Mercy and a Fresh Start

Mercy and a Fresh Start

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Here I am, at the beginning of three days off. I began well enough, attending morning mass with a handful of other parishioners, most of whom are regulars in the mornings. I’m not. My friend, Fr. Denis, greeted me with his dazzling smile and a hug. “What a good surprise to have you here. Maybe today’s readings will provide you with a story for your work.”

As Denis said in his homily, he read the short version of the account from Daniel, figuring we could fill in the other few pages that read like modern soap operas. Nothing changes. In the Old Testament reading, two old men with egos smarting after a beautiful young woman spurned their sexual advances, accused her of adultery. They couldn’t get their stories straight when questioned by Daniel, and instead of condemning the woman, Daniel pronounced a gruesome punishment for her accusers: being split in two by sword-wielding angels.

The New Testament reading featured adultery as well. This time the woman had been caught in the act. They guy as well, I presume, since it takes two, but he slipped away unscathed, leaving the woman to face the righteous crowd eager to stone her to death. Enter Jesus. He bends down and draws something in the sand, then instructs the one who has not sinned to throw the first stone. Well, that pretty well doused their enthusiasm, and they walked away, forced to reflect on their own sins. Jesus didn’t condemn anyone; he simply instructed the woman to go and sin no more.

Forgiveness and mercy. Encouragement. And a dose of reality: None of us is without failings. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to focus on the sin outside of us rather than what’s closer to home. It’s the old story of getting all worked up over the speck in your neighbor’s eye while ignoring the log in your own.

The story I took away from mass wasn’t the ever-present struggle with weakness and the propensity to do what we know isn’t good for us or for the world. Like letting water run when you brush your teeth. Or pouring pesticides that kill bees on your garden. Or wasting time or food. Or  letting anger and anxiety get the best of you instead of “being peace.” Or ranting about the sorry state of Congress.

No. I walked out of there grateful that Jesus didn’t call down avenging angels or condemn anyone, but instead invited them to reflection and a fresh start.

I drove home and indulged in celebration of my three days off by making and sharing blueberry pancakes and bacon with my daughter. Someone once told me that we should seize every opportunity to celebrate, and I follow that advice as often as possible.

Then, instead of getting right to work on all the things I hoped to accomplish in the next seventy-two hours, I succumbed to distractions like buying a coffee while shopping for a few groceries, cleaning the kitchen, and checking email. Not bad. Then I played two games of spider solitaire. Talk about wasting time. It takes awhile because when it becomes obvious that the game is bound to end with a low score, I don’t finish it, but start over, hoping for better cards.

Flipping the cover down over my iPad, I lit my prayer candle and finally settled into work on a book project and readings for a class, counting on Jesus’ mercy and a fresh start.

© 2015 Mary van Balen

Love Rules the Day: St. Scholastica

Love Rules the Day: St. Scholastica

PHOTO:Mary van Balen

PHOTO:Mary van Balen

Originally appeared in The Catholic Times, Feb 8, 2015

Tuesday, February 10 is the feast of Saint Scholastica. What we know of her comes from St. Gregory the Great’s famous biography of St. Benedict, though other stories were later written about her. Scholastica is Benedict’s twin sister, both born into a wealthy family of Nursia, Italy in 480. As was the custom, Benedict went to Rome to study while Scholastica likely lived in a convent where she learned to read and write as well as participated in the prayer life of the nuns.

Some stories recount her founding a religious community near her brother’s monastery at Monte Cassino, and becoming prioress. The most famous account of her, though, is found in chapters 33 and 34 in Book II of Gregory’s Dialogues.

As was their custom, once a year Benedict, accompanied by some of his monks, met his sister at a house partway between her convent and his monastery. They shared food and conversation concerning spiritual matters. On this particular visit, just three days before her death, Scholastica wanted her brother to stay longer. Perhaps she sensed it would be their last time together. They talked until darkness fell, and she asked him to spend the night “…that they might spend it in discoursing of the joys of heaven.”

Benedict would have none of it, saying that he couldn’t spend the night away from the Abbey. That was the rule, after all.

Not giving up, Scholastica put her head down on the table, laying it on her folded hands, and prayed. As she prayed, a storm came and filled the clear night sky with thunder and lightening. She lifted her head, tears streaming from her eyes, and heavy rain poured from the heavens. Benedict and his monks couldn’t return to the Abbey in such a storm.

“God forgive you, what have you done?” Benedict asked. Scholastica answered with a bit of attitude: “I desired you to stay, and you would not hear me; I have desired it of our good Lord, and he has granted my petition. Therefore if you can now depart, in God’s name return to your monastery, and leave me here alone.”

Of course, Benedict and his monks spent the night, the brother and sister enjoying long conversations until morning. Love, it seemed, trumped the Rule, at least in this case. As St. Gregory wrote: “He found, however, that a miracle prevented his desire. A miracle that, by the power of almighty God, a woman’s prayers had wrought. Is it not a thing to be marveled at, that a woman, who for a long time had not seen her brother, might do more in that instance than he could? She realized, according to the saying of St. John, “God is charity” [1 John 4:8]. Therefore, as is right, she who loved more, did more.”

Whether truth or legend, the story shows the power of love and the importance of listening with the heart. Benedict was right in stating that he and the other monks should return to the monastery. Yet, Scholastica’s desire, born of deep affection for her brother and her longing to continue their conversation and praise of God together, was worthy of bending the rules, even Benedict’s.

How often are we confronted with such a choice? Can you recall times when rigidly holding fast to a tradition or rule has worked not to foster growth and love, but instead to injure and alienate? Clinging to what we think we know is “right” may blind us to the reality of others’ lives and wisdom.

