Category Archives: reflections

Video Prayer Reflection: You are Loved

October 30, 2014reflectionsMerton, prayer, video prayerssusanfrancoiscsjp

This evening I took a little break from studying for comprehensive exams with a bit of creative prayer time. Today I’m working on my question on Thomas Merton’s ecological conscience, in dialogue with his substantial writing on peace and nonviolence. As a result, I’ve been spending a lot of time the past two days reading Merton’s words or reading about Merton, including his famous “epiphany moment” at the corner of Fourth and Walnut:

“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness… This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud… I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.”

While I’ve been working, I’ve also been listening to Vance Joy’s EP God Loves You When You’re Dancing. The music fits the moment, so it’s been on repeat. The end result is that I ended up taking an extended study break to create this video prayer reflection. Call it what happens when the corner of Susan and St. Joseph meets the corner of Fourth and Walnut.

On Solidarity: Incarnation and Conflict

October 29, 2014reflections, schoolCatholic social teaching, Pope Francis, school, social justice, solidarity, theologysusanfrancoiscsjp

I’ve spent the past few days reading about the Catholic tradition’s understanding of solidarity, especially as related to its option for the poor, in preparation for my comprehensive exams next month. Imagine my surprise when solidarity popped up on my social media feed in an article titled: “Pope urges activists to struggle against ‘structural causes’ of poverty.“

The pope said solidarity entails struggling “against the structural causes of poverty, inequality, the lack of work, land and shelter, the denial of social and labor rights,” and confronting what he called the “empire of money.”

Ok, so perhaps I should not have been so surprised. After all, Pope Francis mentioned solidarity 19 times in last year’s apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium. And really, the Church’s emphasis on solidarity is not new. It is often associated with the Pope of my childhood and early young adulthood, Pope John Paul II, who understood solidarity as a virtue. In his 1987 encyclical Sollicitudo rei socialis, John Paul described solidarity as “a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good; that is to say, to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all.”

As I said, I’ve been reading a lot about solidarity in preparation for comps. One book that has really helped me to dig deeper into the underlying challenge and promise of solidarity is Kinship Across Borders: A Christian Ethic of Immigration by Kristin Heyer. Heyer describes three forms of solidarity.

Institutional Solidarity calls, you guessed it, institutions to understand themselves as collectively responsible to amelioriate the economic and political factors which cause injustice and inequity. The work of the United Nations, at its best, is an example of institutional solidarity, focused on transforming structures for the common good.
Incarnational Solidarity calls us to “immerse our bodies and expend precious energy in practices of presence and service in the real world.” Those of us who “have” can be isolated in our worlds and world views. Incarnational solidarity urges us beyond our protective bubbles to experiences and relationships which “better attune us to our connections.” This might be real life concrete relationships with actual people on the margins. Or this might be adjusting our own consumer choices to honor those we are related to, such as farmers, by making the choice to buy fair trade. Gregory Boyle, SJ sums up well the transformative power of incarnational solidarity when he says: “At the edges, we join the easily despised and the readily left out. We stand with the demonized so that the demonizing will stop. We situate ourselves right next to the disposable so that the day will come when we stop throwing people away.”
Conflictual Solidarity, according to Heyer, is often “underplayed” in Catholic thought. Until, that is, our current Pope who no doubt was transformed through his own experiences of incarnational solidarity in Argentina. Just ponder this quote from Evangelii Gaudium: “Solidarity, in its deepest and most challenging sense, thus becomes a way of making history in a life setting where conflicts, tensions and oppositions can achieve a diversified and life-giving unity.” If we are truly committed to life and human dignity for all, if we stand with those pushed to the margins, then it’s not just a matter of holding hands and singing kumbaya. We also need to get our hands dirty and sometimes face the necessary conflict. But, as Pope Francis recognizes in EG, how we do this matters. The goal is to seek “resolution which takes place on a higher plane and preserves what is valid and useful on both sides.”

The tradition of Catholic social thought is alive, developing, and deep. The themes peppered in the Pope’s recent talk to activists come from deep within the Church’s tradition. But I will admit, as an activist at heart, that it is also nice to read the Pope recognizing that when he speaks from this tradition, “some people conclude that the pope is a communist.” I believe Dorothy Day had the same problem.

Convent Culture

October 27, 2014reflectionsfriendship, hospitality, nuns, religious life, travelsusanfrancoiscsjp

Growing up in suburban Bowie, Maryland–the last suburb developed by the Levitt Brothers–you were always at home when visiting a friend’s house. This was not necessarily because of the quality of your friend’s hospitality, but because of the literal lay of the land. There were a limited number of floor plans in Bowie, so if you’d been in one Cape Code, Colonial, Rancher, or Country Clubber, then you knew where the bathroom, kitchen, closet, living room, and parental bed rooms were located. There was a certain level of comfort in that reality, truth be told.

This month, I’ve had the opportunity to visit the mother houses of two different religious communities. My sojourn in the mid-west is rapidly coming to a close, and so I finally made two long promised trips to visit with young nun friends. Both trips were lovely, in no small part due to the hospitality of my friends and their religious communities. I also realized that there is a certain level of comfort and “at-homeness” when I am in nunland (as one young nun friend calls it), reminiscent of my experience growing up.

To be sure, there are nuances and peculiar flavors of convent culture. But when you are a guest at a motherhouse, there are usually some things you can count on:

Your room will be ready and waiting for you, most likely with a welcome sign, a well-made bed, your own set of towels, and a note detailing some of the particular customs of the house.
Most likely the bathroom and shower is down the hall, so remember to bring a bathrobe and some slippers or shower shoes! However, you might be surprised by the gift of your own private bath. Best to be prepared in either case.
If you want coffee or tea, chances are it’s always available. And if you need anything else, all you have to do is ask.
Interested in a game of cards or a solving a piece or two of a jigsaw puzzle? That can be arranged.
Newspapers are usually available in the library or reading room.
Finished with your mystery or novel? Chances are there is a spot where you can pick up a new book and maybe even leave the one you just finished for someone else.
Looking for a group of women to pray with? You are welcome to join the Sisters in the chapel … just check the schedule in your room.
You will be greeted in the hallway, repeatedly, by a pleasant smile and maybe a hug from complete strangers.
There’s always a spot for you at the table in the dining room, complete with buffet style meals and interesting conversation. The water glasses might be smaller than you are used to, however.
When it’s time to leave, most likely the Sisters would appreciate it if you’d strip your bed and leave your sheets in the pillow case near the door. Sometimes there are even clean sheets for you to prepare the room for the next guest. You get to participate in the cycle of hospitality!

There are variations in the mix of these bits of convent culture, just as there are different flavors of religious charisms and communities. But when it comes down to it, we’re all Sisters and it’s so nice to be “at home,” even as a guest.

No Longer Strangers … a Scripture reflection

October 21, 2014reflections, schoolconstitutions, immigration, peace, school, scripture, social justicesusanfrancoiscsjp

I was invited to give a reflection on Ephesians 2:12-22 today at an all school mid-day prayer service held in our chapel at Catholic Theological Union. It was a wonderful opportunity to ponder the word of God in the context of our community. Here’s what I shared:

As a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace, I was delighted when I was invited to offer a short reflection on this reading from Ephesians, in which the theme of peace is so strong.

“For he is our peace … He came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near.”

I can’t help but hear echoes of my religious community’s Constitutions, where we say:

“Christ is our peace, the source of our power. United with him we engage in the struggle against the reality of evil and continue the work of establishing God’s reign of justice and peace.”

Christ is our peace, calling us to unity. But if we look around, so much divides us. Dividing walls abound, some of them quite literal like the ones we build on our borders.

Christ is our peace, but WE must make that peace known in our world. In the words of Paul VI who was beatified in Rome just this past weekend: “If you want peace, work for justice.”

As I have been sitting with this reading these past few days, I have been struck by another line from Ephesians:

“So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners…”

In 2003, the Bishops of the United States and Mexico crossed the dividing wall between our nations, united as one Church, to reflect on the reality of immigration and the need for immigration justice.

They called their joint pastoral letter: “Strangers No Longer: Together on the Journey of Hope.”

In the letter, the Bishops reflect on themes of migration and hospitality in Scripture:

From Abraham and Sarah offering hospitality to three strangers, who were actually a manifestation of God
To the edict to welcome the stranger, remembering Israel’s own exile in Egypt
To the Holy Family’s own flight into Egypt
To the reading we have today, of which the Bishops say:
“The triumph of grace in the Resurrection of Christ plants hope in the hearts of all believers and the Spirit works in the Church to unite all peoples of all races and cultures into the one family of God.”

Just look around our community here at CTU. Our students come from places that are far and places that are near. We come from places of relative peace and prosperity and places that have experienced deep division and heart wrenching violence.

We come to learn to be unifiers, reconcilers, bearers of mercy and builders of peace.

CTU is now even a place of hospitality, welcoming immigrant women and families in the Marie Joseph House of Hospitality across the street.

We have also been invited to participate in a practical work of mercy this week through a winter clothing drive for our immigrant brothers and sisters.

As the CTU community, we are no longer strangers and sojourners, but fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God.

May we be reconcilers in our families and communities.

May we welcome the stranger and work for justice.

May we seek, build, live, and bring peace.

Amen.

God of Surprises

October 20, 2014reflectionsfuture of religious life, God moments, Pope Francis, religious life, spirit, vocationsusanfrancoiscsjp

My experience of God is often one of surprise. It seems that when I open my heart, God finds a way in, often catching me off guard. It was so lovely to read this experience described in the words of Pope Francis this weekend at the beatification of Paul VI:

“This is the perennial newness to be discovered each day, and it requires mastering the fear which we often feel at God’s surprises.

God is not afraid of new things! That is why he is continually surprising us, opening our hearts and guiding us in unexpected ways. He renews us: he constantly makes us “new”. A Christian who lives the Gospel is “God’s newness” in the Church and in the world. How much God loves this “newness”! …

Here is where our true strength is found; here is the leaven which makes it grow and the salt which gives flavor to all our efforts to combat the prevalent pessimism which the world proposes to us. Here too is where our hope is found, for when we put our hope in God we are neither fleeing from reality nor seeking an alibi: instead, we are striving to render to God what is God’s. That is why we Christians look to the future, God’s future. It is so that we can live this life to the fullest – with our feet firmly planted on the ground – and respond courageously to whatever new challenges come our way.”

Truth be told, not only am I surprised by God, I often experience God as a someone with a pretty wicked sense of humor. And sometimes as a trickster too! As in, playful with a good sense of humor and not afraid to call my bluff or play the sneaky Holy Spirit card, calling me to something new before I even know really where I am going.

The God of surprises led me back to my Catholic faith, through twists and turns and friends, after a ten years as a strident “ex Catholic.”
God playfully led me to discover my passion for peace through justice, even in the midst of some experiences of pain and grief.
Another surprising God moment (in an email from my pastor) made me consider that maybe, quite possibly, I had a vocation to religious life
And then God surprised me by guiding me to a community of fun, faithful, and fearless women who seek to live peace through justice in their daily lives. God led me “home,” to a community of women I have come to love, despite age gaps, diminismhment, or fears, a place where I can be my best me.
And then, God surprised me with a group of religious life age peers across congregations who make me laugh, keep me sane, and make me love my community even more and believe with all my heart in the (surprising) future God has in store for religious life.

These surprises which led me to the corner of Susan and St. Joseph are ones that keeps on giving. As Pope Francis says, God is continually surprising me, opening my heart and guiding me in unexpected ways. For real … and for that, I am so very grateful!

Breaks and Falls

October 13, 2014life, reflectionsadventures, friendship, school, travelsusanfrancoiscsjp

My life these days is mostly consumed with what is right before me–writing my thesis and preparing for my oral comprehensive exams. So, while this week is technically “reading week” at Catholic Theological Union, every week has been reading (and writing) week for me since I came back from our congregation chapter almost a month ago. I’m hoping to get to the halfway point of my thesis today or maybe tomorrow (God willing!), which helps me to realize that what is ahead of me is doable and I just need to focus.

But focus I’m realizing also requires breaks for perspective. And so I took the train to Wisconsin this weekend to visit a younger Catholic Sister friend. There was no substantive reading and no writing this weekend. Just visiting, laughing, exploring, and relaxing which I think I really needed. Breaks are important. They ground us in reality, help us touch back into the wider world and see beyond the tunnel vision we can develop when we’re focused solely on what is ahead. I guess you could say that breaks are a way of getting practice using our peripheral vision.

