Nov 24, 2017 |
Dear sister, may the love of God, the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you!
I write this letter to you, my sister in Christ, who has had the courage and love to respond to a desire, an invitation, and a mystery: to belong wholly to God. You prayed, you strove to discern if this was a call to religious life, and you took a leap of faith. Now you are at a new stage in your discernment, one which is no less a leap of faith. You have left the community in which you lived, prayed, worked, laughed, cried, loved, and have come back into the “the world.” Please do not believe that you are alone. I want you to realize that there is a community of women throughout the world who have also made this step in and out of the convent. For many, if not all, this journey to and from has come with great sacrifice.
Dear sister, the Lord knows your sacrifice. The Lord knows our going and coming and He accompanies us on each step. Psalm 121:8 “The LORD will guard your coming and going both now and forever.” The journey you are on may be sorrowful or joyful—either way, the Lord intends to journey with you. “For the Lord will not abandon his people nor forsake those who are his own.” (Psalm 94:14).
Recently, my spiritual director shared with me about an article he read wherein a novice mistress sadly described the wounds that women carry when they leave the convent. She noticed that for many, who believed that they were to become the “bride of Christ,” leaving felt like a divorce, a rejection. The pain of this wound can be felt so acutely, it leads women out of the Church.
I would like to say to these women: your grief is real, your wounds are real, but please do not confuse your pain with how Jesus feels about you. Please do not believe that He no longer cares. Jesus does not reject anyone who comes to Him (even if it may feel like it and even if you say: well, I have left Him). Sometimes we may be tempted to imagine ourselves as that “ideal sister” we thought we were called to be, to the point of losing our own identity. We compare ourselves to that image of a “fervent aspirant” or “generous postulant” that was ready to do whatever God asked. Then, at some moment along the way of our discernment, we realized that we cannot live up to that ideal. What do we do with this realization?
A major moment of insight and growth came to me in prayer one day (after I had already left the convent) when the Lord lovingly revealed to me that my offering to Him was lacking something. I didn’t understand at first, thinking I had given up everything. But He told me that my offering lacked something personal. As I pondered this, I realized that I wasn’t being authentic with Him because I had been striving to live up to what was asked of me as a sister, while not offering everything that was really happening inside my mind and heart. I was burying the real me in favor of an image of who I thought I should be. What I was trying to offer to God was something other than me.
When Jesus said in John 6:37, “Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me,” He did not intend this statement to be true only if you become a nun. Jesus said two very important words: everything and anyone. Can you exclude yourself from this invitation to hope? So, if you feel rejected, alone, and are struggling (I totally get that—I cried every day for two straight months when I realized I was leaving the convent), please reach out to someone you can trust. Jesus did not give us the grace of courage and love to enter religious life, only to abandon us and expose us to useless pain. “The gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.” (Romans 11:29). Please, do not lose sight of what you have received in Christ.
In Baptism, you are a beloved daughter of God, a temple of the Holy Spirit, called to intimate communion with the Most Holy Trinity and all the members of the Body of Christ. You are beloved and you belong. You are called by name and have a real family that prays for you throughout the world. God has a purpose and a mission for your life which is a secret of His love and Providence. In Confirmation you were sealed with the Spirit with an eternal seal of love.
So please remember, Bride of Christ, that your soul remains His. As a member of the Body of Christ, you remain His Bride. You are that betrothed, chaste virgin spoken of in St. Paul’s letter (2 Corinthians 11:2). Not wanting anyone to be led away from the love of Jesus which remains and endures forever, I share in the sentiment of St. Paul because I too love you, my sister in Christ, and I pray that you may continue to know the love of God and the peace of Christ “that surpasses understanding” (Philippians 4:7) as you continue your courageous and loving journey into the arms of God.
– Aimée Dominique
Oct 5, 2017 |
By MJ
Roses Among Thorns, Simple Advice for Renewing Your Spiritual Journey by St. Francis de Sales, published by Sophia Institute Press.
St. Jane de Chantal was the foundress of the Visitation sisters (Visitandines), along with St. Francis de Sales, her spiritual director. St. Francis is known for his keen counsels. This book contains 60 excerpts of some his most poignant and sweet advice, and it does just as the title promises: it renews your spiritual journey.
On the practical side, what I liked about this book, is that it is short, almost pocket size, so you can carry it anywhere. And, the excerpts are only a couple of paragraphs long so you can make a short meditation of it, or even read and re-read the same excerpt until the words really sink in. You can also read the excerpts as you wish: pick a topic per day; chose a topic at random; or read it cover to cover, it doesn’t matter – you will find it uplifting and full of hope.
On the spiritual side, I’ve always found St. Francis the Sales to be kind and honest, never condemning or harsh. If you’ve read “Divine Intimacy” or any other of his books you will realize why he is the model of spiritual directors. His style is personable, gentle and encouraging! It is as if a friend that knows you well was speaking with you.
For example under the topic: A Time of Depression, St. Francis writes:
“A melancholy humor has overcome you for a time, and from being sorrowful, you have become anxious. Do not let yourself become anxious. Do not lose your peace. Even though it seems to you that you do everything without any savor, feeling or strength continue to embrace our crucified Lord, and give him your heart, consecrate your mind to him with your affections just as they are…”
My humble and personal advice is that you pray to the Holy Spirit before reading any excerpt in this book, and imagine it is a good friend speaking to you. It will really soothe your spirit, it did mine. I am so happy to share this little gem with you. I hope you also enjoy it.
Sep 13, 2017 |
By Lucia Delgado.
Around this time 3 years ago, I made a decision to end discernment to religious life. It seems that I was doing the call for a priest who believed that I was called to this vocation. Deep down inside, I knew God was calling me to a different lifestyle.
Fast forward to 3 years later, I’m engaged to be married. My fiancé and I await the day when we start marriage preparation.
While there are people who are excited for us, there are those who don’t believe we should be married at all. Some people believe that I am still called to religious life especially a couple of priests.
Confusion and doubts settle in my heart. With help from the Holy Spirit, I was guided to read this Sunday’s readings for Mass.
From the prophet Jeremiah:
“All those who were my friends
are on the watch for any misstep of mine.
‘Perhaps he will be trapped; then we can prevail,
and take our vengeance on him.’
But the LORD is with me, like a mighty champion:
my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph.
In their failure they will be put to utter shame,
to lasting, unforgettable confusion.”
Throughout his life, Jeremiah learned how to trust in the Lord in spite of persecution from others. His vocation journey was full of twists and turns; he eventually accepted God’s call to speak the truth…to be a prophet in a world of darkness.
I knew I had no decision but to trust in the Lord. My fiancé and I pray often, especially during our courtship. We also went to adoration to ask for His will for us. We both asked the Lord to give us fortitude, peace, and trust. We freely made a decision to marry; we believed that God called my fiancé and I to marriage no matter what the world thinks.
All of us are called to holiness. God asks each of us to use our gifts and talents that He gives us to use for His glory. The marriage vocation is a chance for a man and a woman to lead each other to the Lord. Also, they reach out to their offspring and lead them to the Lord. The Father drew me to this vocation because He knew that I have a heart to lead others to His Son. My fiancé and I look forward to serving together as a couple in the Catholic Church. We will assist at Mass by being Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion or read one of the readings of the day. We both love to pray, especially before the end of the day. We encourage one another to be more Christlike. Whether one is in religious life, single life or married life, we are called to be holy and encouraging others to follow Jesus. All vocations are pleasing to the Lord. He invites us to share, encourage, pray, and love one another.
If you are at a crossroads of making a decision about your vocation, talk to the Lord. A friend of mine told me to go to adoration to listen to God’s voice. She told me not listen to the voices of friends, priests, and others; only listen to God’s voice.
Going to adoration has helped me to listen to God’s voice especially when I was discerning with the religious community. I continue to go as a lay Catholic; I learn how to trust in the Lord’s will for my life.
Aug 15, 2017 |
By LumenChristi.
When I was in college, a good friend told me that we don’t have to find the saints – they find us. God places them in our lives at pivotal moments, to shed light on our own following of him. Since she said this, I have found it to be true on multiple occasions.
After six adventurous years of serving as a missionary, youth director, and other such exciting positions, I now work as a secretary at a church. I’ve realized God is calling me to a time of being still, and to use the advantages of a stable schedule to allow him to speak to me more deeply. While I am profoundly grateful for this position, and confident that God placed me here (through uniquely providential circumstances) I still feel that I am not doing enough. I miss my adventures. I am in tension between the peace that I am where He wants me, and yet a gnawing feeling of “not enough” that creeps in. I am happy to serve in the hidden tasks, yet can’t help noting the irony between the grandeur of what I did before (giving talks to teens, counseling others in their walk with Christ etc) and the exasperating minutiae of what I do now (fighting with the copier, spending hours on hold with Comcast!).
Underneath all this, is the ever-present tension that surfaces about what I am doing with my life in the long-term. I am at peace that I have given God all I can for now, but plagued by the same gnawing of “not enough.” I want to know the answer to the all-important question – what is my vocation, my purpose in life. I want to know why God will still not reveal it despite my earnest and faithful seeking.
