Tag: Sr. Kathryn

Promises! Elizabeth said to Mary, “Blessed are you for believing that what was promised to you would be fulfilled.”

Those words could be repeated to Mary at the foot of the cross as her son was dying, “Blessed are you, O Mary, for believing that what was promised to you would even now be fulfilled.”

They could be proclaimed at Pentecost, “Blessed are you who believed what was promised! It shall be fulfilled!”

They were sung at the moment of her Assumption into heaven, “Blessed, most blessed among all earth’s women, are you, Mary, for you believed, you never wavered, even in suffering you were steadfast in the certainty that God would keep his promises to you.”

Life is hard enough at times, and I think too often we forget the promises God has made to us, words of power that will keep any storm from overwhelming our fragile boats. 

Elizabeth and Mary were two women—one too old to bear a child and the other barely a child herself—who became the channel of God’s mercy poured out through his Son in the redemption of the world: Jesus Christ, fulfillment of the Promise.

Both Elizabeth and Mary may have felt that this vocation was beyond their personal capacity…but they believed that what God had begun in them he would bring to completion in his own way, in his own time, through his grace. They knew there were no guarantees, there was no way to control or manipulate the future. What was left to them was praise and joyful wonder at what God was doing in and through them.

In the Responsorial Psalm we hear their quiet joy and firm and solid hope:

God indeed is my savior;
    I am confident and unafraid.
My strength and my courage is the LORD,
    and he has been my savior….

Shout with exultation, O city of Zion,
    for great in your midst 
    is the Holy One of Israel.

What is God doing in you? Like Elizabeth and Mary take some time today to notice, to sing, to rejoice, to believe, to trust. “God indeed is my Savior, I am confident and unafraid.”

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In today’s readings, I can almost feel the excitement and the joy of God as he created the heavens and the earth “in the beginning.” We feel pride and satisfaction when we create something as simple as a poem, a photo on our phones, a new dish to please a friend, or a wall in our home tastefully decorated with family photos. There is a warmth in our hearts as we share something beautiful and meaningful with others. Something we conceptualized and made ourselves. 

“And God saw how good it was….” The world is beautiful, and it is God’s magnificence that is revealed in all that God has created, from the tallest mountain to the tiniest flower. 

In the Gospel, Jesus is creating health, wholeness, goodness, healing. His touch is returning people to community. His touch is making sad faces smile, and filling burdened hearts with laughter. Gratitude is streaming through the people as they scurry about to share Jesus’ love with as many people as possible.

How good is the good God.

When you are creating, healing, holding, you are radiating the goodness of the God who creates, heals, and restores us to life and holds us in his love. 

These days there is much reason for our eyes to be filled with tears and our hearts broken with sorrow. Let us be God-like and not allow the darkness to blind our eyes to the truth of the good God’s heart who is even now unfolding his giving love, bringing about the reign of his heart. 

When I feel alone today, I think I will try to remember that God has personally walked this earth as Creator and Redeemer for me, for us. Today’s Gospel reminds me that Jesus personally reached into the lives of the broken in order to reassure them that their creation was no accident, and nothing can hinder the meaning of their lives. We are each created by the hand of God, saved by the life of Jesus, and sanctified by the breath of the Spirit. 

How good the good God is.  

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Today is the 25th anniversary of the day of prayer for women and men in consecrated life, instituted in 1997 by Pope Saint John Paul II. The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord is a beautiful day to celebrate the gift of consecrated life in the Church. In the liturgy for the Feast of the Presentation, candles are blessed symbolizing Christ who is the light of the world, and those who have consecrated their lives to God are called to reflect the light of Christ to the world. (The observance of the World Day of Consecrated Life in the US has been transferred to the following Sunday.)

One of the key figures who appears in the Gospel today is Simeon. Of all the people in the Temple that day when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus there to present him to the Lord, only Simeon and Anna recognized the baby as the longed-for Messiah. Luke states three times that Simeon was a man immersed in the power of the Holy Spirit. “The Holy Spirit was upon him,” he knew that he wouldn’t see death before he had seen the Christ of the Lord “because it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit.” And finally, that day, “he came in the Spirit to the temple.”

Simeon lived under the guidance and impulse of the Spirit so he could see things that others could not. He could see and proclaim what God was doing. He could see how grace was at work. “My eyes have seen your salvation,” he cried out. Can you imagine the joy of this old man that the mystery he had waited for decades to touch was now held in his arms. 

Last year, on this day, Pope Francis reflected upon Simeon’s words at a Mass celebrated for Religious. I want to use them as the basis for my thoughts here with you. In the dark and chaotic situation in our world today, all of us need to be able to see salvation, to see in our life God’s faithful gift, to witness God’s love at work in the world.

