Water and Wine Mingled

A month or so ago, when preparing to give a little instruction on the Mass, I came across some beautiful words by St. Cyprian of Carthage.  I saved them to share here at some point.  I guess that point is now 🙂  [I do, however, feel a bit awkward and inadequate in covering such an awesome topic.]

The above-mentioned Church Father wrote:
“For because Christ bore us all, in that He also bore our sins, we see that in the water is understood the people, but in the wine is showed the blood of Christ. But when the water is mingled in the cup with wine, the people [are] made one with Christ, and the assembly of believers is associated and conjoined with Him on whom it believes; which association and conjunction of water and wine is so mingled in the Lord’s cup, that that mixture cannot any more be separated…. nothing can separate the Church — that is, the people established in the Church, faithfully and firmly persevering in that which they have believed — from Christ, in such a way as to prevent their undivided love from always abiding and adhering..”

He also points out that as there are many grains gathered into one bread, there are many people united in Christ.

It is so important that we think about what’s going on at Mass. We don’t want to simply ‘hear Mass’ as an unfortunate old expression goes. We want to take part.

I remember hearing a talk (probably when I was in college) which helps me to this day.  The speaker encouraged us to present ourselves: all that we have and are, even our needs and concerns, on the altar at the time of offertory.  She spoke of the power of this offering.

I still try to do this every time I attend Mass.  It is beautiful that we are able to do this, to unite ourselves with Jesus and His offering.

As St. Cyprian says, as the water and wine mingle and are no longer separated, so we hope to be united with Our Lord, especially in our participation at Mass.

Photo Credit: justingridveritasluxmea.blogspot.com

Let the Weak Say ‘I am Strong.’

This morning at Bible Study (which I hold each Tuesday for our residents), I again found myself to be the recipient of a lesson along with the others who gathered.

Our discussion, based on the readings from last Sunday, served to reminder and inspiration for my own spiritual journey.

In reflecting on the psalms we read (117-18), one resident simply yet poignantly pointed out that it was all about thanksgiving.  We expounded on this and pointed out our dependence upon God for everything.

I chose to follow up on this point of thanksgiving with the choice for our closing song.  It was one I learned as a child from tapes my mom used to play.  It is one that I have printed on an overhead transparency.

The words of this beautiful song were also especially pertinent to me as I am feeling my own weakness in my efforts to live as I feel I ought.  (Sometimes, just when we feel like we’re making progress, our weakness hits us again.)

Below are the lyrics and a video.  I hope they touch and inspire you as they do me.

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He’s given Jesus Christ, His Son

And now let the weak say, “I am strong”
Let the poor say, “I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us”

Oh, Darn It!

One morning, I noticed that the closure button on my left blouse sleeve was missing.  Not wanting to return home to change, I borrowed a safety pin from the reception desk to close it.

Yesterday afternoon, I thought I had better buckle down and sew a new button on.

On taking out my sewing kit, I noticed another thing I hadn’t gotten around to, that needed attending: a collection of stockings to repair.

Some of them had been there for quite some time; I remember thinking I would do it for Lenten penance last winter – so much for that…there’s still a significant collection waiting for me on this early August day!

I remember, as a novice, having lessons from our Sr. Alice one summer; I had wanted some pointers on stocking darning.  Since then, I have implemented her expert suggestions on numerous occasions.

Mending is not my favorite activity, but I think it is a good one.  It reminds us of our poverty.

Recently, I have been re-reading the Vatican II document on the renewal of Religious Life, Perfectae Caritatis.  This very document reminds us that we “must be poor both in fact and in spirit, [our] treasures being in heaven.”  It tells us that it’s not enough to say “I’m practicing poverty simply by using material things “in a way subject to the superior’s will.”

In the early days, when our sisters first came to Hankinson, they very easily experienced this poverty.  Times were hard.  Today, however, we are stilled called to follow and imitate Christ who, though He was rich, became poor for our sake.  We are still called a practice of poverty both in spirit and in fact, as the conciliar document says.

Living in a setting where we have plenty to eat (taking our meals from the resident dining room) and have our material needs met, we have to think about how we live poverty.  Our constitutions call us to reflect upon this regularly.

To me, the penance of darning stockings is one little way of following Christ in poverty.  Rather than just throwing away a pair of stockings once it gets a hole, I can stick it in my bag and repair it, whenever I finally get around to it.

