Cardinal Joseph Bernardin passed away on this day in 1996. I never knew him personally but he is a spiritual mentor and I am honored to carry his name as a former Bernardin Scholar at Catholoc Theological Union. He has much to teach (and challenge) us in our current times of polarization, not just in our national climate but also our church.
Literally weeks before his death, he launched the Catholic Common Ground Initiative (now housed at CTU) with these words:
Are the differencesamong U.S. Catholics generating reflection, exchange, debate, ideas, initiative, decisiveness? Or are they producing distrust, polemics, weariness, withdrawal, inertia, deadlock?
No one can answer these questions definitively. But I and many others representing a range of theological outlooks feel that, in far too many cases, the brave new sparks and steady flame of vitality in the Church are being smothered by the camps and distractions of our quarrels.
… [T]he Catholic Common Ground Project offers the promise of our rising above hardened party lines and finding renewal in the splendor of truth revealed in the person of Jesus who is our Lord and our savior.
And so, in that spirit I hand on to you the gift that was given to me– a vision of the Church that trusts in the power of the Spirit so much that it can risk authentic dialogue. I hand that gift on to you without fear or trepidation. I say this because I know that it is a gift you already prize and cherish. I ask you, without waiting and on your own, to strengthen the common ground, to examine our situation with fresh eyes, open minds, and changed hearts, and to confront our challenges with honesty and imagination. Guided by the Holy Spirit, together, we can more effectively respond to the challenges of our times as we carry forward the mission that the Lord Jesus gave to us, his disciples. It is to promote that mission that the constructive dialogue we seek is so important.
I have been pondering what, if anything, to share regarding my post election thoughts. It hasn’t quite been a week, but I have been reading the national temperature and preparing for this result for a while now. So here goes…
First, before you ask, I have already discerned that this time around, I will not be reviving my daily practice of posting a prayer for President Trump.
Why?
For one thing, the platform itself has changed from Twitter to X, resulting in a significant change in ownership, philosophy, and audience. Somehow (the grace of God?), for the most part, I avoided being trolled or harassed last time. I suspect that may not be true this time around, and dealing with that possibility is not where I wish to place my energy.
This does not mean I stop praying. I pray for our elected leaders each and every day, and the 47th President and his administration will certainly be included in my daily prayers. As will the most vulnerable people and ecosystems who will be impacted by policy changes he proposes.
I have been posting short videos that share some simple messages about God’s love, goodness, the beauty of God’s creation, human dignity, the call to be still and grounded…
These are simple yet profound truths that seem to be lost or drowned out in the noise of the globalization of indifference and toxic nature of our (un)civil discourse that makes fertile ground for misinformation and the sowing of fear, hate and division. These posts seem to be finding an audience, if modest in size. More importantly, I believe this type of messaging is urgently needed in our public space. Let me explain.
When I was in graduate theological studies, my research focused on resistance to social sin. One of my key findings had to do with identity and moral choice.
Political psychologist Kristen Renwick Monroe analyzed first hand accounts of ordinary Germans during the Nazi regime and found that how they saw themselves directly impacted how they responded. I believe there are lessons to be learned for our present moment.
Those who supported the regime saw themselves as victims. They were willing to act preemptively against the other out of a desire for self-preservation.
Bystanders saw themselves as helpless, just one person alone against the Nazis. What could they do?
Rescuers saw themselves as connected with everyone and able to effect change. Notably, Monroe also discovered that they were the only group who “had integrated the value of human life into their worldview.”
She concludes that “identity constrains choice” across all three groups. In other words, one’s identity—in relation to self, other, world, and agency—radically influences one’s ethical response and actions. Monroe believes that her findings suggest that identity constitutes “the force that moves us beyond generalized feelings of sympathy, sorrow, or even outrage to a sense of moral imperative.”
So, in addition to getting ready to be a strong, vocal, and persistent advocate for the common good, human rights, peace, and the integrity of creation in the face of likely policy, legislative, and economic changes over the next four years, I also want to do my part to help (re)form our collective sense of identity and expand our menu of moral choice.
I see myself as connected to everyone. My worldview, informed and inspired by my parents and their/my Catholic faith, calls me to see human life and dignity and the goodness of all of God’s creation as central to my worldview and demanding of my action. My religious community strengthens and expands this understanding through our common life, prayer, mission, and charism.
