A Gratis Lenten Practice

A useful word to meditate on during Lent is “gratis,” which has come to mean “without payment; free.” It comes from the Latin word gratia (grace, kindness).

Although the earliest documented use of the word gratis is in the year 1477, the practice of offering grace and kindness without cost has always existed, because it is part of the eternal nature of God.

In Scripture, God’s largesse is usually depicted in terms of the provision of food and water, such as during the Israelites’ 40 years in the desert and when Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes. However, God’s sustenance extends beyond our physical needs, as we are invited to share God’s very life. When the songwriter Samuel Lover wrote, “Come, live in my heart and pay no rent,” he could have taken these words directly from the mouth of God.

 

As we spend more time with God in prayer during Lent, we shouldn’t be surprised to find ourselves growing in the desire to be kind to others and give to them freely. We tend to become like those whose company we keep, so as we witness the generosity and mercy that God extends to us and to others, our own heart expands when we see the needs of others.

 

Our life comes to us gratis from our loving Creator. Although payment is not required, we can nonetheless express our gratitude by “paying it forward” through our own gratis acts of grace and kindness toward others.

The Lenten Practice of Shrinking

As Lent begins, I am contemplating the Jewish mystical concept called Tzimtzum, which means “contraction.” As Naomi Levy explains in her book Einstein and the Rabbi, “At the beginning of time the Creator filled every space. In order to bring the world into existence, the Creator had to willfully contract in order to make room for anything else. Creation was an act of love accomplished through the process of shrinking.”

Lent is a time when we, like our divine Creator, consciously choose to perform acts of love by shrinking:

• We choose to shrink the amount of time we spend working and entertaining ourselves by devoting more time to prayer. In this way, we recommit ourselves to the call to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.”

• We choose to shrink our appetites that lead to overconsumption through fasting. In this way, we demonstrate love for ourselves by becoming more physically and spiritually healthy, and we expand our love for others (“you shall love your neighbor as yourself”) by freeing up resources to meet their needs.

• We choose to shrink our storehouses of time and treasure through almsgiving. In this way, we demonstrate our trust that God’s abundance will continue to sustain us when we share our wealth with others, and we signal that we value others by sharing our time with them.

Many of us tend to “shrink from” Lent because we know it will require self-sacrifice. However, shrinking during Lent is a totally different matter, as Jesus himself showed; by practicing humility in service of God and others, we end up sharing in the abundant and eternal love of our Creator.

Gratitude for a Holy Presence

Sr. Miriam Schnoebelen, whose funeral Mass we celebrated on Saturday, taught me a lot about how to live as a Benedictine woman.

Although her inclination was to lead a contemplative life, Sr. Miriam was often on the move, living in four different communities at Guthrie, Tulsa, and Piedmont, Oklahoma, and Atchison, Kansas. She lived out her vow of stability not in the sense of physical location but in her commitment to her life of prayer and service. Over almost 75 years as a Benedictine, she served in an extraordinary number of ministries as a teacher, administrator, social worker, counselor, pastoral associate, and founder of the Benedictine Peace House in Oklahoma City. She balanced these highly responsible positions with a clown ministry that allowed her to express her impish humor and delight in the people she met.

By the time I met Sr. Miriam at Mount St. Scholastica, she was in her contemplative stage of life. She was quietly gracious and supportive, offering words of encouragement at just the right time, which is such a gift in communal life. She also modeled how to carve out space for quiet reflection — every morning when I entered the dining room, I would find her sitting alone in a holy zone of semi-darkness by the patio windows, eating slowly and taking in whatever scene nature laid out before her.

Having run for many years on the path of God’s commandments, Sr. Miriam welcomed death in the manner of St. Francis of Assisi, as a direct conduit to God whom she loved and longed for.

I remember Sr. Miriam with gratitude and hope I can follow her example of serving where called, being a supportive and affirming presence to others, making time for contemplation, and accepting death as the path to deeper union with God. Her memory is a blessing.

Hers Was the Greater Love

St. Scholastica lived an obscure life in Italy in the 5th/6th century. Why, then, are so many monasteries, churches, chapels, and schools named after her?

The only source of information we have about St. Scholastica is contained in a single story in the Dialogues of St. Gregory. St. Gregory reports that St. Benedict used to visit his sister, Scholastica, one day a year and that he would return to his monastery before nightfall. On the occasion of one visit, Scholastica enjoined her brother to continue their visit through the night, but he refused. Scholastica bowed her head and entreated God that her brother might stay with her, and a mighty storm arose that prevented Benedict from departing.

St. Gregory commented, “This wish of St. Benedict [to return to his monastery] was thwarted by a miracle almighty God performed in answer to a woman’s prayer. We need not be surprised that in this instance she proved mightier than her brother…. Do we not read in St. John that God is love? Surely it is no more than right that her influence was greater than his, since hers was the greater love.”

Hence St. Gregory provides the answer as to why St. Scholastica’s name continues to be so prominent more than 1500 years after her death. The memory of those who exhibited great love will echo through creation forever.

Viral Lessons in the Spiritual Life

A few weeks ago, almost three years after the COVID pandemic began, I was infected with the virus. Fortunately I had a relatively mild case, but a week in quarantine nonetheless provided time to reflect on some lessons I will take from this experience.

First, testing positive for the virus was humbling, as I realized I had harbored a reservoir of pride for being uninfected for so long. I have now joined the 676 million other people in the world who have been ill with COVID and have had to deal with unpleasant and sometimes life-threatening symptoms, the need to take time off from work and family responsibilities, and worry about long-term consequences of the virus. This experience has increased my compassion for others who have been affected by COVID and appreciation of my own human vulnerability.

Second, because I have access to a laptop computer and the internet, I continued to work several hours a day during my time of quarantine, despite feeling sick. This accessibility to technology led me to contemplate my relationship with work. Again, the issue of pride surfaced. Is my work so important that I can’t turn off the computer for a few days when I’m ill? Technology provides a tool for staying connected to others and for entertainment as well as for work, but it is my responsibility to make healthy decisions about how and when to use it.

Third, quarantining with other sisters helped me appreciate the support we receive in community. Those of us who tested positive for the virus were provided with a comfortable space in our guest quarters to recuperate, and meals were delivered to us three times a day. Sisters in the monastery sent cards and treats, and rather than feeling isolated, those of us in isolation built camaraderie by sharing stories of life in community, watching a KC Chiefs playoff game together, and offering each other sympathy and assistance. St. Benedict says in his Rule that care of the sick must come before all else, and being infected with the COVID virus allowed me to experience the blessing of that piece of wisdom.

Illness is a challenging aspect of being human, but as with most things we encounter in life, it can instruct us in the practice of humility, discernment, and gratitude.