Tag Archives: hope

Souls of the Just and Hope

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Today is the Feast of All Souls, also known as the Day of the Dead.

This morning I celebrated this Feast with immigrant families waiting to visit their detained loved ones outside Delaney Hall, the private for-profit immigrant prison in Newark, NJ. Despite the estimated $60 million annual profit GEO Corporation makes on the operation, they force families to wait outside for hours on an active driveway for a chance to see their loved ones. Thankfully a group of dedicated volunteers are there each visiting day to provide practical support with beverages, food, chairs, blankets, hats, gloves and perhaps most importantly compassion.

In the first reading for today from the Book of Wisdom we hear: “The souls of the just are in the hand of God.” And in the second reading from Romans: “Hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Every time I am at Delaney Hall I leave with more hope, even in the face of the intentional cruelty done in the name of my country, because of the goodness of people.

Today one of the families woke up at 5 am to make tamales and Mexican hot chocolate which they brought to share with others families and the faithful volunteers who are there during visiting hours to support the visitors. The family told us they wanted to give to us like we give to them. I will admit this brought tears to my eyes. And I was not the only one. (Plus the tamales and hot chocolate were delicious)

Homemade tamales!

Other volunteers brought toys and art supplies for the kids. And there was even a face painting station. For children whose families have been torn apart and who wait for hours outside a chain link fence topped with concertina wire for a chance to see their detained mom or dad, these simple gestures also give them a chance to be a kid and have some good memories to see them through.

Face painting

Other volunteers set up a colorful altar, an ofrenda, for the Day of the Dead. We remember our loved ones who have gone before, so fitting as an emotional and spiritual support for the families visiting their detained loved ones.

Indeed hope does not disappoint because God’s love is poured out freely into our hearts. We in turn pour this love into the world, especially places and spaces of suffering and oppression.

In the words of the collect from today’s liturgy:

Listen kindly to our prayers, O Lord,

and, as our faith in your Son,

raised from the dead, is deepened,

so may our hope of resurrection for your departed servants

also find new strength.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God, for ever and ever.

Amen

For the children: community, common ground and hope

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Yesterday, I was blessed to spend the day at the first ever UNICEF USA Interfaith Convening on the Rights of Children. (Tomorrow is World Children’s Day). UNICEF gathered a diverse group of interfaith partners to learn about and explore how to address the equity gap in meeting the “polycrises” impacting the world’s children.

In 2023 alone, UNICEF responded to more than 400 humanitarian crises, but just 5 received 50 percent of the funding, while others don’t make the headlines. For example, I have to admit I was not aware that over 2 million people are displaced in Burkina Faso because of armed conflict. I committed to coming home and researching this particular crisis.

The Convening was an important learning opportunity. More importantly, it was a time to connect across our faith traditions. What became more clear as each speaker shared was that we are all motivated by universal truths to meet universal needs. There is power and possibility as we come together to act for the children of our world. Change is possible when we build community.

Hope was palpable in the room as people from faith traditions that are, at this very moment, engaged in armed conflicts that are harming children, came together not to debate politics but to commit to serving our common humanity. Differences arose, but we did not get stuck there. We all agreed that we need to cultivate more spaces like this to spend time on common ground. Rooted in our own traditions, we came together to plant seeds of hope.

During my sharing time, in the format of a fireside chat (minus the fireside!), I was asked what I think is the greatest crisis facing children.  Reflecting on the millions of children at risk every day from dangerous conditions resulting from armed conflict and environmental disasters, I shared what Pope Francis says about the globalization of indifference. How can we be indifferent to the need of EVERY Child for safety, food, shelter, health, and education?  And yet as a global community we are failing so many children.

We must resist the temptation to feel numb. We need community, we need to cultivate our common ground, and we need to act. For every child.

Because of the equity crisis, there is a desperate need for flexible funding. I was there because my Congregation supports the UNICEF Every Child Fund, a fund that enables UNICEF to help reach children with critical support when and where they need it the most. YOU can too! Click the link to learn more. And if you feel so called, to make a donation no matter how small.

Rolling away the stones

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Today we hear from Pope Francis in his Urbi et Orbi Message:

“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.”

Happy Easter!

Deck Our Hearts

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A friend just sent me an internet meme with the Grinch and this note: “This year I decided to do something different. I stole the last week of Advent.”

