tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30281058840165355562024-03-13T08:30:00.961-07:00Marsha's MusingsThoughts on education, politics, life, family, and religionMarsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-59029842458429745912015-12-26T19:47:00.000-08:002015-12-26T19:48:59.741-08:00Where did the time go?I kept this blog up till about three years ago - and then I abandoned it. I had other priorities as I found my place in Michigan with the IHM Sisters. I was in formation, at the time, to become an Associate member of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Two years ago, on December 27, 2013, I made my commitment there. And in 2014 and 2015 I began to live it out. My "temporary commitment" was for three years, so next December I will ask to be allowed to make another temporary commitment - probably for another three years.<br />
<br />
But I came here with full intention to live here for the rest of my life. And that has never changed.Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-55358827193040087862013-10-19T14:08:00.002-07:002013-10-19T16:56:53.788-07:00Finding my way . . . 2013I have not made an entry in this blog since I left Visitation Monastery last January 7 - and now it is October. So there is a gap of some 10 months. How do I bridge from where I was then - at Visitation Monastery - and where I am now, with the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Monroe, Michigan?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will try to make a bridge that will fill in the gap. But journeys are not always simple, as you will see.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I left Visitation in Minneapolis, I went first to California where I celebrated my 75th birthday with my family. Then home to Forks, WA in February to settle back into my home of nearly 40 years, where I stayed, for the most part for the next several months, giving myself time to assess and own all that has been happening to me these past two years.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I knew that my <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/" target="_blank">Visitation experience</a> was necessarily time-limited. I was there for the 6 (to 12) month <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/visitation-companions/monastic-immersion-experience/" target="_blank">Monastic Immersion Experience</a> - which I encourage others to check out! It was an amazing, life-giving, and life-changing experience. I will never be the same, and I'm grateful for the gifts which I took with me when I moved on - gifts of prayer, community, and a vision of Gospel living which I will continue to try to implement wherever I am.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I knew when I went there, that I would go from there to pursue a relationship with the IHM Sisters.</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQugnuSxGuukf0kBTrngcVwokcdVeBsIH0t5l3ZYpKjDwdNkAz1T8JDVvKdrI7GT0kMVL5yjv623HHnnzVA1OVwNRAt5ZdNkqt4_Taabg7F2ep-r8RQ2fnV0TRbGdlvtqzvv4OZJon34/s1600/Vismass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQugnuSxGuukf0kBTrngcVwokcdVeBsIH0t5l3ZYpKjDwdNkAz1T8JDVvKdrI7GT0kMVL5yjv623HHnnzVA1OVwNRAt5ZdNkqt4_Taabg7F2ep-r8RQ2fnV0TRbGdlvtqzvv4OZJon34/s320/Vismass.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
Mass at Visitation Monastery 2012 </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPCuFkmH7r3Eaa-6fbmjZdNYBaFo4vm_HX81-DKKiPZYEs9EjkSLRxNN3VTc4n51_h9kOjsL-vfPYCmMjcmpHePVI3folKf0mn_KNxvQWcXY7UsybC_N_dG3r3kd0M7pUhcO2m1xXEiw/s1600/Jubilee2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPCuFkmH7r3Eaa-6fbmjZdNYBaFo4vm_HX81-DKKiPZYEs9EjkSLRxNN3VTc4n51_h9kOjsL-vfPYCmMjcmpHePVI3folKf0mn_KNxvQWcXY7UsybC_N_dG3r3kd0M7pUhcO2m1xXEiw/s320/Jubilee2012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preparing for Jubilee Mass at IHM Motherhouse 2012<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The IHM sisters are an apostolic congregation - famous for their high level of education, for their work as educators and for their leadership in implementing Vatican II in religious life. Their lives were very different from the monastic Sisters of Visitation. They taught school, worked in college ministry, were professors in universities - too many ministries to even try to summarize.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaiyJpwv8igfmDmlrujXoFu0y93ZV6qGr699WHhDyQUXX9UgVFbgZ5vUD9nVqB29-aUwLxl7K0GZknseRZb6UM5ji0-L5kBXGo4hcgamrXOse2kvGTUbMEi7WLw15kCGcUzH3p-oEYuE/s1600/fhs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaiyJpwv8igfmDmlrujXoFu0y93ZV6qGr699WHhDyQUXX9UgVFbgZ5vUD9nVqB29-aUwLxl7K0GZknseRZb6UM5ji0-L5kBXGo4hcgamrXOse2kvGTUbMEi7WLw15kCGcUzH3p-oEYuE/s200/fhs.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forks High School<br />
