The 30-Day Praying with Refugees Online Retreat begins November 1st! Sponsored by the Jesuit Refugee Service, the Online Retreat is an opportunity to join with refugees and misplaced persons in prayer through the tradition of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It is available in four languages. Please join us in prayer.
Mother Cabrini, patroness of immigrants, Pray for us!
Last night, I had the distinct pleasure of Skype-ing with Gina, Mary, and Clare. They're at the Mission Conference in Albuquerque, NM, and asked why this reflection had not been posted online yet. :) Clare had shared it with her missioners in South America after my classmate Megan had forwarded it to her. So here it is! I wrote it while remembering Salsa dancing nights in NYC with Mary and Crys! :) The reflection is one that I shared at our Opening Prayer Service for the graduate students in the Theology program at Villanova. I, along with a second year named Rachel (who is also from St. Louis!), shared reflections on the Scripture Reading (Revelations 21:1-5) and our theme of "Peace Within New Beginnings."
Opening Prayer Service
Peace Within New Beginnings Reflection
2 September 2010
Michelle Sherman: First Year Student
“Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God.”
When I read this particular this verse, themes that spoke to me were community, peace, call, and salsa dancing… ultimately, peace within new communities. And here’s why.
Have you ever tried to salsa dance with yourself? … I admit that I have (when learning from YouTube video’s), and it is not fun—in fact, it is the opposite of fun! We need each other. In this verse, the writer emphasizes the community: “He will dwell with THEM and THEY will be his people and God himself will always be with THEM as their God.” This intimate dwelling-space, therefore, is not in isolation, but within community. As Dorothy Day stressed, “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”
In regard to salsa dancing: every now and then, there will be a dance partner that just “clicks.” Movement is easy and natural with all the right flair and perfect timing. One leads and lets the follower know what is coming next, while the follower trusts: perfect teamwork. Likewise, some communities naturally gel together: the personality types compliment each other, values are shared or are highly respected in their differences, openness abounds, and working styles flow together – the stars align and all is right with the world. This mostly happens in an ideal world, which is to say, not very often.
More often than not; however, dancing includes an almost socially awkward phase of adjusting to your partner. One partner’s stride is longer, this one is dancing On Two (New York style) instead of the more common On One, or so-and-so throws in a Cuban move and I have no idea what is going on. But as long as I’m open to making mistakes and learning within the stumbling and stepping on toes, we’ll be alright in the end and learn much in the process. In the same way, new spaces with new people require openness to that awkward transition period: recognizing our own unique perceptions and background experiences and honoring the “otherness” of different traditions, practices, and ways of thought. We must ask: What keeps the communion of saints in communion with each other? It is not the same degree of “liberalism,” “conservativism,” or “moderation.” I recently read a poem from Thomas Aquinas where he states the answer to this question: “First, we need to know that we are all madly in love with the same God.” Let us remember that there grace within all situations: even the sticky ones that make us uncomfortable – that’s the Spirit moving us to grow!
Peace within the transitions and awkward stages of adjustment is possible, especially when seen through the lens of call. Out of all the graduate programs in the country, for theology, religious studies, and/or ministry… we came here. We’ve been called. This is in no way saying that we are better than those called to other institutions, but a simple affirmation of our journey. So let us above all be gentle with ourselves. In these experiences of dancing, as with building a new community, patience and a sense of humor greatly assist the transitions for us as the birth of a new community takes shape.
So let us remember that in this new community—we trust that we are right where we need to be, those around us have much to teach us—especially the hospitable and knowledgeable second-year students, and as the ultimate salsa dance partner God leads and “goes before us always.” Remember that, as Henri Nouwen wrote: “In everything, keep trusting that God is with you, and that God has given you companions on your journey.”
Went to the 12:05 Mass in Corr Chapel today. I love that chapel. Although the wood chairs are far from comfortable and it's always cold, I appreciate the simplicity and the centrally located altar. Before today's Liturgy, Br. Mike asked if I would be open to reading (which I was). Today was not the greatest of days, emotionally speaking, though, and I felt myself faltering during the Responsorial Psalm. Fr. Laird presided, and I am always moved dangerously close to tears during his homilies-- except today, when the floodgates were opened! He spoke of Therese finding peace and God's presence in the mundane, Mother Theresa's dark night of the soul that lasted for 49 years, and a friend of his who is a Baptist Minister and is currently struggling with breast cancer.
