Quantcast
Channel: Poor Clare Heart Ponderings
Viewing all 343 articles
Browse latest View live

Poor Clare Cross Prayer

$
0
0


Several times a day, Poor Clares pray with arms outstretched in what we call the “Cross Prayer”.  I always smile to see a new postulant gradually getting used to this usually unfamiliar prayer position.  They must be told what it is not:  it is not calisthenics (one, two, arms above your heads, touch your toes…), it is not ballet (I have seen lovely coronals), it notan act of defiance(hands raised in the air clenched as fists or pushing out), it is not wimpy(elbows bent and sinking—come on, you can do it!).  No, it is none of these, but it is an act of penance offered in union with our Lord’s Passion on behalf of all our suffering brothers and sisters. 

I think of the Cross Prayer whenever we have today’s reading from Exodus that describes how Moses climbed a mountain to pray for Joshua and the Israelites as they fought their enemies.  When Moses raised his hands, Israel had the better of the fight, but when Moses lowered his hands, the enemy had the battle go their way.  As Moses grew weary, his companions, Aaron and Hur supported his hands so that Joshua was able to finally win the victory.


In this story from the Old Testament we have a foreshadowing of the entire Church.  Contemplative monks and nuns pray on their mountains of solitude for the Church militant fighting the battles of salvation.  But monastics need the support of the hierarchy, represented by Aaron the priest, and their good benefactors, represented by the layman Hur.  Although we do not literally hold our hands up in prayer continuously, yet our whole lives are spent as a sacrificial offering for the embattled Church.  We are ever grateful to our faithful priests who give us the inestimable sustenance of the Sacraments as well as their instruction and advice.  We are likewise grateful for our friends who sustain us in our material needs.  Without the support of our Aaron and Hur, we could never live our monastic, contemplative lives.  Nor could they well do the tasks God asks of them without the vivifying grace that flows through the channel of our prayer.  Whatever our diverse vocations, let us be united in the Heart of Christ for the furthering of His Kingdom!



First Frost

$
0
0

Yesterday, Postulant Sarah told me she had completed her cleaning, and was there anything else she could do?  So I sent her out to the garden to assess the damage caused by that morning’s frost.  As I have mentioned before, this is my first year of fall gardening, and so I was unsure as to when the first fall frost would hit here in Barhamsville.  At our old stomping ground in Newport News, the frost would come in mid-November.  But I had a suspicion that it would come earlier here, being as we are a bit further north, a bit higher in elevation and quite a bit further inland from the regulating ocean waters.  Although expected, a frost always seems to be a surprise when it arrives.  And so, I was duly shocked when I observed the tell-tale white glimmering on the monastery roof as I passed on my way down the hall to Holy Mass this week.

Here is what Sarah saw in our frost-bitten garden:

Buckwheat dead (I had hoped we could harvest a few leaves as salad)







Beans finished (we did get a few handfuls)











Eggplant MOST unhappy (I had not been paying much attention to these as they were rather a disappointment during the summer.  But low and behold!  There was a bumper crop of eggplant fruits hiding under the withered leaves!  You just never know…)









Collards untouched (These are SUPPOSED to get frosted before you pick them.  Louisiana-born Postulant Erin says she knows how to cook them.  She gets her chance this Friday)








Chinese Cabbage flourishing  (our Asian Sisters are excited!)


The advent of the frost heralds the ending of the growing season, just as the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time proclaims that the end of the liturgical cycle is in sight.  In today’s second reading for Holy Mass, St. Paul speaks of his own immanent death as a “pouring out” and a “dissolution”.  The dying of the year reminds us of our own death.  This can be frightening, especially for those of us who feel the cold in their bones and see the frost whitening their hair and cheek.  Our culture worships the springtime glow of youth, caring little for the experience of age.  Yet we as Christians know that eternal life follows only through the door of decline, death and decay.  Just as the onslaught of winter is inexorable, so is the flowering of spring inevitable.  Local wisdom has it that the harder the winter, the better the spring.  Perhaps it is, however, that the slowly limiting autumn is more taxing than the winter, just as old age is sometimes more feared than death itself.  But in these moments, let us look forward to the eternal youth that will be different from our first flush since it will be enriched by the harvest of wisdom gleaned from our lives well lived or from our mistakes well learned.  Like St. Paul, let us await the crown of glory that will be placed on our heads by Him who has gone before us and who Himself is called the Day-Spring!

All Saints Day

$
0
0

One of our best loved traditions is decorating our devotional shrines with holy cards of saints on All Saints Day!  Here is a view of the novitiate altar.  The actual display extends out on both sides.  Blessed feast to all saints in the making!  Tomorrow we will pray for our beloved departed that they too may join the saints in heaven to praise our good God who offers salvation and peace for those who love Him.

