This weekend.

I spent the weekend with the RSCJ community in Houston--and had a wonderful time.

One of the challenges over the last few months has been the separation from the community. I know I will be entering the Society this summer, but right now I live far away from the sisters. The weekend with them was just what I needed, a little reminder of why this is so important to me.

Thank you!

"How Did He Open Your Eyes?"

The Gospel reading for today really struck a chord with me. (We used the "Year A" option, for there were Catechumens and Candidates with us.) The reading was John 9:1-41, the healing of the man blind from birth.

The part that caught my attention especially was when the Pharisees were questioning the healed man about how he was healed, doubting his answers and asking him repeatedly. They ask, "How did he open your eyes?"

I find myself asked often "How did you decide to enter a religious order?"

I can relate to the answer of the healed man (one of several answers he has to give the persistent Pharisees): "One thing I know is that I was blind and now I see."

How did I decide to enter a religious order? I don't really know. I just know that one day Jesus opened my eyes to see that this is the path he wishes me to take. In a lot of ways, I don't see it as my decision at all, even though (of course) I did freely choose it, and I know I am free to choose another path.

I can give all sorts of little answers to the question--about how I'm a theologian, so Catholicism is really important to me; that I have a desire to grow spiritually and to serve others; that I am attracted to this particular group of sisters because of their combination of contemplation and apostolic ministry, as well as their educational focus....

But none of these answers is nearly as strong in my mind as that gentle tug that I feel from Jesus to love Him with my whole being, and to give myself to this way of living Love.

The YES!

I have big news to share--the Society of the Sacred Heart accepted me to begin formation! I will enter the community as a Candidate beginning in August.

I am so thankful, so grateful, so humbled by this news. These women are amazing, and they have welcomed me into their lives, even to become one of their sisters. I am grateful to God for the calling, and grateful to the sisters for helping me to hear it and for hearing it with me.

There is (of course) much more in my heart, but I will end with a quote from St. Madeleine Sophie Barat, which I offer as a prayer for each of us:

"Give up all self-seeking and leave space for the Spirit of Jesus. Once this process is complete, everything goes like a vessel powered by steam: it is the breath of the Spirit that moves everything along."

Amen!

Image from cuorhome.net

Thirty

30 = 2 x 3 x 5

30 days hath September,
April, June, and November

30 years ago, Mother Teresa was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize

When Jesus was about 30, he started his public ministry.

And... I am officially 30 today. Happy birthday to me!

I pray this year for peace in my heart and in our world. I pray in thanksgiving for all my beautiful friends and family. I pray that this year, I might become God's heart in the world just a little more every day.

Reflections on Being Called

I'm (again) in the middle of many books! The two dominant ones are Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston and The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris.

The Cloister Walk is fascinating, with the author's Protestant faithful perspective on the liturgy of the hours and monastic living. She seems more catholic than she lets on! She discusses the saints and humanity in beautiful language, and what she says speaks to me in unexpected ways. Here's one example, from a discussion of Jeremiah:

"All of us, I suspect, have times when we're made to suffer simply for being who and what we are, and we become adept at inventing means of escape. ... Jeremiah reminded me that the pain that comes from one's identity, that grows out of the response to a call, can't be escaped or pushed aside. It must be gone through. He led me into that heart of pain, forcing me to recognize that to answer a call as a prophet, or a poet for that matter, is to reject the authority of credentials, of human valuation of any kind, accepting only the authority of the call itself." (p.38)

A few pages later:
"Walter Brueggeman, in a book on the prophets entitled Hopeful Imagination, suggests that 'a sense of call in our time is profoundly countercultural,' and notes that 'the ideology of our time is that we can live "an uncalled life," one not referred to any purpose beyond one's self.' I suspect that this idol of the autonomous, uncalled life has a shadow side that demands that we resist the notion that another might be different, might indeed experience a call. Our idol of the autonomous individual is a sham; the truth is we expect everyone to be the same, and dismiss as elitist those who are working through a call to any genuine vocation. It may be that our culture so fears the necessary other that it has grown unable to identify and name real differences without becoming defensive about them."

