example of reading about the lives of the saints.  But this mode of reading may also include short and simple treatises or directives on a topic.  Many of Fr. Michael Gaitley’s writings are good examples of this, as are those of Matthew Kelley.  C.S. Lewis comes to mind as well.
    • Theology – This is an expansive category and veers into Scripture reading and spiritual reading.  It is also where we grow in our understanding and knowledge of the faith.  As such it deserves its own discussion, but here are only a few examples: catechetical writings, church history, the life of Christ, the writings of saints, explorations of sacraments, Catholic philosophy, mystical writings, Biblical exegesis, ethics and virtue.
  • Almsgiving and service – We are a religion of faith and works. Are you helping your parish? Do you volunteer? Do you consider the needy?  I don’t find charity or charitable works to be little nicety or add-on; they are vital to spiritual growth and the engagement within the mystical body of Christ.
  • Retreats (and conferences) – These are like spiritual adrenalin injections.  Retreats can be expensive and often difficult to arrange around work and family.  If you can’t do one, try a home retreat: Fr. Michael Gaitley has written several, and I can personally attest to his Consoling the Heart of Jesus, which is inspired by Ignatian retreats.  Also, many diocese have conferences, and some parishes will bring is speakers and do workshops.  Avail yourself of these.
  • Spiritual direction – If you are serious about growing in your spiritual life a spiritual director seems to be a good move.  Most diocese have lists of willing directors.  Do a little research to see if this is right for you.

How I structured my rule

I arranged my rule as practices I would engage in daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly.  Below is a sketch based on my own.

Daily practices: Prayer, including morning prayer, evening prayer, and an Examen prayer.

Weekly practices: Sunday Mass, and at least two other Masses during the week, attending holy days of obligation; at least three Rosary recitations; at least one holy hour with attempts at further visits to my local adoration chapel; at least one weekly lectio divina.

Monthly practices: Reconciliation at least once a month; one session of spiritual direction; at least one work of service to the needy or volunteering in some other capacity.

Yearly practices: At least one retreat, either at home or at a retreat house; at least one pilgrimage to a holy place such as a shrine; special activities during Lent and Christmas such as a reading of the Gospels, beyond what is usually practiced and emphasized during these seasons.

A special note on reading: I am an avid reader so I didn’t feel the need to include reading in my rule.  However, including reading specified by kind, along with goals, is probably a good idea.

This seems fairly modest and, admittedly, it is, but my spiritual director found it best to start modestly and allow room for growth rather than scaling back or otherwise setting the stage for failure.  Remember, the goal is growth, not heroic achievement.  As St. Therese de Lisieux advises for us little souls: small things with great love.

Cautions and suggestions

  • Know thyself. Reflect on where you are in your spiritual life, what you need, what you are capable of, and what are your obligations to work and family, which are also part of your spiritual life.  Your rule as an instrument of growth should not be so burdensome that it becomes a dreaded struggle.  Work it into your life.
  • Incorporate intellectual growth, and set goals accordingly.  In what areas of our faith are you in need of exploring? We have a wonderfully rich religion that should really be explored as fully as possible, so if you need to better understand something, hop to it.
  • Your rule should have rigor, but not too much.  Again, it should strike a balance as between too weak or easy and overly burdensome and impossible to achieve. Challenge yourself, but not at the risk of burning out and giving up. There is always room for growth.
  • Hence, it is an ongoing practice with flexibility. As you grow, your rule should grow. As your life might change, your rule may need to adapt.  If you find yourself with more time on your hands, perhaps add a practice.  If your schedule becomes tighter, adapt your rule accordingly.
  • Don’t beat yourself up if you do not follow it perfectly.  Things may come up through no fault of your own that compromise your daily or weekly practices, and that’s OK. If it’s ongoing, honestly reflect on this.  Were you just being lazy, or does the rule need to be tweaked?
  • It’s ultimately about spiritual growth and cultivating virtue, as well as becoming closer to God.  The rule is instrumental and not just for its own sake.  Reflect on this and what this means.
  • As you grow, so should your rule.  This deserves to be stated again!

Get started!

If this seems like something you want to try, spend some time thinking about your rule.  Write down ideas and reflect on those, pray on those.  Write down your rule.  You may even want to sign it as if it is a contract between you and God.  Then, give it a go!