Announcing the Investiture of Postulant Erin!

$
0
0


Sewing hands and singing hearts proclaim at Bethlehem Monastery of Poor Clares that there will soon be a new novice in our midst!  Postulant Erinwill receive the Holy Habit of our Mother St. Clare this Saturday, November 9th, feast of St. John Lateran Cathedral.  She begins her retreat tomorrow to prepare her soul for the great event even as we continue to prepare her monastic trousseau.  Please join us in prayer for her preparation.

Erin has a great love for the Psalms and so I am sure she will be using these ancient forms of prayer in the coming days.  Here is a poem she wrote, celebrating the place the Holy Psalter has in her life:

Key of David

The key is the Tree
Master the riddle
since nothing
shall pass
Not one jot nor tittle
‘til He comes to pass
through the lock
of
 Leviathan’s depths…

so come now Nocturnal
to bar, gate, and
lock,
break open the seal
O Verbum Supernal.
Lift up the gates with Your
David’s 150
with Your Canticum
Novum
with Your Paschal
Mystery

This wheat crush and sift
Your Passion
inside me
Your Passion
inside me.

All is Ready for Erin's Investiture!

$
0
0



All is ready for Erin’s investiture tomorrow.  Or, at least all is ready as it is ever going to be.  The ceremony will take place after Holy Mass, here in our Chapter Room.  Mother and Erin will sit before the altar for the first part, which is a para-liturgy of a biblical reading, psalm and then an exhortation by Mother Abbess on the spirit of our Holy Order.  Then begins the investiture proper when Erin is slowly transformed from a postulant to a novice.




From left to right clockwise:
headcovering, basket and scissors for cutting hair, breviary,
 flower crown and pins, handkerchief, Franciscan Cord 
Here is my table with everything I need to give to Mother for the clothing of a novice except the habit tunic (that is on a separate tray to be blessed at Mass).  As Novice Mistress, I am also “Mistress of Ceremonies” with all the responsibility that implies.  If something goes wrong, it will probably be my fault.  Several times today I have practiced and I think I have it memorized:  Take off shoes, give habit, cord, scissors, headcover, breviary, crown, crucifix.  I know when Erin is supposed to sit, stand, kneel.  I will be ready to give a gentle press of the hand if necessary.









When all has been accomplished, Mother will give Erin a new name which she will carry with her for the rest of her religious life.  All the Sisters will be leaning forward with anticipation and mounting excitement.  At this writing, no one knows except Mother and God Himself.  Check back here tomorrow to find out!



"Erin, in the future you will be called..."

$
0
0
Sister Maria Christi of the Immaculate Conception

The Collards Charism

$
0
0


Since our new novice, Sister Maria Christi, had been duly invested with our Holy Habit, and her new clothes were becoming a bit rumpled, spotted and wrinkled so that she ever more looked like the rest of us frayed Franciscans, we were able to at last pick, prepare and cook our collard greens under her expert supervision.  We found out that what us Yankees did not know was that you have to cook collards the day before you eat them because the cooking literally takes all day.  Although Sister Maria Christi was quite limited by our Poor Clare custom of only using seasoning on feastdays (unfortunately, Thursday was not such a day), and of course, the Louisianan tradition of using pork fat was completely out of the question, she declared the end result quite good and we concurred.

I must confess that I never had much affection for greens before I began growing them, but now I am sold.  They are such amazing things, providing us faithfully with iron-rich nourishment when everything else in the garden is devastated by frost.   On Friday, our community celebrated what we call “Foundation Day”.  This day commemorates the beginnings of our Bethlehem Monastery.  On November 15, 1956, a group of Poor Clares traveled from their monastery in Cleveland and arrived in what was then Warwick, Virginia.  After some time in a temporary residence, they moved into their partially completed monastery and began their simple monastic life of prayer and penance. At first the community seemed to flourish, but then the unsettling years following the 2nd Vatican Council revealed serious problems.  The first community finally dissolved, with some Sisters returning to Cleveland, others going to other monasteries and some going back to secular life.  But a second community, formed by generous Sisters from Roswell, New Mexico, along with one brave Sister from the former community, restored Poor Clare life in Virginia in 1972. 

Other trials, sometimes severe ones, have afflicted this community, but by the grace of God, it has always survived.  Two of the re-founding Sisters have attained to their eternal reward.  The others are our aging elders that give daily witness to the younger newcomers.  After forty some years, it can be said that our community is a lot like those collard greens out in the November garden that have withstood the test of hoary frost again and again.  Here we stand in a death dealing, wintry world, providing it with a wholesome, though perhaps rather strong tasting spiritual nourishment:  iron for the building up of blood for the Mystical Body of Christ!