Cue tears. For the rest of the celebration, I was taking deep breaths (inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 8, exhale for 4 seconds... just like Crys and Mary and I learned in the "Relax, Let Go, Release, & Surrender" Workshop!), doing the subtle tear-brush, and wondering why I left my tissues in my backpack (which was all the way in the vestibule of the chapel).
After Mass, I said a quick hello to a few people, as I desperately needed to get some air and some Kleenex STAT! I ran into my office that is in the same building as the chapel to grab a file and then stepped back outside, where a fellow Theology student asked how I was. Invitation to a conversation? Sometimes that's all I need. Everything from feeling overwhelmed, to my Mother's medical condition, to guilt, to missing community living, to mourning the loss of a Villanova student this past week, to transitioning came out. Processing sesh? Oh yeah.
Which lead me later to reflect on how much listening and sharing is part of The Little Way: Attentive to the surroundings and finding the whispers of the Spirit in those opportunities for conversations. Just like in this previously posted blog entry. (http://ledbyjoy.blogspot.com/2010/08/joy-paying-attention.html)
“Each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read, I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without composing beautiful sentences, and He always understands me. For me, prayer is an aspiration of the heart, it is a simple glance directed to heaven, it is something great, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites me to Jesus.”
"As you identify less and less with the "me", you will be more at ease with everybody and with everything. Do you know why? Because you are no longer afraid of being hurt or not liked. You no longer desire to impress anyone. Can you imagine the relief when you don't have to impress anybody anymore? Oh, what a relief. Happiness at last!"
Easier said than done, for sure. And perhaps it is especially difficult for us raised with the Western idea of self, and Americans in general. I remember going to a speaker who said that the top-selling magazines in America in the 90's went from People to Us to Self. So identifying less and less with the "me" can surely be a struggle-- which we can address and overcome in many ways: reflection, service ("The greatest way to find yourself is to lose yourself in service to others." -Ghandi), and being mindful of our connectedness and inter-dependency with others. (Reading Rahner for my Foundations class and last night's portion included "Man as Dependent.") Anyway, the lost art of conversation as a tool to identify with our connectedness has been on my mind recently.
Conversations with others has been especially fruitful for me the past two weeks. I found myself completely mesmerized by sharing and openness during one, that I even missed the 12:05 Mass in Corr Chapel @ Villanova-- but I don't think Jesus minded. We were talking about him, anyway-- and "where two or more are gathered...." :)
Conversations in my check-out line of Trader Joe's are of particular delight to me. Some are hysterically funny: for example, the customer who taught her son how the Fox Trot while waiting for the person in front of her to pay via credit card. As I was scanning and bagging their groceries, we talked about the Charleston and even had an impromptu session on Salsa and my passionate love for Bachata. So good. During my first day on the register, a customer grabbed my arm while I was scanning her garbanzo beans, and said, "I'm sorry-- but you are so beautiful! And so happy!" I laughed and replied: "I just have a lot to be happy about." She responded, "That's beautiful-- you have so much to be happy about." I wish I could have engaged in a longer conversation, but during my break, I reflected that I hope I didn't come off as being arrogant, but really, in an attempt to live with an attitude of abundance and gratitude, I try (but still sometimes fail) to see and trust that all will be well (kudos to my girl Julian of Norwich).
Because in an attitude of abundance, we come to the realization that whatever comes our way are opportunities to love. Jesus came that we may have life, and have it in abundance. (John 10:10. Word.) And by resting in this truth of being the children of the Lord, we identify less with the "me" and more with the Christ who increases within us (John 3:30).
I love this image of de Mello because of his joy-- not just the smile, but you can tell he is someone who--at the moment this image was captured-- does not feel the need to impress. He is simply himself: free, happy, madly in love with his Creator.