My eyes have seen your salvation! God’s gift even in moments of darkness and powerlessness. It is the tempter that tries to keep us focused on what hasn’t been, what we’ve lost, what we’ve been unjustly deprived of. 

My eyes have seen your salvation! God’s gift in fragility and weakness. It is the tempter who hides the light and whispers to us: “You are no good. God can’t love you. Look at how little you love God. What have you done for him?”

Pope Francis described what happens to us, “We no longer see the Lord in everything, but only the dynamics of the world, and our hearts grow numb.  Then we become creatures of habit, pragmatic, while inside us sadness and distrust grow, that turn into resignation.”

To see correctly, to see in truth, we need to be like Simeon, we need to be able to perceive God’s grace for us. We need to see salvation, to look at what God is doing.

Instead of focusing on thoughts and feelings about what is happening in our lives and within our hearts, thoughts and feelings that disorient us, Simeon shows us how to be led by the Spirit, inspired by the Spirit, filled with the Spirit. It takes a lot of courage to turn our eyes away from ourselves, to turn our attention away from the tempter and to lift them instead to the Lord. It takes courage to believe that God is at work even when everything we see around us seems to be falling apart.

On this Feast of the Presentation, even if you can’t get to church for Mass, light a candle, be warmed by the flame, be filled with the light that burns bravely in the darkness and braves even the wind…. May this candle remind you to see the Lord, the Light of the World, in everything. May it remind you that your life is happiest when it revolves around God’s grace. Courageously hold up the candle to a window, in front of the newspaper or your Twitter account or Facebook page and proclaim, “My eyes have seen, O Lord, your salvation!”

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One of my favorite images of the Conversion of St. Paul is found in the Apostolic Palace and is pictured here. It was painted by Michelangelo between 1542 and 1546. January 25 is a big deal for us Daughters of St Paul. St Paul’s conversion is the only conversion celebrated liturgically and it is such a powerful day for us who try to live the experience of St Paul in intimate prayer and courageous evangelization. For this to happen in our own lives, we too need to go through a Damascus event as did Paul.

At the center of our spirituality is Christ, and his desire to possess us entirely. Every thought pattern and attitude and tendency of our personality. Every desire, preference, behavior…. Everything without exception. This is quite different from making New Year’s resolutions at the beginning of January! In the Conversion of St. Paul it is Christ who comes to meet Paul where he is, in his frailty (although Paul thought he was someone important doing something significant).

There are several aspects of this painting of St. Paul’s conversion by Michelangelo which attract me very deeply. At the top of the image, which doesn’t appear here, is the person of Christ reaching down to Paul through a column of light. There are many people milling around in this image, but Paul is clearly the one who is addressed by Jesus. And Paul is the one who must take responsibility, take the risk, and answer. Isn’t it that way with us, in our unique call from the Lord?

Another aspect of this image which attracts me is the way Paul is almost held by one of the characters in the image. The circular image that is created by the arms of the person reaching down to him, as well as the position of Paul’s body, is almost soft, receptive, intimate. This is not Caravaggio’s strong blinded Paul fallen from his horse. This is a Paul who is being drawn into the mystery of God’s plan for his life and the way God will use Paul to announce the Gospel to the world. It was absolutely moving for me to pray in front of this painting in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican a couple of years ago, and to see on the other side of the chapel the depiction of the crucifixion of St. Peter. Two men who were flawed and frail and human who allowed God to do with them all that he desired. 

This is what God desires for you and me. We too have our Damascus events. They aren’t as stunning as what we call the conversion of St. Paul, but they can be nonetheless life-changing. I include here a prayer of our community which reflects on the challenge of our own Damascus events.

Light and darkness,

sight and blindness,

power and weakness,

control and surrender.

The “Damascus event” in Paul’s life is often played out in my own,

though in a less dramatic manner.

Lord Jesus, I meet you in so many ways:

sometimes in silence and prayer,

or by stumbling to the ground of my existence.

As I journey through the days of my life,

stop me,

call out my name,

send me your dazzling light,

and take hold of me as you took hold of Paul.

Even when I kick against the goad,

even when I lack courage or when fatigue overtakes me,

even when I fall again or lose my way—

in all these moments I trust that you are with me

and that your grace is sufficient for me.

Like Paul, let me know how to be companioned by others,

allowing myself to be led by those who can point out the way to you.

Help me to be willing to listen to what you are saying to me through them.

As you sent Paul on mission, I ask that you send me forth,

to those persons with whom I am to share your Gospel.

Give me, like you gave Paul, the words and gestures

that will reveal your mercy to me,

and the love you bear for every person you have redeemed.

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