We want to be like Jesus and be close to Him; that’s really what our life is about.  Although He didn’t have black leggings to mend, he did experience little sacrifices and trials because of His poverty “for our sake.”  We can do the same for Him.

Not Too Hot for Ice Cream Cake!

I woke up this morning, and must confess…my time in chapel was a little bit distracted by thoughts of cake pan dimensions and quantities of ingredients.  However, late this afternoon, having finishing stage one of my project, I had a joyful sense of gratitude for all that had been accomplished.  I was thankful that things had gone so well for this amateur baker.

It was interesting that today at Bible study, we discussed the gospel of Martha and Mary.  I shared the fact that I have the practice of asking St. Martha for her intercession for my culinary endeavors.

So, why, you might ask, was this ‘amateur baker’ distracted in chapel, rather than listening attentively like Mary?  Some explanation will follow.

We are getting ready to celebrate “St. Anne’s Week!”  This includes a special party on our patronal feast, July 26th.  For the occasion this year, I decided to make ice cream cakes -We do have ice cream on hand from some recent event and no better way to use it.

Ice cream cakes, however, do not make themselves.  A little investment of time and thought is required.

I have been juggling ideas around for tasty recipes that will accommodate dietary restrictions of some of our residents.  In the end, I should have two lemon raspberry cakes and three brownie peanut butter ones.

I know it is not until next week, but may I explain myself?  Rather than leave everything to the last minute, I would rather pace myself and get some work done well in advance.  This is especially true this week since I am not certain of what my schedule will be at the reception desk this weekend.

Thus it was that, despite a heat index of around 100, I decided to bake the crusts for my tasty treats this afternoon.  This went against what I had always been taught: one should not bake on hot days; it is not energy efficient or comfort-enhancing. The trouble was that the heat is only supposed to increase, and I had to get this done sometime.

Fortunately, I have learned a little trick which nullifies the precept against baking on hot days.  That is: do it in the kitchen at home and KEEP THE DOOR CLOSED.

No one is over at the house much during the day and the heat is well-contained within the kitchen when the door is shut.  Also, without central air, I’m not wasting energy making a device work extra hard.

So while the jury is still out on how these will turn out in the end, I have my hopes.  I would conclude by saying that on a sticky summer day, it’s not too hot for ice cream cake!

Just Some Random Questions…

I recently came across a few questions someone was posing online for others to answer.  I thought it might be good to try to respond to them here.  (While I am not an expert, I would like to remind people that I would welcome the opportunity to try to answer any of your own questions about our life.)

The questions posed included: 

• Since sisters either live in or near the church, how do they get the money for food, water, insurance, bills, and other stuff, since they don’t have jobs?
• Do sisters have free time to do other stuff they want, or is their life exclusively focused on the church?
• How much time for sleep do sisters get?
• Are sisters allowed to use technology? I go to a high school focused on computer and arts education, and it’d be tough living without computers to put apart and put back together.
• Do sisters ever get to visit family? Half my family I’ve never met, but for the family I do have, like my mom, dad, older half-brother, and younger brother, I’d hate to never see them again.

My response would be:

Sisters do not necessarily live near the church (and not in it).  We often receive a salary from our workplace, which goes to our community.  The community then provides money to cover our living expenses.

Everybody needs some free time, but we do tend to work fairly long hours.  In our community, the amount of sleep we get is up to the individual.  Some communities are more strict and have a more set horarium (daily schedule).

Sisters are allowed to use technology, but we need to keep a watch that it does not suck too much of our time and energy.  I actually use a computer a lot for my work.
Yes, a sister’s families can visit (in my community) and we do visit them.  Cloistered communities and some others may have more restrictions on this.  Actually, my parents recently stopped by on their way home from a school reunion and joined us for lunch and a visit.

Sr. Christina M. Neumann

 

Grateful for a Strange Sort of Blessing

Four dozen cookies in all

After my last post about not being so busy as to lose the spirit of prayer and devotion, I mentally chided myself about what I was getting myself into yesterday morning.

Last fall, we froze a bunch of pumpkin that we had received, cleaned, baked, peeled, mashed and bagged.  I’ve noticed that we are still amply supplied with frozen blocks of this mashed vegetable enclosed in plastic.

