Journal of Sacred Work

Guest Meditation by Catherine Self

   Henri Nouwen writes of the life of the Beloved and of the
sacred voice that first called us by our true name – Beloved. What a powerful
word! What an amazing name to be called – Beloved! A quick search into the
meaning of a word we don’t often hear (or use) in everyday conversations
reveals a journey to find something for which many of us spend a lifetime of
effort and intent. The word beloved means to be much-loved, dearly loved,
adored.
   I revel in the depth of those words by getting lost in the eyes of my
now 3-month old granddaughter. This child of my child has eyes that are large
and deep pools of unadulterated love…

   She catches sight of my face and her
sudden smile embraces the deepest reaches of my soul. Before being able to
speak the words, before understanding Love, the look in the eyes of that little
person elicits in me a complete sense of be-lovedness.
   She asks nothing of me
at those moments, expects nothing in return. The loving gaze of my
granddaughter expands my heart and my very spirit so that, suddenly, all things
are possible again. Her greatest gift is giving me, as Nouwen puts it, the gift
of my Belovedness. 
   Beloved! My cup runs over, it is so filled! I am capable of
anything and of all things, even leaping tall buildings in a single bound! From
the deep well of my belovedness I seek to awaken in others that same sense, to
call others by their also precious name – Beloved!
   But oh, how quickly and how
easily I am seduced from that sacred place, from my own belovedness. Without
thinking, without awareness, I so easily fall into distraction, disarray, even
dismay. And instead of calling you Beloved, I hear the voice of self doubt and
I call you impatient. From the voice that tells me I am imperfect, I call you
belligerent. From the seductive voice of arrogance, I call you wrong.
    What is it that keeps us from living in that sacred place of
Belovedness all the time? Nouwen suggests that our sense of living as the
Beloved is often overwhelmed by dark voices seeking to convince us otherwise.
These are the voices that declare us worthless, ugly, even meaningless unless
and until proven otherwise. We’ve all heard these voices in television ads, through
magazine articles, and from countless books claiming the latest secret to
success, acceptability, and power. Sometimes it is the voice from within that
condemns and diminishes, and we believe it over that which speaks the truth of
our belovedness!
    But haven’t we also heard those dark voices in the spaces of
our organizations? Don’t words like “not now,” “it’s the rule,” and “you can’t”
just as surely shut down the heart and diminish the spirit?
   In a world where
efficiency has overcome words of kindness, where numbers have superseded acts
of compassion, and where job survival has taken the place of healing with love,
it is no wonder that we can no longer hear our own sacred name. We caregivers
become compelled by fear, rushing through to complete our tasks, not hearing
our rightful name called and missing in the process those who desperately need
to hear their own true name called. Beloved!
   I wonder how life might change if each of us could fully
embrace our own belovedness? Could it be possible to live in the gift of each
of our own belovedness so that, suddenly, all things are possible? Would we
dare to break a rule for the sake of meeting the legitimate needs of another?
Would we have the courage to hold the calloused, dirt-covered hand and speak of
love? Would a sense of our own belovedness make a difference in this world? Does
that which is within each one of us hold the promise of making the impossible
possible?
    American poet Wendell Berry speaks of opening

“…a persimmon seed to find the tree

that stands in promise,

pale, in the seed’s marrow.…we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.”*

    Beloved, the seeds of love planted today become the hands of
love tomorrow. What we need is here now, and holds the promise of all that
could be. In the clatter of the Season, through the pressure of staffing
limitations and critical demands, now more than ever we pray “to be quiet in
heart, and in eye clear.” Listen. Do you hear it? Your name is being called.
Beloved! Beloved! Beloved!

-Catherine Self
Senior Consultant, Healing Trust Services

*From “The Wild Geese,” in The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry.