I sat in a quaint Portuguese coffee shop across the table from my sister Emily, who was holding my seven-week-old little nephew James in her arms. In the background, one of our favorite artists began to play on the radio, and through the glass door I had a stunning view of the bright red autumn leaves blowing on the trees and the large brick clock tower in the old part of town.
I was reminded of a recent conversation I had with a sister about how the process of the leaves dying is so beautiful and how, through their death, new life is able to spring forth. Overwhelmed by the beauty that was before me and God’s love and providence that arranged this scene, tears began to stream down my face. I was in Sheffield, England for the baptism of my little nephew James, and I was to become his godmother soon.
During our time together, my sister Emily and I had many discussions about motherhood and the parallels in our two vocations. She shared with me that during her labor and delivery she experienced an intimate union with Christ on the cross. Just as Christ’s labor on the cross generated the rebirth of mankind, so too Emily’s labor and delivery brought about the birth of little James into the world.
Witnessing her continually laying down her life for James, from feeding him in the wee hours of the night to gently bathing him to rocking him and singing to him when he cries, inspired me and challenged me in my spiritual motherhood to be more generous. One night before Mass in Sheffield, I met a young man named Geth. He shared with me that he is a recovering drug addict and has recently started to come to Mass. He confided in me that he often feels lost during the liturgy. I felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to invite him to sit with me. After Mass, my brother-in-law Ciaran, a woman from the parish and I listened as he shared with us about his recovery from his drug addiction and how he recently encountered Christ by reading the Gospels. Through this simple encounter, Jesus was reminding me to be generous and open to the spiritual children that He brings into my life unexpectedly.
In the morning, when my sister would feed James, I would sit beside her and pray Morning Prayer aloud. The Lord reminded me that while Emily was feeding James, I was feeding my spiritual children through prayer. His grace was bringing souls to life. During my first time at evening Mass at the cathedral, I was asked to distribute the Precious Blood, because there were not any other Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion present. After Mass, the sacristan approached me and said: “Thank you. If you weren’t here they wouldn’t have been able to receive the Precious Blood.” I felt those words were from Our Lord. I have nothing of my own to give souls; Christ’s Body and Blood is the greatest gift that I can give.
On the day of James’ baptism, I helped Emily dress him in his long white baptismal gown that all of my brothers and sisters and I wore when we were babies. All through James’ baptism, this scripture passage was on my heart: “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Romans 6:4-5). As his godmother, I was participating in his rebirth in Christ. I was saying “yes” to being his spiritual mother forever. I pray that by God’s grace, I continually participate in the rebirth of souls in Christ as a spiritual mother. I pray that I would live a life of sacrifice like my sister Emily, so that united to Christ crucified through my vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, souls may be fed with the mercy and love of God.
Sr. Anges Maria Kilonsky, T.O.R.
(Picture Above: Sr. Agnes Maria holding her nephew James.)