I feel a deep sense of call to use my gifts, talents, and influence to spread that message in the belief that it will make a difference. Also, I am hoping it will help me stay grounded during the next four years.
In religious life circles, I am still considered a “newer/younger” member, even though I started this Catholic Sister journey almost 20 years ago and turned 52 this year. That my friends is proof that perspective matters, and when you factor in the median age of the Sisters (about 84 in my community), you see how that happens.
In any case, my novitiate classmate reminded me earlier today in a text that today is the 18th anniversary of our reception as Novices.
Novices in 2006
Look how young we were!
When we entered, our formation director was Sister Beth Taylor. She was also in that role during our temporary profession. As it happens, she was also in charge of funerals at the time, which explains I suppose why Beth asked me to plan my funeral before I sent in my request to make final vows!
I later lived with Beth for four years. She was such a good woman and I am better for having loved and shared community with her.
Tomorrow, I fly to Seattle a few days earlier than I had originally planned (heading out west for some September meetings) so I can attend Beth’s funeral. She died far too young at the age of 81.
Beth above in recent years and below witnessing my reception as a novice (and my tears)
In a few weeks, after my meetings, I will be in the role of formator witnessing Cheruto as she becomes a Novice in the same chapel where I was received 18 years ago. I have spent the last year journeying with her as Candidate Director. It has been an experience of grace and blessing, accompanying her on this discernment journey.
Cheruto
Religious life is filled with many blessings, challenges too, but it is the blessings which make it such an amazing life. These full circle moments are just a sign of the wonderful mix of joy and yes, sadness, made all the more real by the life and love we share through it all.
Today’s Feast of the Transfiguration challenges us to remember we, too, are Beloved of God. Moreover, as followers of Jesus we are called to listen to him and act accordingly.
Over a decade ago, I made this prayer video, set to the song Transfiguration by Indie singer songwrote Sufjan Stevens. As I prayed with it this morning, I was caught by his repetition of the phrase “Lost in the cloud…”
Lost in the cloud, a voice. Have no fear! We draw near! Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Turn your ear. Lost in the cloud, a voice. Lamb of God! We draw near! Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Son of God!
We can get lost in the cloud. The cloud of indifference. The cloud of division. The cloud of misinformation. The cloud of …. insert that which separates us from God’s love. And yet, we are called to LISTEN to the Beloved. We are called to Be Loved. We are called to Be Love.
As we hear in today’s reading from the second letter of Saint Peter (1:19):
“You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
Let us remember and transform the clouds of our lives into light and love and goodness, strengthened by the Source of every Good thing.
I finish my few days of retreat today, grateful for the blessing and opportunity of this time of solitude, prayer, and reflection.
In the words of our CSJP Constitutions:
“Recognizing gospel peace as both gift and task, we believe that prayer is fundamental to our life. …
In unity with the church and with all of creation we give praise and thanks to the Giver of all gifts. We open ourselves to the liberating power of God whose Spirit in us leads to peace.
Personal prayer deepens our desire to be united with God in faith, enabling us to see God’s presence and action in our lives and in the world.”
So much had happened since my annual retreat last October, good and bad, challenging and encouraging, and everything in between … in my own life, my life in community, and our wider world. There is so much to pray for and with! It is pure gift to have the ability to take time away in solitude with God’s love and mercy. Such a gift also carries responsibility, which I do not take lightly.
I have held in prayer many these days, those I promised to pray for, those I know, and many I do not. I know too I have been held in prayer. Again, such gift.
I have been so aware of God’s love these days away, love beyond measure. In the words of the song My Belovedby Eliza King (a soundtrack of sorts for this retreat), I have been “leaning on my beloved.”
Graced with time by the ocean, going on long walks and just sitting by the sea, I have been so aware of the gifts of creation given freely by the One who loved us into being, the healing power of Christ who became one of us, and the persistent presence of the Spirit nudging us into wholeness.
God is so good, and so are we. May we remember that in good times as well as the more challenging times. May we be people of peace and reflect God’s love, mercy, and care for all of God’s creation. Amen.