I also know that our residents really love the homemade goodies.  Sr. Rebecca, our administrator, kind of encouraged the matter.  So, Thursday evening, I had made my way to the freezer in our garage where much of my store of pumpkin from last fall still awaited use.  I pulled out a sack of pumpkin to thaw.

The next morning, I got up extra early, and after time in chapel, praying and doing my sacristy duties, I set to work on the cookies.

The night before, I had also found that we had some chocolate in the cupboard that was ‘going no where.’  We also had a canister of cashews that were not getting eaten.

Furthermore, I had noticed another item when I was cleaning out the kitchen cupboard in the activity room earlier in the week: ice cream cones!  They must have been purchased for a special occasion with quite a few left over.  We really have no use for them at present and they “weren’t getting any younger.”  Rather than toss them, or let them set around in the cupboard for weeks or months to come, I let the adventurous spirit get the better of me; I crushed the cones.  (I didn’t have anymore oatmeal on hand, so crushed ice cream cones seemed a fine alternative.)

I also was going to try out some of the new spices I had received from my parents for my birthday, including allspice (which I am not accustomed to using.)

As if that weren’t enough of a complicated baking experience, I was also dealing with an oven problem.  The top heating element in the oven I normally used seems to have gone out.  Consequently (until we get it fixed) I’ve had to bring items to bake over to our convent kitchen.  So when it was time to bake, back and forth, back and forth I went…

Early in the morning, I had microwaved the part of the pumpkin that had not thawed overnight.  I strained and measured it – four cups.  After choosing a recipe and deciding to double it, I figured I would use half of the pumpkin, that is, two cups.

Also having Mass and office duties, it was quite a bit to get all the baking done in between.  And, I thought, I still have two more cups of thawed pumpkin to deal with.  I was encouraged to just make up more cookies.  Oh boy, I thought, I’ve got some more work to do!  With the complication of hauling prepared cookie sheets over to the convent to bake, this day could be full.  Residents and visitors would really like the cookies, though, so okay…

I went back into the activity room to put together a second double batch.  By this time, I had procured a canister of oatmeal from our main kitchen, but I had used up all the chocolate.  Maybe some raisins would be a good idea?

I went to the sink where I had strained out the pumpkin (I find this is important for making cookies), but there was no pumpkin.  I scanned the kitchen area, but it was no where to be found!

The only  conclusion I could reasonably make (No person in their right mind would steal pumpkin!) is that I must have unconsciously used ALL the pumpkin in my first double-batch of cookies.  This would make sense, too, because the cookies had been a little difficult to bake, taking quite a long time to get thoroughly done; extra pumpkin could easy account for this.

What a relief – if all the thawed pumpkin was already used up, I didn’t need to do any more baking!  I could clean up my dishes and get on with other matters in the afternoon!  I considered my little mistake a blessing in disguise!  I was grateful for the missing pumpkin!

Sr. Christina M. Neumann

“Please Carry Me”

We just returned late last evening from our annual six-day retreat.  It was a good experience, though by Day Six, as usual, I was getting a little antsy from all the silence and lack of regular work routine.

One great thing about it was that this year’s retreat was that the priest retreat master gave us a scripture passage or two to use for prayer and reflection during the time after the conferences.

The retreat’s theme centered around mercy during this special jubilee year.  The meaning of the Hebrew and Greek words used in scripture referring to God’s mercy was conveyed as well.

An image that struck me at some point in the retreat, and which I am carrying with me, is that of the Good Shepherd with the little lamb on His shoulders.  During his conferences, Father referred to the official image for this year of mercy, which draws from this scriptural image but puts a unique spin on it.  (The image shows a person being carried rather than a sheep.)

In my own weakness, this image of the shepherd and small lamb speaks powerfully to me.  During the retreat, I prayerfully came to some resolutions for my personal life, areas in which I need to do better.

However, I realize all too well how weak I am and how easily I can fall back into old habits. This is one major area that this image of the shepherd carrying the little lamb is helpful to me.  My prayer has become through the course of this retreat: “Lord, pleas carry me…I know from experience I can’t do it alone, and I’ll fail.  But, with you carrying me, day by day, I hope to make some progress.”

~ ~ ~

I was blessed to have my sister with us for part of the retreat.  She mentioned that she had seen my poem in the elevator; I had composed it as a postulant during the weekly chore of cleaning the stainless-steel elevator in the Hankinson convent.  It was entitled: “A Message from the elevatory” and it playfully encouraged those riding to remove their smear marks if they left them inside by touching the surface.

