Sometimes, unexpectedly, going around in circles can be uplifting

The property at our monastery includes large areas of pasture dotted with clumps of woodland. Various birds, such as owls and hawks, nest in the woodlands, and during the night we can hear the owls hooting, while during the day we can see a hawk flying over the pastures. It circles effortlessly round and round the pasture looking for food on the ground. Its wings never move except to tilt slightly as it shifts its circling course over the open spaces. It is held aloft on the warm air currents rising from ground and it rides these over and over the same patch of ground.

Then suddenly, its flight changes. It shifts its position and the tilt of its wings and tail alters slightly. Without ceasing to circle, it changes its circle into a spiral. It is riding the thermals, the pockets of hot air rising as the sun heats the ground. It may still fly over the same place, but its horizon has expanded, and it sees more than it did before.

We, too, circle through life as we follow the liturgical calendar. The Church leads us through the various liturgical seasons, Advent, Christmastide, Ordinary Time, Lent, Paschaltide and again Ordinary Time, to begin anew with Advent. Like the hawks, we can be carried along through the various seasons, hearing the familiar readings and joining in the familiar practices.

We listen to John the Baptist preparing us for the coming of the Messiah during Advent, and we join with the angels to welcome Jesus at Christmas.

We go with him into the desert during Lent and we share in his passion during Holy Week. Then we rejoice in his victory over death at Easter and celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost! Finally, we find ourselves back in Ordinary Time until the end of November. It is a familiar cycle.

I said that the hawks circle effortlessly over the pastures, but that is only how it seems to me looking up at them from the ground. It must take great strength to keep their wings held out against the pull of gravity even though they are borne up by the air.

In the same way, it takes spiritual strength for us to follow the liturgical cycle in a way that is meaningful. Familiarity can often breed numbness. We have heard it all before and the words no longer resonate as they used to. We need to find the meaning behind the words, to discover the relationship behind the practices. In other words, we need to stop just circling and begin to spiral.

A spiral goes in a circle over the same ground, but it sees it always from a slightly higher vantage point. We see more than we did before from the same position. The liturgical cycle is given to us to teach us to spiral upwards. The meaning of each liturgical season should be richer than it was a year ago.

Lent is the perfect example. We undertake certain practices during Lent, and then, with a sigh of relief, we set them aside at Easter. We got through the austerity of Lent without breaking our resolutions too often and we can be justly proud of ourselves.

But did we come out of Lent any different from the way we were when we went in? The collect of the Mass for Monday of the fifth week of Lent urges us to spiral upwards even just a little when it prays, “Grant us so to pass from former ways to newness of life that we may be made ready for the glory of the heavenly kingdom.”

There should be something new in the way we live as we join Jesus in his Resurrection. Something different, perhaps a willingness to say “please” and “thank you” more often, or a readiness to smile that we didn’t have before. We need to discover what it means have risen to new life with Jesus. We need to learn to be resurrected.

Sister Gabriela of the Incarnation is a member of the Discalced Carmelites order in Flemington. Learn more at www.flemingtoncarmel.org.