Our Great Hope

Before he left office, when President Barack Obama was asked what gives him hope for the future, he said, “Young people.” After visiting with students at Notre Dame de Sion high school and St. Agnes Grade School in Kansas City on Tuesday of Catholic Schools Week, I can understand the reason for his optimism. These students are bright, inquisitive, engaging, interested in service, and open to listening to God’s call in their life.

I came away from the day with appreciation for the parents and teachers who devote so much of their time and attention to nurturing these young people who are bursting with energy and possibilities. I am grateful they are such good guides to those who will be our next policymakers, health care workers, judges, teachers, poets, and theologians.

If you need a dose of hope these days, I encourage you to hang out with some kids, teens, or college students. If you have time to do some mentoring, great—but ultimately, the most important thing for all of us to do is follow the lead of the next generation as they work to create a more compassionate and selfless world community that serves the entire Body of Christ. 

Monastic Adaptability

The main ministry of Mount St Scholastica traditionally has been teaching. However, as it became clear that fewer sisters would be available for the classroom, the community envisioned a new way to continue its teaching ministry by creating Keeler Women’s Center, where women are taught life skills in partnership with professional volunteers and nonprofit organizations. Thanks to this creative vision, thousands of women (and a number of men as well) now learn to read or speak English, prepare a household budget, manage health issues, receive counseling and spiritual direction, learn parenting skills, and receive many other services in a welcoming, hospitable environment.

Keeler Women’s Center is just one example of the Mount’s adaptability to changes within the community itself and in society. When Benedictine College consolidated on the North Campus, the Mount took Feeney Memorial Library and made it into a spirituality center. When Hemmen and Northman dormitories deteriorated to the point that they had to be torn down, the community planted a grove of trees dedicated to Mount St. Scholastica alumnae and Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Wangari Maathai. When solar energy production became feasible, the community installed panels on top of Dooley Center and Sophia Center and next to the grape vines.

St. Benedict couldn't have envisioned the radical change the world has undergone since he died in 547 AD. However, he served his followers well by modeling adaptability in his rule. I'm grateful to be part of a community that continues to find vital ways to serve and be good stewards of the earth in the midst of rapid change, while staying grounded in the ancient values of hospitality, humility, and discernment.

Embracing Chaos

Thomas Berry says that the universe itself is a wisdom text. One piece of wisdom that text relays is that chaos is a necessary step in the organization of the universe. As Susan Elizabeth Phillips notes, “If we want to embrace life, we also have to embrace chaos.”

Most of us have difficulty embracing chaos. We prefer the known because it is familiar and gives the illusion that we are in control. Ironically, the key to giving in to the chaos that brings life is to cling to just one thing: faith that God will lead us and lift us up through the companions who have been given to us.

This concept was illustrated in a short video clip I saw recently. A dog that appeared to be a black lab was being swept downstream by rushing water. Despite its predicament, it refused to let go of a large, stout stick it was holding in its mouth. As the black lab came around a bend, another dog standing on the bank, a golden retriever, grabbed hold of the end of the stick and used it to pull the black lab to safety. If we cling to faith in God and our companions as that dog clung to its stick, the chaos of life won’t sweep us away, and we will be brought to a new place.

Our society is in a great deal of chaos today, but as is the way of the universe, something new will be born out of it, and we will ultimately survive and thrive through faith in God who leads us and through our companions who accompany us.

The Light of Kindness

One of the bits of wisdom we acquire with age is well stated by Abraham Joshua Heschel: “When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.” How does the experience that comes with age lead us to value kindness? I believe it occurs when we come to understand, as Rev. John Watson said, “Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

Recently, the movie Manchester By the Sea reminded me of that important truth. At first the main character is a puzzle because, although he is young, attractive, and healthy, he chooses to isolate himself, has no desire to better his life, and is practically noncommunicative. Only later do we learn that he is carrying an immense grief that has crippled him.

We often don’t know what the people around us are wrestling with—it might be sadness about a death that occurred years ago, the resurfacing of an addiction, regrets about what might have been, depression stemming from maltreatment in childhood, or the diminishment that comes with aging. Therefore, when we encounter people whose behavior puzzles or irritates us, we need to train ourselves to respond with kindness, which is manifested as patience, compassion, and presence. As all of us can attest, kindness is sometimes the only light that can reach us when we are immersed in our battles to let go, to trust, and to forgive.

