Our Grandma Who Art in Heaven

Two sisters from Mount St. Scholastica, Susan Barber and Bridget Dickason, recently went on a mission trip to San Antonio, Texas, to help care for teenage boys from Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala who are seeking refuge in the United States. One of the memorable stories relayed by Sr. Bridget was when a young teen handed her a note that said, “Grandma, we need shoes!”

Sr. Bridget and I are the same age, and neither one of us feels old enough to be a grandma! Although it’s a shock to realize we are indeed entering the “grandma generation,” it’s also touching that the boy who handed her the note had confidence that she would be able to help him. That’s who grandmas are—people you can turn to with your needs, with trust they’ll do the best they can to help you.

In that sense, it’s kind of a surprise that we don’t have an image of God as a grandma—provider of food, wisdom, comfort, and unfailing love. Perhaps that’s an image we can pray with when we need a supportive confidante—or even something as basic as new shoes when we’ve walked a long way seeking safety and freedom.

Plant Seed, Pull Weed

I spent a couple of hours outside today with two tasks in mind: to plant zinnia seeds in the small bed by the barn and weed around the blackberry bushes. As I was working, the title of a book I encoun-tered long ago popped into my head: Plant Seed, Pull Weed by Geri Larkin. Sometimes we make life very compli-cated, when it really comes down to planting seed that will bear good fruit and removing weeds that drain our energy and resources.

Planting seeds is an act of intention. I once heard a story in which a person asked a friend what he thought the coming year would bring. “It will bring flowers,” his friend said. “How do you know?” the man asked. “Because today I am planting flower seeds,” his friend responded. We will encounter what we welcome into our lives.

Sometimes, of course, God (and the birds that carry seeds hither and yon) gift us with some surprises. I discovered some lovely purple flowers by the black raspberry bushes that I hadn’t planted. Ultimately, we can prepare the soil, plant the seed, fertilize, weed, and water, but plants grow (or don’t) according to their own mysterious processes and purposes.

Gardening inevitably is an exercise in learning patience and humility, which led to another thought as I planted and weeded: I’m not sure I really trust people who aren’t gardeners. More often than not, I can count on people who garden to be humble, patient, well grounded, industrious, observant, generous, joyful, and peaceful. They know how to keep things simple: Plant seed, pull weed.

And You Visited Me

Although St. Benedict never met Sr. Maria Larkin, who died on May 25, 2021, he nonetheless wrote a chapter in his Rule that perfectly described one of her roles in the community. As he says in Chapter 27, “Concern of the Superior for the Excommunicated”: 

“The superior should show utmost care and concern for wayward members because ‘it is not the healthy who need a physician but the sick’ (Mt 9:12). Therefore, like a prudent physician, the superior ought to use every opportunity to send senpectae, that is, mature and wise members, to support the wavering ones, urge them to be humble as a way of making satisfaction, and console them, ‘lest they be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow’ (2 Cor 2:7). As the Apostle also says, ‘reaffirm your love for them’ (2 Cor 2:8).”

For many years, Sr. Maria walked daily from the Mount to the Atchison County jail to visit “the wayward” members of her extended community—that is, the Body of Christ—who were being held there. She brought them the word of Scripture along with the gospel according to Maria, expressed through her own care and concern for their spiritual and emotional health. She kept up a voluminous correspondence with prison inmates, who were touched by her prayer, her faith in God, and her conviction that with God’s loving support, they could repent and re-form their lives.

Sr. Maria’s ministry to those who were jailed was only one aspect of her life, of course. She was a master teacher who touched the lives of hundreds of students; an observant, artistic soul who was endlessly creative; a community member who was sensitive to the needs of her sisters; and a beloved daughter of God who radiated joy and good humor. Still, I find myself most moved by her devotion to those incarcerated, for as Jesus said, “I was in prison and you visited me”—and so few people do.

Being Benedictine in the 21st Century

This weekend I will participate in a Zoom conference called “Being Benedictine in the 21st Century,” which will explore how to live the Benedictine charism in our changing world. Participants have been invited to consider what it means to be monastic and how Benedictine values can be lived out both within and outside of monasteries. Interestingly, this conference is taking place as I prepare to ask the Mount community to support my request to make final vows.

