The Lord kept sending me prophecies!

No, he certainly has not sent any to me - though I dare say the Internet has increased the number of people who at least think they are latter-day prophets. The heading is a quotation from a rather self-absorbed Sister I knew during my charismatic days.

In M's convent, where many Sisters were in varied ministries and there was not much common prayer, it was the custom to recite the Office of Readings together, after the gospel at the daily, evening Eucharist. They did not follow the ordo for scriptural and 'second' readings, and whichever Sister was having a turn as leader for the week could use passages or authors at her own discretion. M. regularly complained, not only within the house but to those she knew elsewhere, that the superior kept telling her to use readings, when she could not because "The Lord kept sending me prophecies!"

No - she was not crazy, though she was very trying. It was the flavour of the time - and the idea of being personally, constantly granted special charisms, which is dangerously self-absorbed, was merely interpreted as the action of the Holy Spirit by those who were 'prophets' in their own eyes. It was a day of great enthusiasm, but little if any theology of discernment.

Memories also come to me of a young woman (very pretty, and striking in her lace mantilla - the more because hers was the only head that wore one by the time of our story) who was more traditional in her approach. I used to see B. at local Eucharistic celebrations or Vespers (she got around), and her saintly demeanour was rather overpowering. B. would always enter the church a second before the service was to begin, take the first pew after a very slow genuflection and Sign of the Cross worthy of Bernadette during the apparitions, then kneel throughout the entire Mass or Office, reading the collected works of John of the Cross. B. was a Carmelite tertiary, and I sometimes smiled to myself, knowing full well how the great Teresa would have greeted such behaviour.

In convent life and certain classic spiritual approaches, there often was such an emphasis on avoiding 'singularisation' that one's own individuality was crushed. A balance is hard to achieve. Yet one trait the very devout need to face, again and again, is that, honest though we may be about our (clear, serious) sinfulness, many of our distractions grow all the more powerful because they are sprung from wanting to preach the gospel, practise virtue, set a good example, and so forth.