Note to the Reader: So believe it or not, this blog entry started out as a reflection on being socially awkward... complete with a diagram of the "Awkward Turtle" hand motion... but the more I wrote, the more this came about... so the reflection on social awkwardness will have to wait. ;)
If I have found my joy (my full joy) in the Lord, then I do not need to cling to the affirmation or appreciation or gratitude of others. I only need to share with them the Joy I have found – and to rejoice in their finding it also. - Fr. Thomas Green, SJ
Affirmation is in itself not a bad thing-- it's a pretty fabulous thing! We yearn for affirmation at a social and interpersonal level: it validates the affirmed and allows those giving the affirmation to grow in attentiveness and gratitude. The problem is that I've recognized in myself the craving for affirmation -- especially in the midst of transition: new city, new life shift back to student, new living situation from community to roommates, two new jobs, new demographic of peers, new sports teams to cheer for (haha!)... But for real: With all these changes, I find myself clinging to any positive reinforcement like my life depends on it.
I think Henri Nouwen and I would be good friends. He struggled with this as well. I remember reading somewhere that after he died, L'Arche founder Jean Vanier said that Henri Nouwen was "incredibly beautiful, incredibly intelligent, incredibly kind, incredibly good... and incredibly needy. He had all this excess in him.... He gave out so much, his need was so great and we couldn't always fulfill his needs." Yes, I think Henri [pronounced "Onri"] and I would have lots to talk about being God's beloved and finding our identity in that space.
Henri with Peter Rotterman.
So as a "2" on the Enneagram Personality Test, I often find myself needing the affirmation of others-- it's just how we roll. If I don't receive a word of thanks or affirmation, I'll wonder: What did I do wrong? What wasn't good enough? I really messed up that one. Fr. Martin Laird, OSA (the professor who teaches my Spirituality of the Desert Mothers and Fathers course here at Villanova) calls this tendencies "mind tripping." We trip over our constant chatter and self-critical thoughts-- these are not of the Spirit. In fact, I think Henri had some thoughts in talking of blaming ourselves-- it leads us to idealize others and become wrapped up in a cycle of self-rejecting thoughts. He writes:
Self-blame is not a form of humility. It is a form of self-rejection in which you ignore or deny your own goodness and beauty.
Every time you reject yourself, you idealize others. You want to be with those whom you consider better, stronger, more intelligent, more gifted than yourself. Thus you make yourself emotionally dependent, leading others to feel unable to fulfill your expectations and causing them to withdraw from you. This makes you blame yourself even more, and you enter a dangerous spiral of self-rejection and neediness.
Avoid all forms of self-rejection. Acknowledge your limitations, but claim your unique gifts and thereby live as an equal among equals. That will set you free from your obsessive and possessive needs and enable you to give and receive true affection and friendship.
This drive for affirmation, I feel, has led me in the past to spaces where I adjusted myself to an expectation in order to fulfill that need. So when I attach myself too firmly to the positive feedback, I've noticed that I will sometimes adjust the way I present myself to conform to what is expected. For example, while discerning religious life, I'd receive so much affirmation from lay, religious, and ordained people that I suppose part of me felt that I was drawn in that direction simply because of a sudden interest that was sparked in other people when they heard I may be a religious sister. It was like I was just Michelle-- but then when someone would hear I was open to religious life and discerning, it was like, "OH! This is MICHELLE-- the one who is discerning! And oh, isn't that wonderful?" Looking back, I clearly doubt that the interest they showed was the greatest affirmation in my journey, but I know that it kept me thinking it was what others and God wanted. I'm still open, but as of now, I don't feel called to discern-- big distinction there that another blog entry will address. But back to affirmation...
Also, affirmation through physical contact is something I am missing with the intensity of a thousand burning suns! I can't stand it. In CMC, we'd give hugs-- all the time! Dancing together, grabbing arms while telling a story to emphasize points, hugs during the sign of peace, hugs after coming back from the mission sites and being reunited after dinner, backrubs after a long day....
We even stood incredibly close to each other. Hm. :)
The idea of just being held by others and God is just wonderful. Yesterday at Mass, I forgot that most people don't hug during the sign of peace and went to hug a colleague. It ended up being a half-handshake/half-hug/advance catastrophe that was a remarkable example of physical awkwardness. Oh well.
So why blog about this hodgepodge reflection on affirmation in my life right now? Honestly, I have no idea. It's just been on my mind for a while, and so this is very much a blog entry of "this is me." Boom. All my cards, on the table. So this week, I'm challenging myself to give more affirmation than I'm receiving. And real affirmation, not just compliments on clothing (although we do love getting compliments on how the color of our clothes sets off our eyes too!)-- but more along the lines of voicing appreciation of those in my life. And hugs. Yeah-- Mission Affirmation. Let's do this!
