All glory, praise and honor

Today is the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe. We end the liturgical year on this Sunday and will begin the Liturgical Year 2025 next week, with the First Sunday of Advent.

We don’t have any experience in the United States but we have watched more well-known monarchs, such as Queen Elizabeth II and King Charles III of the United Kingdom. Along with royal duties and governing of the countries for which they are responsible, we learn about the causes important to them, such as King Charles’ concern for the environment and sustainability. As we look at current and past history, we see the differences in leaders who care for their country and the people they serve, as opposed to those who seek power and control, regardless of the cost of human lives or property.

How then, do we approach this important day, and final Sunday, in the church calendar? What impact does it, or should it have, on our lives?

“This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for Jesus, the Christ.” The Prologue of the Rule of St. Benedict

I don’t know that I completely understood the meaning of these words from the Rule when I became an Oblate twenty years ago. I had a better understanding of what I was being asked to take on versus what I was being asked to surrender in life. As is true in life, our spiritual insight grows with time too. I desired a life of prayer for the monastery and for the world. I desired community with the Sisters of St. Benedict, St. Mary Monastery and with other oblates in our community or the world-wide Oblate community. I desired to grow in my spiritual life and saw living the life of an Oblate as a way to help me on that path.

While the charism of the Franciscans, Carmelites, Dominicans and Jesuits were (and are) close to my heart, and way of viewing the world spiritually, the Benedictine monastic influence spoke most strongly to my heart and way of living in the world. To use another phrase from an online community that is important to me, I wanted to be a “monk in the world“. I considered entering the Benedictine community as a religious, but the idea of being obedient to a prioress and a specific community wasn’t something I was willing to commit to.

Over time, most especially this past year, I have grown in my understanding of what service to the King really means. I have, and am, evaluating the things that I give my mind and attention, my time, and my resources to. I didn’t want to promise obedience to a prioress in a religious community but was I also avoiding my commitment and fidelity to Christ the King?

If I look at choices over the past 25 years, most weren’t bad choices (sadly there were times!) but they were based on wants vs. desires or needs. I try to live in a way that is representative of calling myself a Catholic Christian, or being a member of my parish community and an Oblate of a Benedictine community. But I was searching. I was looking for ways that those activities, or ways of being in the world, would help me spiritually and would fill me up. My desire lately has shifted to how my participation in life brings me closer in my relationship with God and helps me understand the gifts and talents I have so that they may be used in service of God and others. It’s a subtle difference but a dramatic one.

I was looking to grow spiritually because of how it made me feel versus how it prepares me to live a life with God forever. That doesn’t mean that we have to ignore desires and dreams for this life. I have learned that God desires those for us too. But as we look at all the gifts we have in life, which were given to us freely and as a way to know God better, we consider them and respond to God out of love and thanksgiving for them.

The Thanksgiving holiday this week gives us the perfect opportunity to look at our lives, the many ways we have been blessed, and offer thanks to God. As you reflect on all you have to be grateful for this year, I invite you to consider how you can use those gifts in service of God. How might you bring more light to a dark world? How can you bring hope in a time of despair? How might you offer resources or service to those in need? Are there small changes you can make that reflect a concern for our planet, to be a good steward of the Earth? Take this week, as an extended New Year’s Eve of the liturgical year, and contemplate whether your choices each day reflect your priorities in life. What King do you serve?

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: Artwork I purchased from the National Eucharistic Congress. “Christ the King, the Sacred Heart”, created by Ruth A Stricklin of New Jerusalem Studios.

Duc in altum

A little over three years ago I was discerning whether a part-time role on a virtual ministry team was the right opportunity for me. Since the ministry was founded by an author that I had read, I picked up Becky Eldredge’s book, The Inner Chapel, to read it again and get familiar with the person I was considering working for. Early in her book (Chapter 2 “Spiritual Growth is like Stepping into the Ocean”), Becky shared an image of her children at the ocean’s edge with varying degrees of confidence to enter the water to swim and play. Her eldest child was brave and ready to run headlong into the water. Her middle child was curious, ready to explore but more tentative about how deep she wanted the water around her to be. The youngest child was reluctant, initially, but then willing to play in the water but safely at the water’s edge.

