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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2021-04-19 01:20:05 -07:00
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writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/discernment.md
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@ -7,32 +7,18 @@ The story of Dee leaving seminary
* [o] Act 1
* [o] Dee studying, head overfull
* [o] Prayer
* [o] Prayer - Aquinas' student's prayer
* [o] A late night walk and conversation with God
* [o] Decides to leave
* [o] Act 2
* [o] Confesses
* [o] Prayer
* [o] Prayer - Psalm 130
* [o] Mentions leaving to advisor, Father Borenson is not surprised
* [o] Conversation to try and figure out why without asking straight out
* [ ] Act 3
* [ ] Has to leave, spends one last day on campus
* [ ] Prayer
* [ ] With the same numbness, applies for MPsych
## Prayers
Maybe swap Student's Prayer and Prayer to St Kateri?
* Student's Prayer
* De Profundis
* Prayer to St Kateri Tekakwitha:
St. Kateri Tekakwitha, favored child and Lily of the Mohawks, I come to seek your intercession in my present need: (mention it). I admire the virtues which adorned your soul: love of God and neighbor, humility, obedience, patience, purity and the spirit of sacrifice. Help me to imitate your example in my state of life. Through the goodness and mercy of God, Who has blessed you with so many graces which led you to the true faith and to a high degree of holiness, pray to God for me and help me.
Obtain for me a very fervent devotion to the Holy Eucharist so that I may love Holy Mass as you did and receive Holy Communion as often as I can. Teach me also to be devoted to my crucified Savior as you were, that I may cheerfully bear my daily crosses for love of Him Who suffered so much for love of me. Most of all, I beg you to pray for me that I may avoid sin, lead a holy life and save my soul.
Amen.
* [o] Act 3
* [o] Has to leave, spends one last day on campus
* [o] Prayer - Prayer to St Kateri Tekakwitha
* [o] Discussion with Father Borenson
## Story
@ -40,9 +26,9 @@ Dee cupped his fingers over the bridge of his muzzle and pulled down gently whil
Not for the first time, the coyote wished that he could simply disappear within the written word. Wished that he could relinquish the very idea of physical sensation and surround himself in successive layers of scripture, commentaries, notes. Wished, most of all, that he could wrap himself in the warmth of his faith.
If, at the end of time, faith and hope are to fade, there would be a final sense of completion, but until now, his faith was a comfort.
If, at the end of time, faith and hope are to fade, there would be a final sense of completion, but until then, his faith was a comfort.
Dee shook his head to try to clear the clinging rumination, closing the book of Pauline commentaries and the notebook that he'd been attacking with a highlighter and pen. "Too much Corinthians," he mumbled, then laughed to himself.
Dee shook his head to try to clear the clinging rumination, closing the book of Corinthian commentaries and the notebook that he'd been attacking with a highlighter and pen.
Standing from his rickety chair, he stretched toward the ceiling, claws brushing up against the off-white-towards-gray paint momentarily before he leaned to the side to stretch.
@ -76,7 +62,7 @@ Dee, the awkward coyote. Dee, who forgot to smile sometimes, who always seemed t
*...dissipate the darkness which covers me, that of sin and ignorance. Grant me a penetrating mind to understand...*
Was that not why he was here, wasn't it? Here at a seminary? To study and learn? To glean more from the word of God? To live in an ever more Christlike fashion? To help the downtrodden and the poor?
Was that not why he was here? Here at a seminary? To study and learn? To glean more from the word of God? To live in an ever more Christlike fashion? To help the downtrodden and the poor?
Could he not best learn how to do so here? Was that not why he was here?
@ -90,8 +76,6 @@ His head was too full. Too full of words and feelings that language failed to ex
*If you still dwell within my heart,* he asked. *Where are these feelings coming from? What is this disillusionment pointing to?*
<!-- walks to Kateri statue -->
God spoke to him, then. As ever, His voice was not in words, but woven into the world around him. A breeze came up from Stump lake, bearing with it the sent of water, of rotting vegetation, and overlaid atop it, a sweetness he could not place. It was floral, yes, but also fruity, so sweet as to make his mouth water.
He bristled his whiskers, and breathed in deeply, his eyes scanning trees lit by the occasional yellow sulfur lamp, stark battlements against the night sky. God spoke to him in the way his eyes perceived the night to fade from a blue-tinged gray at the tree-line up to the star-stained black above him. He spoke in the feeling of the short blades of grass poking up through the bristly fur of his tail, and He spoke in the citrus tang of a confession forming in Dee's mouth.