I only mention this because my confirmation saint, Therese of Lisieux, shared spiritual thoughts about the elevator.  Her reflections came to mind during the retreat since they tie in with (and confirm) my own on the shepherd carrying the helpless little lamb.

She wrote: “I wanted to find an elevator which would raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection. I searched then in the Scriptures for some sign of this elevator, the object of my desires and I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: ‘Whoever is a little one let him come to me.’ The elevator which must raise me to heaven is your arms, O Jesus, and for this I have no need to grow up, but rather I have to remain little and become this more and more.”

Keeping God on the Streets

Veil, crucifix, ring, and written formula of Profession at my first vows (August 11, 2008)

Please don’t take me wrong – I’m not thinking I’m better than anybody else…I am simply reflecting on something that’s been on my heart a little bit after a recent experience.

I was a bit disturbed by something I saw recently, although it is not new to me: I encountered some religious Sisters not wearing their veils.  I have asked myself, “Why should this disturb me?  Why do I react to it interiorly?  Why does it bother me and even weigh on my heart when I see this?”  (In fact, there was a time during my discernment of religious life, in which I did not have my same convictions about this.)

In reflecting and then sharing my thoughts on the matter, I want to clarify that I do not see the religious habit or the veil as a way of saying “I’m better than you.”  I don’t think that at all.  Far from being used to insinuate superiority, if anything, it can be seen as a sign of a servant.  In fact, among the functions of the religious garb, Vita Consecata names its being “a sign…of poverty.”  More importantly, it is a sign of consecration, as this same ecclesial document reminds us.

Wearing a veil tells people something; we don’t have to say a word.   When people see a Sister in her veil, they see a servant, one dedicated entirely to God.  Actually, they are reminded of Christ and see Him.  Wearing our religious garb is a way of “keeping God on the streets.” St. John Paul II shared these sentiments, as is seen in one of his addresses to religious.  He encouraged them (and us):

“Do not hesitate to be recognizable, identifiable, in the streets as men and women who have consecrated their lives to God and who have given up everything worldly to follow Christ. Believe in the value for contemporary men and women of the visible signs of your consecrated lives. People need signs and reminders of God in the modern secular city, which has few reminders of God left. Do not help the trend towards ‘taking God off the streets’ by adopting secular modes of dress and behavior yourselves!”

In researching this issue, I found that Canon Law really has some beautiful reflections to offer for us Religious.  Along with exhorting us that “Religious are to wear the habit of the Institute…as a sign of their consecration and as a testimony of poverty” (Can. 669 section §1), the preceding section offers some beautiful and profound thoughts on this life to which we have been called.

Although I do not want to criticize anyone, I feel that when Sisters do not wear the veil, they are missing out (or rather causing others to miss out).  They are not bearing the witness to Christ which they are called to give.  They are missing an opportunity to remind others of the love of God for all the people they meet “on the streets.”

So, far from being a separating feature or a way of trying to show superiority or anything of that sort, I see the veil very differently.  I see it as a way of helping bring our Lord to all those we encounter.  It also says: “I am a poor servant and am available to you, to pray for you and journey with you.”

As Sisters, we have a unique opportunity to bring a reminder of Christ to anyone and everyone we meet.  I pray that more Sisters will realize this and consider wearing the veil, seeing it not as a barrier but as a bridge bringing people closer to God.

Sr. Christina M. Neumann

Closed Ears…Open Heart

Last night, around 1:00 a.m., I wheeled a large pink suitcase into my bedroom; I was finally home!

How good it was (is) to be back in my homeland…in the United States…in the Midwest…in Grand Forks, North Dakota!  As beautiful as Germany is, and as kind as the people were, it was not home, and German is not my native language.

The nearly three weeks I spent abroad gave my a much-renewed sense of gratitude for our country and for all that is familiar to me.

This time of travelling, of celebrating our Congregation’s rich and lengthy history, has opened my heart in an unexpected way.

Ours is a community with German roots, founded in 1241, in a place I was recently privileged to visit.  However, my German is very limited.  I know some key words and phrases, but not enough to understand a lot of conversation.

Most of the Sisters we visited in conjunction with our 775th anniversary knew at least a little English.  However, the conversations inevitably switched back to their native language, German, leaving me unable to comprehend what was being said, save an occasional couple of words.