As St. Ignatius, in the Spiritual Exercises, encourages us to do in prayer, I closed my eyes and entered a prayerful contemplation of standing at the ocean’s edge, considering my own desire after years of corporate work to go deeper in my journey of faith and to discover whether it was time to consider a role that would combine my skills at work and my desire to help others on their faith journeys. I saw myself walking confidently in the water but stopping with the water around my neck and my feet firmly planted on the sand beneath me. I felt safe but surrounded by the water with an occasional splash of a wave in my face. As I opened my eyes in the contemplation I saw Jesus ahead of me, deeper in the waters. With a curled index finger, he looked at me lovingly and said, “come deeper”. I paused, reluctant to move past the security of the footing I had beneath me. I looked at his eyes again, that inviting finger urging me forward, and I began to go deeper, keeping myself afloat with the support of the spiritual waters of grace. That imaginative prayer became my sign that it was time to move forward in faith. I was offered the position and accepted it, beginning a three year journey of ministry work.

A couple of weeks ago I prayed an Ignatian contemplation with Luke’s version (Luke 5: 1-11) of Jesus’ calling of the apostles. The apostles had been out fishing all night but Jesus sees them, coming back empty-handed, and invites them to cast their nets out again, on the other side of their boat. They are reluctant at first, even challenging Jesus, but cast their nets and bring in a huge haul of fish. They marvel at the miracle, express their faith, and begin their ministry life of following Jesus. As I prayed with this scripture, I heard Jesus invite me to cast my net, to “put out into the deep” (the meaning of the Latin words Duc in Altum), and not to be afraid.

Decision making and listening to the will of God in our lives isn’t always easy. We have our individual will and freedom, God will never ask that of us. But if we want to go deeper in our faith lives and relationship with God, we have to be willing to risk the unknown. Sometimes it might be an invitation just to enter the water a bit more, moving from ankle deep to knee deep waters. Sometimes it is casting a net in faith, unaware of the catch we will bring in. But always, always, Jesus is there to encourage us and let us know that we do not walk, or swim, alone.

Is there an invitation from God you have been hearing? Is it still a whisper or has God’s voice been beckoning louder? I offer these images of standing at the water’s edge, or hearing Jesus ask you to cast your net, for your prayer and consideration. Be willing to hear the invitation. You don’t have to rush, but if you listen, your life might never be the same!

Duc in altum, do not be afraid!

Wishing you abundance peace, Deena

Photo: one of the families on our Italy pilgrimage exploring the ocean edge in Nettuno.

Make my heart like your heart

Early this morning there was a beautiful frost on the ground. It wasn’t the first frost of the Fall but the scene stopped me and invited me pause and reflect on its beauty. As I sat to journal and do my Examen from Saturday, I watched the sun begin to grow higher and brighter in the sky, which then resulted in a slow and steady line of frost that was being melted by the sun. The patch of frost remaining, grew smaller and smaller. Eventually it was gone.

I thought about the human heart, the wounds we all hold and carry with us. The times we have been hurt and the times we have hurt others. Healing is a journey. It doesn’t happen overnight and I have learned I can’t do it on my own. In our human frailty, it’s not possible. We need the Love that always loves, always forgives, always desires what is best for us.

This past summer I developed a new interest and fondness to the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. As a Catholic I have grown up aware of the devotion but it’s never been a regular part of my prayer life. But I was praying for answers, for clarity and direction. Entering into prayer each day, using a novena prayer, I began a process of sharing all that was on my heart with Jesus. Then things got hard again and I stopped. (You can insert the game show buzzer at this point, “wrong answer!”)

When I learned that Pope Francis had written a new encyclical on the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I was excited, as if waiting for a gift on Christmas. I set my alarm this past Thursday, woke up early to visit Vatican News, and begin reading the encyclical, Dilexit Nos, a Latin expression that means “He has loved us”. I have had the time and space to spend more time reading it, and reflecting on the deep wisdom, this weekend. I already have my digital version marked up with favorite quotes and insights to ponder. It’s a beautiful treatise on the human and divine love of Jesus expressed through his Sacred Heart.