What are these Wounds? Christ the King of the Universe

$
0
0
Blessed Feast of Christ the King of the Universe!  In Year C of the Liturgical Cycle, we view Christ on the royal throne of the Cross.  Here is a poem by one of our Sisters who contemplates and questions the Crucified King:

Chapter Room Crucifix

What are these Wounds? 

“What are these wounds, my Lord, upon Your breast?”
Asked one among the household of His own.
“These wounds are made by those I favor best.”

He who replied, the King upon His throne,
Bore wounds as well in hands and feet and side.
With light resplendent all the bruises shone,

And as he held their mirror to His bride,
A sadness infinite was in His eyes.
Yet love and lasting pity flowed full tide

And broke upon the shores of her disguise
To wash her gently back against His breast.
“Am I not more to you than self’s vain prize?”

Then she through whom the sword of shame had passed
Asked not, “What are these wounds upon Your breast?”


Did the Jar Get Opened?

$
0
0
This was the burning question at our evening recreation at the end of Thanksgiving Day.  Earlier, while the Sisters had been busily occupied with that traditional feminine activity occurring after dinner called “doing the dishes”, Sister Joyce walked into the kitchen with a sealed jar of marmalade, asking if someone could help her open it.  This jar was a fancy affair, its top encircled with wire and supported by a rubber seal.  Several of us tried unsuccessfully to pry the lid off by hand.  Others offered advice.  Soon various tools appeared: two kinds of screwdrivers, several knives, can openers, even a crow bar.  Some Sisters remembered the neglected dishes and continued to wash and dry, but with one eye on the more interesting activity around the jar.  The postulants who were waiting to wash the dishtowels that were still being used, gathered at the door to watch.  Finally, it was observed that a little marmalade had seeped into the seal and perhaps this was the problem.  So far, all of our efforts had simply produced a crack in the stubborn lid, occasioning a worry that broken glass would make the contents inedible if we continued.  And so it was decided to put the jar into the always warm bake oven, hoping the marmalade would melt.  This done, we went our separate ways of prayer and work.

And so the question was asked:  “Did the jar get opened?”  Yes!  How?  Sister Pius took some pliers and pulled the rubber seal out!  Only our inventive Sister Pius would ever even think of doing it that way.

So much effort went into our opening of that jar of marmalade, yet it all cannot compare with what our God has had to do, in order to open our hardened human heart:  no less than the Incarnation and the Crucifixion of the Son of His only begotten Son!  Why do we keep ourselves so stubbornly closed to His love?  We have begun the blessed season of Advent, when we constantly cry out to our Lord, “Come!”  “O come, O come, Emmanuel!”  Yet, when He comes, do we open to Him?  At one point in our jar opening operation, one Sister remarked, “It’s sealed as tight as if it had poison in it!” Yes, or precious treasure!  These are the two things we seal away from all comers:  poison that may do harm or treasure that we might lose.  Are we afraid to let God into our hearts for fear He may discover our poisonous selves and reject us?  Or, at the other extreme, are we afraid He will take something precious from us and leave us bereft?  These fears have no basis when we are dealing with an all-knowing and all-loving God.  He made us, so He knows of what we are made and He knows that we are very good.  But He also made us for Himself, and as St. Augustinesays, our hearts will ever be restless until they rest in Him.  We can only find our ultimate happiness when we give ourselves to Him.  And we are not left bereft, for in giving we receive more than we give away—infinitely more:  God Himself.


So, it will be a happy day when we can answer yes! to the question:  Did the heart get opened?  Come, Lord Jesus!

Sister Maria Christi Shares Her Investiture Day

$
0
0






Our new novice, Sister Maria Christi of the Immaculate Conception, celebrates her first nameday on Monday, the transferred feast of the Immaculate Conception.  It is our custom for a new novice to write a letter to some of our other Poor Clare monasteries to share reflections about her investiture day.  Here is Sister Maria Christi's letter:


+

November 24, 2013
Christ King of the Universe
Dear Sisters in the Lord,

Peace, Peace, Peace, and many blessings.  May God reward you for all the notes, holy cards, and especially the prayers on the occasion of my Investiture.  I’m still so fumbly with all the pieces of these poor and holy garments, but I would not trade them for anything.  I wanted to share a little reflection:  1) on the habit itself, and 2) on the (clearly) unanimous choice of my name and title by the Holy Spirit, the Blessed Mother, and Mother Abbess.  I’m not sure this reflection attains to the level of mystagogy, but perhaps at least to the level of pious devotion.