We had some of what was said (especially on tours and at official gatherings) translated, but for much of the time, my ears could well have been closed for all I could glean from the collection of foreign sounds.

This mentally straining experience of being immersed in a language incomprehensible to me was actually a fruitful one.  It opened to eyes to what other people go through.  Being in Germany as an English-speaker made me think of what it must be like for the many people who are forced to leave their homeland and immigrate to another county with a language they do not understand.

I knew that I would be returning home, to my own language and to all I hold familiar in a short time.  Many others know, in contrast, that they will never be able to return home.  How very difficult that must be!

This experience, which “open[ed] the eyes of my heart” inspires my to pray for and sympathize with the refugees of our time.  I was also reminded of our Sisters who first came to America early in the last century.  One of my travelling companions pointed out the sacrifices they made and the hardships they endured.

(To see more pictures, you can visit our album.

Sr. Christina M. Neumann, OSF

Checking in and Joining in Praise

I am presently away and have not had Computer access.  However, I wanted to let people know that this blog still exists.  However, I will not be posting regularly until after I return to Grand Forks around May 24th. 

In the meantime, I hope you find a Little inspiration from St. Francis# beautiful prayer which I will share below.

You are holy Lord God Who does wonderful things.
You are strong. You are great. You are the most high.
You are the almighty king. You holy Father,
King of heaven and earth.
You are three and one, the Lord God of gods;
You are the good, all good, the highest good,
Lord God living and true.
You are love, charity; You are wisdom, You are humility,
You are patience, You are beauty, You are meekness,
You are security, You are rest,
You are gladness and joy, You are our hope, You are justice,
You are moderation, You are all our riches to sufficiency.
You are beauty, You are meekness,
You are the protector, You are our custodian and defender,
You are strength, You are refreshment. You are our hope,
You are our faith, You are our charity,
You are all our sweetness, You are our eternal life:
Great and wonderful Lord, Almighty God, Merciful Savior.

It’d help to use the right key!

What a busy day it’s been!

Chapel duties in the morning, before heading to work as receptionist at our front desk…And, while there, I was involved in a big, multifaceted project.

In fact, when the time came for “the changing of the guard,” as we sometimes call it, I asked my relief person to do ‘Reading Hour’ for me.  (That is the semi-weekly session where I read a book aloud to our residents.)  Sr. Rebecca and I were engrossed in work on our project and were almost done with one major part.

Before this shift change, however, I had an interruption.   A phone call came from a resident upstairs that there was water on the floor up in Bathroom #2 on the ladies’ floor.  Around the same time, another woman came by and reported the same issue.

Unfortunately, our aide (whose responsibility such plumbing problems would be) was out picking up two residents from a medical procedure.

Rather than letting the problem go until she returned, Sr. Rebecca and I both agreed that I should look into the situation.  (I had visions of a stream of toilet water flowing out into the main hall.)

Sr. Rebecca manned the reception desk where we were working hard on our project, and I hustled upstairs.  Sure enough, water was definitely out of the stall and had proceeded into other areas of that bathroom.

I opened the door to the culprit toilet to find a massive amount of toilet paper still in the bowl.  Thankfully, I had an extra glove still in my pocket.  I grabbed the nearby wastebasket, fished into the toilet (with the gloved hand), and extracted the glob of toilet paper.  It flushed easily after that.

Now, there was the problem of the stream of toilet water on the floor…off to get supplies.

I carry keys on me all the time: in one pocket, I have the one to our convent and in the other, I have four keys on the same clasp for various locks around St. Anne’s.  I use them frequently.

I know that my square-shaped key opens any janitor closets throughout the building., so I reached in my pocket and extracted a gold, square key as I headed across the hall to a nearby closet room.  I put it in the key hole and attempted to turn it, without success.  I pulled it out and tried again, with the same frustrating results.

At a loss as to what was wrong, I called down to Sr. Rebecca, still at the reception desk, and asked her if they had changed the locks.  She said they had not and offered to get a mop bucket from down there.  I said that I would try the other closet and call back if it didn’t work.

So, I proceeded to the other door, put in my square key, and attempted to open it; no success here either.  What a day!  In the midst of all this, I remembered that I had washed off my key that morning because it had somehow become sticky.  I re-checked the key to make sure there was no remaining debris that could be hindering its functionality.  The key seemed to be fine, so what could be the trouble?

