Blog
the new testament
it’s so wonderful to find
that mother church is really mother earth
that cathedrals are enshrined in every forest
that fire and wind are holy spirits
and mystics are women like you and me
Pat Noonan (guest poet)
image: Casey Horner/Unsplash
My mother was three years old when the ambulance came to her home and wheeled her mother out on a stretcher never to return. Luigia died at age 36 leaving her husband, Atilio, daughter, Monica (my mom) and son, Orlando. It was 1934. Work was hard to find and so was care for two children. An impossible decision needed to be made if they were to have a future together as a family. My Grandfather had to separate his children for care so he could work. My mother lived with relatives in a very unwelcoming, abusive home for two years. How would he reunite his family if he did not have care for his children? At that time, he was advised to write a letter of proposal to a woman who was familiar to him through family connections and available - she agreed to the arrangement. They were married in 1936. Mom and her brother returned home to their dad’s wedding and a stepmom at the tender age of 7.
“ “if you are going to err, err on the side of Love for you can never love too much.””
The year mom turned 36 she was fearful that she too would die. My mother had no understanding of why her mother left her, or why she died. As she grew, she would ask neighbors and relatives what happened to her mother... What was she like? Stories were shared but mom went to her grave not knowing the reason for her mother’s death. Mom’s searching opened her heart to God. I’m not sure when exactly this happened but I witnessed its power. She thrived on relationships: creating them, building and growing them, resuscitating them when they were being smothered or healing them when they were broken. Mom was a heart-to-heart caregiver, nurturer and worker bee. She was strong minded and fierce in her advocacy for the most life-giving path no matter what the situation. Mom could also be stubborn and make mistakes. It was tough for mom to forgive. The pain was often quite deep but with God’s help she got there. Often, she shared her healing journey with me. She became very fond of a phrase she lived, “let go and let God…Trust”. She also advised often, “if you are going to err, err on the side of Love for you can never love too much.” As Mom aged, she always did her best to be present at our gatherings as family. I couldn’t help but notice her stance of quiet gentle awareness. Her peace and joy came from a deep sense of knowing there was something greater at work among us…it was as if she was holding in her heart a constant vigil of Love drawn from the source of Great Love.
There is a richness in my mom’s story that is full of desire to live in God and allow God to live in her. My mother’s story matters greatly to me. It informs my heart and soul… I need to pray it, listen to it, learn from it, and allow it to grow in me, transform me, open me to the possibilities of the life I have yet to live. Her life was and is God’s precious gift to me. My cup overflows.
On this Mother’s Day, I celebrate and give thanks for my mother and all the mothers who help us continue to create the landscape of our lives. I celebrate and give thanks to all the “other-mothers” who come in the form of teachers, spiritual guides, mentors, aunts, sisters, grandmothers, for all mothers and other-mothers who carry unbearable suffering due to war, disease, famine, racism, crime, homophobia… To all mothers and “other-mothers” may God bless and keep us forever.
Little did I know that when I became a mother that I would fall deeper into Love and stay in love my whole life. I end with the words attributed to Pedro Arrupe, sj.
-Linda Mooney, Associate
Image: Markus Winkler/Unsplash
I have wonderful memories of Palm Sundays past. My friend and I for many years went to visit her Dad on Palm Sunday weekend in a rural village in eastern Ontario. The village was small; the parish smaller but the spirit was alive and well. I could see Jesus being very comfortable here riding through town on his wee donkey, a sign of peace rather than dominance in His day.
Sadly, short days later his celebration of welcome turned to one of scorn, the suffering servant was about to be revealed. (Isaiah 50:4-7) He accepted this treatment with faith in His loving Father. With humility, putting others before Himself, (Phil 2:6-11) Jesus submitted to the torture of the cross. Luke’s passion narrative (Luke 22: 14-23, 56) reminds us of Judas’s betrayal, Peter’s denial and repentance, the women’s faithfulness and centurion’s acknowledgement that Jesus was “this was a great & good Man”.