Affirming myself takes time, meeting God in that space within me where I can just be God's, and returning to that space daily. Like walking a labyrinth. (I love this picture-- cheesy and purple. I have a feeling Crys will love it too. ;))
And now, a closing with more on the Jesuit who I began this entry with and who Gina recommended to me: Insight into Fr. Green
“The better, good times are there to teach us the joy of loving; the worse happens to teach us to love truly.” -Fr. Thomas Green, SJ
Every Tuesday, the Pastoral Ministry students at Villanova gather in a circle of couches and comfy chairs for one hour. This time of discussion is so fruitful and listening to the Campus Ministry Interns and the other three students is so enlightening. Joyce, our professor, will sometimes speak of her experience of a lay woman working at the parish level, going back to school for her MDiv, and working in her various ministries at the time when lay ecclesial ministers were in the post-Vatican II creative space of brand new beginnings in the Church. We were assigned to read Michael Downey's Ministerial Identity: A Question of Common Foundations for our Pastoral Ministry class this week. So good. This is a paragraph from the portion speaking of the importance of prayer [bold emphasis added]:
"A baptismal spirituality is a whole way of life wherein we learn to lean into the Word of God, to find a lamp unto our feet, so that we can behold the gift that is always and everywhere being offered.
It is a whole way of life by which we become a living doxology, so that all we say and do becomes an act of praise to the Father, through Christ, by the presence and power of the Holy Spirit given in baptism.
This is consecrated living. Prayerful living.
A way of being held in the knowledge that all that I am and all that I have is first and finally gift.
Prayer is a way of living with, in, and from that gift. All the time.
Ministry that springs from any other motive other than this is misguided."
"The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention." -Julie Cameron
One gift Crystal gave Mary and I before we parted ways in June was a Gratitude journal. It's a book with blank pages for writing, but on every other page is a quote about thankfulness. Crystal took markers and wrote on some of the pages about what she was grateful for this year-- so beautiful!
I was flipping through the book today, and came across this quote. Also today, someone forwarded this YouTube video to me. Click to watch: Pay Attention. :)
Not only did I learn what a carillon is, I also was watching the people as they were walking/sitting/going about their normal day and getting to where they needed to go. Some would stop, laugh, look up at the bell tower, and then keep walking; some would laugh to themselves, glance up, yet keep walking; and others made no outward signs that they recognized Lady Gaga's song coming from the carillon. But one thing is for sure: For those that were attentive to their surroundings, they sure were DELIGHTED! :)
Be present. Stop and smell the roses. Slow down. Relax. Pay attention to what your body is telling you. All these are things I need to remember as the busy school year starts up. I usually do a good job of being present, but this served as an amusing reminder, when paired with the wisdom from the Gratitude Journal. :)
That's right. Love Poems from God. Read it. Even if you don't like poetry (or think you don't like poetry), read it. I feel like I'm one of those kids on "Reading Rainbow" who smiled at the camera and said, "If you like such-and-such a book, then you'll LOVE this one..." Because it's THAT good!
Recently, I've been *somewhat* obsessed with the following people, largely due to this book: Rumi, St. Francis of Assisi, Hafiz, Kabir, St. Teresa of Avila, Tukaram, Sr. Catherine of Siena, Mira, St. Thomas Aquinas, Rabia, Meister Eckhart, and St. John of the Cross. This book brings together a bouquet of poetry written by these people. Up until now, I had no idea that St. Thomas Aquinas wrote poetry. Who knew?! Amazing.
So, thanks to my generous and loving friend Christina, who has lent me this book since July, I have been starting my mornings with a lit candle, and a few poems from the East and West. I also recently read "Praying Your Experiences" by Br. Joseph Schmidt, and he says, "Pray as you can, not as you can't." I've found that praying poetry in the morning puts me in SUCH A GREAT MOOD! I am so happy as I get out of bed, blow out my candle, and head off to breakfast with verses like "God and I will forever cherish Myself" from Rabia in my subconscious.
Below are just a sampling of my favorite little golden nuggets. Enjoy!
"God Would Kneel Down" ~ St. Francis of Assisi
I think God might be a little prejudiced.