Finally, I took another look at the key.  It was a single key, with no others attached on the key-ring.  That was odd; my janitor key was accompanied by three other important door-openers.  What was up with that?  Then, I realized: this was the square key from my other pocket, the one to the convent…No wonder it wouldn’t work!

It’d help to use the right key, I guess!  I’m glad that those above who hold keys always know which ones to use and how best to use them.  That’s reassuring!

 

What’s an Impulse?

This year, we are celebrating the 775^th Anniversary of our community’s existence. On that happy occasion, the Sisters of our international congregation are engaging in special discussions.

The Sisters in our generalate in Germany are providing us with reading materials and discussion questions on the three evangelical counsels. What is so neat about this is that they are specific to our Franciscan congregation, drawing from numerous sources, including our own constitutions. I am so grateful for these materials and for the discussion this occasion is bringing about within our local community.

It is so special, to me, to read and discuss materials written for Dillingen Franciscans by Dillingen Franciscans – they are specifically tailored to us.

The language, however, does not seem ‘specifically tailored to us’ Americans. The documents were originally written in German and the English translation is quite interesting at times.  Americans do not use all the English words in the same ways as Indians (I believe Indians Sisters translated).  An example which we chuckle at is the “Impulses.”

The documents we are reading together offer questions for discussion at the end of each section. Somehow, they are given the heading of “Impulses.”  Maybe the original German word had a different connotation.

Impulses or no impulses, I am very grateful for these discussions which, in accord with our Constitutions, “serve the honor of God, strengthen the oneness of the community, and promote our apostolic service.”

Thankfully, the frequency of these discussions is guided by our directives and our schedule, rather than by impulse.

“Keep My Eyes on Jesus…”

Sometimes, do you find, that life isn’t so easy?

Between difficulties of daily life, spring fever (getting sick of the cold weather and gray skies), and whatever else comes, it can be easy enough to forget the joy of this Easter season we’re in the middle of celebrating.

Recently, when thinking about this, a wonderful realization came to mind.  We can get mopey and down when keeping our eyes on ourselves.

If I can change my focus, my attention, from myself to Jesus, I will be much better off.   Instead of dwelling on myself and my struggles, I need to look to Jesus and “keep my eyes on [Him].”

There is a song about Peter walking on the water which comes to mind.  The refrain is: “If I keep my eyes on Jesus, I can walk on water.”

This is very true; if only I can remember it!

Easter triumph, Easter Joy…

Happy Easter everyone!!!  And please, don’t forget we can say that for 48 more days!  (People seem to do a double-take if you greet them with this joyful expression any time after Easter Monday morning.  I think that is too bad.)

We’ve waited and prepared for so long to celebrate the joy of our Lord’s glorious resurrection, but so many people are so quick to act like the season is over when we’re barely into the octave.

I prefer to take advantage of it.  This morning, in Bible study, we really got into the joy of Easter, singing Easter hymns and reading the gospel accounts from that first Easter Sunday morning.  (We only got about half way through the accounts, so we have plenty more material for next week. 🙂  )   That activity room was really buzzing with the Alleluia’s.

After Bible study, I had to take a moment to recover from laughter.  To prevent boredom from too much sitting and listening, I decided to have a few people act out one of the resurrection appearance accounts: that of the road to Emmaus.

When one of the residents (who was filling the role of one of the two disciples traveling from Jerusalem) used the phrase “passed away” when trying to say what they ‘spoke of on the way,” I couldn’t resist a chuckle – what a turn of phrase!

I plan on returning to these beautiful accounts of people encountering our Risen Lord multiple times during these seven weeks of Easter.   I like to place myself in the scenes as I pray.  I even use them for meditation while reciting the rosary, taking a different Easter encounter for each decade.

Lift High the Cross, the Love of Christ Proclaim …

With these words we call to mind the centrality of the Cross in our lives these Lenten days and now especially in Holy Week.   This morning in religious education one of my third grade students asked, “Sister, what is the difference between the cross and the crucifix?”  Answering him reminded me of the numerous depictions of the cross we see in our world today.  One of the special crosses we reflect on in our Franciscan world is the San Damiano Cross from which our Lord, Jesus, spoke to Saint Francis asking him to “rebuild the Church, which as you can see, is falling into ruin.”