These words speak to my own internal struggles with a vocation and how it is perceived. All of us know that choosing religious life is countercultural--who else gives up sex, money, and power? But, of course, there's more to it than that. In my heart, there is the knowledge that if I don't listen to this calling, even if it leads me back to where I started, I will not be happy. I will not be at peace with myself and with God. Despite any hardships that listening to the call might bring.

Babies

I just came home from a lovely week with my dearest friend and her three-month-old baby. I miss her so much--we have lived in different cities for about a year and a half, and I still wish that I could see her more often than I do.

One of the interesting things about our relationship is how it has stayed strong, even though I am choosing a celibate life, and she got married and started a family. It helps that she's into religious things, since she (and her husband, too) understands my calling and sees it as a blessing. I'm very grateful for that, and it allows us to keep close even when our lives are very different. And of course, I value her way of life as well. Who wouldn't love a beautiful family, a precious babe?

Our friendship has changed, as she becomes a mother and her world is dominated by the needs of the little one. It's something that I enjoy watching, but at the same time I miss our old friendship, where I could claim more attention. Doesn't that sound selfish! I think she might miss it too, miss having more freedom to do what she wants. I know she wouldn't change it for the world, that she loves that little boy more than anything, but I know also that this transition is hard on both of us.

It's always funny to me that the most beautiful things in life are also some of the most difficult things to adjust to. Moving into something new is exciting, but it is also a time to mourn what you are leaving behind.

Happy New Year!

A friend sent this image, along with a forward that got me thinking. First, I love the image. And the text that was with it talks about letting go of the people who have hurt you, of not bringing those wounds into the new year.

I'm finally home after a week with the sisters for interviews and stuff, and a week with family for Christmas. So tomorrow, New Years Day, is going to be all mine. I need some time to reflect, and I will include this in my reflection.

• What sorrows and wounds do I need to leave behind for the new year?
• What are the blessings that I will bring forward with me into the future?

I have so much to be thankful for, and so many people live in my heart. I am looking forward to a beautiful year, full of graces and changes, and challenges as well.

God's grace to you this New Year!

One Very Long (and Productive) Week

I just returned last night from a full week in St. Louis, completing much of the application to the Society of the Sacred Heart. I'm happy to report that all went well, and that the application is almost finished!

One of the big things about discernment has been self-discovery. I wonder how many people really consider who they are as deeply as someone who is exploring religious life. This last week was yet another opportunity to learn about myself, with a psychologist pointing out both my weaknesses and my strengths. It was a growth-filled experience, though it leaves me with some sadness about my past. I hope that the things I (and the Society) learned will be helpful in formation and community living.

It was a lovely week with the sisters. I stayed in two different houses, and greatly enjoyed being in each one. I am grateful for the brief glimpse at community living! I look forward to having it full time. (Knowing also that full time will be a bit more challenging than a one-week stint!)

Morning Prayer

Today's morning prayer is the first for Advent, and this, from the reading, caught my eye:

"It is now the hour for you to wake from sleep, for our salvation is closer than when we first accepted the faith. The night is far spent; the day draws near. Let us cast off deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light." (Rom. 13:11-12)

Advent is the time of anticipation--and it is good to feel the anticipation in Paul's writings, to remember that he believed Christ would come again in his own lifetime. There is energy, excitement, and a strong call of repentance wrapped in that expectation.

So, let us turn away from dark deeds, and don the armor of light!

Looking Out for Number One

So, becoming a nun is counter-cultural.

Huh. I never would have thought. (Sarcasm drips...)

I've just been visiting some people, and while I had realized how different my mindset is becoming, it was really brought home to me this visit.

I'm a pretty quiet person, and so often I listen more than I speak. Which seems to mean that sometimes I hear lots more than I care to. This weekend, it was stories about sex (not my favorite topic), and a little bit about how "I used to be Catholic, but..." which usually ends in the sex abuse scandal.

And then there is the whole attitude about money and self-promotion. Here's a sample of one conversation:

A friend: So, what do you do about money?
Me: Well, the order takes care of my needs and my salary goes to them.
Friend: So, how does that work, exactly?
Me: I don't really know yet. It's not all that important to me.
Friend: I guess you never really have been focused on getting money.