For once He asked me to join Him on a walk through this world,
This reflection speaks for itself... beautiful for those in transitions and the uncomfortable spaces of new beginnings. See also: Luke 8:50 & Mark 5:36. :)
An excerpt from "Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation On Dying and Caring"
~By Henri J.M. Nouwen
One day, I was sitting with Rodleigh, the leader of the [performing arts] troupe, in his caravan, talking about flying [on the trapeze]. He said, "As a flyer, I must have complete trust in my catcher. The public might think that I am the greatest star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher. He has to be there for me with split-second precision and grab me out of the air as I come to him in the long jump."
"How does it work?" I asked.
"The secret," Rodleigh said, "is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything: When I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me and pull me safely over the apron behind the catchbar."
"You do nothing?" I said, surprised.
"Nothing," Rodleigh repeated. "A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that his catcher will be there for him."
When Rodleigh said this with so much conviction, the words of Jesus flashed through my mind: "Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit." Dying is trusting in the catcher. To care for the dying is to say, "Don't be afraid. Remember that you are the beloved child of God. He will be there when you make your long jump. Don't try to grab him; he will grab you. Just stretch out your arms and hands and trust, trust, trust."
So check it: I'm from St. Louis and therefore am a faithful client of the First National Bank of St. Louis. In my past home of New York, Chase Bank is on every block. Here in Philly, it's Wachovia that's famous. So yesterday one of the items on my "To Do" list was a bullet point with "Open Wachovia account."
I walked into the bank, thinking I'd be there for 10 minutes... little did I know the Lord had something else in mind. I was introduced to one of the personal bankers, a middle-aged man who had a picture of his wife and two daughters on his desk. After the pleasantries of "good afternoon" and "how are you?" were exchanged, and I brought out my Missouri driver's license, he asked what brought me to Philadelphia. I told him about Villanova's Theology and Ministry program, and then he slowly said, "So... you are a ....God person."
Not really sure how to respond, I think I laughed and said something like, "You could say that, I suppose." He then asked, "So, how do you explain suffering in the world? How could a loving God allow such things to happen?" Hm. Not exactly the kind of discussion I had in mind for an escapade in the world of checking accounts and online banking. But, disponibilita, right? :) Go with it.
For the next hour and a half, our conversation ranged from his experience being raised in the Jewish faith (that he has now abandoned), the nature of free will, faith-based dietary restrictions, creationism and evolutionism (as not necessarily mutually exclusive) & both accounts of the Creation Story in Genesis, the Spirit of the Law (with comments from Paul & the Dali Lama!), liturgical rituals, the importance of relationship, and all things in between. I also remembered the two truths common in all religions and this would make my Religion 101 teacher proud: 1) Religions develop historically and 2) There is diversity in all religions. These helped immensely. Somehow, simply listing the topics doesn't adequately convey the amount of agression in his questions, nor the quality of those questions. All his questions (as probing or as accusatory as they were) were really good ones that I think any spiritually mature individual would face in his/her journey. He also commented on how young I was to think I know what life's all about (which I didn't appreciate-- age-ism, right there), but I did take that point to heart: I do have much to learn and wisdom does come from experience. So he helped me, too. In the end (God knows how!), we got around to opening a checking and savings account. Welcome to Philadelphia-- I'm official.
Here's what I'd like to say, though-- God gives you what you need when you need it, that is for certain-- and at that meeting at one of the many Wachovia's on Lancaster Ave, God delivered. What was amazing to me was that in previous conversations I had about matters like this with complete strangers, I would often feel targeted and attacked. However, this time, even though some questions were purposely meant to be agressive, as I sensed anger from his tone, I had a sense of peace, composure, and light-heartedness in my responses and musings. About 45 minutes into it, I realized, "Hey! As serious as these questions are, I'm having a good time!" God provided the openness and calmness in this experience. But perhaps most of all, God provided the opportunity for me to slow down from my busy list of "To Do's" and get in touch with what really matters: working through the tough questions IN COMMUNITY with others-- even complete strangers named Hal.
So... after One week of camping in Missouri, One week of visiting my Godmother and cousin up by Lake Superior in Wisconsin, One week of relaxing at home...