I have returned to one of the thoughts shared in the encyclical several times since reading it. Pope Francis says “If we devalue the heart, we also devalue what it means to speak from the heart, to act with the heart, to cultivate and heal the heart. If we fail to appreciate the specificity of the heart, we miss the messages that the mind alone cannot communicate; we miss out on the richness of our encounters with others; we miss out on poetry. We also lose track of history and our own past, since our real personal history is built with the heart. At the end of our lives, that alone will matter.” Later in that section, he says, “It could be said, then, that I am my heart, for my heart is what sets me apart, shapes my spiritual identity and puts me in communion with other people.”

My heart is what sets me apart.

Three times in his gospel, Luke writes that “Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” Over the past month or so, the idea of allowing myself to explore the deep desires and wounds in my heart has become stronger. I have begun to see an integral connection between my studies in counseling and the spiritual life. I want to dig in and study more about this relationship. I have heard Sr. Miriam James Heidland, SOLT, speak of this level of healing in many of her talks. She has said that “The past is the past unless it’s being lived out in the present”. We think we can mask the wounds and say “it doesn’t matter” or if we manage it well enough no one will notice, but can we? She speaks eloquently about the reasons for our behavior, that we are doing what we are doing because our hearts have been broken. We allow things to come out, in healing therapy or spiritual direction, so that we can heal them.

The best gift we can give ourselves is to take those wounds or concerns and bring them, open handed, and give them over to the wounded heart of Jesus who knows all the same hurts, betrayals, abandonment that we experience. But the difference is that Jesus is centered in love and his relationship with the Father. He will not judge, he will not condemn, he will only offer love and an invitation to come closer. “The heart of Jesus is ‘the natural sign and symbol of his boundless love.'”

The more we grow in trust of that Love, the more we are able to offer that love to others.

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like your own.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: A stained glass window of the Sacred Heart, St Scholastica and St. Gertrude at St. Scholastica Monastery in Fort Smith, Arkansas

Link to Dilexit Nos: https://www.vaticannews.va/en/pope/news/2024-10/he-loved-us-the-pope-s-encyclical-on-the-sacred-heart.html

Coming home to myself

I traveled as part of my job as a sales operations manager for a corporation before retiring. Most of my customers were on the west coast so it was almost always air travel from O’Hare Airport versus a car trip. As I returned from each business trip, traveling on interstates 294 and 55 then on to I80 which crosses Illinois from east to west, I would literally feel the tension in my body diminishing once I got past the distribution centers on 80 heading west toward the “Illinois Valley”. As I left the crowded industrial areas and began to see the corn and bean fields, even in the winter with no plants growing, I could breathe again. I knew I was headed home.

Lately I have felt a congestion in my spirit, much like traveling in those suburban areas near the airport. I let worrying about personal responsibilities and working too many hours fan a flame within. It was certainly my choice to work more due to some circumstances and tasks that needed to be completed for the ministry work I do. Regarding personal concerns, I know that worrying about life doesn’t change the circumstance but somehow I keep revisiting the concerns as if the more I think about it the more likely it will change. But like the taper that I use to put out the candles after Saturday Vigil Masses at my parish, I was slowly putting out a light within.

This week a friend and I returned to Anderson Japanese Gardens in Rockford, Il to see the colors of Fall in the lush gardens. The minute we set foot on the path leaving the Welcome Center, I took a deep breath of the cool Fall air, the smell of wood and leaves, and felt my body relax again. I relaxed to a place within that I hadn’t felt in months. We crossed the Giboshi Bridge, also called the “devotion bridge”, the Alaskan yellow cedar bridge with giboshi black finials on the posts, recently renovated, with the intention of leaving the dust of the world behind, as recommended by our docent during our visit in June. The trees, colors of the leaves, occasional mum in pots, the ducks and geese in the ponds, and the flowing waters helped bring about a sense of inner peace and contentment.

Later in the week I attended a discussion meeting, with other Benedictine Oblates, at the monastery of the Sisters of St. Benedict at St. Mary Monastery. We were discussing the process of invitation and formation of oblates to our Benedictine Oblate community. There are 25,000 Benedictine Oblates worldwide, each of us associated with specific monasteries or communities. Our monastery oblate groups are located within 7 locations in Central Illinois and Indiana. As the number of sisters at the monastery decreases, and the sisters age, we discussed how important it was to begin to take on the responsibilities of inviting new people to consider the oblate life of prayer and study. We acknowledged statistics that reflect a growing desire in men and women to find spiritual support and meaning beyond parish life. As we discussed our Benedictine values, and the oblate life we are committed to, again I felt a serenity within.