And also about careers:
Friend: What if they ask you to do something that you don't want to do?
Me: Well, I'm not sure of all the details, but I know that we discuss those sorts of things together.
Friend: So, you can tell them what you want.
Me: Yes and no. It's a conversation, like if you were married, you wouldn't make big career decisions without consulting your spouse. I let them know what I think God is calling me to do, and we discuss the issue. If they need me to serve in a particular way, then I will take on that ministry.

I got the feeling from that conversation that my friend never really understood that I'm not "looking out for number one" anymore, but that my life will be in service to others. {As I write, perhaps it's that I'm looking out for number One? Doing what the Divine One needs?)

It makes me sad for two reasons: that the people I love don't really understand what I'm doing, and that so many people in the world are attached to sex, money, and self-promotion. I want to just shout--does this really make you happy? If it does, then why is it never enough???

But I'm trying to simply patiently explain what happens, and to hope that it starts to make sense to those I care about.

Ignatian Spirituality

I just began reading a book by Joseph Tetlow, S.J., called Making Choices in Christ: The Foundations of Ignatian Spirituality. It's very good--a very clear explanation of the Ignatian version (flavor?) of spirituality, especially as it is lived out today. Fr. Tetlow makes the point that Ignatius always intended it to be used among the laity, and that this intention is being lived out very widely, especially since Vatican II.

He says that all traditional spiritualities are ways of life, in addition to ways of relating to God. This is an important point--how we relate to God and understand ourselves ought to influence how we live. It seems to me that this only happens after some self-reflection and consideration of our actions. (Which, by the way, is a particularly strong characteristic of Ignatian spirituality.)

Fr. Tetlow describes the difference between this spirituality and others: "Other spiritualities seek the God of love, or of beautiful order, or of truth. Ignatian spirituality seeks the God who is always at work in the world and in each heart. The purpose of the spirituality is to help us find how we are to work along with God to bring the reign of Christ to human life and good order to the natural world--to the everyday world as it is now." (p. 2) I think about some of the other spiritualities that he is talking about -- ones that speak only of my heart, my relationship with God. It seems that some of them are missing the crucial point of looking to the world and seeing God in it.

I just watched Hotel Rwanda. I am trying to reconcile in my mind the horrors of human hatred with the work of God in the world. But I think one thing Ignatian spirituality teaches me is that I have to look at the world and see the pain and suffering. That is the world, which is where we live, the situation we have to deal with here and now. So then, the question becomes, where is God in all of that suffering? In the aide workers, in all who seek to protect those in danger and comfort those who suffer.

It makes me so sad that we live in world where money is still considered more than people, than human life. But I have to remember that not everyone agrees, that there are many of us who would always stick up for anyone, even if they can bring us nothing more substantial than a smile or a little joy.

How do we change the world? I don't know--I know that I don't have control of the world. But I can change me, and I can show to others the love that God has for them. If enough of us want to do that, the world will change.

A Reflection on the World

I've been writing some reflections for my application to the society, and I thought I would share this little bit:

I have never (and still do not) understood how we could separate God from the world, despite the attempt at separating church and state. Even when I took philosophy courses in college, I failed at arguing a position philosophically without making it theological. I very firmly believe that it is all united—body, spirit, World, Spirit. I cannot remove the “God” from my worldview anymore than I can remove my heart from my body.

I'm not sure when I realized it, but this worldview places me at odds with our society. I think this must be the case for many Christians who seek to live out their faith. How do we justify and explain what we do without some reference to God?

This seems most evident when I try to understand how an atheist or agnostic understands morality. For me, it is all wrapped up in the fact that human beings are precious, because they were created by God in God's image and likeness. That's the foundation of all Christian morality, really--that everyone must be respected because every life, every individual is so valuable.

Reflecting on religious life

I got out of the habit of blogging, and now it is hard to return! But I am finally back in my own home, and adjusting to a new summer schedule. So here's to blogging, once again!

I had a wonderful 3 weeks of travel, to California (both northern and southern) and to St. Louis, Missouri. I was fortunate to be able to attend the Jesuit ordinations in St. Louis--what a powerful ceremony. It was really a wonderful journey for me, and it helped me to see some things about religious life that I hadn't noticed before.

One of my concerns lately has been the question: how does living as a woman religious in today's world really contribute to the church? If we (women) can't be ordained, then what is the use of becoming part of the institution, so to speak?