Another unique cross we Franciscans ponder, at least in the Hankinson Province of the Dillingen Franciscans, is the ceramic display in the hallway of the provincial house in Hankinson.  This has relief sculpture details the life of Saint Francis of Assisi in six panels arranged in the shape of the cross.  Often when touring visitors at the convent I have the privilege of telling highlights of the inspiring story of the life of our founder, one of the most beloved saints of Christianity.

The biographical panels depict Francis, who before his conversion, abhorred the sight of lepers and would ride several miles out of his way to avoid them, when one day he met a leper, was moved to get off his horse and embrace the man, realizing Jesus had disguised himself as a leper to meet Francis.  He later wrote that from then on what he had despised now became sweet and he was overjoyed at the mercy of God! Francis went on to live with the lepers for some time in the early days of his conversion, before the Lord gave him brothers.

Another panel depicts Francis sending his brothers out, two-by two, to preach the Gospel as our Lord commanded.

Various other scenes from the life of Francis are memorialized in this piece of art designed by our German born Sister Edelwida, whose father had a ceramic factory near Dillingen.  The sculpture, made in 1935, was shipped to the U.S. in blocks and placed/cut into the wall of the hallway leading to chapel.  The reminder when I walk by: “who are the lepers in my life? Have I embraced them?  Have I had a conversion, a turning point in my life, to see Christ in each person I encounter?”

One of my favorite panels is on the left crossbar.  It shows Francis lying on the ground, with his hand raised in blessing.  He had asked his brothers to take him to the hill outside the city of Assisi so he could bless the people once more before he died. In recent Franciscan history, in the 1950’s, the Siena Testament was discovered in which Francis dictated: “Write that I bless all my brothers, those who are in the Order and those who will enter it until the end of the world …” I take this blessing personally!

Would that more of us would embrace the cross, the lepers and the whole world in our prayer as Saint Francis of Assisi did.  May the holy days this week and the time of the Tridum be filled with a realization of God’s deep, abiding mercy, for you and those whom you encounter!

~ Sister M. Jean Louise Schafer, OSF

Grasping the Cross Today

Monday morning, I was asked to be the cross-bearer for Sr. Magdalen’s funeral; Sr. Ann Marie had called me last week and asked me to do it.

I wanted to do a good job, to hold it properly and at the right height, etc.  I also wanted to have a good hold on the processional cross so it would not slip down on me.  Later, at Sister’s burial, I was also responsible to hold up a smaller, wooden crucifix, a duty I had not known was mine previously.

Holding, even grasping, the cross was touching to me.  It inspired me, especially during Lent, that this is what, ideally, I should be doing in my daily life.

Sebastiano del Piombo ~ Christ Carrying the Cross

Like anyone else, I have my cross to bear.  Jesus says in the gospel, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”  Many saints have made comments on the cross and the value of suffering, including St. Paul in his writings.

There is no getting away from the cross in our Christian life.

How often, though, do we really recognize our cross and take it up conscientiously out of love for Christ?

Do I ever ‘grasp’ my cross, like I did the processional cross yesterday? Do I recall that this is my way of saying “I really do love you” to the One who grasped His cross for us?

What’s Zwetschgendatsche?

We received word today that our Sister Magdalen Schaan died. I am well-acquainted with her from my days as a postulant in Hankinson.  I created the title C.S.T.S. for the help that I provided to Sr. Magdalen: Christina’s Secretarial & Transportational Services.  (I guess spell-check doesn’t like my word ‘transportational,’ but I’ll get over it – Sr. Magdalen didn’t object :).

I helped her with some letter writing and pushed her around in her wheelchair, which gave rise to this title.  Another involvement I had with Sr. Magdalen was interviewing her to get her memories of serving on the different missions recorded.

That’s when I learned about Zwetschgendatsche…

Sr. Magdalen was a baker and a cook.  One of the missions she served at was in Chicago, working for the Carmelite Fathers there.  Actually, that was her first assignment (1939-47). In this interview, she remembered that Chicago was smoky and had high humidity.  She went on to share a memory which brought her to chuckle in recalling it.