As we move into this most Holy of weeks, let us remind ourselves, daily, of our own faithfulness, our own weaknesses and our belief that Jesus was and is truly our God who loves us especially in our admitted weakness. May you have a blessed Holy Week my friends.
-Maureen Condon, CSJ Associate
Images from Unsplash: Brooke Lark/Alessandro Bellone
As we reach the halfway stage of our Lenten journey, it is good to pause to check in how ‘we’ are doing. Did you notice what I just said? Checking to see how ‘we’ are doing. This Lent I have once again noticed how much I like to be in control of my life, to be “in charge.” Probably most of us think we know what is best for us and tend to forget that we need help and guidance from God.
As the word Lent “stems from the old English word lencten springtime, spring” on Ash Wednesday I decided to do some internal spring cleaning during this Lent. Since I have always liked the prayer, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” Psalm 51:10, this was what I prayed for. In hindsight, I remember thinking, “Be careful what you wish [or pray] for.” Though “my” plans focused on getting ready for some almighty spring-cleaning of my heart, that became secondary to what transpired. An allergic reaction to a new medication caused my skin to peel and shed.
Then, just before Lent, I stumbled upon the reflection, A Time for Skin-shedding by Joyce Rupp. As if that were not enough of a ‘God-incidence’, a friend also forwarded her reflection to me. Though the title instantly resonated with me, it was her closing sentence which really got my attention, “May this Lent be a time of skin-shedding for you, my readers, a time when you discern what are your strengths and what are your weaknesses.” As I pondered these words, I thought to myself, “Okay God, I am shedding my skin - what is the message here?”
In the first reading on this Third Sunday of Lent, we hear about Moses at the burning bush, where he hears God tell him, “Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” I doubt that God was asking me to remove my skin. However, prompted by Joyce Rupp’s reflection, I wondered whether God was wanting me to see how spiritual skin-shedding could help me discover what my strengths are and what weaknesses are keeping me from growing. Was I encouraged to shed my spiritual skin so I could grow spiritually?” How could I shed my spiritual skin this Lent? In Ephesians 4:22 we read, “Strip yourself of your former nature [put off and discard your old unrenewed self] … And put on the new nature, [the regenerate self] created in God’s image.” I, who like to be in control of my life, certainly would need God’s help to shed my spiritual skin not just once but again and again.
Lent is the time to remove obstacles to grace. Our gracious God is like the gardener in the Gospel who said to the owner of a fig tree not bearing fruit, let me “dig around it and put manure on it.” God patiently works on the soil of our lives and often in unexpected ways, like using skin-shedding to teach me. The ‘manure’ in our lives tends to be full of surprises. Thankfully, it also contains the graces we need to help us shed spiritually and learn to embrace our weaknesses and bring out the best in us, who are wonderfully made. With God’s grace we can change and grow throughout this Lent so by Easter we will not be the ‘con-version’ of ourselves but the true women and men created in God’s image and likeness and comfortable in our own skin.
Sr. Magdalena Vogt, cps
IMAGES: Josh Applegate/Grant Whitty| Unsplash
I recall with fondness those Valentine’s Days of my youth. How exciting it was to fill out little Valentine cards for all my classmates and then to receive so many in return. Art class was dedicated to making hearts & flowers, cards for Moms & Dads. And of course, there had to be treats; little hearts with messages on them or chocolate, or both if one was very lucky.
The fact that the feast was originally named after the 3rd century martyr St. Valentine of Terni paled with the excitement of the day. History remembers him as a priest, some say bishop, who died at the command of Emperor Claudius II Gothicus because he would not renounce his faith. He is remembered as the patron saint of healing and epilepsy. I’ll share one lovely story of how our practice of sending Valentine cards may have started.
St. Valentine is said to have healed a young girl of her blindness. On the day of his execution legend has it that he wrote a letter to that young girl and signed “from your Valentine”. Sounds like a loving soul, doesn’t he?
May you feel loved and offer love to all you meet this Valentines Day, and maybe some treats!
-Maureen Condon, Associate
Images: Becca Tapert/ Unsplash