Today is the 4th Sunday of Advent AND Christmas Eve. I love Advent, perhaps because of the contrast with the hustle and bustle of this season in our society. This year too there has been the added weight of war and suffering, well sadly always there is war and suffering. This year it hits closer to our spiritual home as millions are at risk of starvation and death in the Holy Land while bombs and weapons have already killed tens of thousands, including children.

It is in the midst of this chaos and indifference that we are called for four weeks (more or less) to practice expectant waiting and hope as we yearn for love and peace. More than that, WE are called to make room for the incarnation of Christ in our world, hearts, and homes.

In the words of Margaret Anna Cusack, founder of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, in her reflection for today, Christmas Eve (well written in 1866 but you know what I mean): “Today we are decking our houses for His divine visit: let us not forget to deck our hearts.”

Happy last day of Advent as we await the coming of Christ our love and peace!

Consult your hopes and dreams

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Today is the Feast of Pope John XXIII. More than a decade ago I was a speaker at a conference where I saw this banner with the beginning of one of his famous quotes:

The rest of the quote is also worth reflection:

“Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.”

Hope. Dreams. Possibility.

More and more I am convinced that this is the way, to lean into these, to live into these. How often do we instead despair or compare? What would the world be like, our communities, our planet, if we put all this energy into creating goodness in a spirit of hope and possibility?

As I begin my day, how am I called to live into hope and possibility?

Praying in gratitude this day for the witness of this holy man who opened the windows of the church all those decades ago. May we be open to the movement of the Holy Spirit among us for the good of the whole.

Today also happens to be the 14th anniversary of my first profession of vows as a Sister of St Joseph of Peace. I could never have imagined all the possibilities that have taken shape in my life since that hopeful yes all those years ago!

Slowing down to keep up

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Things can seem to be spinning out of control these days

From the news cycle to the general frenetic pace of life

(and from meeting upon meeting in my own life)

To the growing inequality, systemic racism, uncivil discourse and general status quo which seems to inch farther away from the benefit of ordinary folks, especially those on the margins who Jesus loved so much.

How do we/I stay centered in the midst of it all?

To do lists, crisis management and holding the powers that be (and each other) accountable, to be sure.

But also kindness?

And looking with eyes of hope for signs of joy?

And slowing down

Yes, slowing down.

Slowing down to keep up.

DISPLACEMENT LESSONS

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Watching the news of massive flooding in Texas and South Asia, I cannot help but be touched by the humanness of the experience. After all, as the mass migration and refugee crisis show us every day, displacement is something millions of women, men and children experience each day as a result of poverty, violence, war, and environmental disasters.

I am touched deeply by the look on the face of a Bangladeshi mother as she carries her child through water waste deep … pure determination mixed with despair. I am heartened by a comment by two young men in Texas who were helping strangers evacuate, “We’re not heroes, we’re ordinary people doing what we can do.”

I also cannot help but reflect on my own time of displacement last fall. One October morning I woke up to a fire outside our motherhouse. Everyone was safe, but the main building is still not occupiable. I spent about four months living out of boxes away from home. I was safe, I had everything I needed, I was cared for … and yet I was discombobulated constantly. I kept losing things and was off kilter even as life settled into a new normal.

We have been back home since January, but I am still finding things and sorting them. Just today I found a favorite mug I thought had been lost and found some important papers that had been oddly mixed in with some trivial stuff in the packing and unpacking.

I hold in prayer all those who have lost their homes, their livelihoods, their mementos. I pray for all those relying on the kindness of strangers, and those strangers who see a neighbor in need and respond even though they have never met them before.

I hope and pray that all will be safe, and just maybe hearts will be broken open enough to widen our circle of relationship. 

Maybe those sharing a shelter with an undocumented family will be able to see them as friend and neighbor rather than other to be feared or vilified. Perhaps stereotypes and bias towards racial or ethnic groups will be tested through a shared human experience. 

I pray that in our gratitude for safety and securury and prosperity we recognize the vulnerability we all share.

I pray that our common experience of compassion and care for those facing unimaginable suffering brings us closer, makes us stronger, and teaches us what really matters in life.

Connection not division.

Little acts of kindness and love that can break through even the worst suffering and despair.

Hope not fear.

AMEN

My October Lessons

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It’s been a while since I’ve written in this virtual space. My life the past few months has been very full with unbloggable happenings and twists and turns which have kept me otherwise occupied, many of them good, some of them a bit more complicated.