The journey to Investiture for me involved a stripping of my entire identity.  So receiving the Holy Habit is a type of bearing the marks of Jesus in my body, which is integral to the Franciscan, and particularly the Clarian, charism.  I have been stripped in order to be clothed.  The Gospel for Franciscan All Saints is one that has been calling me for years.  It involves a somewhat painful, but authentic, stripping of the “old man” to enlarge capacity to receive a more precious treasure.  The tough part comes in the agreement to no refusals and no reversals in the living out of religious vows, especially in the department of interior possessions. I know what it means to feel and be naked without a religious habit, and in this way identify with the Poor Naked Christ, both at the stripping of His garments at the 10thstation, and on the Cross.  This has been a necessary kind of participation in the Paschal Mystery for me, and a good initiation into the Poor Clare monastic enclosure.  Investiture, then, is a beginning, not a consummation of, Franciscan transformation.  The rich young man in the Gospel says he already practices Commandments 4 through 10; he can’t understand what he’s missing in his life of service.  The invitation from the Lord for a total focus on his own interior purification, with emphasis on Commandments 1 through 3, frightens him.  I can understand.  The putting on even of each little piece of this habit is a conscious act of the will to not refuse the Lord anything.  The Holy Habit then becomes a prayer throughout the day and an efficacious forming of the interior disposition toward God- who you are before Him and in relation to Him.  So the Holy Habit symbolizes the little by little monastic experience of the particular judgment, an intense washing of the soul in the Precious Blood of Christ, and a promise of future glory at the Coming of the Lord as King of the Universe at the General Judgment.

How is any of this possible without a secure, even inseparable, attachment to our Blessed Mother?  When I received my name and title, Mother Abbess reminded us also of the necessary inseparability of Mother and Son. Talk about secure attachment! Our Blessed Mother bore the marks of her Son in her body in a pre-eminent way from the first moment of her existence.  In that one and the same moment she was washed in His precious Blood and clothed in the wedding garment of the Lamb before the Lamb was slain in time.  This wasn’t merely “fitting” but followed of necessity. Mary herself confessed her name “Immaculate Conception” to be of ontological value.  Her participation in the Paschal Mystery began in Anne’s womb, was consummated at the foot of the Cross, and is forever crowned and glorified.


She, as The Immaculate Conception, has also already intimately touched my entire family in many ways.  That abysmal longing of our humanity for redemption and resurrection is why we love the Blessed Virgin under this name.  Indeed, she was the “smallest seed”; above all others most in need.  In the moment of her redemption, even her flesh cried out for the living God.  My father’s death occurred on this Feast.  He died clutching his Rosary – after a long time of being estranged from the sacramental life of the Church.  Since his death he has been heavily involved in my vocation, which at first he did not understand. Blessed be the Holy and Immaculate Conception of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, who, I was delighted to discover, was so closely associated with the Franciscan Order because of the theology of John Duns Scotus.  So, she continues to ensure my fidelity through her protection.  My conversion and vocation began with her, and the receiving of her name united to the name of her Son has been a profound renewal of my belonging to her heart and her spotlessness, through which she continues to lead me into the Heart of Christ.  May the peace of these two Hearts reign in each of us.

Sister Maria Christi of the Immaculate Conception


Our Novitiate Sisters

The Baptist’s Question

$
0
0
On this 3rd Sunday of Advent, traditionally called “Gaudate Sunday” (Latin for rejoice), the Church gives us a story about a man who definitely was not rejoicing.  John the Baptist, the faithful forerunner of the Messiah, languishing in a dark prison for being politically incorrect, asks a question of Jesus:  “Are you the one who is to come or do we look for another?”  The answer Jesus gives may seem enigmatic to us, but would be crystal clear to John:  The blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk and the poor have the good news preached to them.  Such were the signs of the Messiah that John would be the first to recognize.

But why would the great St. John need to be reminded of what was obvious?  Because even the great ones of the spirit come finally to a terrifying darkness where only questions seem to fill the emptiness.  Even Jesus on the cross asked, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  And before that, in the garden of olives, His prayer had an implied question, “Father, IF it is possible, let this cup pass from me…”.  We can love St. John here in his moment of crisis, for it gives us hope when we face our own darkness and questioning.  No one born of woman is greater than the Baptist, so we are in good company if we suffer as he did.  May we also turn to Jesus in our critical moments and receive from Him our answer.

One of our Sisters, meditating on St. John’s trial wrote the following poem:

The Baptist’s Question

The shining lamp now burning low,
Buried in his dungeon hold,
By dark oppressed he begged to know
If you were he who was foretold.

Justice had been his flaming word-
The cutting ax, the winnowing fan.
But tales of mercy were what he heard-
The saving wine, the Son of Man.

Your faithful friend would understand
Your bridegroom’s festive wedding song.
His flesh foretelling at Herod’s hand
Your righting of the ancient wrong.

Forerunner of your agony,
His dungeon was Gethsemane.

 

Why December 25th?

