The man who loves

Love makes us leave everything in order to serve the lover. No sooner has the phone rang, than he has left his books and his pen, he has stopped eating and forgotten himself. Some leave their bath when the phone beeps, for the call they are expecting. Some spend all day waiting for the letter or email. Love makes us cut off all the attachments. Everything else seems unimportant and unessential save the affection of the lover, to be at his or her feet and to serve him.

Prayer requires often at least an iota of such love. Where do I go, Lord, my hope is in you? A man who cuts off all the many little things vying for his heart, those men or women vying for a minute of his time, who switches off the TV or the iPOD, or minimizes the website, or gets off the phone call or stops talking or studying because it is time for Prayer. This man is in love. It takes love to pray, more than anything else. All of us can dance and watch a movie or cuddle a loved one. But many of us cannot always listen to another or talk to another. We are into everything but love. The man who leaves everything and sits down to pray listens and talks. He is in love.

Two contradictions: Sanctity and Comfort

Comfort and sanctity can not go hand in hand. In this world, all pursue comfort whereas in reality, it is a garden to grow sanctity. It is the battle field where soldiers of sanctity are born but what is left of us, comfort-driven men, are merchants and traders of pleasures: one for another. Comfort sees the joy of rest and Sanctity sees the joy of watching the neighbor at rest. Sanctity is always trying to protect itself in a Man who wishes to be always at work. Through work, he guards his sanctity for work is harsh, work has thorns, work has sweat and work presupposes humility. Work and discipline embraces many little crosses which adds more coal to the fire of Sanctity. Comfort avoid all crosses, where there is no cross, there is no sanctity. Comfort seeks the conventions of the world, to live life as a king, sprawled on a couch hands outstretched, a visible glory. But sanctity seeks only greatness. It hides its glory portraying the ordinariness of the man without and greatness of the soul within.