How long can you go without talking? A few hours? A day? A week? We Sisters are blessed with a week of silence except for conversations with a spiritual director or necessary communication. (“Get up! The tornado alarm is going off!”) Not speaking aloud, turning off social media, avoiding TV gives the mind the rest to penetrate deeply into one’s soul. “But isn’t that boring?” you may ask. No, our God is full of surprises. We listen to God’s words in our hearts, and sometimes those words leave us speechless (which really is the point of a week without talking). Have you ever had a heart-to-heart conversation with God? A silent retreat provides lots of quiet hours to lay our heads on Jesus’ lap. Retreats are a time when God’s message may come in dreams—those of day or night. Many sisters choose to make their annual retreat in summer when the breeze blows blessings, when the water catches waves of a new baptism, when the trails of a park cut new paths in our lives. Sisters look forward to this week of retreat with anticipation. Who wouldn’t get excited about a vacation with God?
C. S. Lewis in “The Weight of Glory” claims that people are the holiest beings we will ever encounter. The famous author doesn’t qualify. All people are the holiest. All persons possess God in every cell of their being. All are saturated with God. Take a moment today to feel “the weight of glory.”
“Who is my neighbor?” asked the lawyer, and Jesus’ answer was the story of the Good Samaritan. The life of Jesus gives many other answers. Who was Jesus’ neighbor? The paralyzed man, the daughter of Jairus, the penitent woman, the widow and her dead son, the boy with a basket of bread and fish, Judas, Pilate, Peter, the Pharisees, the one who loaned his donkey for Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem, the women who provided food for the disciples, the widow who offered two copper coins to the temple treasury, Nicodemus, the moneychangers in the temple, the Samaritan woman, the adulteress brought to Jesus by the scribes, the man born blind, Lazarus, Martha and Mary, the criminals on each side of Jesus on Calvary, and innumerable others. Everyone. Jesus saw everyone as his neighbor. And Jesus says to us, “Then go and do likewise” (Lk. 10:37).
June had two “good fridays” for me. My youngest sister Sue who suffered from ALS entered eternal life on a Friday morning, and on the following Friday she was buried. Sue had written her obituary and planned her funeral. Having been a catering manager and a person who loved experimenting with recipes and hosting, the theme of obituary and funeral Mass was dining at the eternal banquet. The cover of the worship aid showed an eloquent place setting. The hymns radiated the hospitality Jesus exhibited on earth and prepared for us in heaven. The presider, Father Mark Davis, brought joy to the Eucharistic banquet, and the assembly sang and prayed loudly. The third and last Friday in June was a time to reflect upon all the good—the goodness of my youngest sister known for incomparable hospitality and attention to guests throughout her catering career, the goodness of her marriage to her “hero” Allen, the goodness of the care she gave our parents, the goodness of her gratitude toward Hospice care-givers, the goodness of her sense of doing something for others right up to the last days of her life. I have a hunch that I will be quite aware of “good fridays” in the coming weeks and months.
Today was Independence Day! We sisters met at the Sisters of Notre Dame Center in Whitehouse for lunch and an afternoon of fun. The sisters living there spread a delicious picnic—each of the four “houses” providing part of the menu: burgers and hot dogs, potato salad and chips, fruits and veggies, desserts. The occasion was very life-giving. Like patriotic flowers, we felt red, white, and bloom. Yes, bloom. Our petals were uplifted by the community spirit, our stems invigorated by the hospitality, and our roots sunk deeper in the love we hold for each other. Board games and card games, swimming, paddleboat rides and golf cart rides, talking and more talking. No dearth of fun when the Sisters gather from near and far.
What do you radiate? The electromagnetic field of the heart is about 5000 times more powerful than that of the brain. When our hearts are holding joy and love, the brain is less likely to focus on worry and stress. Instead, the brain focuses on love, empathy, creativity, and joy. Because the heart’s electromagnetic signal can be felt and measured 6-10 feet away, one person’s heart rhythm affects the heart rhythms of others nearby. Our spiritual gifts of the Spirit—charity, joy, peace, patience, and many more—can bring those same virtuous feelings to those nearby.
I just finished reading Camron Wright’s novel based on a true story, The Orphan Keeper. A child stolen from India and living over 20 years in the United States senses his need to return to a place that’s a half-globe away. Wright’s page-turner tells of loneliness, abandonment, and loss of identity. The reader senses that the main character cannot reach his full human potential until he becomes connected with his origin. Connecting with his roots, he becomes more fully human. We, too must see ourselves related to everyone and everything. We grow in the context of community so as we participate in more gatherings—parties, reunions, neighborhood picnics county fairs. Let these opportunities to connect help us become more fully human, more our real selves that are related to everyone and everything in the mystery of God’s Creation and Incarnation. In the new creation is the fullness of Christ, which is all humanity and creation bound in a union of love.
At the Last Supper one of the disciples was privileged to recline on the breast of Jesus, as the group enjoyed the Passover meal. This person was “the one whom Jesus loves.” Because Jesus loves everyone, every person is privileged to recline on Jesus, to experience such intimacy. This Last Supper is not the passage chosen for the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus on Friday, June 16. But it could have been. The gospel chosen refers to the meek and humble of heart (Jesus himself) whose yoke is easy and burden light. But the passages also includes this line: “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” We are the “anyone,” so spend some time resting on the heart of Jesus. And look around. Everyone you see is also the “anyone” and “the one whom Jesus loves.”
Each day is a new frontier to traverse. Each morning presents a choice to become more fully Christ in our world. What the day holds for us we do not know. Feats of courage will require feet of courage. A humdrum day also demands the courage to slog through. Morning prayer and morning walks set the tone. Both afford glimpses of God. “Oh, it’s You, God!” Fortified by God-glimpses, we set out on our day. Stay alert to God-glimpses in lyrics, a text message, a chance encounter, a child’s question, another interruption, the next task. At night review the God-glimpses and praise and thank God.
Three of us sisters took a ride on a canal boat in Providence Park, Grand Rapids, Ohio. Like the old song, the mule’s name was Sal, and Sally had a helper in Molly. The period costumes, the authentic 14-foot wide boat in a 15-foot wide canal, and the 1870’s jargon made an enjoyable ride at the amazing speed of 4 miles per hour. It took a lot of ingenuity to create locks to provide the level of water needed to keep the boat afloat. The hard work of digging the canal brought prosperity to Ohio as it provided materials and animals to “distant” cities in just a few days. Can you imagine a canal boat carrying two dozen hogs to the next town?
As a musician at St. Patrick Providence, Grand Rapids, I know our parish is the oldest parish in Ohio, and the church was built by Irish immigrants and staffed by an Irish priest—hence the name St. Patrick Church. Perhaps my loved ministry at St. Patrick Church may never have happened to me had it not been for the canal.