Building a Bridge to Justice

When I lived in St. Louis, I had numerous opportunities to attend concerts by the folk singers John McCutcheon and Charlie King. They always included a few old union songs in their repertoire, such as this one:

            Step by step the longest march can be won, can be won

             Many stones can form an arch, singly none, singly none

             And by union what we will can be accomplished still

             Drops of water turn a mill, singly none, singly none

I thought of this song as I gathered with 8000 or so people at Washington Square Park on Saturday to advocate for the rights of women and their families to earn a just wage, have affordable heath care, be protected from sexual harassment and assault, and live peacefully in the United States no matter their race, religion, or country of origin.

Throughout U.S. history, protest movements have generally been led by people of vision, such as Martin Luther King Jr. and the suffragettes Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Alice Paul. However, they weren’t able to achieve change on their own. The voices and actions of many, many people are required to achieve human rights.

We who are members of the Body of Christ recognize that what affects one of us affects us all. If I have health insurance but many of my brothers and sisters do not, the entire body is weakened. In our society, it has been shown time and again that when we stand together, we can change systems and help meet the needs of those who have been marginalized and disenfranchised. Many members of the Body of Christ can build a bridge to justice … singly, none.

How Prayer Works

I once heard it said that the most useless things in life are the most valuable, which certainly applies to prayer. Time spent in prayer might appear to wasted because often it does not seem to produce measurable results. That notion was refuted by Pope Francis, who said, “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That’s how prayer works.” However, the value of prayer extends beyond moving us to action.

People who pray are keepers of the truth that all people and all creation are beloved of God. In my study as a postulant, I am learning that people who pray the psalms become the voice of all creation and that we pray in the name of the entire Body of Christ. Thus persons who aren’t able to pray themselves, including the sick, dying, exploited, or oppressed, are given a voice in our prayer. It is a matter of witness, of upholding the truth, of validating the dignity of all people, and of providing hope.

Part of the reason I joined the Mount was my belief that the ancient monastic traditions are valuable and even critical to the survival and well being of humankind, and that at least some people need to devote themselves to practicing those traditions of prayer, community, and hospitality. I shouldn’t expect others to do it if I’m not willing to do it myself.

Fr. Hilary Ottensmeyer said, “Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer.” As I continue on the path of postulancy, I’m becoming more convinced, and I am grateful that the Mount is so generously nurturing my practice of prayer.

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Finding My Voice

I was a shy child—it took me a long time to “find my voice.” Even now, when I get sick, the illness often starts with a sore throat. Clearly, this is a vulnerable area for me. It’s interesting, though, how God works through our vulnerabilities. The way I found my voice was through writing, which is now one of my strengths. I was also given many opportunities to practice public speaking when I was a parishioner at St. Cronan in St. Louis, and now I am comfortable in front of a microphone. Although it goes against our instincts, working with our vulnerabilities can lead us to discover our greatest gifts.

Lately I have been studying the practice of lectio divina. First, I read a chapter on sacred reading in the book Monastic Practices by Charles Cummings, in which he recommends reading scripture aloud and slowly. Then I watched a video on lectio divina by Sr. Lucy Wynkoop, who recommends that we “read the text aloud, slowly, vocalizing words to engage the lips, eyes, and ears, letting the sound of the words hum within us and letting our throats and lungs sustain our breath.” Then I read in A Book of Wonders by Edward Hays, “If Christians, as well as Muslims, Jews, and Buddhists, wish to find the treasures hidden in their sacred texts, they should read them slowly and aloud, as if they were children once again.… What you read aloud, hear as being spoken to you exclusively by the Divine Author of all holy books.”

Because I received these three instructions in the course of just two days, I’m inclined to believe I am now being called to use my voice in my lectio practice. I’m sure it will feel odd at first. However, it appears that the call to work with the vulnerability of my voice—and, in turn, my other vulnerabilities as well—is going to be a lifelong process!