Rules and traditions are important. Benedict’s Rule has proven itself over centuries, leading monastics, helping them live, work, and pray together in community. It has also been a guide for many as they strive to balance prayer, work, study, and recreation in their lives with family and friends, and in their workplaces.

Benedict understood the necessity of responding to particular moments and particular needs in ways that are outside the usual response. His Rule is full of such examples. Still, in this story, it was Scholastica who was listening with the ear of the heart and who found God listening to her.

© 2015 Mary van Balen

A Quiet Priest

A Quiet Priest

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

As is her custom, a friend of mine invited some women friends to her home for a Holy Thursday prayer and dinner. This year, four of us gathered around her table, sang, read a reflection, and shared food. During the evening, she told us each was invited because of the ministries we have been living for years. One woman was the first (and surprising to me) the only Black American principal in her diocesan school system. She remembered flaming crosses lit along the street the day she was appointed. She continues to work with young people and is active in the Ladies of Peter Claver association. Another woman has been organizing her parish’s religious education for years. Our hostess particularly noted her work with the teens and how she has been able to encourage and inspire them, not easy task as anyone who works with young people know.

Our friend chose to focus on my ministry of writing columns, articles, and books, which has spanned decades. At the moment, waiting is a big part of my “work,” waiting for an agent to find a home for my latest book. And our hostess is well-known in the area for her work with women, often poor and marginalized. The list of her work would take a post of its own, but her prophetic voice has always spoken clearly for the truth she knows, no matter how her message is received.

After dinner and before dessert, we prayed together and blessed one another, poured water over hands that have worked hard over the years to be priest to God’s people. Of course, all are called to holiness, as Vatican II documents proclaim. All share in the common priesthood of Christ through their baptism. Still, as I sat in the presence of these women, I wondered again about the Catholic Church’s refusal to admit women to the order of priesthood.

I thought about women around the world who know the call from God, they know themselves to be “priest,” and yet they must do their work quietly. Often, their efforts meet resistance. I read that Pope Francis is open to the idea of married men being ordained. He doesn’t seem so open to ordaining women.

As I sat with these women and prayed, I gave thanks for those women who, called to priest God’s people in a special way, do so as best as they are able, faithful to their call, even if the Roman Catholic institution has yet to recognize what is being lived before their eyes.

DEEPENING: 3  Hopspitality

DEEPENING: 3 Hopspitality

smoking candleChapter 53 of the Rule of Benedict gives direction on how to receive guests at the abbey. The first thing? “All guests who present themselves are to be received as Christ, who said, “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me” (Matt 25,35). When my children were young and knocked on the door of my small home office, I tried to remember that. They weren’t distractions, interrupting my work, they were Christ, they were inviting me to hospitality, although I often fell short of this monastic ideal.

Day three of my “Deepening” project reminded me of this call. I had set my alarm and risen early in order to spend time  in quiet prayer before heading to my physical therapy session. I dressed, put the candle on the table, lit it, and settled into the chair.

Breathe in. Breath out. A knock at the door.

The friend taking me to my appointment had arrive a half hour early. Having gone to Mass, she arrived, carrying her breakfast.

” I thought I could eat while you’re getting ready,” she said.

“Sure. I haven’t eaten either,” I said as I walked quickly into the dining room, blew out the candle, and placed it back onto the wrought iron candle holder. Using up batter I had kept from a few days ago, I cooked up  a few pancakes and covered them with maple syrup.

Benedict instructs the monks to receive the unexpected guest with generosity. Nothing, not prayer, not fasting, nothing is more important than this person at your door. They are to stop what they are doing, Abbot and all, and make the guest welcome. Rooted in prayer, the hospitality includes food, and anything else needed to make the stranger comfortable. Share their table, their prayer, their place of rest.

At that moment, Christ is encountered in flesh and blood…not quiet prayer.

……..

Holy One who receives me always with welcoming embrace, even when my mind wanders and I find myself mentally ticking off my “to dos” for the day instead of quietly resting in your Presence, help me welcome all into my home, into my life and heart, no matter how busy I am. No matter my plans.  You are gracing my day with something greater. You are present to me in the one at my door.

Showing God’s Merciful Face

Showing God’s Merciful Face

Fountain, Rome, Italy, Egyptian Obelisk

Fountain in Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Fountains are everywhere in Rome. Many famous. Many not. The amazing thing about them is their water is fresh, clean enough to drink. “Keep your water bottle,” my daughter advised when she saw me draining the last drop early in the morning. “We can refill it at the fountains all day long.”

How right she was. People of all ages crowded around the fountains, catching streams of clear, cold water in their plastic bottles. At some places, water in a bottle was not enough, and people put their heads under the spouts or stepped into the shallow pools to find relief from August heat.

I have to hand it to Pope Francis. Rome in August is not for the faint-hearted. His choice to forgo a month in the summer residence takes stamina. So did his trip to Brazil for World Youth Day and his good humor during a long press conference aboard the plane on his return to Rome.

What I find as welcome as water pouring out of Rome’s fountains is the kindness and humility coming from the heart of the new pope. While not signaling changes in Church teaching on homosexuality, which many hope will come eventually, Pope Francis shows God’s merciful face when confronted with the issue.

Responding to questions about the possibility of discovering a gay priest in his service, he said “Who am I to judge a gay person of goodwill who seeks the Lord? You can’t marginalize these people.”

Vatican, Saint Peter's Square

Fountain in St. Peter’s Square, Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Later on, according to an AP article quoted in a post by Paul Brandeis Raushenbush on Huffington Post’s Religion page, he took reporters to task for asking about an aide who had beensuspected of involvement in a gay tryst ten years ago. That was not an issue of criminal behavior, as abusing children. It was a matter of sin, he said. When someone sins and confesses, God both forgives and forgets.

“We don’t have the right to not forget,” he said.

Refreshing.