@ -108,11 +92,11 @@ Other than the soft sounds of breathing and the barest hint of vulpine beneath t
"You know that doubt is not a sin, my child."
"I do, but my doubt is in my vocation."
"I guess, but my doubt is in my vocation."
"I see. Do you doubt in our Lord Jesus Christ?"
"No, nor do I doubt in God the Father or the Holy Spirit, nor the Mother of God. I find myself doubting, uh...I find myself doubting the church and my role in it."
"No, no. Just...I find myself doubting, uh...I find myself doubting my role in the church."
"What about the church do you doubt, if your faith is solid?"
@ -120,7 +104,7 @@ Other than the soft sounds of breathing and the barest hint of vulpine beneath t
There was a quiet sigh from the other side of the screen.
"I suppose my sin is that I am doubting my ability to serve God and continue on in my role here."
"I guess my sin is that I am doubting my ability to actually serve God like I'm supposed to."
"I see."
@ -130,11 +114,11 @@ There was a pause, and then, "Alright, I will ask you to say three Our Fathers f
Dee splayed his ears, chagrined, and bowed his head. "Thank you, Father. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins..."
With the final *go in peace* still ringing in his ears, with the tips of his fingers still humming from crossing himself, with the hot flush of embarrassment still pulling at his cheeks, Dee stepped from the confessional and blinked rapidly. He took two quick, grounding breaths, and then walked from the abbey.
With the final *go in peace* still ringing in his ears, with the tips of his fingers still humming from crossing himself, with the hot flush of embarrassment still pulling at his cheeks, Dee stepped from the confessional and blinked in the sudden light and space. He took two quick, grounding breaths, and then walked from the chapel.
*I do not want to be here.*
Outside Dee walked slowly to one of the concrete blocks that served as benches and sat, resting his face in his paws. If he could not see the stars, if he had only concrete and paving stones before him, then if he wanted to pray, he had to block out his sight. It was all too much. He would find himself tracing the paving stones, or the catenary arc of the contemporary entrance to St. John's.
Outside Dee walked slowly to one of the concrete blocks that served as benches and sat, resting his face in his paws. If he could not see the stars, if he had only concrete and paving stones before him, then if he wanted to pray, he had to block out his sight. It was all too much. He would find himself tracing the paving stones or the catenary arc of the contemporary entrance to St. Francis Abbey if he left them open.
*Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let yours ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications...*
<!-- Continue, expand with him praying as he thinks -->
@ -211,7 +195,7 @@ Dee smiled through his shame.
-----
As promised, Dee was not run out of the campus in the dark of night. He was given the remainder of the month to wrap up his affairs and attend to the task of packing his meager belongings in order to move out of his room.
As promised, Dee was not run out of the campus in the dark of night. He was given the remainder of the month to wrap up his affairs and attend to the task of packing his meager belongings in order to move out of his room and bus back to Idaho, to Sawtooth. To home.
It was more than enough. His stuff was packed into two file boxes within an hour. After all, all of the furniture in the room belonged to the school. What had he besides clothes and books? Clothes, books, and his rosary.
@ -221,7 +205,76 @@ He knew not what drew him to begin this litany of prayer. He strove to pray the
With his possessions packed away, Dee had little to do beyond pray and spend as much time in the library as he could before it would no longer be available to him.
"Technically," Borenson had confided. "You shouldn't have access to anything but the refectory, the chapel, and your room for the remainder of your time, but I don't think anyone will begrudge you access to your beloved books."
"Technically," Borenson had confided. "You shouldn't have access to anything but the refectory, the chapel, and your room for the remainder of your time on campus, but I don't think anyone will begrudge you access to your beloved books."
<!-- Meets Borenson at statue, discusses discernment and what Dee will do next -->
<!-- discuss discernment somewhere in here; in the past, would be driven out in secrecy, but now it's more a conversation between candidate and school, not told beforehand to ensure there's still some level of devotion -->
The Saint Bernard was waiting for him, sitting on the stone and cement bench by the statue of St Kateri Tekakwitha. The dog had rested his shoulders on his knees and clasped his hands, and was looking down between his feet through the opening this has created. Or, well, not looking. Father Borenson was not looking at anything. He had the absent expression of thought or prayer.
Dee had been making a round of all his favorite spots on this, his last day, and his final stop was here. A statue, a stone bench, a lake. Trees and heavy air.
He stood awkwardly by the statue, unsure of what to do with his advisor --- his old advisor --- present. This had always been a place of solitary engagement for him. Were it anyone else, he would have left and aimed to come back a little later. He still had an hour before he needed to head to the bus station.