$
0
0
One of our Sisters has a great interest in the “Hebrew Roots” of our Catholic faith.  Based on her biblical research, she has an explanation of why we celebrate Christmas on December 25th.  I personally, have a somewhat different opinion, but I will give her a hearing.  In a Franciscan community, we excel in diversity!  And we aspire to unity which is not the same as uniformity.  So, here is my beloved Sister’s contribution:

Why do we celebrate Christmas on December 25th?  There is a reason, and a very profound biblical answer to this question.  When the elderly priest Zachariah went to offer incense in the Temple in the 34th week of the year which would be in the Jewish month of Tishri on the feast of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, his encounter with the Angel Gabriel occurred.  At the end of his priestly duties he returned home and Elizabethconceived.  The small child was destined to point out the Lamb of God who atoned for the sins of the world.  What better time could divine providence choose for the one who was destined to be the forerunner of the Lord?  Nine months after Tishri, we reach the Jewish month of Tammuz, June/July.  And that is why the Church celebrates John’s birth on June 25th.  The Angel Gabriel came to Mary when Elizabeth was in her 6thmonth, Nisan or March/April which would be Passover.  So our Paschal Lamb was conceived on Passover and nine months later he came forth as the light of the world on December 25thwhich is the Jewish Feast of Lights, Chanukah.



May we follow the daughter of Zion, Mother of the Word, who kept pondering all these things in her heart.  And by imitating her simple obedient biblical faith, may we too become a light bearer to the world.

Christmas Newsletter

$
0
0
Donated Poinsettias from our Generous Benefactors Awaiting their Christmas Debut


            Bethlehem Monastery of Poor Clares
             Christmas, 2013

                      Behold, I stand at the door and knock.

                       Our dear Friends, 

We left you last issue standing before the ready-to-open door of our August novena in  honor of our Holy Mother St. Clare, but just before it opened, who should come knocking but a group of parishioners from St. Bede’s Church in Williamsburg!  They were members of the “Young at Heart” ministry, led by seminarian Miguel Melendez, stationed for the summer at St. Bede’s. They wanted to know more about us and visit our monastic dwelling place.  Since some of them are senior citizens, they did not think they would be able to come for the early morning Mass, but chose to arrive a little later for  some prayer time and parlor gatherings.  For this latter, Seminarian Miguel divided the large group into three smaller ones.  Mother assigned a few sisters for each group to answer their questions and share a little about our life.  Our new friends truly proved to be “young at heart” as they very enthusiastically participated in the informal discussions and, before heading for Richmondto visit the Little Sisters of the Poor, joined us in choir for the chanting of Sext.  We entrusted their many prayer intentions to our Holy Mother St. Clare as we began her great novena the following day.     

            You may remember that last year, we experimented with once more having our novena services in the evening with different priest-speakers, as do other of our Poor Clare houses.  However, our remote location and that dusky hour prevented many of you from attending, so we decided to return this year to having those prayers immediately following our morning Mass.  Since August 11th fell on a Sunday this year, both our morning and evening Masses were very well attended.  We thought of each of you, our dear friends, knowing that, if you could not be here in person, you were very much so in spirit, and we are sure you felt the intercession of our Holy Mother St. Clare very strongly those days.

            Did you know that August also marks the beginning of the Church’s harvest season?  A priest-friend pointed that out to us some years ago.  He said it begins on August 15th, anniversary of the day when Our Lord stood at the door of the life of Our Lady and led her forth into the glory of heaven.   That is why, in many places, an offering of produce is brought to the church to be blessed, in honor of her who is the first fruit of Jesus’ own Death, Resurrection and Ascension into Heaven.  We had never thought of that before, but when we looked at the liturgical calendar – oh, so many saints and blessed from that time all the way up to the great solemnity of all the saints and beyond –  spilling over right to the threshold of the First Sunday of Advent!  Just like our own first-time vegetable garden this year!  (Remember, we told you a bit about it last issue.)  As of this writing, it is still producing Asian vegetables and perhaps some chard, but our novitiate sisters had a wonderful time growing squash, cucumbers, beets, tomatoes, and even a few potatoes this season.  They are even looking forward eagerly to a repeat performance next year.

            September found us joining our Holy Father Pope Francis and so many others around the world knocking on the doors of the Divine Mercy for His gift of peace in our world, especially in the Middle East.  This vigil of silent prayer before the Blessed Sacrament reminded us of the prayer the Angel of Peace gave to the three shepherd children in Fatima early in 1917, telling them to pray it especially for the end of the current World War.  Do you know it? It runs like this:  “O my God, I believe, I adore, I hope, I love You.  I ask Your pardon for all those who do not believe, do not adore, do not hope, do not love You.” Such a simple prayer of adoration and intercession, yet it had such large consequences then!  Why not now as well?

