I very much like to read autobiographies. I like hearing people talk about their own life stories. Recently a friend shared with me a chapter in a book. The chapter is written by Ilio Delio, the Franciscan sister who has written much on evolution and theology that I have enjoyed reading. I have not met her, although I have read quite a bit by her. So I was eager to get a sense for how she developed as a person and a theologian.
She begins the chapter in this fashion. “In 1984 I completed a dissertation in pharmacology at New Jersey Medical School. My research was in the area of motoneuron neuropathy and I worked on an experimental drug to mimic the pathological neuronal damage found in Lou Gehrig’s disease…” As one who does not know that much science, I am awed and supportive of all the findings scientists discover. Delio claims she was a hardcore scientist who felt that the path to truth could only be found in science.”
But this is not all. I was intrigued by another sentence in her autobiographical account. Even though she was very satisfied with the life of science which she had carved out for herself and which promised to be lucrative, she recognizes that “something more seem to be at the heart of it all…” She continues, “I felt there was an elusive quality of nature which lead me to write the first page of my doctoral dissertation.” That sentence reads, “In the simplest cell of life lies the mystery of creation.” It was this “mystery of creation” that was going to turn out to be a God calling on her life in ways she still finds amazing.
She grew up Catholic. Humorously, she said she developed two brains: “a science brain and a religious brain.” After finishing her doctoral degree, she accepted a post-doctoral fellowship to continue her studies in science. Even so, she acknowledges, “I felt there was a deep inner draw to God that could not be satisfied by scientific research.” And of course, here comes Thomas Merton, my favorite monk. Someone gave Delio a recent biography of Merton and she was hooked!
Merton so affected her, and soon she said, “I took a slight detour and entered a Byzantine Rite monastery of discalced (shoeless) Carmelite nuns in Pennsylvania.” She realized she could not explain it to her science colleagues, as she turned down the postdoc fellowship to become a nun. She admits, “I could neither explain God nor adequately describe the power of a religious call to a celibate life. All I could say was that the power of God was such that to deny God would have been to deny my very self.” I am moved to read these words. I know if folks don’t have a sense for God, her decision and life seems absurd.
For sure God was moving in her. She had a call, but it was not perfect. Delio’s own words capture this. She tells us, “Despite the rhythmic harmony of monastic life, however, I felt something was askew.” She liked much that monastic life offered. But she felt like true disciples of Jesus probably would not be called to live separately from the world. She acknowledged, “This unresolved spiritual struggle created a great interior conflict for me…” So after four years with the Carmelite nuns, she took a leave of absence and chose to live with “a community of German Franciscans sisters in New Jersey…”
She liked the Franciscans. And she quipped, soon the sisters sent her to Fordham to study theology. The rest is history. She now teaches theology and incorporates her scientific knowledge into the theology she is writing. It is clear the power of God is known to her specifically as the power to love and the power of being loved. This kind of theology I find very attractive. And I appreciate her ability to articulate it in ways I cannot since I have not been trained scientifically, as she has been.
She spends most of the latter part of the autobiographical chapter reflecting on her current life and work. I find this compelling. For example, she observes, “If the power of divine love is source and goal of all that is, then knowledge alone cannot bring us to our ultimate meaning and fulfillment, only the fidelity of love. God is eternally becoming other in love unto love.” While it would take a long time to unpack these two sentences, they do seem deeply true. She ties ultimate meaning and fulfillment to love. And she is clear that God is love. God’s work is love and that love has power.
I sincerely believe this and trust it is true. Certainly, we know and see the power of hate in our world. If love is not equally or more powerful than hate, then we probably are doomed as a human race. The chapter brings together science and religion in an attractive way. Delio says, “Science discloses the power of nature to orient itself toward relationships and complexity but it cannot define or constrain the power of transcending love.”
She then affirms with the sureness of knowing God that “There is an absolute wholeness of truth and beauty that lies at the center of even a single cell.” I love it when she informs us, “I went in search of this powerful lure and I discovered a God who is hidden and humble…” Such is the power of God’s love.