Here are a few things that I was reminded of during my time with my family. I have 7 brothers and sisters (so I'm the second-oldest of eight) and being so far away from them for 6 years has made me feel incredibly distant at times, but when I am home, I eat it up! :) I was especially reminded of them when my best friend from college, Liz, came to visit. She would comment on the things our family did and it made me pause and say, "Yeah. I really like that, too. Thanks for reminding me." :)
1) My mom is so funny. And I mean SUPER HYSTERICAL! The way she tells stories and recounts seemingly simple episodes, complete with accents, motions, and suspenseful pauses is simply amazing. I've missed that. With all the medical problems she's had this year, it's really something that she brings her unique sense of humor to share with those around her.
2) My parents are really affectionate towards each other. People will often tell me how cute it is that they always hold hands, go on walks after dinner, and hug--I guess growing up, I always just thought all parents were like that, so I didn't pay much attention to it. But it's so true! :) And I love it! Even more than the physical contact, I love the times when they are talking, and you can just tell that whatever the other is saying is THE most important thing for the other. They're really examples of GOOD LISTENERS!
3) Praying together as a family. I admit it-- growing up, I often wouldn't enjoy praying the family rosary. We would pray it every day as a family, either after dinner or in the car if we had someplace to go that day. As a kid, it seemed so gosh-darn LOOOONNNNGGGG! (In contrast, I loved when we did the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, because that went so FAST!) I think I've really missed that. There is something really special about a family lifestyle that is intentional about putting aside time for prayer together, even if it is not always appreciated.
4) Eating together. This is one thing that Liz brought to my attention. She had said that she enjoyed eating with my family because people would come in from work, and everyone would share about their day. I guess I always took this for granted.
5) The amount of stress that my mom places on wellness, recycling, buying local grocery items, using less (especially water and electricity!), and health foods ("Don't even THINK of bringing high fructose corn syrup, MSG, nitrates, aspartame, or hydrogenated oils into this house!"). There's that saying that goes, "Live simply so that others may simply live."-- my mom really embodies this.
6) My dad's many small sacrifices are ways of showing that he loves us. He barely ever buys things for himself. He flies planes for a commercial airline, and as part of the job, pilots are given a Per Diem stipend while on trips. Instead of using the money for food, he'll save it. When he is at home, he'll take so much time with us, teaching us how to change oil in the cars, work the embroidery machine, start up bank accounts, critiquing Stephen's violin playing, packing bikes, giving directions, etc... there really is no end to this list. There will be days when it's clear that he's exhausted, but he'll still take time to play cards with us or sit on the porch and enjoy a beer-- with those of us that are old enough :).
7) My brothers joking with each other-- it's like watching a reality TV show. Really, all four of them have completely different interests and personalities. It's kinda like Big Brother meets The Partridge Family meets Friends meets MadTV. Yeah.
So here's to appreciating family, and me trying to do a better job of it. :)
Family Picture taken many moons ago... 5 years ago(?) (This was the summer I had purple highlights in my hair... don't ask.)
So here I am, a mere five hours away from when I need to get up, shower, and drive to the airport for a flight to Chicago and then Philadelphia... and what am I doing? Blogging. That's right. The excitement is not allowing me to sleep. :) I realized that I hadn't posted this yet, so here it is! :)
At the end of the CMC year, missioners write reflections on the experience. Below is mine. I tried not to have a self-imposed length limit-- so hopefully that comes across. No amount of words could adequately express it all, but here's a small piece for how grateful I am for this experience. So, thanks, Mother Cabrini, for making this all possible. We are, as she said, "merely spectators of God's wonderful works." :)
God has a way of giving us exactly what we need when we need it. (In fact… God is SO good at that!) My first year with Cabrini Mission Corps, I learned in a very tangible way that Ministry is Relationship— the heart of ministry and mission is the acceptance of God’s love for us and sharing in the lives of others. This second year, I believe that God opened my heart to receive this gift of relationship even more. The gift of relationships is really all I have, when I think about it. It’s like in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, when Lena’s grandmother says, “In this life, family is the most precious gift we are given, the most sacred. Turn your back on them and that is when you truly have nothing.” Our interactions with others are just that—precious gifts that cannot be taken for granted. Time and time again I was reminded by those in my community and those at my mission site to look at every day and every encounter with another with a spirit of gratitude. Even the most simple interactions with students, people on the NYC subway, and the workers at Lyric Diner at the corner 3rd Ave and 22nd Street were sources of joy for us. Most especially, I was reminded to see God’s invitations of grace and relationship with him as the summit of this gift of relationship.