On the evening of the full “supermoon” this week, I shared an article on my personal Facebook page written by Brother Guy Consolmagno SJ, Director of the Vatican Observatory. Brother Guy recommended a daily practice of looking at the heavens each evening, even if just for a few minutes. He stated that by doing so we become attuned to the natural rhythms of our world and cosmos and are reminded of something greater than ourselves. But I would add that we also begin to sense our place in a greater purpose and reason for being. As I stepped outside after reading the article I gazed up at the gorgeous moon shining brightly in the evening sky and once again, I felt at home within. I felt peace and contentment. I felt alive.

This week I invite you to consider the times and places that you feel that you come home to yourself, places that you know you are being and in touch with your true authentic self and your relationship with God. If you haven’t been visiting those places, or doing things that make you feel alive in your spirit, what might you do so that you experience it again? It just might be as simple as looking at gorgeous Fall colors and breathing deeply!

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: The Giboshi Bridge at Anderson Japanese Gardens in October. I shared a photo of the bridge earlier this year in a post. The Fall colors beyond the bridge were stunning.

A weekend to relax

This week someone asked me what I did to relax, to find more joy, to play. I thought about that a long time, even after we discussed it. I was tempted to pass up a girls get together this weekend because it has been a long and super busy week at Ignatian Ministries. But my conversation reminded me that all the things will be there! All the household tasks that didn’t get done Saturday morning before leaving will be there for me next week. It’s time to pause…

So, this weekend I am taking time off from writing this blog. I hope this update finds you well and spending the day doing something that you love with family and friends.

Take a break, take a deep breath, look at the sky.

All the things will be there when you are ready to pick it up again.

Wishing you abundant peace and rest today! Deena

Photo: One of my favorite quiet places to look up at the skies and trees.

Landscapes of our lives

Besides living in upstate New York for a few years in the 60’s, I have lived in the Midwest all of my life. Even when I left Illinois to work for Electronic Data Systems on the General Motors account in Michigan, the move was only to a small suburb of Detroit. The seasons were almost exactly the same as Illinois.

The changing seasons have always been part of my life. As much as I am ready for Fall now, because of the excessive heat and humidity of this summer, I wouldn’t trade the seasons for anything. Each change of season becomes a threshold place, marking the “next thing” whether it was returning to school, beginning college, preparing for holidays or making goals for a new year.

For me the changing seasons – Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter remind me of the birth, growth, decline and rest or death in life, relationships, stages of becoming who we are over and over again, like a huge spiral continuing ever deeper.

Saturday morning as I drove past tall fields of corn on the way to the veterinary clinic for medicine and food for the cats, I enjoyed seeing the height of the corn stalks and reflected on how much they have grown since the little sprouts that are my favorite sign of Spring and seasons of planting. The bright blue expansive sky invited me to breathe deep after a busy week and relish the day.

While I was driving I was listening to the latest podcast, Fire and Light, with Tessa Bielecki and David Denny, two “urban hermits” in Tucson, Arizona. This month’s episode is “The Seed and the Space that Changed You.” Tessa and David describe their separate journeys to Sedona, their instant love of the red rock and open skies of the desert, and their eventual work together at the Spiritual Life Institute. Since then they have co-created Sand and Sky, the Desert Foundation exploring the wisdom of the desert in various spiritual traditions. I am more familiar with Tessa from her teaching and writing of St. Teresa of Avila but I love each new blog post and podcast and the conversations between Tessa and David. They have become two spiritual teachers of desert wisdom for me.

As they talked they posed questions about the landscapes that have been a part of our lives. They asked us to consider how the landscape formed us, what impact it had on us and how it might have influenced our relationship with the earth and with God. They also asked us to consider books or teachers that were pivotal in shaping who we are today.

As I listened I thought also of significant places on my journey and how they have formed me – living in Saugerties/Woodstock New York in the late 60’s, the Campus Ministry office at the private Catholic college I attended and the friends made while in college, the Newman Center during graduate school, my first job at a college as a counselor, the natural food shops and bookstores in Royal Oak, Mi., then moving back to Illinois and opening my own business and all my encounters with those who shopped there. Landscapes can be places and people, as much as the topography.