Recently, into all these tensions, across the years, through a powerful thing called the Communion of Saints, came the perfect heavenly friend for me. While on hold yet again on a call for the parish, I was sorting through piles of paper on my desk and stumbled across an article about the life of a woman named Julia Greeley. I learned that her cause for canonization was currently underway, and was instantly intrigued. (For what is more fascinating than a canonization process currently underway in your own country?)
Julia Greeley was a Catholic, African-American laywoman who lived a poor and humble life. Her path to holiness was the epitome of the “hidden yes.” Recently recognized as “Servant of God” by her archdiocese in Denver, Colorado, Julia Greeley’s life was lowly and uncelebrated. She was born into slavery sometime between 1833 and 1848, and finally freed in 1865 by the state of Missouri’s Emancipation Act. Little is known about the intervening years, except that when she was a young child, she lost her right eye to the whip of an angry slave owner. Once freed, Julia made a living cooking, cleaning, and caring for children as a nanny.
In 1880, she became Catholic and was received into the Church at Sacred Heart Church in Denver. The Sacred Heart then became the central mystery and mission of her life. She would walk for miles to share devotional Sacred Heart pamphlets and medals with as many people as she could. She was also a dedicated servant of the poor. Though she herself lived in poverty, she gave of what she had, and also went begging for the needs of others. Friendship was a central characteristic of her life, in which she transcended the racial and societal divides of her time. White and black, Catholics and non catholic, rich and poor, old and young alike were numbered among her friends. Young children in particular were drawn to her and delighted in her presence. Her funeral overwhelmed her tiny parish church as over 1,000 people from all walks of life came to pay their respects.
She attended daily Mass faithfully, and in fact, died on her way to Mass, on the feast of her beloved Sacred Heart in 1918.
Fast-forward to June 2017 – nearly 100 years later – her remains were recently transferred to the Cathedral in Denver. She is the very first person to be buried there. As the bishop, Jorge Rodriguez, who presided over the ceremony pointed out “[Julia Greeley] will be the first person buried in Denver’s cathedral. Not a bishop, not a priest – a laywoman, a former slave. Isn’t that something?”
The humble are exalted. The last shall be first. Even to this day, few people know about Julia Greeley. In her life, she served in the lowliest (and even despised) roles. She had no “status” in secular society. In the Church, she was never a religious, theologian, or leader. And yet, it is her, whom God has lifted up and placed before our eyes.
Her life intersected with mine at just the right moment, to teach me what truly matters. Not only are the hidden yesses more powerful than we realize, but they are enough to bring us to Heaven. Julia Greeley’s life was all about the hidden yes.
The “yes” to forgive the grave wrongs of slavery and physical abuse that she suffered. . .
The “yes” to lead a joyful and charitable life in the midst of an unjust and still-segregated society. . .
The courageous “yes” to enter a Church in a time when there were few to no Catholics of her culture and racial background. . .
The “yes” to literally walk across the societal divides of her time. . .
The “yes” to travel miles on her errands of mercy and evangelization despite painful arthritis . . .
(this particular “yes,” in fact, remained hidden until the very recent examination of her bones during the exhumation process for her canonization!).
And the overarching “yes” to be the love of the Sacred Heart to all whom she encountered.
She has given me a different perspective. Everything has value. Where I am now could, as I believe, just be yet another stop along the way to where God ultimately wants me. Yet even if eternity were tomorrow, it could be ENOUGH to make me a saint. If I but choose to respond.
So, I now try to make jokes, when I finally get through on the Comcast call. Their customer service agent is a person too, whom Julia would have seen as a friend. I win my fight with the copier, knowing that I’ve made the pace of life smoother for everyone else even if they never know about it. And when anxiety about the future creeps in, I try to whisper, “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in You!”
Servant of God, Julia Greeley, Pray for Us!
Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!
Sources:
https://web.archive.org/web/20190311232414/http://www.juliagreeleyhome.org/whyjulias-1-1/ (Archived by the Wayback Machine.)
Former slave Julia Greeley first to be buried at Denver’s Cathedral
Jul 25, 2017 |
By Spiritu
Four years ago today, I laid my bags out on the front steps of the convent and waited for my father to drive in and pick me up. Most of my memories of religious life are still vivid and immediate, but that day is broken up into fragments. I remember unfastening the cord that tied my postulant medal around my neck, and handing both to my superior. Checking and triple-checking the drawers in my cell in case I’d left anything behind. Getting in the car and seeing the sisters standing under the veranda to wave goodbye. That night, opening the farewell card they’d written for me, and wanting to frame it and tear it up all at the same time because it hurt to see their handwriting. It was a long time before I stopped expecting – hoping – to wake up in my cell in the morning and find that everything that had happened since then was a dream.