Sr. Magdalen shared: “When Sr. Salutaris graduated…got her master’s degree…we had a play for her. And we played everything back what happened to her when she was in Chicago.  It was a lot of fun.  And she enjoyed it…and I asked her what she wanted for her graduation and she said Zwetschgendatsche.  So I made five Zwetschgendatsche and put it on her bed, and she laughed and laughed and laughed.  I thought she’d never stop laughing.”  After Sr. Magdalen had recounted all this, I asked her: “What’s Zwetschgendatsche?”  She told me that “Zwetschgendatsche is something like a kuchen and then you put zwerschge* on top.  And sugar and cinnamon.”   (*zwerschge = plum)

Sr. Magdalen had baked these plum desserts and put them (still in the pans) on the bed of her fellow Sister as a joke.

Now, that’s a Sister after my own heart.  (I have begun my research on harmless April Fools’ tricks for next month.)

Sr. Magdalen and I made a food-related memory of our own during my days of C.S.T.S.  One day, we had breaded chicken and it was a bit tough.  For weeks afterward, we kidded about ‘crunchy chicken’ with each other.

Sr. Christina M. Neumann

Are You Ready for Me?…Yes, I’m Ready for You!

I have way too much fun sometimes when I work as a personal care aide!

A prime example lies in a little ritual dialog I hold every night I work with one of our female residents.  It is my responsibility to dry her support stockings after she has washed them; she does not have the needed hand strength to wring them out properly.  Without assistance, they remain wet even into the morning.

By herself, she does remove and wash the socks.  When I come to her door, before entering, I call out her name, rolling it off my tongue with a little twang we have developed.  She replies, “Yeeeeeessssss.”

Next, I inquire: “Are you ready for me?,” to which she responds, “Yes, I’m ready for you.”  We have way too much fun with our little conversation in an accent resembling I don’t know what.  We love to tease each other.

I come in, dry her stockings, visit briefly, and go on my way, glad that she was ready for me and had her stockings washed (one less thing I have to do).  [There have been a few times that she didn’t get them washed, but I can deal with that]

Although we’re in the middle of the Lenten season, this little reflection on the words “Are you ready for me” reminds me of Advent and our spiritual reflections at that time.

This routine question could, in a way, be posed to each of us on a daily basis.  In our daily life, our interactions, is Jesus perhaps asking each of us: “Are you ready for me?”

Is the way I live, the way I treat others, reflective of one who is ready to meet Him?  Or better yet, is it reflective of a soul aware of meeting Him daily in each person encountered?

I want to be aware, especially when called upon to serve someone I may not care to help, that Jesus is asking me to be ready for Him and to serve Him in each person.

 

 

 

Fragrance Prayer

In preparing for our upcoming Bible Study, Cardinal Newman’s ‘Fragrance Prayer’ came to mind.  The lesson is on this Sunday’s readings, including the gospel about the Transfiguration.

We will be doing a little craft, taking a silhouette of Jesus cut from construction paper to make a sun catcher with tissue paper behind it.  I will have our residents tape or staple this beautiful, little prayer beneath it.

I wanted to share the prayer here as well:

Dear Jesus,

help me to spread your fragrance everywhere I go;

Flood my soul with your spirit and life;

Penetrate and possess my whole being

so completely that all my life may be
only a radiance of yours;

Shine through me and be so in me
That everyone with whom I come into contact

May feel your presence within me.

Let them look up and see no longer me—
but only Jesus.

Stay with me and then I shall begin
to shine as You shine,

So to shine as to be a light to others;

The light, O Jesus, will be all from You;

none of it will be mine;
It will be you,

shining on others through me.

Amen.

“In the Morning When I Rise…Give Me Jesus”

There is an old folk song: “In the morning when I rise…give me Jesus.”  Although it sounds a bit forward at first, it makes a point that really resonates with me, especially after my recent travels.

I was privileged to attend a weekend retreat for the High School Youth Group from my home parish of St. Joseph’s in West St. Paul, Minnesota.  After this, I had a day and a half to spend with my family back there.

It was so nice to be able to take part in these activities.  However, as the days went on, I did miss the proximity of our Lord’s Eucharistic presence to which I am accustomed here at St. Anne’s.  No longer was the a chapel right down the hall, and I had to try to sneak in private prayer where I could get it.  I really missed my time of quiet with Jesus first thing in the morning.

This time has become dear to me and provides me with needed support for my daily life.  I find that difficult times have made me appreciate and rely upon this time of prayer early in the morning more than ever before.