I invite you to spend some time thinking about the landscapes that have formed you, the people that inspired you and the places that have been important in becoming the person you are today.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: Sunsets in the Midwest are amazing! This photo was taken outside my home.

Tending the soil

By March or April I am ready for the spring flowers and sprouts of plants that begin to emerge in my flower beds. The early crocus, grape hyacinth, and jonquils bring bright color as the drab palette of winter begins to disappear for another year. I start checking out plants at the garden centers, dusting off the ceramic pots and deciding where I will use them and colors of plants that I will pair together. I buy good organic potting mix to help support the growth of the plants I will purchase. I start out so enthusiastic! I promise the plants I will do a better job of feeding them throughout the season.

Then June, July and August arrive. Frankly I do my best just to keep my plants watered daily. There just isn’t enough time for the care I want to provide. I let life get in the way of caring for my plants, which is also a way I renew my spirit.

This year I lost a couple of flowers in pots, in the back of the house, where they receive full sun every day. They were full sun plants but I guess the heat was too much for them. Yesterday I picked up replacement annuals for those pots and a new perennial for a spot I decided to pull out a plant that isn’t thriving. For some reason I found myself thinking about the daily gospel readings of this week, from the Gospel of Matthew, in which Jesus teaches with the parables of seed that falls on good, rich soil and the seed that is withered by the sun or doesn’t grow because of shallow or rocky soil.

Last week I mentioned the National Eucharistic Congress in my blog. My friend Kelly and I were supposed to attend as parish representatives. We were registered, had hotel reservations and were looking forward to a renewal, a revival in devotion to the Blessed Sacrament not only in our personal spiritual lives but for our parish. Then life happened. We each had different issues that arose so we had to be honest about our ability to attend the Congress. We knew we had to cancel. We knew it was the right decision but as it grew closer, we were also disheartened by our decision and not being with others in Indianapolis for this momentous event, the first Eucharistic Congress in 83 years.

I planned to watch the Revival sessions each evening, and as many other talks as I could, grateful for the gift of live-streaming and those covering the Congress making it accessible to those of us at home. But I was sad about not being there in person. Then the grace of the Holy Spirit surprised me with the extent of the impact of participating in the event remotely. Because of the tears and raw emotions I was feeling, I was probably better off watching from home. I could sing, cry, laugh and pray with only the cats wondering what the heck was going on. I felt a renewed spirit. I was challenged and convicted in areas that I need to take a deep look at. I continue to ponder the way I am using my gifts and how I might be called to use them differently or in new ways.

In closing his talk, Fr. Mike Schmitz, asked us to look at the areas of our lives where we put out the flame of love of God, the “fire extinguishers” or areas we let the world get in the way of a desire to love God more intimately. He also reminded us that we can’t take all the lessons and desires from Congress and jam them back into daily life without making some changes. I assessed that in my life. I committed to some daily changes and expanded prayer time in order to listen to God more closely.

Then almost a week later, stress and inner turmoil, set in just like the heat of summer, scorching my desires, just like it scorched the plants on my back patio. I chastised myself for only being able to keep my new promises for more than 4 days. Thursday and Friday were rough as I berated myself for not being dedicated enough. Then, reflecting on the scripture from this week, I found myself thinking that we have to nurture and tend the soil of our spiritual lives daily so that the birds don’t come and pluck the seeds of change away. The seeds in good, rich soil are not completely protected from the heat and the birds but they have a better chance of surviving. So I asked myself what I needed to do to make sure the seeds of my desire to spend more time in quiet contemplation were planted in deep and fertile soil.

The world will try to grab our attention and tell us that our desires are not possible or perhaps even worth working at. It will tell us that superficial pleasures are more valuable than inner peace and tranquility. It will tell us that our deepest desires are not possible. I think I would rather fertilize the soil and keeping working at it, even when it’s hard! If you find yourself in a similar place, don’t give up! I’m here for you, be assured of my prayers for each of you.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: flowers growing in a wooded area in Oregon, Illinois

A discerning spirit

On Friday I was chatting with Becky, the founder of Ignatian Ministries, the non-profit Ignatian virtual ministry that I work for. I shared with her a decision that I am holding and how I have been wavering as I decide the right thing to do. She reminded me to use the four steps of discernment, as we do with everything we do in our ministry. Ignatian discernment is not decision making from a strictly rational or practical perspective. It is noticing the movements of our heart and soul. All of who we are, our thoughts, feelings and emotions, are part of what we notice and bring to awareness as we use those insights to decide where God is leading us. Sometimes it is quick but often it will take time to really listen and notice how we feel as we consider the options we have in front of us.

