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Under His Mercy

Newsletter of the Franciscan Sisters T.O.R                         

Christmas 2005                                                                                          


holly

All is Gift

holly

Dear Family and Friends:

       Advent and Christmas greetings!

       I write this greeting in the midst of one of the most beautiful fall seasons that I have ever experienced.  All around the trees are aglow, their leaves like fire blowing in the wind.  What is my Creator speaking to me in the abundance of such beauty?  "All is gift" resounds in my heart.  As I ponder these words, I am reminded of a recent grace I received at the end of a community weekend of renewal.  We closed our weekend by praying together with the words of St. Paul in Ephesians 4:7-16.  The simple word "gift" remained with me.  I sensed the Lord speak to my heart about all the blessings I had received, more than I could even begin to imagine.  I knew the Lord was referring to the hardships and difficulties of life.  I experienced God's love for me - a profound love of One who knows me through and through and only desires my good, a love so great that it could transform even pain into good.  I experienced God's providential care for me to a depth that human understanding fails.  Yes, even the trees sing out all is gift as they let go of their foliage to enter into a new season, one of stillness and waiting to welcome new birth.  As we begin this Advent season, may we have the grace to let go in ways that prepare us for a season of stillness and waiting as we prepare our hearts for the celebration of Christ's birth.  Each Christmas is a new opportunity to let Christ be born again in new ways in our lives.  Please know our love and prayers for you this Advent and Christmas.  We will offer up the Masses celebrated at our Monastery during the Octave of Christmas for you and your intentions.

In the wonder of God's love,

Sr. Katherine and sisters 


holly

holly A Gift Wrapped in Weakness

 

God chose to enter into human history in complete weakness.  That divine choice forms the center of the Christian faith.  In Jesus of Nazareth, the powerlessness of God appeared among us to unmask the illusion of power…It is through total and unmitigated powerlessness that God shows us divine mercy.  This radical, divine choice is the choice to reveal love in and through the compete divestment of power. We keep praying to the "almighty and powerful God" but all might and power is absent from the one who reveals God to us saying, "When you see me, you see the Father." If we truly want to love God, we have to look at the man of Nazareth, whose life was wrapped in weakness.  And his weakness opens for us the way to the heart of God. ~Henri Nouwen

         Not only did God become man, but God became a baby. This "divine choice" far surpassed anything any of the prophets and those who awaited the Messiah's coming could have deemed possible or even appropriate for an all-mighty, all-powerful God.  This gift of God was unlike any gift that we receive at Christmas.  Lacking all the appropriate external attire of beautiful paper and ribbons, this gift was and is a gift wrapped in weakness, in powerlessness, in poverty, and in a love that cannot be comprehended with our human understanding… an absolute, uncompromising, unconditional, humble love.  Choosing to come to us as a baby is enough to boggle our minds until eternity, but the circumstances that this all-powerful God chose for his birth were nothing short of remarkable.  He was born in a stable as an exile, displaced from His home…born among animals where the smell of donkeys, cows and manure would have been utterly nauseating.  This bundle of weakness and neediness was placed in a manger, the feeding trough for animals.  He was wrapped in swaddling clothes (another word for rags).  Yes, He came as a baby, but He could have arranged for a nice warm, cozy house, if not a magnificent palace worthy of Himself and His Mother. He could have even arranged for all the conveniences that we have available to us today because He is God. But no, He chose the most despicable circumstances. The situation could not have been much worse.

        The Lord comes to us boasting of His poverty.  On the cross, He was a man with His hands seemingly tied, appearing helpless, powerless, and abandoned before our very eyes.  And now we gaze upon Him in the Blessed Sacrament. He is not afraid to be poor, to be vulnerable, for His omnipotence and power to be hidden...hidden under ordinary, common bread and entrusted into our very hands. Our Lord chooses to be so poor, so vulnerable and weak.  He comes stripped of His glory, though by every right it is His.  And yet I appear before Him robed and veiled in glory that isn't mine, stealing the glory that He so willingly laid down.  I place these robes on myself before this poor, naked God to prove that I am something when He who is everything comes before me in total poverty on bended knee, content to appear as nothing.

        I was hit very hard with this reality my second year as a novice. I was 25 years old, and I discovered that I had no idea who I was. It was 2001.  I remember watching the Twin Towers fall and saying to myself,  "That is me."  Everything that I thought made me worthwhile and lovable was crashing down.  This image of myself was being demolished and it was very painful. I felt like the rubble of twisted metal and ash that was left on the ground.