For years I searched for the way that is most conducive to living with God as the center of my life. After spending time in communities that centered around school or ministry, in a parish community, and at Shantivanam House of Prayer in Easton, Kansas, I have discerned that living in a monastic community according to the Rule of St. Benedict offers me the best avenue to follow Christ wholeheartedly. The Rule provides a structured balance of prayer, communal life, and work achieved with the tools of humility, hospitality, a listening heart, stability, simple living, and a solid leadership model.

Living in a monastery isn’t the only way to follow the Rule of St. Benedict, of course; it just happens to be the best way for me to live out my vocation. Other people are finding ways to integrate Benedictine principles into their lives as oblates, hermits, scholars, and members of alternate communities. In a way, the people who are being Benedictine according to various models are like an ecosystem—different life forms that feed each other and energize each other with the common goal of sharing life with God. It’s an appealing vision of how we can live and thrive in the diverse and inclusive kingdom of God.

The Life That Is Waiting For Us

Around 8:15 am, I went outside to take a picture of some flowers and noticed that the area around the statue of Our Lady of Fatima needed to be hoed. I thought I’d better tackle that job while it was still cool, and then I noticed that weeds were growing up around Sr. Dolores’ gooseberry bushes and that bunches of dried leaves had collected around a rose bush. Two hours later I came inside, got cleaned up, and found a new e-mail message that required some research before I could respond. This is not at all what I had planned for my morning!

It is easy to become overwhelmed by all the tasks calling for our attention. Some people respond by making a “To Do” list and methodically working through it so they can accomplish as much as they can as efficiently as possible. This approach is effective, but it can prevent us from responding to needs and opportunities when they arise. As Joseph Campbell said, “We must be willing to give up the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Perhaps the life waiting for us is to listen to a friend who is distressed or to take a walk on the first sunny day in two weeks.

The good news is that, as St. Benedict said, “The Divine presence is everywhere.” Thus, no matter what we attend to throughout the day, we can be assured that we will be walking humbly with our God. Why, then, should we worry about how our day unfolds? Regardless of what we do, God is present, and it can’t get any better than that.

A Pentecost Call to Pay Attention

Blooming garlic scapes

Did you notice the movement of the Spirit on the Feast of Pentecost? Perhaps not, if you were looking for a rushing wind and tongues of fire. We have become conditioned to expecting a grand, dramatic entrance by the Spirit. The experience of the prophet Elijah teaches us otherwise, as described in 1 Kings 19:11-13:

“The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.”

It requires much more effort to be aware of God’s presence in a gentle whisper than in storms, earthquakes, and fires. You would think this would require that we follow Paul’s advice In 1 Thessalonians 5: 17 to “Pray without ceasing.” That certainly doesn’t seem feasible, but consider this statement by Mary Oliver in her poem The Summer Day: “I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention….”

The way to pray always, to constantly be open to experiencing the presence of God, is to pay attention, for as St. Benedict says in his Rule, “We believe that the Divine presence is everywhere.” We just need to train ourselves to look and listen, especially in unexpected places.

Yesterday I noticed the movement of the Spirit in the flick of our cat Joey’s tail, in garlic scapes that are blooming in our herb garden, and in the conviviality of sharing homemade pecan pie at dinner. How about you? Where did you experience the presence of the Spirit on her Feast Day?

Tag—You're It

The first letter of John says something curious: “If we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection in us” (1 Jn 4: 12).

Wait a minute! That seems to imply that God’s love isn’t perfect unless we love one another! How can that be?

Apparently, love isn’t brought to perfection until it expands in ever broader circles. Love has always been shared within the Trinity—Creator, Son, and Spirit—but such love could not be contained, so an ever-expanding universe was created. God loves us into being and then says, “Tag—you’re it!” In other words, as John says, “Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another” (1 Jn 4: 11).

The Holy Spirit is our guide in this quest to be a link in God’s desire to bring love to perfection. The fervor and joy of the disciples who first received the Spirit could not be contained, and the good news of Jesus the Christ spread rapidly throughout the world. Now it is our turn to be messengers of God’s love. We don’t need to travel to distant countries to do so; not only do we have the power of the World Wide Web at our disposal, but the people we encounter every day also need reminders of God’s everlasting love. If we find it difficult to reach out to them, we can pray to the Spirit to help us.

God, who has done so much for us, doesn’t need anything from us—but we can choose to offer this gift of helping to bring God’s love to perfection. It’s an honor to be part of this eternal chain of love.