As I continue to consider Who am I in God? What is God calling me to see, to be, to love in my life? in my personal life and in this blog for the past four weeks, discernment must play an important part in answering those questions. I thought about that as I read Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper this morning. She asked poignant questions after reading the final words of someone who had died, preparing those words before her passing, and after a trip to Asia to see one of her children working in Thailand. Maria asked: “What does it take to love the life we’ve been given? What does it take to be joyful, to feel we have enough, or even to feel like we won the lottery?” My personal answers to those questions have been becoming more clear lately but I acknowledge it is a process and I know that there is something that I need to do, in the near future, that will continue to bring clarity to my answers. What I do know, at this point, is that those answers lie in knowing our purpose in life.

I also believe that finding the answers, at least long term and deeply fulfilling answers, come from where we turn for them. Oh sure, people can find answers in living day to day and acquiring all the relationships and things in the world that they want but all you have to do is look at the current state of things in our world to know those don’t bring deep satisfaction.

Doing some research for a workshop I am helping to teach tomorrow night, John Hopkins reported, in their Mental Health Statistics (2024), that 18% of people ages 18-54 will have an anxiety disorder, 9.5% of American Adults ages 18 or over will suffer an illness labeled as depression (not just having a bad day, another study indicated that it means feeling depressed each day for two weeks or more) and 26% percent of Americans will be diagnosed with a mental health disorder every year. Those numbers are staggering to me! I think it gives us some indication that as Americans something is missing in our lives.

As I listened to two different reflections this weekend on today’s Gospel reading of Jesus calming the storm at sea (Fr. Carlson, my pastor at Holy Family Parish, and you know my other favorite, Bishop Barron!) both indicated each in their own way, Jesus is waiting for us to rouse him to help as we navigate the decisions and storms in life. If we continue to let Jesus sleep in the boat, if we attempt to go it alone, then we cannot expect the tranquility that the Christ can bring to our lives. In prayer and with prayer, I can invite Christ into the inner cave of the heart where I know and can find the answers and peace that I desire in life.

Are there storms you are navigating? Are there questions you are holding and just can’t seem to decide what to do? Do you have peace with your purpose and place in life? If not, maybe finding a new way to approach the answers, turning to prayer and discernment, just might be an option to try.

To learn more about Ignatian Spirituality, discernment and prayer follow our blog, Into the Deep, which I post weekly and also write for, as well as our upcoming retreats and courses. You can also read more about using discernment in your life by accessing the free prayer resource, The Four Steps of Discernment written by Becky Eldredge.

Photo: seaside port of Cascais, Portugal taken during my 2015 pilgrimage to Spain and Portugal

Springing to life

It’s been a glorious week in Illinois, even with the times of rain, wind and storm. It is feeling like Spring, maybe even late Spring with the warm 70-80 temperatures during the day this week. Everything is growing and lush around my home. The lilacs are close to full bloom, I actually prefer the deep purple they are now. My hostas and perennials are gorgeous. It’s time to start thinking and planning the annuals I will put in pots by the doors and on the patio. I purchased my favorite plant of each year, Ruellia brittoniana (Purple showers or Mexican petunias) which I hope to get in pots today. The fresh air and beautiful blossoming that is springing to life around me reminded me of special days and women that I reflected on this past week.

Last Monday was the Feast of St. Catherine of Siena, Italian mystic, lay Dominican and Doctor of the Church (one of four women Doctors of the Catholic Church). The image I included for this week is a sculpture in Siena that I saw while on pilgrimage. I love it and another statue of St. Catherine we saw because they show her passion and fierce spirit. Most paintings depict Catherine as pale and sickly. It is true she practiced excessive “holy fasting” with a diet that consisted of only water and vegetables and was considered anorexic (anorexic mirabilis or holy anorexic). But Catherine had a strong and bold spirit, bringing about unity of the papacy and convincing the pope to return to Rome after almost a century in France. My favorite quote of St. Catherine, that reflects her passion for following what she believed in is “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.” Catherine did this and lived her life with her eyes on God and with Heaven as the goal of her life.