            The following day saw us opening our doors to our long-time priest-friend,  Monsignor Arthur Calkins, an outstanding Mariologist and theologian, who gave us several days of retreat/classes on the triple make-up of our human nature, demonstrating from Scripture and the writings of several Fathers and Doctors of the Church that we are body, soul, and spirit – not just body and soul.  From there, Father went on to speak of our Blessed Mother and her pre-eminent role in the economy of salvation as mediatrix, co-redemptrix, etc. as spoken of in the Council documents and various papal writings.  We are so grateful to Father for all the riches he shared which we will spend many hours unpacking in the coming months.

            October, and the feast of our holy father St. Francis on its fourth day found us once more in Italy, this time accompanying our Holy Father, Pope Francis, on his pilgrimage to Assisi, hometown and major shrine of his great patron.  Many and varied as his stops were, we especially relished the one he made to our protomonastery of Poor Clares there.  And we could tell he relished it, too.

A  particularly beautiful door opened a few days later on October 7th.   That feast, of the most Holy Rosary, saw us welcoming our dear Sister Mary Joyce, who came to us a couple of years ago from India, as a permanent member of our community.  We celebrated in high festive Poor Clare style, with a special ceremony in our chapter room after Holy Mass, which included the bestowal of a new crown of thorns (her original one had broken many years ago when she went on foundation from Kerala to West Bengal) and a new ring of espousals to match those each of us receives at our solemn vows.  We kept the whole day like a bridal day, with some of Sister’s favorite music (a tape of the Syro-Malabar Mass) as well as some favorite Asian dishes at our meals. 

It seemed only a short time after doors closed on that beautiful day that, on November 9th,  another very lovely door swung open as our then-postulant Erin entered into the fullness of noviceship with the reception of our Holy Habit and a new name and title as well.  Many of you may remember from past reports in this missive the suspense that precedes this particular event, mostly surrounding that latter revelation.  Yes, many and varied were the guesses and suggestions submitted to Mother on this point, but to each she only smiled and said they were very good, but also very wide of the mark.  Finally that moment of the ceremony arrived when Mother said, “Dear Sister, in the future, you shall no longer be called ‘Erin,’ but … Sister Maria Christi of the Immaculate Conception, with your nameday on December 8th.”  Oh, what a perfect patroness Sister Maria Christi has  -- and Mother was right: we could never have guessed it!

And now we have crossed the threshold of a brand-new liturgical year, as everything turns once more to the Little One Who crossed into our world through the smallest of doors: the womb of his  Immaculate Mother Mary.  As we watch for His coming, we pray with Holy Church that our Father keep us alert -- He comes in so many guises – so that, when He comes and knocks at the doors of our own hearts, He may find us watchful in prayer and exultant in His praise.

                                               A blessed Christmas to you all! 
           
ffgfffffgggggfffggghhhhhhhggggffffffggghhh

Our Massesat Christmas

                   December 25                       Midnight Mass                      12:00 a.m.
                                                           Christmas Morning                     9:00  a.m.

                   January 1                            New Year’s Day                      8:00  a.m.

Novitiate Christmas Tree Decorating

$
0
0




Christmas Tree decorating in the Novitiate is...



  ...dangerous business! 










This is our "Charlie Brown Tree" constructed with authentic Barhamsville evergreen branches.

  Handle with care!




Guess who broke the first Christmas ornament...



         ...and the second!
Time to clean up, Sisters!

God's Poetry-A Tribute to the Infant Jesus

$
0
0
Our Sanctuary Creche

On this Feast of the Holy Family, I ask God to bless all of our families with His Christmas Peace!  I also offer here a poem by one of our novices that she shared on Christmas Day:

God’s Poetry—A Tribute to the Infant Jesus

O Wisdom of eternity, You Who made the stars, Who tamed the sea out of chaos and formed the molded land. You struck your flame in barren sky and breathed upon it life.  Your infant world You then adorned with all created beauty.  And all things had their being from the image of Your Eyes.

O Ancient Lord of Israel, You Who fashioned man, Who knit together flesh and sinew and built up bone and rib.  O Adonai, You placed in him Your Spirit, the noble gift of mind, and raised up Your own children, descended from Your Love.  You taught them your Divinity and guided them by laws, until someday Your people should fully resemble You.  You set man on the wings of greatness, till he should soar, and share the glory of 
Your Magnificent Goodness.

O Lovely Rose, O Beautiful Child, O Perfect Flower blossoming from Adam’s seed.  The fertile lands and radiant seas were wed with galaxies of stars to form the womb who’s labors bring forth the Son of God.  Time was made to be your cradle, and all creation to be the mirror of Your Face.  On the blanket of eternal Love was inscribed Your Name: Jesus our Salvation.  You are our Reality, the Joy of our existence.