I was led by joy to Mother Cabrini High School in New York City, where I spent two incredible years. At the beginning of this year, I had my students re-write the words to John Bell’s “The Summons.” All of the students’ papers touched me as I read their own interpretations of the lyrics. One, in particular, still stands out to me. Ashley Garcia revised one question to be: ‘Will you let me be the most important person in your life?’ I feel that this simple question is precisely what God asks of us every day. My relationship with God is the single most important relationship in my life and all others contribute to that foundation.
Many times, I feel like God has continually invited me into this question. Who am I to you, and who are you? What do you stand for? As part of the debriefing process, missioners give mission appeals at parishes in the Philadelphia area—the money raised during the collections go toward Catholic missions around the world. I had to laugh when I saw the reading for the Gospel for that Sunday. I felt that they returned to the exact theme of coming to know who God is for me. See, the reading for the day was from Luke’s ninth chapter, where Jesus practically grills his apostles by asking: “WHO do people say that I am?!” What a question. Jesus looks into our eyes and still asks today: “Who am I to you?” Whether we are full-time missionaries or not, this question is inherently linked to discovering who we are and answering the call to be who God created us to be.
In the same spirit, my spiritual director this year had told me to ask myself: Who is Jesus to me? Where do I see the face of God? Where do I feel God’s presence? These years as a missioner have revealed to me Jesus in the marginalized, the forgotten, the misunderstood, and the underestimated, but also Jesus the dreamer and Jesus the faithful one. From the Midnight Runs where we would spend the day preparing toiletries, clothing, and bag lunches to distribute to the homeless; to retreats and prayer groups with the students; to mourning with a student who had a miscarriage and healing with another after her abortion; to celebrating college acceptances; to teaching how to serve a Mass—these relationships revealed to me the hope and resilience found in God’s people and the power of community found in sharing our faith with one another, and what sacred gifts these are!
Speaking of community— Mary, Crystal, and the sisters we lived with were my heroes this year. Living in a Cabrinian community of diverse, accomplished, well-traveled, intelligent, caring, warm, supportive, and spirit-filled women helped me in so many ways. We laughed, cried, and shared in the daily joys and struggles of life. When friends and family of the missioners came to visit, there were the MSC’s, eager to welcome and get to know our visitors. When I did not receive my first choice internship for graduate school, I was heartbroken. Mary and Crystal creatively cheered me up and said, “If you thought that was the perfect match for you, think of how awesome the next step will be—because God always makes sure things work out in our best interest.” And they were right—the internship that I was offered the very next day matched me even better than the first. It was truly a Spirit-thing that Mary, Crystal, and I went through CMC together. I have never felt more supported, more challenged, and more present in my spiritual journey than with these two young women. Whether we were pursuing the sacred in the many young adult programs that NYC offers, to salsa dancing at night, to visiting with other volunteers and missioners, to blog sessions in the community room, to staying up late cleaning, to sharing about our days at the mission sites, to singing and dancing for the Senior MSC’s, Mary and Crystal kept it real—they were sources of constant inspiration for me, yet we all saw each other as equals. These relationships with the CMC’s and MSC’s continue to impress upon me the importance of gratitude within relationships.
On my last Sunday in New York City, Mary and I went to Sacred Heart Convent to celebrate Sr. Claudia’s birthday with Mass and lunch. Fr. Benedict’s homily was a reflection on the nature of freedom, love, and vocation. He said, "What keeps you from love—that is your slavery. Where you can love most—that is your vocation." To include this quotation at this point may seem off-topic from the subject of this reflection as a whole, but I once again was filled with such a sense of gratitude as I heard Fr. Benedict share his thoughts on the Gospel. What a great way to close these two years as a missioner—with a spirit of thankfulness for my vocation to love as well as my personal slaveries of self-doubt and struggle (at times) to love myself. There is no doubt in my mind that the relationships I have been gifted with these years have greatly helped me name and claim my vocation and slaveries. I will take these joyful moments of relational and spiritual growth with me to the next phase of my life. I hope and pray that I will continue to live the values of Mother Cabrini (especially disponibilitá!) as I go forward from life as a missioner. Thank you!