Wednesday was May 1st, May Day or Beltane, one of the cross-quarter days of the Celtic Year. May Day symbolizes Spring to me, regardless of the weather. The sweet images of children bringing May Day baskets of flowers to neighbors symbolizes, to me, our coming outdoors from winter and sharing that joy with our neighbors and friends. May Day also reminds me of St. Hildegard of Bingen. Hildegard, another Doctor of the Church, was a medieval mystic, visionary, writer, herbalist, composer and artist. Hildegard was well-aware of the images of Beltane, the Green Man and used similar language when speaking of God and Earth images as a source of wisdom and power. Hildegard criticized the church, emphasizing that the criticism came from Spirit and not from her own perceptions. But after reviewing her writings and visions, Hildegard was encouraged to write her visions down by church leaders such as the Pope and St. Bernard of Clairvaux. She spoke of the goodness of the earth and God’s “greening power” or Viriditas, verdant “greenness”, and the creative power of life. Hildegard was another woman with deep faith, listening to God’s voice but, not afraid to move outside the constraints of her time on women. She was willing to speak boldly of her belief in the truth God was revealing to her. Similar to St. Catherine, Hildegard challenges us to “Dare to declare who you are. It is not far from the shores of silence to the boundaries of speech…you must be prepared to leap.”

In both of these women I also see their desire and commitment to, as Jesus speaks in the gospel for this Sixth Sunday of Easter, “remain in my love”. Both women, in their own way, remained true to the teachings of the Church but in sharing their wisdom, helped us see the truth of our relationship with God in an expanded way.

So I wondered what “remain in my love” means and how do I live that more fully in my life. Certainly it includes time of prayer and contemplation, listening and surrendering to the Word in the way God is calling me to live it and share my life in God with others. But it isn’t a passive love, it involves going forth, bearing fruit, and loving others. Those become the signs of remaining in God’s love.

I found a new website this morning, CatholicWomenPreach.org with a reflection on the gospel message. Meghan Larsen-Reidy shared that “love stems from a commitment.” She speaks of the commandment to form relationships and challenges us to look at whether we prioritize “the Divine and people over material possessions and appearances.” This commitment, she suggests, changes our actions, how we spend our time, money, how we care for others and for the planet.

Saints Catherine and Hildegard embody that commitment to God, to love, and to changing the world around us by the way we live the gospel invitation to remain in the love of the Divine.

My wish for all of us this week as we relish these days of Spring and new life around us are expressed in St. Hildegard’s poem, Viriditas.. I found this modern translation (fccucc.org) of Hildegard’s words, that keep to the meaning of her words but in a way easier for us to relate to.

Good people, Most royal greening verdancy,

Rooted in the sun,

You shine with radiant light, in this circle of earthly existence.

You shine so finely, it surpasses understanding.

God hugs you. You are encircled by the arms of the mystery of God.

With a grateful heart, Deena

Standing at the threshold

Here we are, at the threshold of Holy Week, Palm Sunday. This week, the holiest of all weeks in the church year is our final week of Lent, leading us to Easter. Just as Jesus entered the gates of Jerusalem, we stand at the gate of this special week, prepared to journey with Jesus. Regardless of how our Lent was, how well we did on our Lenten promises, we can embrace this week with intention to enter into the mysteries of Christ’s suffering and death, leading to the Resurrection, the ultimate victory over death for each of us. It is a week of beautiful and moving Church liturgies, I would encourage you to attend as many services this week as you can.

Regardless of your church affiliation, most Christian denominations have Holy Week Services. If yours does not or has not been one in the past that motivates you to want to return, find a parish or church that has an active community. Last week I visited Christ the King Parish in Moline, IL (after Mass we witnessed the baptism of Wilder, the son of my niece Maureen and her husband Ben) and the priest asked the catechumens to come forward after the homily. They had more than 20! It’s a vibrant parish community as indicated by the number of people seeking to join the Church and that parish family! It was amazing and gives me hope.