O Gate of Grace, O Royal Key, God chained in human limbs to make the captives free.  Child of Light, in the darkness of sin You are our protection.  My Bridegroom, My only Love, You’ve made Your nuptials beneath the veil of death and in the tomb of pain.  From the abyss of our despair, desolation and delusion, you wed our ugliness and have pity on our shame.  In the embrace of Your Mercy you kiss our wizened face and lift our deathlike countenance unto Your glorious realm.

O Oriens, O Morning Star, O Dawn of Heavenly Light, You are gentleness of dewdrops upon the rolling fields.  Like rain of silver shimmering, You rest upon the fleece; You justice and Your peace are the white light of grace.  The splendor of Your Kingdom is flush upon Your Cheeks.  Robed in glory of Your Holiness, You are the Prince of Peace.

Yes, O Tiny Child, born so small and weak, You are the Prince of Peace.  Transformed your soft white baby’s skin, weaved by Virgin Pure, becomes the bloody Sacrifice, our newborn Paschal Lamb.  Destined to be the nations’ King, You are the Mighty God.  Drawn from heaven on angels’ wings to the hard bed of the Cross.  Rest now, swathed in mother’s mantle and filled with virginal milk.  The cold is but a foretaste of Your Love’s Bitter Cup.

O Emmanuel, our only Hope, the Luster of our race.  Your precious tears our ransom paid with song of our repentance.  You are the Gift of Reconciliation, and the seal of Love.  ‘Neath Bosom of the Triune God You are the Spring of Blessings, the Way of Truth, of understanding, the Source of all perfection.  You, O Little Jesus, are Alpha and Omega, beginning and the end.  For You was set the course of stars and cosmos spinning journey; and shrouded round you lays the dense mantle of eternal Mystery.

Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain to receive power and might, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and praise.  Before You the mountains shall bow, the cedars of Lebanon shall bend their branches, and the streams shall leap like the yearling hind.  The valleys shall flow with the milk and honey of Your Name, and the seas shall prostrate before You.  All created majesty shall rise like roaring flame… just to adorn Your Feet.


Precious child, Treasure of my heart, Holy Presence, Sacrament of Love.  It is You Who are Reality, You are Life itself, and in Your Father’s splendid poem, written just for You, 
He has written me.

Blessed New Year!

$
0
0
Our Sanctuary resplendent in poinsettias donated by our benefactors

Blessed New Year to all from Bethlehem Monastery!  I share here a poem by one of our Sisters, looking forward to Sunday's feast of Epiphany:

Gifts for the Magi


His Only Begotten given
In marriage to mankind
The Eternal Father looks afar to find
Men of faith on earth
That He might kindle fire in their hearts
To celebrate this humble birth.

From Orient He calls His guests,
Come, come to the wedding feast.

The firmament He sets ablaze,
Speaks within of mysteries
Hidden from the wise;
A new star their sacrament
In the skies.

            Toward Israel—
            O quick to believe—
            Seek the young Emmanuel.

What prize blest
Yours who leave each familiar thing
On mad search for a poor Jew King?
The awful, fled Face of every man’s quest,
Waiting, small on His Mother’s breast,
            And brighter than your star!
O drink the wine of Mary’s liquid lullaby.

Her Son adore,
            Breathless telling pour
Into wondering heart for store
            Only briefest rest.

            Then across the sands’
            Back to your oblivion,
For escort—indelible vision,
Remembered feel of God in hands,
Soft pulsing through swaddling bands;
A woman’s song to buoy the years;
Taste of His Name
            Under salt of tears
In homelands
            Never quite the same.

Baptism of the Lord

$
0
0

Baptism

Water washed he stands in Jordan's flood
And heaven tears before the Father's face.
When washed again in sacrificial blood,
The veil is rent before the Holy Place.

Water-washed I stand in flowing tide,
And see the heavens spear-rent open wide.
Blood-bathed, I with nothing left to hide,
Let the veil of fear be cast aside.

Blessed First Sunday of Ordinary Time, otherwise known as the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord!  Christmas is a wonderful season,  but we always look forward to the ordinary time that is always far from "ordinary" in a Poor Clare monastery.  Now we prepare for the entrance of our Aspirant Phoenix next month.  I am also deep into garden catalogs, planning for spring planting.  Other good things promise to happen in this new year of 2014!


Behold the Lamb of God

$
0
0

Our life is full of mysteries, unanswered questions, unfathomed realities.  For anyone desiring to have control over life, this situation can be very anxiety provoking!  But for those willing to take the risk of letting life unfold according to God’s inscrutable design, the experience can be exhilarating and wonder-filled.  The contemplative, whose special call is to gaze on God in the dark and sometimes painful mirror of faith, must make friends with mystery.  The more we gaze, and the more we see, the more we perceive that there is more to see.


In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist bids us to see:  “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”.  Yet John also says that he did not know Him although he had seen “the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him”.  It was said of Socrates that he was the wisest man in the world because he alone knew that he did not know.  The Baptist could also claim this wisdom.  The person of Jesus infinitely transcends all of our paltry attempts to understand Him.  Not that we shouldn’t try to know Him as best we can!  No, this is our joy, both in this life and in the next, to continually seek to know Him so as to love him more.  But we must never think that we have succeeded in grasping Him completely.  We cannot fit Him into the little box of our minds.  Only the Father knows Him in the absolute sense, as well as the Spirit who remains on Him.  We, on the other hand, can look forward with anticipation and perhaps some trepidation, to a lifetime of surprises in our relationship with Him.  We need not be afraid, although we often are, especially when we take our gaze from Him and start looking too much at ourselves.  That is just part of the adventure of it all.  Life with the Lord is not a walk in the park.  It is more like climbing Mount Everest, or Calvary.  One thing we do know:  everything is under control, even when it seems least so—His control, not ours.

Poor Clare Snow Fun

$
0
0

As everyone in Virginiaknows, it SNOWED last week!  True to our Franciscan heritage, Mother Abbess gave us all permission to go outside and enjoy God’s gift.  Our Father St. Francis rejoiced with exuberant joy over all the wonderful works of the Creator especially the beauties of nature and the loveliness of each person.  Here is a collage of our snow fun together.  Mother Abbess leads the way in her yellow jacket.  She is our champion sledder. Postulants made snow angels as well.  Our Indian Sisters took to the snow like pros.  One of our elders (70+ Sister Joseph) came back for more in the afternoon.  That's the Poor Clare spirit!



Ever Try Building a Monastery?

$
0
0
Sister Charitas and Sister Agnes at what would become our front entrance
 You haven’t really lived until you do!  That is, if you do survive to tell the tale.  On Thursday, January 30th, we celebrated our 10th anniversary of our transfer from our old monastery in Newport Newsto our present location in Barhamsville.  As is now our time honored custom, during our evening recreation period us old timers reminisced about our great move for our own enjoyment as well as for the benefit of the new comers who did not have the good fortune to be born into our monastic family in time to experience these “moving events”. (Pun intended)  Here are some excerpts from our newsletters of 2004 which give some idea of how it was:

Many years ago, within the format of one of our newsletters, we showed you (in words) our monastery photo album.  The response was enthusiastic, and so we want to show you a few photos from the past six months. 

The first is entitled Dateline: Jan. 30 - How did we ever do it?  It is moving day and the last contingent of bedraggled, more-than-tired sisters have just come through the kitchen door to be welcomed by the other eleven.  You see them seated around a small wobbly table, just used by three other groups in turn.  With our usual monastic schedule quite disrupted, they are having their first meal in Barhamsville.  We are happy the unusual cuisine, the paper and plastic ware, and the general disorder you see, are things of the past.

This photo we called “Poor Clare late-Winter fashions.”  This group photo was taken outside the library on the second floor after we painted our way through the corridors around the quadrangle.  Workmen from every trade are maneuvering around us, and we around them to meet some imminent deadlines.  You see us all in colorful paint-splattered sweatshirts, which our foreman, Jim Grace, had gone off to purchase for us because the heating system was not yet fully engaged. Adding to the unusual pallet of hues are the old faded habits, paint smocks, and sneakers we donned for the operation.

For the free-of-heart, love is the great stabilizer in the midst of throes.  Much has been shared about the great move that was completed by January 30th, meaning that we were all under our new roof, even if without heat in the dorm, or hot water, or telephone service.  These were easy to compensate for, at least that night, with a huge, happy feeling of accomplishment.  No one really needed warm water or central heating to sleep that night.  A few days later, we celebrated the feast of our Mother St. Colette and in his homily Father Russell Smith urged us to look at our beginnings (that is, our Founders) and stretch their graces into our own day.  He reminded us that we were at a defining moment - a moment of fidelity.  Little by little, over the coming weeks, the army of workers, still finishing up parts of the monastery, diminished and the wrinkles of much disruption began to smooth out. 


Little did we know back then that those “wrinkles” would take about eight years to “smooth out”!  A monastery is a living thing, so development, improvement and adjustment continue, though at a much more serene pace.  Our cloister courtyard is a good place to see the changes for the better on the material plane.  We hope that it symbolizes the living growth of our Poor Clare community here on Mt. St. Francis.

Cloister Courtyard 2004
Cloister Courtyard 2014

On this feast of the Presentation of the Lord, we thank God for giving us a temple where we can live and praise Him.  The psalmist says, “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain to its builders labor”.  We can testify after ten blessed years that the Lord indeed has built this house. May the candle of our Poor Clare life ever burn brightly in the Church!



Viewing all 343 articles
Browse latest View live