While I have plenty to be about in my immediate future, given that I am working to finish my degree requirements before Christmas, I also find myself skipping ahead to the adventures that start in January. But a funny thing happens when I do that, or at least a funny (and somewhat painful) thing has happened twice in the past month. I fall. No major bones broken, just some minor scrapes and bruises that I have acquired while thinking far ahead into the future instead of paying attention to where I am walking. My subconscious does this to me sometimes (or maybe it’s the universe or even an experience of God’s sense of humor). In any case, I wonder if it’s not a way of keeping me real.

For example, I remember when I was preparing to profess vows I fell not once, not twice, but three times in the weeks before, in a very similar fashion–walking while worrying about the far off future instead of paying attention to what lies directly ahead. What’s funny is that this last incident literally occurred just as I was arriving home and getting ready to cross the street with my suitcase to my building. Here I was, physically transitioning from my mini-relaxing-weekend-break to the work of research and writing, but my mind was even farther down the line. So my body protested, bringing my focus and attention back to the present moment. I could do without scraped knees and bruised elbows, but I’m also happy to be present in this moment. I just hope that maybe I’ve learned what I’ve needed to learn and can avoid a third fall?

Taking Flight

October 9, 2014photography, reflectionscreation, scripture, spiritsusanfrancoiscsjp

Today’s first reading starts with what is perhaps the best line ever. .. “O stupid Galatians.” Followed by a whole lot of, “Don’t you get it?” (Galatians 3:1-5).

Well, no, we don’t really get it, or sometimes it seems. I spent this morning reading and praying with the news of the day. War. Inaction in the face of economic disparity and rampant disease. With a dash of fascination with polite protestors.

Then, if I am honest, I have to ask myself, do I get it? Or should the scripture read, “O stupid Susan”? Sometime my friends, sometimes.

After praying with the news over my cup of tea, I decided to go for a walk to the new-to-me Japanese garden I discovered last week before heading to the library.

I found myself in the company of graceful geese, swimming in the water … and then … taking flight!

And that it seems is the call. Clear as the call of the geese over head, honking. I remember reading years ago that one image of the Holy Spirit from Celtic spirituality is the honking goose. I usually think of that as the Spirit annoying me into action!

But this morning, I understood it in a different way. The geese I saw this morning, gently swimming in the pond, knew when it was time to take flight, to be about their purpose. The Spirit is not about staying still in safe calm waters. It is about movement and taking flight.

So is the world a mess? Yes. Can we fix it? Not alone. But maybe, just maybe, inspired and nourished by the love of God we can move forward together, take flight, and see what happens.

Come Be in My Heart … a video prayer

October 7, 2014reflectionsprayer, video prayerssusanfrancoiscsjp

I’m bringing another bloggy tradition to the new blog … video prayer reflections. I discovered a few years ago that selecting pictures and putting them to music in a video is a very creative prayer form for me … one that I usually end up doing late a night! The finished products are also great for contemplation and reflection. I return to them myself from time to time, and share them on my YouTube Channel and the blog.

Here’s the latest addition to the collection. This video prayer reflection is set to “Come be in my heart,” a beautiful song by Sara Thomsen I first heard at our Congregation Chapter last month.

Wisdom, compassion, love, understanding

Come be in my heart!

Whatever is lovely

October 5, 2014reflectionsbagshawe, csjp history, peace, scripture, seasonssusanfrancoiscsjp

Anxiety. It’s not imaginary. It’s not soft and cuddly. It is real. Certainly anxiety has been a part of my own life for as long as I can remember. My mother used to talk about my ‘anxiety bunnies.’ Therapy, prayer, and just being gentle over the years has helped me to befriend my anxiety and learn how to deal with it without it dealing too much with me, if you now what I mean.

Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved that anxiety has a part to play in my own Congregation’s story. In 1884, at the profession of vows of the first Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, Bishop Edward Gilpin Bagshawe said this:

“To secure this divine peace for ourselves and procure its blessing for others in the midst of the sin, turmoil, and restless anxiety of this modern world is the object of your institute.”

As a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace, then, my object is to be present to the restless anxiety of the world (and in myself) in ways that bring peace.

Today as I was walking home from church through city streets aglow with the splendor of autumn, I found myself reflecting on today’s second reading from Philippians (4: 6-9).