I guess I struggle with this because I don't really understand the reasons for keeping women from priesthood to begin with (but that is another story for another time). Yes, I know what the church teaches, and I accept it for the sake of union, but it just doesn't make logical sense to me.

There is a second reason why I struggle with this issue: I believe that I do contribute to the church. I teach Catholic theology, and I feel that this is a gift that God has given to me, that I then share with the church. So, why become a nun? How does that make any difference at all? I mean, I contribute without being a nun, so what does it matter if my lifestyle is different?

I still don't know the answer. But watching the four men who were ordained Jesuits in St. Louis helped me to see that ordination for them does not define their service to the world. These are men who have lived religious life for over a decade each, and ordination (it seems to me) is simply another step of their formation and their life. It's not meaningless, but it also isn't what defines them in their lives as religious. They did not become Jesuits solely to be priests (if they did, they surely would have chosen something with a shorter formation program!), but their priesthood is part of a greater contribution to the Catholic world.

Maybe that's the distinction I need to see also. I do not want to become a nun to serve the church, per se, but to serve the world and the human beings who live in it. It's not about an institution, but rather it's about sharing God's love with people!

So while I don't really have an answer to my question, I have a better understanding of the value of religious life. It offers me a way to live that makes it easier to serve the world in a bigger way than I can on my own. That's certainly not the whole of it, but at least I feel like I've understood another little bit.

Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience

I know it's been a while since I posted anything substantive. It's mostly just been so busy--the last week of the semester is upon us (thankfully), and I have papers to grade!

I'm in a good place generally. The good news is that I have been given permission to move forward with my application. I'm so happy! There is a lot of work to do with it, and a lot of discernment still in my path.... But it is work that helps me grow, and so I'm thankful for it.

One of the things on my mind lately is that last vow -- obedience. I've thought a lot about the other two, and I think for now they are settled in my mind. I don't think they will be easy to follow all the time, but I think I can come to terms with them and have started to already. I know that living them is freeing, that it leaves me open to love and to serve more completely.

Obedience is coming up now, as I realize that I want to decide where I go for my candidacy year (God willing that I am accepted). There are certain things I want to do and certain places I would rather spend that year. I am so accustomed to making all the decisions about my life and my job, about where I live and what I am doing, that I think it only just dawned on me that I need to let that go.

I think that the Society generally listens to its members and works with their talents, so I don't imagine that I will be completely excluded from the process. But I want to be in complete control! That is what I need to let go of.

I guess, what I am praying for now, is the freedom in my heart to walk away joyfully from university teaching, if that is where the Spirit blows.

Prayer

From St. Madeleine Sophie:

Be in peace about the state of your soul and your manner of prayer; only love and do what you please. The essential thing and the proof of true love is forgetfulness of self and of one’s own interests to think only of those of the loved one…So what difference does it make how you pray provided that your heart is seeking the one you love.

The last line reminds me of other mystics--prayer as simply loving God. It seems that prayer for me needs to come in many forms--the liturgy of the church, silence in God's presence, contemplating the psalms or readings of the day. Lately for me, prayer comes with tears. Not just tears of sadness, though there are some of those, but also tears of joy, tears of anticipation, tears of fear, tears of remembering. I am thankful for the tears in a way, and I have to remind myself that tears, too, are a gift. Emotions are a part of being human, and so they are another way of expressing who I am and how I deal with the world.

(Many thanks, D, for the quote.)

finding meaning in music

I have this song in my head, from last week with the Sisters. It must have some meaning if it's still stuck in my head...

While I was with the Sisters, I felt the need to "escape" from my fears and doubts... but that never happens quite as planned. I decided to spend some time in my room with my mp3 player, and this song came up, which just seemed to speak to everything I was feeling. I'm amazed at how often songs can do that. The song is Wild Horses by Natasha Bedingfield, audio found here.

All I want is the wind in my hair
To face the fear but not feel scared

Wild horses I wanna be like you
Throwing caution to the wind, I'll run free too
Wish I could recklessly love like I'm longing to

Jumping head-first, head-long
Without a thought
To act and damn the consequence
How I wish it could be that easy
But fear surrounds me like a fence
I wanna break free

Recklessly abandoning myself before you

I wish it was easier, sometimes, to leave behind my fears and just do the things that I know my heart desires. To "recklessly love" without fear. The more I reflect on choosing to live as a religious, the more I realize that it is about "reckless abandonment" of myself to God - to love God with every fiber of my being because by loving God so completely I am more completely fulfilled, more completely myself.