This week I began reading William Barry’s Experiencing God in the Ordinary Barry invites us to consider that we don’t have to look for God in special places, we don’t have to go somewhere (“away”, to a retreat or monastery) to experience God, God is present to us in ordinary ways and experiences. In his introduction Barry wrote that it is true that some places make it easier for us to have that experience, that some places are “thin places” (as the Irish Celts would say) for us where God is able to break through to us more easily. I would suggest that Holy Week is one of those thin places or times. As we move through each of these holy days this week, we can more tangibly experience the presence of Jesus in our lives, as we walk with him during his final hours.

I have found that many are not aware of the various services of Holy Week and what they represent. If you are, I hope there is some tidbit of information for you in this explanation.

Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday and then concludes with the Triduum, the final holy days of Lent, Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday, we walk through and with Jesus during the final days of his triumphant entry on Palm Sunday into Jerusalem, his final supper with his apostles, his arrest, torture and crucifixion, death and burial. Then on Easter, we rejoice in the Resurrection.

On “Spy Wednesday” we recall Judas betrayal of Jesus for the thirty pieces of silver. We might reflect on the many ways we have betrayed Jesus in the way we live and treat others.

Triduum begins on Holy Thursday (Maundy Thursday) as we commemorate Jesus’ washing of the apostles feet (an act representing our need to be of service to all) and his final Passover meal, the Last Supper, with them. As Catholics, we celebrate the institution of the Holy Eucharist. The altar is then stripped bare, leaving us with the starkness of the cross for Good Friday. Many parishes create an Altar of Repose, a beautiful space created with flowers and palm trees, with the Blessed Sacrament in a tabernacle. We are encouraged to visit different Altars in the community, to spend quiet time in prayer with Jesus in the garden.

For Catholics, Good Friday Service, is not a Mass but a time that we pray with the Passion of our Lord, have a Communion Service, and then venerate the cross. It is a solemn remembrance of all that Jesus suffered and endured for each of us. Because it is not a Mass and the Eucharist has been removed, we don’t kneel before the tabernacle, the Blessed Sacrament is no longer there. Holy Water is also removed until Easter Vigil, when the water is blessed again for Baptism. In the past local parishes have also had Tenebrae Services, a moving service of the psalms of lament and a slow extinguishing of candles throughout the readings. It then usually ends with a loud noise, in almost total darkness, representing the closing of the tomb that held the body of Jesus.

Holy Saturday morning is a time of silent waiting, concluding with the most beautiful service of the church year, the Mass of Easter Vigil. We light the Easter fire, burning old palms, as the new Easter candle for the year is prepared and from that new candle, representing the Light of Christ, we each light our candles to begin the Vigil Mass. In the midst of that beautiful candlelight, a deacon, cantor or priest sings the Exsultet, the Easter Proclamation, an ancient (7th or 8th century) hymn of praise. It is the most beautiful part of Easter Vigil. You may enjoy listening to this version by Glenstal Abbey in Ireland. It is during this Mass that any new members of the Church are welcomed, receive their first sacraments and join fully in the participation of the Holy Mass.

Each Holy Week, and through the Triduum services, I recall my spiritual teacher and mentor saying to me, the first time we met, to “enter the deep, dark incense filled corners of the church” and really experience the ritual and liturgy of the Church. That wise advice helped me find meaning in each of these beautiful liturgies, regardless of any feelings that I have for the church at any particular time or in reaction to any particular teaching that a more conservative priest or bishop might pronounce. We are all human and capable of sin and error, but Holy Week reminds us that Christ died for each of us. My goal is to keep paying attention, to look for God in the places that God seeks to communicate with me, to do my best to get to know this God of tender love and compassion and then make a return of love, in response to that generous love, with my life.

I hope that this Holy Week is one of deep connection with God and that you find many blessings as you are able, and choose, to participate in the beautiful liturgies of the Church. Deena

Photo: Taken during my pilgrimage to Italy in 20923, the Sancta Sanctorum is a Roman Catholic chapel entered via the Scala Sancta (Holy Stairs) of the Lateran Palace in Rome. The photo is the chapel at the top of the stairs. It is believed that the white marble stairs were brought to Rome by St. Helena and were stairs used by Jesus as he walked toward his crucifixion.