Things That Matter

This year as we celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I am especially mindful of the following statement he made: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” Think about that: speaking out about things that matter is so important that our lives begin to end if we do not do so. It was in this spirit that Protestant pastor and peace activist Martin Niemöller famously said,

               

               First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

               Because I was not a Socialist.

               Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—

               Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

               Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—

               Because I was not a Jew.

               Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Truly, as it says in the Rule of St. Benedict, “Death and life are in the hands of the tongue (RB 6:5).

I’m reminded of the scene in the movie Spartacus when Roman soldiers were seeking the rebel and his supporters refused to identify him, each saying in turn, “I am Spartacus!” Because we are united with all people in the Body of Christ, when those in power attempt to oppress or discriminate against our brothers and sisters, we are called to say, “I am an immigrant!” “I am transgender!” “I am handicapped!”

Psalm 34:13 says, “Which of you desires life and longs to see good days?” If we hear this and respond, “I do!” then we need to heed the words of Dr. King and speak out about the things that matter—especially justice for all people.

Proverbs from the Monastery

In one of my new classes, we are starting our study of wisdom literature class with the book of Proverbs. Sr. Mary Irene suggested that we try our hand at writing our own proverbs, so here are some from a postulant’s perspective:

• A journey of a thousand miles begins … on the walk from Marywood to the monastery.

• All good things must … be shared.

• Better late than … explaining to your formation director why you missed prayers.

• Don’t judge a book … until it’s been reviewed in Benedictines magazine.

• Don’t put all your eggs … into the hotzelbrot.

• If you can’t beat them … pray for them.

• There is no such thing as … too many pecans.

• Practice makes … the schola director happy.

• Keep your friends close, and your enemies … confined to your mirror.

• When in Rome … visit the abbot primate.

• You can’t always get … a soft-boiled egg for breakfast.

• If you want something done right … ask a sister to do it.

May the wisdom of Sts. Benedict and Scholastica be with you today!

God Does Not Leave Us Comfortless

Recently, the brother of a Mount sister died unexpectedly, and the way the community responded was instructive. Although the wake on Monday night and the funeral on Tuesday morning took place in a town two hours away, three carloads of sisters traveled to the wake and two carloads traveled to the funeral. Providing support and comfort to a sister and her family far outweighed any concerns of distance, time, or inconvenience.

As with all the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, presence is key. Sometimes we feel like we don’t have any words of comfort to offer those who are grieving. However, by simply showing up, we reveal God’s presence and compassion, and often we experience an affirmation of God’s presence ourselves. To those of us traveling to the funeral, this affirmation happened in a dramatic fashion when a “sun dog”—a small, vertical rainbow to the side of the sun—appeared in the sky. It was breathtaking, and we wouldn’t have seen it if we hadn’t made the trip.

The occasion reminded me of the ending of the poem Let Evening Come by Jane Kenyon, in which the word “evening” could easily be a stand in for “death”:

                                                Let it come, as it will, and don’t

                                                be afraid. God does not leave us                                                                            comfortless, so let evening come.

The Epiphany of Baptism

At evening prayer on the Feast of Epiphany at the Mount, we prayed the following Magnificat antiphon:

Three mysteries mark this holy day:

today the star leads the Magi to the infant Christ;

today water is changed into wine for the wedding feast;

today Christ is baptized by John in the river Jordan to bring us salvation.

In the past, I had never linked these three events as all being epiphanies of who Jesus was—the Anointed One who came to show us God’s love and mercy. We humans, with our limited understanding and insight, have been given many signs to open our eyes to God’s presence in the world through the person of Jesus.

This realization led me to muse on the epiphanies of our own lives—how is who we are revealed to the world? Accordingly, I decided that my obituary in its entirety should read as follows:

           Jennifer Jane Halling, daughter of Luke and Dolores Halling, was born

on March 19, 1962, and baptized on April 1, 1962, at Sacred Heart

Church in Ottawa, Kansas.

For Christians, our baptism fundamentally reveals who we are—persons who believe that God is the Holy One, that Jesus is the Word made flesh and the model for how we can live our lives, and that the Holy Spirit is at work in our midst. Once that revelation of who we are occurs, the remaining details of our life are superfluous, for no matter what work we do, what vows we take, or who we enter into relationship with, the focus of our life is to be an instrument of God’s love, compassion, and mercy. Thus, the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus provides us with yet another epiphany: that the day of our own baptism is a cause for commemoration and celebration, along with our birthday and name day! 