Brothers and sisters:
Have no anxiety at all, but in everything,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
make your requests known to God.
Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding
will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters,
whatever is true, whatever is honorable,
whatever is just, whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious,
if there is any excellence
and if there is anything worthy of praise,
think about these things.
Keep on doing what you have learned and received
and heard and seen in me.
Then the God of peace will be with you.

First of all, my dear friend Paul needs to realize that as much as we might wish to brush our anxiety bunnies under the rug, they will pop back up from time to time. We will have anxiety. I will (and do) have anxiety. But he has a point that rings true with my own experience.

The path to peace in the midst of the restless anxiety of our world (and our own hearts) is to bring that anxiety to God. To bring our prayers and concerns and wonderings to our God who of course already knows all about them, but there is something good and intimate and honest about laying it all before our loving God.

And so having placed our anxieties before God, we can let them rest there and focus instead on whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, and excellent.

Whatever is lovely … so much is lovely, as my autumn walk this morning showed me in abundance. Does that make all the yucky or complicated or worrisome stuff of life go away? No. But it brings some peace that helps us to be more authentic and our best selves as we face what we have to face in life.

Or so it seemed to me this morning on my autumn walk.

May the God of Peace be with you all, and may whatever lovely things you come across on your path today touch your heart and stop you in your tracks, if just for a moment.

Friendship, Vulnerability, and Prayer

October 2, 2014reflectionsfriendship, prayersusanfrancoiscsjp

Photo Credit: "Friendship" by Fabrizio Lonzini/Creative Commons License 2.0 — Photo Credit: “Friendship” by Fabrizio Lonzini/Creative Commons License 2.0

I am a lucky girl. Over the years, my path has crossed with some pretty amazing people, and I have been blessed to develop some incredible, deep, and lasting friendships with some of them.

Friendships of course start because you have some commonality, shared experience, or perspective. There you are, just living your life day by day, and before you know it, you’ve got a friend. Come to think of it, isn’t that a song from a certain animated feature?

Even for those of us who are just a little bit shy, that’s really the easy part. The hard part comes when your commonalities shift or go away, or when the physical distance between you grows, or other life changing events happen and shift the landscape of your friendship. When you shoulder some of those burdens of life together, renew connections and make new ones, your friendship goes even deeper and in the process becomes more precious.

In my experience, the most beautiful part of friendship comes when you are able to walk tenderly together into the moments and spaces of vulnerability in your lives. Sometimes this is entirely mutual, such as when you and your friend share a hard experience. Sometimes you are the one in a vulnerable spot, and your friend is there to love and support you and help you remember how good things can be and that things will be good again. And sometimes, the grace in the moment is that you are able to be there for your friend when things aren’t going that well, or even when it seems as if their world is falling apart.

I will never forget one of these moments in my own life, the night I got the news that my mom’s long struggle with cancer was finally over and she had passed. As hard as it is to believe, that was actually eleven years ago this month. At that moment, I was filled with a jumble of feelings that were almost overpowering and paralyzing. I was so glad my mom was no longer suffering, yet at the same time felt like my world had literally been torn apart and would never come back together. I called my friend. I’m not sure how coherent I was. I think I was just trying to tell someone that I was dropping everything and flying home the next day to be with my family and get ready for the funeral. I may not actually have said anything. All I know is that within the next hour, well after midnight while I was packing my suitcase, there was a gentle knock on my door. My friend was there just to give me a hug. She had driven all the way across town just to do that. I hadn’t cried really until that hug but her presence and love freed me to let go and be with my grief. What gift.

My prayers these days are filled with hopes and love and support for friends who are going through their own rough patches. Marriage problems, deaths or serious health problems of loved ones, job or vocation crises. Some of my favorite people in the world are having a tough time right now. In most cases, they are too far away for me to hop in a car and give them a hug. But in my prayer, they are loved and held in a special way. Being present, even at a distance, to my friends in their vulnerability is such a beautiful thing.

I was looking for a photo to go with the post and found the one above. How perfect is that, my friends, to express what I’ve been trying to write in the past 628 words? Sometimes, you just need a buddy to sit within you in the dryer, to give you a hug between the spins and hot spots of life.

At the Corner of Susan and St. Joseph

personal blog of Susan Rose Francois, CSJP – a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace