Tags
determination, endure, envision, future, light, love, Sisters of St. Joseph, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
I smiled when I just looked at the title for my last blog entry (“What Time Is It?”), in part because I am in a different time zone than usual. Although Minnesota is only one hour behind the Northeast, and because all my electronic devices correct themselves without help from me, I might not notice the inner disturbance that occurs when visiting a location like California (3 hours difference) or a European country (6 or 7 hours difference). There is a subtle adjustment to be made, however. I have been up and thinking for over an hour and here it’s only 6:10am.
The shift happens inside too as I am sitting in a bedroom on a hall that used to house a large number of young women aspiring to become members of the Sisters of St. Joseph, and now is filled with older women who come to consider what it has been like and how we might envision a future for those of us who have lived this religious life for decades. The halls are long (especially for those of us situated far from the morning coffee) but hold a familiar comfort of the lively exchanges that take place during gatherings in our own Province Center – our Motherhouse – in New York State.
Next weekend I will be there to gather with the Sisters I have known over 52 years to celebrate and converse together about changes and what does not change about our life together. In both places the task is/will be, as we often say, “a long, loving look at the real.” This weekend I see familiar faces from interactions of many years ago on committees. Sometimes I remember the names that go with the faces, depending on the extent of what we shared. Most are still vibrant women who witness to hope. Some are less able but more dear, perhaps, as their willingness is still alive although their bodies, and sometimes their minds, fail them a bit. Next weekend it will be the same scene but with more recognition on my part.
What is evident to me is that light shines out from all of us. Love is deep and determination to endure is strong among us. And that is certainly enough to know.
Today in churches and schools far and wide there will be infrequent guests lining up for blessings. It is the feast of St. Francis, of course, who loved all of creation but chose to possess nothing in order that he could be totally dependent on God. My favorite story about Francis may not be factual and it is not the one of the sweet stories of his relationship with the birds and the beasts (although those are also compelling). It comes from a novel by Nikos Kazantzakis entitled simply Saint Francis, in which the narrator, Brother Leo, says something like the following:
Today Christians the world over celebrate an unlikely “celebrity” of the Church. For someone reading a sketch of her life for the first time – just the facts – St. Therese of Lisieux would appear to be no one special, although tragic maybe, because she only lived until the age of 24 years, having contracted tuberculosis at a young age. What one learns, however, in studying her own writings and the evidence in other sources, is that she is one of the most popular saints in the history of Christianity. How is this possible for someone who entered a cloistered Carmelite community at the age of 15 years and lived a daily routine of prayer and household tasks until her death nine years later?
St. Paul is “waxing eloquent” today in what may be his most famous and frequently quoted text of all: 1 COR 12:31-13:13. It is heard it so often at weddings that I sometimes wonder if we don’t just get as far as “Love is patient, love is kind…” and then let the words slide across our consciousness without really penetrating too deeply. Perhaps that’s too harsh a judgment on such an important moment, but I have often heard that “what is seldom is wonderful” and sometimes I know that I perk up and listen better to unfamiliar readings.
In his small book, Praying with the Earth: A Prayerbook for Peace, John Philip Newell writes each morning and evening of the week a prayer for the life of the world. Brief as they are, they are compelling in their depth and intensity, calling out to God with vision and yearning, always capturing quickly and quietly a trust of the God that will never disappoint. Here is what he offers on this – and every – Saturday morning.
It’s raining again. This week we have had a taste of the destruction that has been rare for us, caused by soaking rains and flash-flooding. It’s as if the earth cannot take any more pain. Having cried too long, her tears now overflow in a mud bath on the streets and structural damage to homes and other buildings near our two rivers and the many outlying creeks. Today the rain feels soft and my desire is to go outside and stand, then walk in it, to listen and accept what is happening, to be washed clean of all distress and the insidious doubt that can invade the soul at times like this.
It seems as if we, like Noah, will soon have to begin building an ark to survive the rain that seems destined to go on forever taking lives, swallowing up cars and filling homes with muddy destruction. Would that we could gather it up and send it West to smother some of the wildfires that are devastating so many homes and lives on the other side of our country. Such environmental distress and human loss is difficult to take in as pictures on the news bring it all to the fore each evening.
I just read a short essay about the efficacy of prayer and subsequently opened John Philip Newell’s book of Celtic Treasures: Daily Scriptures and Prayer. I found what I see as a strong example of an efficacious prayer, that is, a prayer that brings about the reality of what it expresses if we believe what we are saying. See if you don’t agree.
St. Clare of Assisi, whom we celebrate today, was a great example of the adage “Behind every good man, there is a good woman.” While he did not see her often, St. Francis counted on her holiness and wisdom to shore up his determination in times of doubt and difficulty. Clare was a clear mirror of the presence of God for Francis and for those women who followed her to the convent of San Damiano, and he was the same for her. She was a woman of great strength and perseverance who believed that she was the one who knew best what should be written in a rule for women in a religious order. Although she easily accepted the rule that Francis has written in the early days, after the death of Francis she continued for 27 years to submit a revised rule to bishops and popes until she finally received and signed a constitutional document of her own two days before her death on August 11, 1253.
Living at a retreat center where different groups come virtually every weekend from May to October can be a real learning experience in many ways. Some of the people have been coming for years in the same manner as people who go on vacation to the same place during the same week(s) each year and look forward to reconnecting with others who become friends for a lifetime. We get used to each other and look forward to one another from year to year, regardless of those “little personality quirks” that may have rankled at first.