*And Thank You! to Mary, Sr. Arlene, Crystal, and Gina for their pictures! :)
So it's true-- I rarely quote Pope Benedict XVI/ Il Papa/ P-Benny. It's not for lack of reading or hearing what he has to say-- I scoured a shop behind the Vatican in Rome for an English copy of Deus Caritas Est when it hit the religious bookstores, only to realize I had been walking past it for a good 15 minutes. I suppose I just never read anything of his that made me look up and say, "Wow. Now, THAT hit me!" in a way that made me want to jump up and down and instantly email, text, and Tweet it to everyone on my contacts list... until now.
I follow the blog for one of the religious congregations that sponsored me at Saint Mary's College. I met with three in their cloistered community last month, a few days before I left NY, because I wanted to meet in person some of the beautiful souls who opened themselves to sponsor a complete stranger in higher education. So, I hopped on a train from Penn Station and headed out to visit the Dominican Sisters of Summit, NJ. (I believe I Tweeted this experience.) I brought pictures of the Cabrini Sisters, CMC, and ministry at the high school. We had a wonderful time sharing in the presence of each other for a couple of hours. During this time, we shared our blog information and I've been following them ever since.
Tonight, after returning home from a 12-hour drive from Washburn, WI to St. Louis, MO, I logged on and started catching up on emails. I made a pass at all of the blog updates I'd missed and saw that the Dominican Sisters had this golden nugget of vocational goodness on their blog. After reading it, I and simply HAD to share it! (The Spirit made me do it!!!) I am retaining their emphasis from the quotation of the pope. This he shared with young people at the Cathedral of Sulmona, Italy (which is a town that I visited back in my sophomore year of college while traveling with my dear friend, Laura Lucci, on a pilgrimage to her father's town of Pacentro!).
"You have just asked me: how does one recognize God's call? Well, the secret of the vocation lies in the capacity for and joy of distinguishing, listening to, and obeying his voice. But to do this it is necessary to accustom our hearts to recognizing the Lord and to having an awareness of him as a Person who is close to me and loves me. As I said this morning, it is important to learn to live in our days moments of inner silence in order to hear the Lord's voice. You may be sure that if we learn to listen to this voice and to follow it generously, we have nothing to fear, we know and feel that God is with us, that God is Friend, Father and Brother. In a word: the secret of the vocation lies in the relationship with God, in prayer that develops, precisely, in inner silence, in the capacity for listening, hearing that God is close. And this is true both before the decision, that is, at the time of deciding and setting out, and afterward, if one wants to be faithful and to persevere on the way."
My experience as a writing tutor reminds me what bad manners it is to have a dropped quote-- a quotation from another source that is simply left dangling within your essay/paper/written work without any additional commentary on the subject of that quote. It is simply seen as improper because the whole point of writing is to expand on ideas and share your reactions to ones previously stated. In a worst-case scenario, a dropped quotation can be seen as an act of laziness. However, in this case, I believe that the inscription above can hold its own. I leave it up to the reader to ingest the words at his/her pace without my commentary. Think about it. Pray about it.Let it marinade and ferment in your heart and mind. I know I'll be thinking about it for quite a while.
Thanks, Holy Spirit. :)
Speaking of vocation, this is an excellent book on the subject. It was recommended to CMC by our good friends Gina and Luke. It reads as a scholarly study of how our deepest desires and vocation can be stirred by our surroundings, histories, and needs in the world today. It took me a while to finish (Read one chapter, process for a week. Read another chapter, reflect for two weeks. Lost the book. Found the book. Etc...), but in the end, I was glad I did. :)
Easier said than done, for sure. And perhaps it is especially difficult for us raised with the Western idea of self, and Americans in general. I remember going to a speaker who said that the top-selling magazines in America in the 90's went from People to Us to Self. So identifying less and less with the "me" can surely be a struggle-- which we can address and overcome in many ways: reflection, service ("The greatest way to find yourself is to lose yourself in service to others." -Ghandi), and being mindful of our connectedness and inter-dependency with others. (Reading Rahner for my Foundations class and last night's portion included "Man as Dependent.") Anyway, the lost art of conversation as a tool to identify with our connectedness has been on my mind recently.
That's right. Love Poems from God. Read it. Even if you don't like poetry (or think you don't like poetry), read it. I feel like I'm one of those kids on "Reading Rainbow" who smiled at the camera and said, "If you like such-and-such a book, then you'll LOVE this one..." Because it's THAT good! 