The challenge for me right now is holding that knowledge close while the world around me says that happiness is found in all sorts of other ways, ways that are definitely not part of religious life.

Easter Blessings!

This (slightly blurry) image was taken at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris.

I am back home after a lovely Holy Week and Easter spent with the Sisters! I have to admit that the week was fantastic, more peaceful and happy than I expected.

It was simply... comfortable. I wouldn't say it was exciting, really, not the way a big vacation to a resort or to Disney World might be exciting. It was more like finding a comfortable place to spend some time, finding a community in which I could belong.

I learned a lot. I saw how four very strong women of different personalities and with different needs can live together in a community. We worked and prayed together, and talked. There was lots of laughter, giggling, and some tears! I am thankful for these women and the lives they live in service to the world. I am thankful (and humbled!) to have spend so much time with them.

There is more to say, but I cannot find the words. I pray for strength and courage to do what God has laid out ahead of me.

Lent is ending and Holy Week approaches!

I leave town tomorrow and will be gone until after Easter, to "live in" with a community of sisters for Holy Week. So, I may not have the opportunity to blog for a while.

As I go into this week, I'm a little nervous, but also excited. I'm nervous because I just don't know what to expect--I have to trust that the Holy Spirit will guide my heart into a deeper relationship with the community. I have all those "what if" questions going through my head--and I just have to ignore them! (What if they don't like me?) None of them are rational at all, but they still nag and pull me away from the more important thoughts.

But I'm excited too. I hope this weekend is a taste of the life that I seek. I hope to keep my heart open to the present moment. I hope to learn more about the community and about myself.

I also love Holy Week and Easter--this is my favorite season. This is the reason for our faith--without the Resurrection, everything else is pretty meaningless. But it is the pain and emotion leading to Easter that is so beautiful.

Isn't it a commentary on life in general? We cannot understand the beauty of our lives if we never experience the sadness that comes with it. How much sweeter is beauty, happiness, when it comes at great cost?

Please keep me in your prayers these weeks, as I will keep you in mine.

Sacred Heart of Jesus Icon

I've been looking for an image of the Sacred Heart that I liked, and I think I finally found one. This comes from Bridge Building Images Religious Cards and Gifts, and is from an artist named Nancy Oliphant.

There is just something about the traditional images of the Sacred Heart that turn me away--I think it is the overly emotive Jesus, with his pale face and light eyes. I know too much to expect Jesus to look like he's from Sweden. (Although I have Swedish in my heritage, I would rather an image of Jesus that is a little darker in complexion--more appropriate to his heritage.)

I like this image because of the dark-complexioned Jesus and because he looks strong. I want to say that his eyes are piercing also--like they look into me, and see me for who I am, with both good and bad traits. He looks a little sad, but not completely. He looks steady, like someone who is calm even in calamity.

Another aspect of this image that I like is the fire -- the tongues of flame that constitute his heart and the background of red, orange, and yellow. The heart like an explosion--flames that cannot be contained but most move outward. The fiery colors make me think of the fire of the holy Spirit, the fire which breathes life and love into each of us as we live in this world. Fire is a powerful image: it can light our path, warm our coldest hours, and cook our food. But it can also consume what lies in its path and cause great destruction and death. It's the power of all-consuming fire that is reigned in and used to fuel our love for God and compassion for others. So many of the mystics talk of the "fire of love" in their hearts--love that compels Christians to love God in return, and to love those around them.

I also like the mountains beneath Jesus. I grew up with mountains, and haven't lived in a mountainous place for many years. But they always make me think of the grandeur of creation, the greatness and beauty that God emanated into the created world

God Sees

from today's first reading:

"Yahweh does not see as mortals see;
they look on the outward appearance,
but Yahweh looks on the heart."

1 Sam 16:7

What does God see in your heart?

I can't even begin to express what I hope God sees in mine.

(image "borrowed" from oneyearbibleimages.com)