Take a Pilgrimage...Into Your Past

In the last blog post, I wrote about the friendship between Catherine Doherty and Dorothy Day.  They prayed for one another and visited on occasion, but the “maintenance” of their friendship took place in the letters they exchanged throughout the years.

Below is an excerpt of a letter from Catherine to Dorothy.  In it Catherine describes a beautiful way of praying.  Catherine was known for bringing Russian Orthodox traditions to the west and “translating” them for Catholics in North America, who she felt were spiritually hungry but lacking in the deep spiritual practices she had experienced growing up in Russia.  In the passage below, Catherine writes about taking “pilgrimages” into her past and visiting the “shrines” she found there:  the graces, gifts, sorrows and joys that she had experienced throughout her life.  In her book Poustinia, Catherine wrote that Russians were serious about pilgrimage – they traipsed all over the huge country – pilgrimage was a way of life.  But even the most seasoned religious traveler discovered that in the end, to be a pilgrim means to journey within.

I invite you to reflect on Catherine’s words and consider praying this way, too.  Which shrines of your past should be revisited – what joys and sorrows?  Can you look back and recognize God’s presence in your life in the people, places and events that shaped you? 

“It has been now over a month that a great desire to write to you has come to my heart.  I have been making, as you know, ‘pilgrimages’ into my distant and not so distant yesterdays, stopping now here, now there, to render thanks to the Lord of Life, for this special grace or that, for this wonderful gift or sorrow and for that infinite moment of joy.  Short as my life is, as any human life is, there are, strange to say, many a shrine in it before which, as is the custom of my people, I can bow low from the waist, touching the earth with my hands, and singing alleluias in my heart for each….  Amongst the memories of my yesterdays is a shrine that I reached into today, at which, in a manner of speaking, I still worship.  Long ago and far away I arose in search of the Lord….  [O]ut of nowhere, you came, and hand in hand, we walked together.”

You can read the full text of Catherine’s letter to Dorothy in an article about the friendship between Catherine and Dorothy, written by Fr. Bob Wild, the postulator for Catherine’s cause for canonization. 

Fr. Wild has also written a book assembling the letters of Catherine and Dorothy entitled “Comrades Stumbling Along:  The Friendship of Catherine de Hueck Doherty and Dorothy Day as Revealed Through Their Letters.”

Catherine Doherty and Dorothy Day, 1957

Catherine Doherty and Dorothy Day, 1957


The Cross in the Poustinia

Among Servant of God Catherine Doherty’s greatest legacies is her re-invention or re-imagination of the Russian custom of “poustinia.”  A poustinik, or one who was called to enter into a poustinia, was someone who heard the call of God and retreated into the Russian forest to live a life of solitude and prayer in a small, sparsely furnished cabin (his “poustinia”).  The poustinik would live in this cabin for the rest of his life, or until God called him out to speak the word he had learned in his poustinia.  The word was not the result of study or intelligence.  It was a prophetic word, the crystallized result of many, many hours of solitude.

In her spiritual masterpiece, Poustinia, Catherine describes this sparse cabin – the place where the poustinik would endure hours of loneliness and quiet, where he in some mystical way held all of humanity with him, where he encountered God in the silence:

The poustinia must be stark in its simplicity and poverty.  It must contain a table and a chair.  On the table there must be a bible.  There should also be a pencil and some paper.  In one corner are a basin and pitcher for washing up.  The bed, if bed there be, should be a cot with wooden slats instead of a mattress, a couple of blankets or quilts and a pillow if absolutely necessary….  Drinking water, a loaf of bread…the makings for tea and coffee.  Prominent in the poustinia is a cross without a corpus, about six feet by three feet, which is nailed to the wall, and an icon of Our Lady in the eastern corner with a vigil light in front of it.  The cross without a corpus is a symbol of one’s own crucifixion on it, for those of us who love Christ passionately want to be crucified with him so as to know the joy of his resurrection.

The most striking aspect of this description (besides the lack of mattress!) is the life-sized cross that dominated the small poustinia.  Catherine repeats the words of a Russian proverb:  “The cross of Jesus has two sides.”  One side is for Jesus.  And the other side, of course, is for each one of us.

The life of the poustinik may seem unattainable and even unreal to most of us.  But according to Catherine, we are all called to be poustiniks (more on this later!).  For now, it is enough to ponder – have you seen the cross on the wall of your own poustinia?  Do you turn away from it, or do you meditate on it?  Are you willing to suffer on your side of the cross, so that you may love him passionately, and know the joy of his resurrection?

The Hope of the World by William Kurelek depicts a poustinia on the grounds of Madonna House, Combermere, Canada,

The Hope of the World by William Kurelek depicts a poustinia on the grounds of Madonna House, Combermere, Canada,


Praying Unadorned

One of my biblical school students, Patti Cacciabaudo, recently caught my attention with one of her homework answers.  She was reflecting on a powerful moment in the Book of Esther – a moment when Esther offers a heartfelt prayer for courage before going before the pagan king to plead for the lives of her people.  Esther is a faithful Jew – who also happens to be the queen! 

Before offering this prayer – which she knows may well be the last prayer of her life – Esther is feeling an anxiety that the text describes as “deadly.”  She flees to the Lord – but before opening her mouth, she very deliberately prepares herself for prayer.  Queen Esther exchanges her “splendid apparel” for the clothing of a mourner.  She foregoes perfume for ashes.  “She utterly humbled her body; every part that she loved to adorn she covered with her tangled hair” (14:2). 

Patti’s insight was this:  Isn’t this the attitude we should all take into prayer?  Esther was a queen, with every right to her finery and adornments.  But in God’s eyes, she knew what she was – she was simply his child, his faithful one, his little one in need of salvation.  Before the Lord, there are no kings and queens.  There are just little ones.  As Patti explained, “Without the ‘finery’ of fashion, of worldly goods, I simply present myself before him, unadorned, a child of the Father.” 

Francois-Leon Benouville

Francois-Leon Benouville

Note:  The prayer of Esther is found in the deuterocanonical additions to the book of Esther.  To read it, click here.