A Reply to Love

from the foot of the cross

 

Recently, Sr. Sophia Grace sent me a link about Christian Varley, a man who just completed his 19th marathon in 19 days to raise money for Coronavirus relief.  I read the article with interest and joy, as I (and my sister Sr. Agnes Therese) just marked the first anniversary of our run in the Cleveland Marathon last May.   After I read the article, I sent a response to Sr. Sophia Grace – ‘”Wow, Sister, what a story!  Once I get to Heaven and have my glorified body, I’ll totally be doing something like this.” 

I think it is safe to say that all of us, at one time or another, have experienced feeling lost. Many of us probably remember an incident from childhood when we got separated from our parent(s) in a store or large crowd of people and all of the fear and tears that go along with being lost and then the tears of joy and security upon being found.  It is also probably pretty safe to assume that we have experienced similar situations in our relationship with the Lord.  Maybe you are feeling lost right now.

I love food. Yes, I am a religious sister and we practice detachment from things that can be a distraction … but I just really enjoy food. One day when I was talking to my family, we realized we would typically chat about what food we ate at a family gathering or feast day, and how we had enjoyed it. We had to laugh at ourselves when we saw what we were doing.

I am Cleopas.  For a year or more (OK, several years), I’ve been trudging along a road, not intentionally walking away from faith, but finding myself weak in it. Particularly when it comes to belief and experiential knowledge of the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, I have found myself running on empty. I’ve wanted to believe, but so many times I received and felt nothing. I wondered if it would always feel like a routine.

Do you feel like you are still waiting at the tomb?  Do you feel like you are missing the graces of the resurrection during this Easter Season?  It’s OK to be in the place you find yourself right now.  Our whole life is the Paschal Mystery.  We follow Christ by experiencing what he experienced.  When we are in the midst of suffering, we are with Him on Good Friday.  Death, darkness, sorrow, pain, separation, and grief are all part of being at the tomb on Holy Saturday.  Then, as on that first Easter morning, we experience the joy, hope, healing, and peace of the resurrection.

According to Bishop Jeffrey Monforton and the Diocese of Steubenville guidelines, Father of Mercy Chapel will be closed to the public and we will have no public Masses until further notice (due to the coronavirus).  However, in these unusual circumstances we are learning to live stream from our Chapel!  It is our hope to share some of our prayer life with you.  Please be patient with us as our technology is limited and we are still experimenting with our equipment (location of the camera, audio quality, etc.).

“I am like a dish that is broken”.  This is from Psalm 31, which is read during the Celebration of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday.  A few days ago I overcrowded a dish rack that was about to go through our industrial dishwasher. As I moved the rack into position, a large 9 x 13 glass Pyrex dish suddenly made a bid for freedom and launched itself off the dish rack. Before my wide-open eyes and paralyzed arms it made a highly impressive smash with a bouncing shard even managing to cut my “ring toe” on the way back up. Shattered pieces of glass were everywhere!  It reminded me of how I felt a little while ago after an argument with a sister.

Easter Triduum 2020 will go down in history. It is almost surreal to know that the Church is not going to be able to celebrate the Triduum with Her faithful. I do not know if there has ever been a Triduum like this since the beginning of Christianity except for maybe during the time of the Roman persecutions.  

Even though we do have the Blessed Sacrament here with us in the monastery, and for this I am so grateful (and feel so unworthy!), my heart is pierced for all of you who on this sacred night as we celebrate the Eucharist, cannot tangibly draw near to the beautiful and intimate mystery of his Body and Blood.  I want to assure you that every time I go before Him, I am taking you all with me. While I was praying for you before him, the Lord put on my heart a desire to share an experience of a time in my life where I could not go to His Eucharistic presence due to illness and how hard, yet powerful that was for me.