There is much to fear in this world of ours. War between and polarization within countries. Violence in our streets and in our homes. Poverty, disease, the list could go on and on, and those are just the big ones. We all have our own “little fears,” anxieties, worries that keep us up at night or afraid to start the day.
Today on Easter morning the church hears in the Gospel of Matthew (28) about fear and the Christian journey.
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and did him homage. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”
This Scripture passage has been very meaningful to me over the years, one that I return to again and again. Fearful yet overjoyed covers so beautifully the butterflies in my stomach feeling I felt at various stages of my vocation journey. Fearful, because, well, I’m me. Overjoyed because, well, I’m responding to the God who loves me by opening my own heart in service of God and God’s people.
We are human and might have reasons to be fearful. Yet we also find joy on the journey that compels us to be of service and about the mission of God. And it is then, we hear today, that Jesus is present, encouraging and sustaining his friend (and us), telling us to not be afraid.
“The Church relives the amazement of the women who went to the tomb at dawn on the first day of the week. The tomb of Jesus had been sealed with a great stone. Today too, great stones, heavy stones, block the hopes of humanity: the stone of war, the stone of humanitarian crises, the stone of human rights violations, the stone of human trafficking, and other stones as well. Like the women disciples of Jesus, we ask one another: “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” (cf. Mk 16:3).
This is the amazing discovery of that Easter morning: the stone, the immense stone, was rolled away. The astonishment of the women is our astonishment as well: the tomb of Jesus is open and it is empty! From this, everything begins anew! A new path leads through that empty tomb: the path that none of us, but God alone, could open: the path of life in the midst of death, the path of peace in the midst of war, the path of reconciliation in the midst of hatred, the path of fraternity in the midst of hostility.”
May we astonish one another in hope and love as we seek to roll away the stones that keep us from the goodness of God and one another
As we say in our CSJP Constitutions: “Strengthened by the Risen Christ, we go forth in peace to continue the work of love and service.”
In today’s reading from Hosea we hear: “I will heal their defection, says the Lord, / I will love them freely.”
God loves freely. We who are made in the image and likeness of God are called to do no less.
In the words of this song by Joy Ike (Wearing Love).
Slow your breathing No more scheming Quit competing Just love
Silly humans that we are though, we limit our God given ability to love, whether it is ourselves, those who annoy us, those who hurt us, those we disagree with, those we just don’t particularly like.
Jesus reiterates this central call to love in today’s Gospel (Mark 12):
One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.”
Love God. Love neighbor. Love yourself.
Freely and with our whole heart, soul, mind and strength.
As Joy Ike sings in her song: “All that works is the love that you bring.”
On this second Sunday of Lent, we hear the words of God, coming through the clouds: “This is my Beloved Son; listen to Him.”
Transfiguration (Jesus MAFA, Cameroon)
Moses and Elijah were apparently there on the mountain, and Jesus had already been Transfigured, his clothes a dazzling white. Understandable then that this freaked Peter, James, and John out just a bit. Or, as Mark writes, terrified them, so much so that Peter nervously started talking about building tents for the three. (Peter’s fumbling always makes me feel better.)
That is when the cloud appears and God’s voice can be heard. Seeing the light emanating from Jesus was not enough. So God made it clear for them (us). Jesus is his beloved. Listen to him. And then they saw him. Just him. Alone. With them. Their friend and rabbi who was also the beloved Son of God. They still didn’t quite get it, but they stayed with what it might mean.
“Here is the message: never divert your eyes from the light of Jesus. … This is what we Christians are called to do in the journey of life, always keep before our eyes the radiant face of Christ.”
What keeps us from seeing the light of Christ, ever present in our midst? What keeps us unable to BE the light of Christ for others? Can we echo Gos’s voice, reminding ourselves and others that we too are beloved children of God?
Pope Francis offered a tip for us all during these times, where shadows of darkness are also present and our woundedness, anxiety, and fear can prevent us from seeing the good also and always present in our midst if we but look for it:
“Here is a good resolution for Lent: cultivate open gazes, become ‘seekers of light,’ seekers of the light of Jesus, in prayer and in people.”
As I was praying with this Gospel and the Pope’s words this morning, I was reminded of a video prayer I made over a decade ago set to The Transfiguration by Sufjan Stevens.
Let us not be lost in the cloud, distracted by our fears. May we look out for the light and be the light for others.