I once heard a line in a film: “When the past dies, there is mourning, but when the future dies, our imaginations are compelled to carry it on.” After I’d been out about two years, someone asked me whether I wished I’d stayed in the convent, and whether I would go back if I could. From memory, what I said out loud was something profound like, “Um… I don’t know.” What had actually shot across my mind without the need for thought was, In a heartbeat. My future in the convent had been cut off at the root, and my imagination couldn’t give up the idea of going back, trying to make it right, to finish what I’d started.
And now? A few days ago, the anniversary of the date on which I’d told my superior I needed to leave, I sat down and made a list of all the people I’d never have met if I’d stayed in the convent. Colleagues. Housemates. Mentors. Clients. Friends – people I knew both in person and online. The list went for nearly a page. Then I started on a second list, laying out in black and white the things I’d done in the last four years that would never have happened if I’d stayed in the convent. Publishing my writing online; preparing for a career; making a journey overseas and coming home feeling like an adult for the first time in my life. And a third list: the music I’d never have heard, the books I’d never have read, the foods I’d never have tasted, the conversations I’d never have had. Set out on paper like that, the richness of what God has given me in the last few years blew me away. I’d have loved to have been a sister, but to wish now that I had stayed in the convent would be to wish everything I have loved since then multiplied by zero. I couldn’t do it, in a heartbeat or otherwise.
Today is the first-class feast of Saint James the Apostle, which means I’ll need to make time, in between all the other things that have to be sandwiched into the next twelve hours or so, to sing the Te Deum. I want to make time to sing it properly: unhurried, and with real gratitude. In the Divine Office this morning, there was a reading from Saint John Chrysostom:
But nevertheless let us now look at how (the apostles) came unto Christ, and what they said.
Master, they said, we would that Thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall desire. And He said unto them: What would ye that I should do for you? Not, surely, that He knew not what their wish was, but that He would make them answer, and so uncover the wound, to lay a plaster on it.
That is what He has done in these last few days. I’ve spent far too long binding up the wound of regret and anger on my heart as though it were not serious, crying, “Peace! Peace!” when there was no peace (Jeremiah 8:11) and it must be time by now for Him to lay a proper dressing on it. I’ve felt a lot of grief in the time since I left religious life, but today I’m going to focus instead on the joys that have been given me throughout those years. The people I’ve known, the things I’ve done – everything God has given me to love. Four years to the day out of the convent in which I’d once hoped to spend the rest of my life, I am going to sing the Te Deum and mean it.
I would like to say to these women: your grief is real, your wounds are real, but please do not confuse your pain with how Jesus feels about you. Please do not believe that He no longer cares. Jesus does not reject anyone who comes to Him (even if it may feel like it and even if you say: well, I have left Him). Sometimes we may be tempted to imagine ourselves as that “ideal sister” we thought we were called to be, to the point of losing our own identity. We compare ourselves to that image of a “fervent aspirant” or “generous postulant” that was ready to do whatever God asked. Then, at some moment along the way of our discernment, we realized that we cannot live up to that ideal. What do we do with this realization?
So please remember, Bride of Christ, that your soul remains His. As a member of the Body of Christ, you remain His Bride. You are that betrothed, chaste virgin spoken of in St. Paul’s letter (2 Corinthians 11:2). Not wanting anyone to be led away from the love of Jesus which remains and endures forever, I share in the sentiment of St. Paul because I too love you, my sister in Christ, and I pray that you may continue to know the love of God and the peace of Christ “that surpasses understanding” (Philippians 4:7) as you continue your courageous and loving journey into the arms of God.
By MJ
All of us are called to holiness. God asks each of us to use our gifts and talents that He gives us to use for His glory. The marriage vocation is a chance for a man and a woman to lead each other to the Lord. Also, they reach out to their offspring and lead them to the Lord. The Father drew me to this vocation because He knew that I have a heart to lead others to His Son. My fiancé and I look forward to serving together as a couple in the Catholic Church. We will assist at Mass by being Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion or read one of the readings of the day. We both love to pray, especially before the end of the day. We encourage one another to be more Christlike. Whether one is in religious life, single life or married life, we are called to be holy and encouraging others to follow Jesus. All vocations are pleasing to the Lord. He invites us to share, encourage, pray, and love one another.
By LumenChristi.
Fast-forward to June 2017 – nearly 100 years later – her remains were recently transferred to the Cathedral in Denver. She is the very first person to be buried there. As the bishop, Jorge Rodriguez, who presided over the ceremony pointed out “[Julia Greeley] will be the first person buried in Denver’s cathedral. Not a bishop, not a priest – a laywoman, a former slave. Isn’t that something?”
By Spiritu
But nevertheless let us now look at how (the apostles) came unto Christ, and what they said.
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