        I came to realize how much my identity was in everything I had left behind when I entered religious life.  I felt stripped of all that I believed made me worthwhile. Without being aware of it, my identity was enmeshed in these THINGS… my new black Honda Civic EX, my black thick hair, makeup, cute clothes, guys I dated, the security and success of my work, my 4.0 GPA, even the presence of my family.  All of these gave me a sense of security, of being loved, of being worth something.

        And all these things suddenly were taken from me.  I was forced to look deeper beyond the externals and face my true self.  Facing this truth changed my life. Through a painful process I came to discover my worth in Jesus' eyes. I uncovered something more beautiful, rich and precious than I had ever known. It had been hiding beneath these layers of false securities I had created.  I was introduced to my poverty. I came face to face with my own deep brokenness, helplessness, and powerlessness. I encountered the frightening reality that I really had nothing to offer the Lord except this bundle of nothingness. With much fear and trepidation I allowed Him to expose and unveil this poverty before my eyes and I discovered that not only did His love not change for me, but the more that I let Him see, the deeper was my experience of His love. I met a God who chooses freely to love us not despite our weaknesses but precisely because of our weaknesses, our misery, and our poverty.

        Not only was it a radical change in the way I see myself, but I began to see others differently.  Previously, I had always felt uncomfortable with the poor, the handicapped, the sick, and the suffering.  I didn't know what to say to them when I was with them.  I avoided them at all costs. I see now that it was because I had not yet faced the reality of my own poverty, weakness, handicaps, and brokenness.  When the Lord gave me the grace to embrace this in myself, a deep love for the poor sprang spontaneously from my heart.  I felt I was more like them than even my very own family.  I experienced a unity with the poor, the lonely, the mentally ill, and the abandoned that I had never known before.  Not only was I able to see Christ within them, but I also saw myself.  I experienced this union with the spiritually poor as well- the prostitute, the murderer.  I could say with St. Francis, "But for the grace of God, there go I."

        We often come before God robed and veiled in these false securities. As Adam and Eve weaved themselves garments to cover their nakedness, we clothe ourselves in things that we think He would like to see. Usually it goes much deeper than material things.  We are robed in our own accomplishments and gifts, our need to be perfect, the delusion that we are in control, the opinions of others, etc.  We are afraid of Him seeing our darkness, weakness, misery and poverty. Where is our hesitation and fear from?  I know in my own life it is a fear rooted in self-love and arrogance.  I kind of like the false images I have of myself. They are safe and secure.  When He sees me disrobed and naked, my security is shattered. By abandoning these images of myself, I am jumping into the unknown where I have no control.  Yet I know it is a leap into a place where the truth that I am nothing without Him lies waiting to be engraved within my very being to set me free.

        When we expose everything to His gaze and allow Him to take off the robes and garments that preserve our illusion of self-reliant power and being in control, we create a capacity for Him that we never knew we had. Hidden within the poverty, weakness, brokenness, and helplessness; hidden within the suffering, insecurity, loneliness, and desperation; hidden within the nakedness, misunderstanding, darkness, and nothingness; hidden within everything within ourselves that we think is despicable and incapable of being loved; hidden here is the essence of all life, all joy, all peace and the answer to all of our questions. It is Jesus Himself waiting to be discovered… wrapped in weakness. And by His side we discover a loving Father, a Father of the poor, and the "Spirit who comes to the aid of our weakness" (Rom. 8) "…and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2Cor. 3).

        My prayer lately has been "Tear this veil Lord and break open this heart!" Our veils need to be torn and our robes discarded for He wants to love us just as we are. We are not loved for our gifts or for anything that we do: we are loved for who we are in Him!  He wants me, not my gifts and not even my perfection!  Our expectations of ourselves need to be lowered and our expectations of Him need to be raised.  We are children.  He is all-mighty God.

        When my nephew Michael was one and a half years old, he and his parents were eating breakfast in a nice restaurant in DC.  Instead of eating his food, Michael began to throw it.  In a firm voice my sister Cathy said to him, "Michael, if you throw your food you are going to get in trouble."  In a teasing voice his father, Mike, chimed in, "Ooooo trouble." Michael mimicked His dad in his one  year old voice and said, "trouble," and threw his food again.   "Michael, do you really want to get into trouble?" his father asked.   Aware that little Michael was helpless to escape the trouble awaiting him, Mike continued, "Who is going to save you if you get into trouble?"  Michael looked at his mom and then looked at his dad and said with much confidence "Jesus!" The woman at the table next to them dropped her fork in disbelief and said, "That just made my day!" Michael knew that Jesus could save him in the midst of his powerlessness.