Epiphany and the "Whatness" of Jesus

On Sunday we celebrate the feast of the Epiphany, when three wise men affirmed the kingship of Jesus by bringing him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The writer James Joyce used the word epiphany to mean the "revelation of the whatness of a thing." Certainly, the three wise men revealed one aspect of the “whatness” of Jesus—his kingship—though it was not an earthly but a heavenly kingship beyond their imagination.

Joyce also used the word epiphany to describe the moment when “the soul of the commonest object […] seems to us radiant. Consequently, for those of us who have experienced the epiphany that God’s spirit infuses all of creation and that we are all part of the body of Christ, everything we encounter should be radiant. Why is this not so? The writer Terry Pratchett offers a possible explanation: “It’s a popular fact that 90 percent of the brain is not used, and, like most popular facts, it is wrong…. It is used. One of its functions is to make the miraculous seem ordinary, to turn the unusual into the usual. Otherwise, human beings, faced with the daily wondrousness of everything, would go around wearing a stupid grin, saying, ‘Wow,’ a lot. Part of the brain exists to stop this from happening.” 

As Emily Dickinson said, "The truth dazzles gradually, or else the world would be blind." The feast of Epiphany is an annual reminder to open ourselves a bit more to the "whatness" of Christ and allow this truth to radiate in our very extraordinary day-to-day lives.

Celebrating Christmas at the Monastery

The fact that monastic life follows a different rhythm than the rest of the world becomes very apparent at Christmas. Most people begin celebrating the Christmas season the week after Thanksgiving, with holiday parties beginning in early December, and by December 26—or, at least, by New Year’s Day—they are ready to take down the tree and be done with celebrating. In the monastery, on the other hand, the weeks leading up to December 25 are devoted to the reflective season of Advent, and the Christmas season is celebrated from December 25 until the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which in the year 2017 is celebrated on January 9.

After 54 years of being immersed in secular holiday rhythms, I have needed to adjust to the monastic practice of giving Advent my full attention and extending the Christmas season long into the new year; in addition, I have learned the various traditions associated with celebrating Christmas at the Mount (hutzelbrot, anyone?). My decision to enter the monastery reflected a desire to approach life differently, but as Christine Valters Paintner notes, that desire has consequences: “Our intention is to see things from a new perspective, but the paradox is that this longing requires us to relinquish our usual ways of relating to the world.” This year, to my regret, it was necessary for me to relinquish a traditional Christmas breakfast with family and time visiting close friends in St. Louis during the holiday season. On the other hand, after spending Advent and Christmas at the Mount, I have a greater appreciation for the immensity of the incarnation and its implications and thus a deeper sense of peace in spite of the turbulence in the world.

Rather than being ready for Christmas to end, it now seems right to extend our celebration of such a momentous occasion in human history—the coming of the Bread of Life and Hope of the World. So, until next Monday, I continue to wish you a Merry Christmas!

Wakefulness of Spirit

The beginning of a new year is a natural time for self-examination and initiation of positive changes. I usually make a few New Year’s resolutions, but my commitment is often lacking, and my resolutions generally fade quickly. This year, I thought it might help to reframe my resolutions with the goal of increasing my “wakefulness of spirit,” a phrase Mark Nepo uses in The Book of Awakening. With that in mind, here are my goals for the new year:

• To be more awake to the spirit of the Mount community and the opportunities and challenges awaiting us in the coming years, I will recite our “Prayer for the Election of a New Prioress” daily.

• To be more awake to the spirit of words, I will memorize a new poem every month in 2017.

• To be more awake to the spirit of creativity, I will read a passage each day from A Book of Wonders by one of the most creative people I’ve ever known, Fr. Edward Hays.

• To be more awake to the spirit of a healthy body, I will cut down on my sugar intake and practice tai chi several times a week.

• To be more awake to the spirit of prayer, I will commit to a regular practice of lectio divina.

At the end of January, I’ll evaluate whether my wakefulness of spirit has increased and let you know how I’m doing!