October in particular was a doozy.  Lots of travel for nun meetings and conferences, and sprinkled in between more dramatic close to home happenings, such as accompanying a loved one with a serious illness and, oh yeah, my house caught fire, meaning that in between my scheduled travel I’ve been living here and there since we can’t get back home just yet.  Most recently, I ended up with a nasty cold that got a bit more serious given my asthmatic tendencies, but thanks to modern medicine all will be well.really-480
Nonetheless, to be quite honest my prayer of late has been simply one word …. “Really?”

And that is without watching much cable news or following the sad collapse of our democracy and civic sensibilities. Or watching from afar the destruction of the makeshift refugee camp in Calais, France, and the heart breaking situation of the 1,300 children left behind. Or my exacerbation that our apparently increasing obsession with hate and division and polarization keeps us from attending to the broken threads in the fabric of our society or focusing our creative energy on maybe, I don’t know, mending them rather than setting them on fire in the name of being right.

So essentially for the past three weeks, I’ve been an itinerant person without my own bed. I’ve returned to the days when I need to figure out where to do my laundry, and had the fun experience of trying to get the smoke smell out of my clothes, and the new experience of having to move my belongings around with me.  There is a lot of uncertainty ahead, and lots of hard work, and challenges, and difficult situations.

But there has also been much to give me perspective, and even, dare I say, to inspire me and give me hope.

For one thing, I am inspired by the amazing response of my displaced elderly and infirm Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace who showed such resilience in being uprooted at 7:15 am in the morning of October 12th by a serious house fire. I am filled with gratitude and awe at the incredible response of our caregivers and staff who got every sister and staff person to safety, managed to get their medication and medical charts, and find temporary homes for them the same day. Not to mention the emergency responders who not only contained the fire but acted with compassion and were present to our sisters. Then there is the wonderful outpouring of support, from our neighbors and sponsored ministries, from our sisters and associates across the congregation, from other religious congregations, the community at large. People are good. If you focus on the negative spin of our never ending electoral cycle, you might be forgiven for forgetting that simple truth, but people are good.

Even more than that, I have the marvelous gift of community which continues to surprise me and teach me in ways I would never imagine what it means to follow Jesus. I am safe, we are safe. We have the resources and support we need. We have access to medical care and ways to find temporary roofs under which to lay our heads. We can get the help we need to restore our home and come together as community in one place. But even in our current scattered reality, we are one. We are together. We are a community for mission.

So when my prayer starts out with that one simple word … “Really?” … the next set of breaths is a realization that life may be chaotic and hard to predict, but I have so much to be grateful for and such incredible support and love to nourish me as I navigate it all, as we navigate our shifting reality, together.

Not everyone is as lucky, not everyone who is homeless has the resources they need to see them through. Not everyone who is sick is able to just go to a doctor and get medication to make them feel better. Not everyone who is concerned for the common good has the right to vote.

I have all these things, and that gives me a responsibility to face the next day, to take the next step, and to keep hoping that, for one thing, November will be better than October has been!  It leads me to believe that things can and will get better, that our responsibility is to show up, to care for one another, and to face whatever comes together.

Which perhaps is why I loved this Facebook post by Kid President:

Yesvember.png

Let’s give it a go … and see what we learn from November, hopefully a little less chaotically!

 

Hoping with St Martha

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martha1Today is the Feast of St. Martha. My latest Global Sisters Report column, published today, includes my musings on St. Martha as a model of hope.

Martha was indeed real, living in a world where some things just needed to get done, even if her sister Mary was too busy to help. She also lived in a world where the people she loved were suffering. I suspect there may have been times when she too wanted to hide under the covers.

Martha certainly had her own doubts about what was possible in such a world. When Jesus asked her to roll away the stone from her brother’s tomb, she warned him that the smell would be overpowering given that her brother had been dead for four days.

Yet Martha — worried, anxious and doubting as any real woman would be in the face of such stark realities — also listened to the hope and promise of Jesus. She made a home for hope in her heart. She helped to roll away the stone, and her brother Lazarus came out, ready to be unbound and free. We have a lot to learn from Martha, who in the end engaged in hopeful action in the midst of her own anxiety, worry and grief.

Read the whole column here.

Hope is like breathing

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Hope is like breathing.
Hope  in, hope out.

In between it mixes with
all my worries
and cares and doubts.

How will this all work out?
What about x, y, z?
Why me, why now?

Indeed were it all up to me
Hope would not be enough.
But God is in the mix.
Breath of the Spirit.
Breathe of God.
Breath of life.
Love.

“Cast the anchor of hope
into the Heart of love,
and all things shall work together…”
-Mother Clare

Breathing in
Breathing out
Hope.