God Is Like a Blackberry Vine

I once wrote a poem comparing God to a zucchini plant that can pop up anywhere, including in a compost pile, and produces abundant fruit. Now that we are starting to pick black raspberries, I am realizing that God can also be compared to these vines. Why? Like God’s love, black raspberry roots (rhizomes) spread rapidly right under our feet, though we often aren’t aware of it until a new plant emerges with its promise of fruitfulness. Just as God is relational, many different plants arise from the same underground network of roots. Furthermore, totally uprooting black raspberries is practically impossible because the roots reach so far; similarly, God’s love is inescapable, because where God is there is love, and God is everywhere.

Sisters Alberta Hermann and Barbara Smith and I transplanted our new black raspberry plants from my former house in Leavenworth, and they are flourishing at the Mount; just so, God’s love follows us around, no matter where we transplant ourselves. Finally, when we take root in God’s love, we bear so much fruit that we don’t even begrudge sharing with the birds (who have their own role in spreading the seed).

In the face of black raspberries and of God, the operative word is “surrender”—an especially important spiritual practice for me as a novice, but a lifetime challenge for all of us. Surrender to the newness of what God is doing, though it may prick at times; surrender to the demands of participating in God’s love; and, yes, surrender to the delights of blackberry cobbler and jam! 

Beginning the Novitiate

Just before I formally entered the novitiate, I attended a conference by Franciscan Sister Ilia Delio entitled “God, Evolution, and the Unfinished Self.” Sr. Ilia is a scientist and a theologian who is exploring and building on the groundbreaking work of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Here are just a few of the concepts she touched on:

• Matter is not building blocks but webs of relations

• The nature of the universe is undivided wholeness

• God is always doing new things; life ceaselessly begins anew because God is ever newness in love

• Our task is to awaken to the love that is already at the center of our life

• We make a difference to the eternal God

• The mystics show that we need silence, solitude, and surrender to create a place in us for

God to dwell

It all can seem overwhelming … but then, on Saturday night, I stood before the Mount community and asked to be received into the novitiate so I may seek God in the spirit of St. Benedict and serve God with the sisters of Mount St. Scholastica. The sisters in turn promised to support me during the novitiate year. As the poet Jane Hirshfield says, “Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.” I feel that immensity tapping, but the call of St. Benedict to listen, pray, and live in community grounds me. Participating in God's life is surely awesome, and yet the day-to-dayness of prayer and relationship makes it possible for us to respond softly and calmly out of love. It’s going to be a wonderful year! 

Lessons from a Monastic Elder

Because we celebrate the funeral mass for Sr. Brendan Fry today, morning prayer began at 7:00 instead of 6:30 am. I could have used the extra half hour in a number of ways, but talked myself into taking a 20-minute walk, and was rewarded for my efforts with a fox sighting near the service entrance at U street. The animal regarded me from a distance for quite a while before trotting off under some trees.

Seeing the fox helped me meditate on the life of Sr. Brendan, who performed a variety of ministries at the Mount during her 75 years in community, including subprioress, teacher, principal, sacristan, transportation director, and laundry supervisor. Foxes are known for being loyal, patient, and persistent, and their adaptability allows them to fit into any situation. They are keen observers and are skilled at remaining unnoticed. Sr. Brendan certainly used all those qualities in her service to the community; how many of us at the Mount check the bulletin board for messages, go to mass, request a car, or use clean towels without noticing the dedication and behind-the-scenes work performed day after day by the subprioress, sacristan, transportation coordinator, or laundry supervisor?

I also suspect that through the fox, Sr. Brendan was giving me some clues about how to approach the novitiate. Foxes are comfortable with silence and solitude and can use the art of camouflage to fit into various situations. According to a spirit animal Web site, when adjusting to a new living situation, foxes can “be a signal to open your eyes, so that you can see the situation for what it is—not as you wish it to be.” Furthermore, foxes remind us to be fluid and adaptable, and to recognize that we have all the resources and tools we need for a given challenge. Lest I miss the message, when I checked my mailbox this morning I found a free calendar from the Nature Conservancy—with a picture of a fox and her kit on the cover.

I’m grateful for the monastic lessons that Sr. Brendan provided—and continues to provide—through her life of service and prayer at the Mount!

Hiding Places of Spirit

Fr. Richard Rohr has noted, “Matter is, and has always been, the hiding place for Spirit, forever offering itself to be discovered anew.” I recently encountered an excellent example of this truth during my pre-novitiate retreat at the Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in Clyde, Missouri.

As Sr. Sean Douglas gave me a tour of the community grounds, she noted that in 2011 a hail storm shattered dozens of windows, including some stained glass windows that were almost a century old. Sisters and volunteers (including some from the Mount) collected the shards of glass, which Sr. Sean now uses to make stained glass sun catchers and candle holders. Instead of being buried in a landfill, this glass that once led people into prayer continues to catch the spark of the Spirit, reflecting its light.

In the midst of a throw-away society, treasuring creation by treating it with reverence is an important Christian witness. May we put on the eyes of children in a perpetual game of hide and seek as we uncover the hiding places of Spirit in the smallest shards of the world around us! 

Being Open to Invitation

Sr. Esther Fangman, the newly elected prioress of Mount St. Scholastica, told us that she has learned to say yes to daunting tasks and roles that are set before her because they always end up being a blessing.