         It is one thing to recognize the futility of these robes and veils we put on ourselves; it is another to recognize that we are powerless to discard them.  Sometimes it takes a serious fall or being tried in the fires of temptation to uncover the arrogance we are clinging to that preserves the illusion that we are in control and can save ourselves.  The Lord sometimes has to pry this arrogance from our stubborn grasp.  It is frightening, but freeing to face the sin we are capable of and to admit that without His help we would destroy ourselves.

        This is why He comes to us as a little helpless infant instead of on fiery cherubim flexing His muscles for the entire world to see. It is as if He is saying, "If I can be weak and powerless so can you.  I have become like you." He is teaching us the secret of love and needing one another. Think about it.  This all-mighty, all-powerful God, our Creator "through whom all things were made," out of love, chose to NEED us! He placed His life in the hands of those He had created and gave us full control over Him!  May we His creatures, His children surrender to the grace of knowing our desperate NEED for Him in our lives.  We need God.  This is not a revolutionary thought, though at times I forget!  How much do we really know this?  I know I am still learning this simple truth and probably will be for the rest of my life.

        This divine infant has so much to teach us! This little bundle of poverty, helplessness, neediness, and vulnerability is entrusted into our hands.  He entrusts His very self to us.  May we in turn entrust our own poverty, weakness and neediness to Him.  Let us let Him strip us of the beautiful, false wrappings and ribbons and be presented to him in all our nakedness and poverty.  This Christmas may we welcome this gift of Jesus wrapped in weakness by welcoming and embracing the weakness, powerlessness, and vulnerability we encounter within ourselves and others. We are gifts to Him when we come before Him wrapped in nothing but weakness.

 A proud and self-reliant man rightly fears to undertake anything, but a humble man becomes all the braver as he realizes his own powerlessness; all the bolder as he sees his own weakness, for all his confidence is in God, who delights to reveal his almighty power in our infirmity and his mercy in our misery. ~St. Francis de Sales.

+ Sr. Thérèse Marie, TOR


Welcome to Austria!

The bell in the towering Kartause steeple is ringing out with enthusiasm its willkommen to the new day our Lord is giving to us. It is 7 a.m. on Friday, our hermitage morning. Visible from our chapel window, smoke is curling from the chimney of a red-tile-roofed house framed by mountains of yellow and burnt-orange trees scattered among the pines and evergreens. The smell of fall is in the air. This is Gaming.

        In August, Sr. Faustina and I joined our sisters who were here last year, Sr. Anne Marie and Sr. Della Marie, on this lovely Austrian Campus of Franciscan University's Study Abroad Program. The setting: a Carthusian monastery that dates back to 1330. Our mission: to pray for the re-evangelization of Europe, in union with our Holy Father Benedict XVI; to pray for and minister to the students and the Faculty and Staff and their families;  and to pray for a return to the sacraments for this little village of Gaming.

        The members of the Staff and Faculty have warmly welcomed us. Fr. Dave Pivonka, Fr. Dennis Gang, and Fr. Ron Mohnickey, all T.O.R.s, are outstanding priests, preachers and ministers to the young people who come here to study. The professors and administrative people and their families provide an environment of holiness through their commitment to the daily living out of their lives for our Lord Jesus Christ and their desire to spread the Gospel to all the nations.  As for the families, we have never seen so many beautiful, happy children of all ages!

        Getting to know the students, 168 of them, has been our joy. These young men and women, seeking holiness and nourishing their faith through prayer and study, hope to make a difference in our world.  They are "capable of shaping history according to God's plan" (John Paul II, Novo Millennio Ineunte, 33).   We have accompanied them on pilgrimage to Salzburg, which is rich in churches, music, art and history, and is also the inspiration for the well-loved movie, "Sound of Music." With them we visited Vienna, a center of Christian and Austrian history; a city of classical composers including Mozart and Beethoven among many others. The Treasury, a museum of earthly power and trappings containing ornate crowns of temporal kings, has as its greatest treasure a very large piece of the True Cross of the King of Kings, our Lord Jesus Christ. St. Peter's Church in Vienna has celebrated Mass daily for 1400 years. All glory to God!

        On our patronal feast day, September 15, we four sisters visited the oldest church in Europe dedicated to Our Lady of Sorrows, which is here in Austria. Together we prayed the Seven Sorrows of Mary. It was a deeply moving experience.

        It is an exciting new chapter in our lives, not without its challenges. It is stretching for each of us as we settle into the new house and culture. Overall we are adjusting to the "different but not wrong" newness and are becoming a "missionary team."  In this process of change there are the not- so-ordinary details of daily living. The German language on all food products is sometimes close enough to English to "decipher" for shopping and cooking, sometimes not. We delight in the happy greeting of the local people, "Gruss Gott!" (God greets you!)  We marvel at the unerring honesty of the Austrian people. For example, you can ride a bike and leave it outside a store, or at the foot of a mountain path, unlocked, and it is there when you return.

        In the midst of all this, we miss you and pray for you, our sisters at home, our families, and our friends. May God give you His blessing, now and forever!

+Sr. Grace Anne Wills, TOR


Grasshoppers, etc

chapel

Remember when you were a child in the backseat of the station wagon, perhaps nestled in between your siblings, on a long road trip, with Mom or Dad commanding, "be quiet!"  from the front? Suddenly everything became irresistably funny and the giggles burst forth.  As contemplative sisters, we gather many times a day in our prayerful, if somewhat "cozy" chapel.  Occasionally, it is not so different from that childhood road trip...   We share the following, a true account of a recent incident at the Motherhouse, in the hopes it may bring you joy this Advent season.. 

+The Editor

Dear Sr. Faustina,

             I have a very exciting story to share … .you're going to love this. 

            Sunday night at evening prayer while we were all praying the Mercy Chaplet I noticed out of the corner of my eye Sr. Jean staring at me.  I was curious as to why she was staring at me, but I tried to ignore her.  But she kept staring at me, so I finally looked at her.  Her eyes were really big and she was pointing at my head and then her head, my head and then her head, over and over. At that time I had no idea what she was trying to say and she figured that out. So she tried to get Sr. Maria Teresa's attention (who sits next to me) and again pointed at my head. Sr. Maria Teresa's eyes got really big, and I picked up a look of horror in both of their eyes.  At that point I came to the conclusion that there must be something on my head, and from the look on their faces I knew it must be big, really ugly, or dangerous (or all three).  My first thought was that it was a big, hairy spider.  Meanwhile, the other sisters were still praying the Mercy Chaplet, clueless as to the exciting drama unfolding in the back of the chapel.  My first response, frozen by fear, was to shut my eyes really tight and clench my fists and to say over and over in my mind, "Stay calm, Sr. Maria Teresa will get it.  Don't make a scene… stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm."  I tried my best to be cool, calm, and collected and waited for Sr. Maria Teresa to knock it off of my head or to do something.  I waited for a few seconds and nothing happened.  I finally opened my eyes and they were still staring at me with that look of disbelief.  And then I felt whatever it was begin to walk on my head.  From the feel of its legs clinging to my veil, I surmised that whatever it was, was really big!  I made the necessary decision to take the situation into my own hands and I decided to run. As I attempted to run for what I thought was possibly my life, I forgot that I was still on my knees.  As I ran on my knees from my little corner and attempted to get onto my feet, I tripped over my footstool and then fell over Sr. Maria Teresa into Sr. Jean's arms who was terrified of whatever I had on my head and was trying unsuccessfully to get  away from me.  I jammed my knee (it is all black and blue), let out something like a scream, and created such a scene that Sr. Alexandra Marie thought I was having a seizure and Sr. Mary thought I was having a heart attack.  As I settled into Sr. Jean's chair I looked at the wall by my chair and there was a big grasshopper (4 to 5 inches long!!).*  Sr. Maria Teresa then caught it and carried it out of the chapel.  I really couldn't believe what had happened and we were all somewhat stunned.  We began the Mercy Chaplet again, but a lot of us could not keep the giggles under control and were outside of the chapel for the rest of prayer.  Everyone is teasing me and telling me that we are having grasshopper pie for my feast day dessert.

            It was something else.  You would have thoroughly enjoyed the free entertainment.  To top it off, at night prayer that night, Sr. Chiara, who sits in front of me, sat on the cord to the fan that is on the windowsill above my chair.  The fan (which was still on) came crashing down on top of me creating a huge noise and another scream. I was glad to get to bed that night.

 Your graceful and shaken sister,

Sr. Thérèse Marie


 

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