as it was when I taught there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When Don and I moved to Forks in 1974, it was with a clear sense that God was calling us there. This is where I finished raising my kids and where I taught for 27 years at Forks High School. My students and colleagues at QVSD are my lifetime friends, as are my fellow parishioners at at <a href="http://stanneforks.com/" target="_blank">St. Anne's Parish</a> where I have lived nearly all of my Catholic life. I needed time to enjoy being in Forks and to make preparations for what was to come. I have never before ever considered a life not based in Forks.<br />
<br />
In June I traveled with my daughter-in-law Mary to Monroe, Michigan to begin a new life with the IHM Sisters. I had discovered that I really would like to be a religious Sister, a nun, but I am too old to be accepted for profession. However, I am becoming an Associate member of the IHM congregation. I have been here nearly four months now, and I love my life. I live across the parking lot from the IHM Mother House in a facility called Norman Towers. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWhyO96Vflf24ajwwdu0PWPuMNXZxo4KXNFQJemgr9waakbiJPHKsN5EEYaFj8MBEko_aTMMFXKT0ujFx8SDT1CZUPA2fG6sE_Uj3Suzjem39TXFERJEShHIXJn5pEKj8fmTFUuREB7E/s1600/250px-NormanTowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWhyO96Vflf24ajwwdu0PWPuMNXZxo4KXNFQJemgr9waakbiJPHKsN5EEYaFj8MBEko_aTMMFXKT0ujFx8SDT1CZUPA2fG6sE_Uj3Suzjem39TXFERJEShHIXJn5pEKj8fmTFUuREB7E/s320/250px-NormanTowers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It used to be called the Hall of the Divine Child (more familiarly, "the Hall" back in the day when it was a military school for elementary school boys). Most of the older Sisters lived here in summers when they were "home" from their missions. Now it is a retirement residence. I have a two room apartment here, which I have made my home. My room is on the third floor in the southwest corner - hidden behind the evergreen tree to the left.<br />
<br />
I go every morning to mass at the Motherhouse. I take most of my meals with the Sisters in their dining commons. I do some volunteer work in the house - mostly reading to Sisters who have failing vision. I participate in retreats, attend concerts in the chapel, and generally share life with the retired Sisters who live there. And I have friendships with some of the Sisters who are still active. Several of them live in Norman Towers where I live. I am taking a turn at Norman Towers leading Sunday communion services for those unable to get out to church.<br />
<br />
When people ask me why I am here, I am almost at a loss to know how to answer. I always knew what my calling was - I was called to marriage, to motherhood, to a career as a teacher, to live in Forks, Washington. But after Don died in March of 2009, I began to have a longing to a different sort of life - a life that was focused, prayerful, sacramental. I wanted to live among religious Sisters and share their lives, even if I couldn't be a Sister myself.<br />
<br />
When I visited the Monroe IHM campus for the first time it was to attend a conference of folks involved in the <a href="http://anunslife.org/" target="_blank">"A Nuns' Life Ministry,"</a> an online ministry helping people to discern the call of God in their lives in a very broad sense. I had begun volunteering with this ministry after I closed down my educational consulting business. I have had a great interest in how to build and maintain online communities since getting involved in the Virtual High School toward the end of my 30 years of teaching, so working with an online community of folks interested in prayer, spirituality, and religious life was a real joy for me.<br />
<br />
But in coming here, I began to recognize a real hunger for the life I saw here . . . and I began to discern with others here - and with my spiritual director - what might be still possible for me at this point in my life. I was grateful to be invited to the Monastic Immersion Experience at Visitation along my way, because I was seeking a life of deeper prayer and meaningful community.<br />
<br />
So now I am in Monroe, MI. I'm just completing the formation process for becoming an Associate member of the IHM congregation - my family will be coming in December to celebrate that event with me - which means more to me than they can possibly know.<br />
<br />
So, having provided at least this fragment of a bridge, perhaps I can begin to share the bits and pieces of my life here that I find so very rich . . .<br />
<br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Come with me.</span></i></b> <i>I'd like to share this journey with you . . .</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-10421535319807532472013-01-10T17:53:00.000-08:002013-01-10T19:46:00.370-08:00To love that well which thou must leave 'ere long . . . When I was in high school, I kept a notebook where I copied my favorite poems. This is the first one in the book - Shakespeare's Sonnet 73<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px;"></span></span><br />
