An Advent reflection by Emma.
As I watched Disney’s Frozen II I felt, at some level, understood. Some friends who saw the movie also noticed themes that resonate very much with what it is like to discern religious life, or to have a friend who is discerning religious life. The below is less of a review and more of a spiritual exploration of a few of those themes through soundtrack lyrics paired with scripture. To those who may feel a little frozen in their discernment journey after having left the monastery, I hope these reflections help you to see that you are not alone – that others are frozen too – and that there is hope, for indeed “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him” (Romans 8:28)
I’ve had my adventure, I don’t need something new
I’m afraid of what I’m risking if I follow you
Into the unknown
“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Matthew 14:28
Elsa rules peacefully rules over Arendelle in the company of her dear sister Anna and friends. She already had an adventure of self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and sisterly love, yet there is still more to be learned and growth to be had. She still doesn’t understand why she has cryokinetic powers and is simultaneously longing for a life where having such a gift makes sense, but that might mean leaving behind her tranquil, easy-going life… again.
Similarly, many of us who have been in religious life may feel like we have already had our adventure. We already made the sacrifice. We left home behind and followed Jesus out onto the water. We followed the calling with everything we had, and everything the Spirit was willing to give us. We grew in self-knowledge and matured in other ways through living religious life.
And now we’re back.
It’s too easy to think that I have already had the adventure of religious life and I don’t need anything new. It is hard to listen and discern when I’m not sure if I trust those movements in my heart anymore. It is be hard to consider risking everything… again. Yet I do have the qualities of a contemplative soul and desire to find a place where those gifts fit in. I am different. Not many people would be willing to leave family, friends, career, and everything else to wake up before 5 am every day and never again be able to choose what’s for breakfast. Of course, the secret is that underneath the sacrifice is a deep love and longing for God – a spousal love.
And so the call remains… to something. I remain confident that Jesus is calling me to consecrated life, yet the context remains unclear. So I try to trust. And ask Jesus to bid me come to Him on the water if indeed He is the one who is calling.
And with the dawn, what comes then?
When it’s clear that everything will never be the same again.
Then I’ll make the choice to hear that voice
And do the next right thing.
“But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices which they had prepared.” Luke 24:1
Another theme that appears in Frozen II is grief. This is definitely an emotion that I felt after leaving the monastery, especially toward the sister I was. Each sister is so unique in the way she loves God and the way she loves the other sisters, and the way she is loved by God and is loved by the other sisters. The fact that I left means that there will never be a sister in that monastery who is like that. Indeed, when a sister leaves the monastery or convent, things will never be the same again, and I remember wondering what is on the other side of grieving that loss.
I encourage you, wherever you find yourself, to do the next right thing. Perhaps the next right thing is spending a few minutes in prayer. Perhaps it is reaching out to a friend or priest for guidance. Perhaps it is going to Mass or Adoration. Perhaps it is simply finding enough motivation to go for a walk. The next right thing may not seem particularly remarkable, but each step taken out of love for Jesus is heroic. I encourage you, like Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, to go to the tomb. Because if you do, you will find the Resurrection – it just might not be right away though. Things will never be the same again, and that’s okay.
I’m dying to meet you
It’s your turn
Are you the one I’ve been looking for
All of my life?
I’m ready to learn
“Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?'” John 20:15
I’ll refrain from commenting on the context of this song so as to avoid spoilers, yet I wanted to include it because of how it mirrors contemplative prayer so well (note: the full song does contain spoilers). More than anything else after having left religious life, I needed to re-encounter the God I fell in love with. I needed to know that I was still loved by Jesus, when my emotions after leaving the monastery had me feeling rejected and abandoned. I found much healing here through praying in a way described by a bishop. His prayer in difficult moments was, “Lord show me how you are good here. Lord I want to see you in this situation” and he assures that when we pray in this way “God always comes through. And I mean always.” Through this prayer I was asking Jesus to show Himself, which is at the heart of the cry of a contemplative soul. I wanted to learn how he loved me through the difficult moments. I wanted to see how He was living His mysteries within my own life. I wanted to see God. As I began to pray in this way, moments of great suffering turned into moments of great intimacy with Jesus, and I’ve grown much in understading who I am to Him and who He is to me.
Where the north wind meets the sea
There’s a mother full of memory
Come, my darling, homeward bound.
When all is lost, then all is found.
“And Mary kept all these thing, pondering them in her heart.” Luke 2:19
This opening song of the film actually makes quite a beautiful Marian hymn. Mary, our mother, is full of memory. She watches over us and ponders moments of our lives in her heart. As St. Mary of Jesus Crucified says, “Mary counts your steps.” We have a mother who cares for us. Loves us. Nurtures us. Heals us. This Advent, I invite us to ask Mary to lend us her heart. I invite us to ask her to permit us to see as she sees. To feel as she feels. To know as she knows. To hear as she hears. To love as she loves. To ponder as she ponders. We have a Mother who is counting our steps to our eternal home, where truly all that we long for will be found.