"Afternoon, Mr. Kimana."
"Father. Sorry if I disturbed you. I can come back later."
The dog shook his head and leaned back against the bench, patting the spot next to him. "I was waiting for you, actually. I was hoping I'd catch you before you left."
After a moment's hesitation, Dee accepted the invitation and sat down, paws resting in his lap. Conversing sitting side by side like this was a mixed blessing. He didn't feel obligated to maintain eye contact, which was always a relief, but he was also left with the disconcerting feeling that there was a place he *ought* to be looking, that it ought to be at what whoever he was speaking with was looking at.
*No wonder I wasn't not cut out for this.*
Borenson was the first to break the silence. "Dee, do you know what discernment is?"
"I'm assuming you mean in regards to figuring out one's calling?"
"Mmhm. Discerning whether you're heading toward married life, ministry, hermitage, whatever." He shook his head and laughed. "Sorry, this is one of those last-day conversations, and it's kind of difficult."
Dee nodded numbly. This was already wildly outside of his normal interactions with Borenson. Less academic, more informal, emotional.
"We don't really tell our students because we want you to come in feeling devoted, but there's a whole set of guidelines already in place behind the scenes to deal with this. Has been for centuries, really. It used to be, you'd be whisked away before you had the chance to even say goodbye. We'd box up your stuff and send it to you. It was a different church back then.
"Now, we see it more like a process. Discernment is something that takes place over time. You're in your twenties, you're not going to have it all figured out, much as you might sometimes imagine."
Dee frowned. *St. Kateri Tekakwitha,* he prayed silently. *Favored child and Lily of the Mohawks, I come to seek your intercession in my present need. I don't know what to do...*
"It's a little clumsy, but the analogy I always use is to think of these first few years of your degree like dating. You and the Church --- the Church as an institution, not just a faith --- like each other, and want to maybe get closer, but you're going to try things on for size for a bit. See how it works out."
Outwardly, the coyote nodded. "That makes sense. It's not a divorce, just a break-up before it gets serious."
Inwardly, Dee was doing his best to let go. Let go of this place. Let go of his study. Let go of the idea of what life would be like that he had built up to over so long a time. *I admire the virtues which adorned your soul: love of God and neighbor, humility, obedience, patience, purity and the spirit of sacrifice. Help me to imitate your example in my state of life.*
"Right," the Saint Bernard nodded. "Just turns out you and the Church get along better as friends than in...well, the metaphor breaks down somewhat here, but you can see how ordination is rather like marriage."
He smiled weakly. "Yeah."
"All this is to say that I think you're doing the right thing, because no one wants a bitter priest. Some folks might think ill of you, but don't worry about them. You've got your path ahead of you still."
*Through the goodness and mercy of God, Who has blessed you with so many graces which led you to the true faith and to a high degree of holiness, pray to God for me and help me.*
Dee stared at the statue of the coyote. He knew that if he were to try and look at Father Borenson, to engage with this conversation any more directly, he would not be able to keep from crying.
"I'll leave you be, Dee, but before I do, I'm curious. What will you do after this?"
He worked on mastering the lump of emotion swelling in his chest before replying. "I'm going to go home, stay with my parents. Work on the farm for a bit. Then, um..." He swallowed drily in an attempt to sound less hoarse. "Then I think I'm going to transfer to University of Idaho and get my masters in social work."
Borenson perked up, his tail thumping against the concrete and stone of the bench. "A therapist, hmm?"
"Yeah. I really do want to do direct good, I just...well, perhaps a different kind."
"Of course," the dog laughed. "I can certainly see you excelling at that."
Dee smiled gratefully.
Standing up and brushing off his slacks, Borenson offered Dee his paw. It dwarfed the coyote's, surrounding it in soft pads and softer fur. It made him feel uncouth, coarse, common.
"Mr. Kimana, it's been a pleasure."
Dee stood as well and turned the helping paw into a shake. "Thank you, Father."
"I wish you the best of luck. You're always welcome to come visit." The dog relinquished his grip, turned to the statue, crossed himself, and walked back toward campus.
Alone again, Dee turned from the statue and stared out over the lake. One final time, he asked if he was doing the right thing, and one final time, God spoke to him in the gentle lapping of the water at the shore, in the quiet hum of a bee in flight, in the sweet taste of surety in his mouth.
He crossed himself before the statue of Kateri Tekakwitha, brushed his fingertips over her stone paws, and then stretched.
It was a long trip home.