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">That time of year thou mayst in me behold<span style="color: black; font: 18.0px Times;"> </span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">
</span>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
As after sunset fadeth in the west;</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Which by and by black night doth take away,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Death's second self, that seals all up in rest.</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font: 16.0px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
To love that well which thou must leave ere long. </div>
</span></blockquote>
I love the whole poem - and came to understand it over time as a set of three images having to do with old age and dying . . . but that last couplet spoke to me then and has always spoken to me most powerfully of what it means to invest ourselves in what must necessarily be temporary.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>This thou perceiv'st,</b><i> (that life is short - and even the objects of one's love change and decline toward death)</i> <b>which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.</b></blockquote>
I knew nothing of <i>detachment </i> in those days - when you are young, life is all about attachment, not detachment. When you are older you learn - or should be learning - to hold loosely what you love, knowing that everything in this life is temporary - except love.<br />
<br />
I knew when I came here to Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis that I would love life here, and that I would come to love the people here - but that my stay here would be temporary. That's built into the "monastic immersion experience." It's a temporary commitment to live the monastic rhythms for six months to a year - and my situation dictated six months.<br />
<br />
It was only the beginning of Advent when I wrote my last blog - and Christmas came and went so swiftly that I never did update it. And the end of my six months came only days later. I left on January 5th and am now visiting my family in California and celebrating, this weekend, my 75th birthday. I'll be back in Forks, Washington by the end of the month - and what happens next remains to be seen.<br />
<br />
But I do want to revisit Advent and Christmas at the monastery - and reflect on the process of my leaving there - before memory fades. It's looking carefully at what we love and fully appreciating it that makes our love grow to be "more strong," I think.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Advent - Preparing for Christmas</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcJHsFqxJ0o74dlMjGtAs9lxN5f8gk0pXGkArAh-G4QwU-eV1JGw_XAobKgtQL2fv0qN9IFeekOdt2vWpV8IYUt5mdlzejrkaTZDh4yz0dOaGgCahRmB86-r_4HAIU8XVQivAQwQ5ltw/s1600/DSC01971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcJHsFqxJ0o74dlMjGtAs9lxN5f8gk0pXGkArAh-G4QwU-eV1JGw_XAobKgtQL2fv0qN9IFeekOdt2vWpV8IYUt5mdlzejrkaTZDh4yz0dOaGgCahRmB86-r_4HAIU8XVQivAQwQ5ltw/s400/DSC01971.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I spent a lot of time thinking about how I wanted to express what I was feeling about Advent in dressing our little altar of reposition at the Girard House. The tabernacle is a beautiful wooden box. The candle screen, when used, is generally placed behind it. But I was still thinking of the phrase, <i><b>bright darkness</b>, </i>and I wanted the altar to express that. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Someone at the monastery protested, <i>but Jesus is hidden behind the candlelight!</i> My response was, <b><i>Yes! It is Advent: a time of pregnancy, </i></b>when the incarnation is still hidden from us , but the radiance of what is held in Mary's womb, in that living tabernacle, can be recognized, as it was by the child in Elizabeth's womb. The ivy and evergreens flanking the tabernacle behind the screen speak of the life within.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So during Advent, we awaited the bursting open of history that happened in the birth of the Christchild. I used the lines from Hopkin's poem, <i>"There lives the dearest freshness deep down things . . . " </i>in a card on the nearby shelf to remind myself and others of what is held in this bright darkness. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWCyeQVKJLHGrVrCQz0TL0v4fIojuyOtLqbVbeVc5pE26LDhvQWFNyDKFCyf6si6BaCpno0sAbtg6pOXazehFkXGUZyu98NPYDbKqqXxGPGg_UJV8Cf5jdICDgRxyQYahnIkobkejNwk/s1600/DSC01978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWCyeQVKJLHGrVrCQz0TL0v4fIojuyOtLqbVbeVc5pE26LDhvQWFNyDKFCyf6si6BaCpno0sAbtg6pOXazehFkXGUZyu98NPYDbKqqXxGPGg_UJV8Cf5jdICDgRxyQYahnIkobkejNwk/s320/DSC01978.