Learning to cooperate with the Spirit in this way is a great life lesson. In the past, when I wanted something badly and pursued it actively—such as when I longed to be a staff member at Shantivanam House of Prayer in my 20s—it didn’t work out, at least according to my timetable. Instead, other experiences were unexpectedly offered to me, such as living in St. Louis, where I was introduced to a marvelous parish community and developed close and loving friendships. It wasn’t until I was age 40 that I joined the staff at Shantivanam, at a time when I had more to offer and especially needed the peace and wisdom of the forest as I cared for my aging parents.

The invitation of the Spirit to join the Mount community at age 54 years was certainly a daunting prospect, but I knew that saying yes was the right response, even though it meant upending my life. With our limited human insight, we don’t always know what will lead us to fullness of life, but being open to the invitations that are placed before us will guide us in walking on God’s pathway. I am grateful that Sr. Esther said yes to being prioress—I know she will be a blessing to us, and I pray that we will be a blessing to her!

Monasticism Today

As we elect a new prioress at Mount St. Scholastica, it is interesting to think about the challenges of living a monastic life in 2017 as opposed to the years 480-543, when saints Benedict and Scholastica lived. It seems that disparities between rich and poor, as well as turmoil in society because of greed and corruption, will always be with us. However, today we have the added challenges of climate change, globalization, and weapons of mass destruction to contend with. What can monasticism offer in times such as these?

One witness of monasticism that is important in any age is the honor and respect that is accorded each person, no matter their place in society or personal wealth. In the monastery everyone is expected to work and pray, and no one is granted special favors, with exceptions made only for those who are weak because of illness or advanced age. Furthermore, when it comes time to elect an abbot or prioress, care is taken that everyone’s voice is heard and considered. How much closer would we be to living in the kingdom of God if we treated everyone in society this way?

Monasticism also offers an increasingly important witness to humility—that, is recognizing our place and role in God’s universe. Monastic communities are good stewards of the earth, providing a counterbalance to those who exploit and damage the planet to enrich themselves. In addition, humility gives us a realistic understanding of our own strengths and weaknesses—an important characteristic of both the abbot/prioress and each member in healthy communities.

Finally, monasticism today offers a model of how to live generative lives and be a peaceful presence in an often chaotic world. I believe saints Benedict and Scholastica would be pleased that the model they provided for living the good life is still practiced and bearing fruit. May our way be blessed in the coming years!

Knocking at the Door

The Rule of St. Benedict says, “Do not grant newcomers to the monastic life an easy entry”; rather, Benedict instructs that they must knock at the door for four or five days before being admitted. Today, “knocking at the door” could be translated as “writing a letter asking permission to enter,” which I have done twice thus far at the Mount: once when I asked to become a postulant and most recently when I asked to enter the novitiate. This week, the community granted my latest request, and I will become a novice on June 24.

Voicing and persisting in our prayer instills patience, helps us practice discernment, and reminds us to examine how our desires affect others in the body of Christ. We should be bold rather than timid in our requests, for God wants us to have life to the full—and we can trust that if our own desires won’t lead to fullness of life, God will lead us down another path.

I know that the restrictions of the novitiate will be challenging, but at the same time, I am grateful for the gift of the canonical novice year to focus on prayer, study, immersion in the community, and time with God. As the Mount saw fit to grant my request, I now pray that the coming year will lead to fullness of life for all of us!

Invoking the Holy Spirit

It is difficult to find images to portray the Holy Spirit—generally, we settle on flames, a dove, or the effects of breath/wind. Ironically, although the Spirit is challenging to portray, we have no doubt when she is present, because we experience a sense of wonder, well-being, and joy in the face of the marvelous workings of God.

Desiderius Erasmus said, “Bidden or unbidden, God is always present.” In the case of this week’s election of a new prioress at Mount St. Scholastica, the Spirit is definitely bidden. Since the beginning of the year, members of the community have been offering this prayer: “Loving and merciful God, send us your spirit of wisdom as we discern the election of a prioress for our monastic community. Open our hearts and mind to your will. Grant us courage to accept the challenges of our future with hope and trust in you.” In addition, starting on January 23, we prayed every day for an individual community member by name, starting with the oldest in rank, Sr. Brendan Fry, and concluding with me on June 2. (Although I am not eligible to vote for the new prioress, I will be present for the discernment process.)

The Holy Spirit has been invited—now we need to be open to her promptings. Because we have prepared our hearts, we are more likely to be able to trust in her guidance. Any time the Spirit is invoked, we should prepare to be amazed—and so we anticipate a grace-filled week!

Growing Toward the Sun

Lately I have observed that some of the peonies in the cemetery are stretching as far as possible to escape the shade of our stately fir trees and reach the sunlight. They don’t care if they grow crooked as a result; their sole objective is to reach the sun.

Likewise, I believe, humans grow toward the light, even when they are planted in a less than desirable location. I’m mindful of an inmate in our Bethany Catholic faith group at Lansing Correctional Facility who endured abuse as a child, committed a serious crime as an adult, and has been incarcerated more than 30 years. The other night, when asked how he experiences the power of God in his life, he replied, “I feel joy every morning that I’ve been given a new day of life, and I feel at peace about whatever the day brings. That’s only possible through the power of God.” I thought to myself that few people in the world have achieved such insight, let alone someone who has been in prison more than half his life. Furthermore, I don’t believe he would have gained this insight without the fidelity of the Bethany volunteers who have accompanied him on his faith journey week after week for more than 20 years.

Generally, it’s not easy to be with people who have been hurt and “grow crooked” as a result. However, if we can hang in there and help them find the light, the transformation they achieve is an awesome source of grace and a reminder that God’s love is always available, even to the crooked—that is, to all of us.