Delio, “The Entangled God of My Heart”
She begins the chapter in this fashion. “In 1984 I completed a dissertation in pharmacology at New Jersey Medical School. My research was in the area of motoneuron neuropathy and I worked on an experimental drug to mimic the pathological neuronal damage found in Lou Gehrig’s disease…” As one who does not know that much science, I am awed and supportive of all the findings scientists discover. Delio claims she was a hardcore scientist who felt that the path to truth could only be found in science.”
But this is not all. I was intrigued by another sentence in her autobiographical account. Even though she was very satisfied with the life of science which she had carved out for herself and which promised to be lucrative, she recognizes that “something more seem to be at the heart of it all…” She continues, “I felt there was an elusive quality of nature which lead me to write the first page of my doctoral dissertation.” That sentence reads, “In the simplest cell of life lies the mystery of creation.” It was this “mystery of creation” that was going to turn out to be a God calling on her life in ways she still finds amazing.
She grew up Catholic. Humorously, she said she developed two brains: “a science brain and a religious brain.” After finishing her doctoral degree, she accepted a post-doctoral fellowship to continue her studies in science. Even so, she acknowledges, “I felt there was a deep inner draw to God that could not be satisfied by scientific research.” And of course, here comes Thomas Merton, my favorite monk. Someone gave Delio a recent biography of Merton and she was hooked!
Merton so affected her, and soon she said, “I took a slight detour and entered a Byzantine Rite monastery of discalced (shoeless) Carmelite nuns in Pennsylvania.” She realized she could not explain it to her science colleagues, as she turned down the postdoc fellowship to become a nun. She admits, “I could neither explain God nor adequately describe the power of a religious call to a celibate life. All I could say was that the power of God was such that to deny God would have been to deny my very self.” I am moved to read these words. I know if folks don’t have a sense for God, her decision and life seems absurd.
For sure God was moving in her. She had a call, but it was not perfect. Delio’s own words capture this. She tells us, “Despite the rhythmic harmony of monastic life, however, I felt something was askew.” She liked much that monastic life offered. But she felt like true disciples of Jesus probably would not be called to live separately from the world. She acknowledged, “This unresolved spiritual struggle created a great interior conflict for me…” So after four years with the Carmelite nuns, she took a leave of absence and chose to live with “a community of German Franciscans sisters in New Jersey…”
She liked the Franciscans. And she quipped, soon the sisters sent her to Fordham to study theology. The rest is history. She now teaches theology and incorporates her scientific knowledge into the theology she is writing. It is clear the power of God is known to her specifically as the power to love and the power of being loved. This kind of theology I find very attractive. And I appreciate her ability to articulate it in ways I cannot since I have not been trained scientifically, as she has been.
She spends most of the latter part of the autobiographical chapter reflecting on her current life and work. I find this compelling. For example, she observes, “If the power of divine love is source and goal of all that is, then knowledge alone cannot bring us to our ultimate meaning and fulfillment, only the fidelity of love. God is eternally becoming other in love unto love.” While it would take a long time to unpack these two sentences, they do seem deeply true. She ties ultimate meaning and fulfillment to love. And she is clear that God is love. God’s work is love and that love has power.
I sincerely believe this and trust it is true. Certainly, we know and see the power of hate in our world. If love is not equally or more powerful than hate, then we probably are doomed as a human race. The chapter brings together science and religion in an attractive way. Delio says, “Science discloses the power of nature to orient itself toward relationships and complexity but it cannot define or constrain the power of transcending love.”
She then affirms with the sureness of knowing God that “There is an absolute wholeness of truth and beauty that lies at the center of even a single cell.” I love it when she informs us, “I went in search of this powerful lure and I discovered a God who is hidden and humble…” Such is the power of God’s love.
Delio, “The Entangled God of My Heart”
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