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I visited the chapel frequently during Advent - I knew that the time of waiting was for me also a time of finishing up - of gathering together what I had been given in this time at the monastery. I knew that something new had been born in me that would need nurture and care in time to come. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Advent Events at Visitation Monastery</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There are a multitude of annual events at Visitation as the Sisters and the neighborhood prepare for Christmas. One of the most popular of these is the Christmas Store! Patrons of the monastery donate wonderful gifts - mostly new and unused gift items - appropriate for moms, dads, and grandparents. The children of the neighborhood get invitations to come and go Christmas shopping with Visitation helpers - a store where there are wonderful gifts and no cash-register at the check-out: everything is free. Parents are not allowed to accompany the children, because Christmas shopping requires privacy! Young adults from the neighborhood or Visitation Academy helped each child to find just the right gifts from those on display. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51O79FrY_eOLb-00Pxpb_7-0VAzkploxYA7ZRpx5v0fNZ7fhMLxhi7rfBvl-9RY5OPm0cGnJerCgDFtmtGU_bmJB16XQjFwFo4CTtKGkv6Um8VlFpXL7GiwV5OCVPiSCT21aOq_6V5qc/s1600/success!.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51O79FrY_eOLb-00Pxpb_7-0VAzkploxYA7ZRpx5v0fNZ7fhMLxhi7rfBvl-9RY5OPm0cGnJerCgDFtmtGU_bmJB16XQjFwFo4CTtKGkv6Um8VlFpXL7GiwV5OCVPiSCT21aOq_6V5qc/s320/success!.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little girl has just completed her shopping<br />
and she's delighted with her choices.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvCktoJftjGLlIt-0gBZf_-m4ie0wIuyYoMGA8jV6yN6eqAsm4J1NRVJaVu9EvOmjthXUuoR__1pqIA_Wx3RN6zqCCf6VpMmyCPZUFsspHPYEx_ioZP6kAsJeCUFaTloaxICNoqskLc8/s1600/wrapping.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvCktoJftjGLlIt-0gBZf_-m4ie0wIuyYoMGA8jV6yN6eqAsm4J1NRVJaVu9EvOmjthXUuoR__1pqIA_Wx3RN6zqCCf6VpMmyCPZUFsspHPYEx_ioZP6kAsJeCUFaTloaxICNoqskLc8/s320/wrapping.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After selecting gifts, helpers assist the children with <br />
wrapping them.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfTFNUE7MpwgFer-evIKL99-hm9BH1edk-44us2ULiwZM4m3UpjZ__DIMAMiDuA6Gtn48R-CuM2ZgqSjJSuMiPEvPqWm2DXEe0VguPMYfcM8hSMHpZHVBVNO8RYhMPsNTU6aIIKQqppk/s1600/headinghome.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfTFNUE7MpwgFer-evIKL99-hm9BH1edk-44us2ULiwZM4m3UpjZ__DIMAMiDuA6Gtn48R-CuM2ZgqSjJSuMiPEvPqWm2DXEe0VguPMYfcM8hSMHpZHVBVNO8RYhMPsNTU6aIIKQqppk/s320/headinghome.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy shoppers head home with their wrapped gifts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Another event at the monastery had to do with providing Christmas gifts for families in the neighborhood. Donations of toys, clothing, household goods, etc. were dropped off by friends of the monastery. Families had signed up not long after Thanksgiving, giving names and ages of their children. Helpers from the neighborhood and the suburbs came to help fill bags for each family. And what was left over was sent to other ministries in the neighborhood for further distribution</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZ6JyWwS0o5kU2CEbZj7UUL2s5BQAfsjFKlByliKbT00WGZej4yV8b9gMaFnD96el7O9YDUx_-F_VKC9069XJ3Ua5uAoV0crnz7c84NNnMoGSqW3Anv7419nE8zksIobo_CCWA7P3lwk/s1600/elves..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZ6JyWwS0o5kU2CEbZj7UUL2s5BQAfsjFKlByliKbT00WGZej4yV8b9gMaFnD96el7O9YDUx_-F_VKC9069XJ3Ua5uAoV0crnz7c84NNnMoGSqW3Anv7419nE8zksIobo_CCWA7P3lwk/s400/elves..JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CeHsMXAYqEuTjEdcOumO0Q6uUvR9yIIDnTCPVefX-8tVpvMHFJ-bCtS15KjlX2Txs1uz1xbpxpHxr2ymjD9l7EWh7g5WaGt39mxkd6PgY-7BQLDmYTehS4zFWOkPDrRzRdTlgslHQb0/s1600/carols.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CeHsMXAYqEuTjEdcOumO0Q6uUvR9yIIDnTCPVefX-8tVpvMHFJ-bCtS15KjlX2Txs1uz1xbpxpHxr2ymjD9l7EWh7g5WaGt39mxkd6PgY-7BQLDmYTehS4zFWOkPDrRzRdTlgslHQb0/s400/carols.JPG" width="400" /></a>A Santa party was held at the monastery for children of the neighborhood. The house was filled with children and moms and dads - and teenage helpers. Santa led some Christmas carols, and Sister Karen (helped by two tall elves in blue) read the story of the Nativity. Afterwards, each family was invited into the chapel for a little prayer service - and then the children met with Santa in the dining room where each received a Christmas stocking.<br />
<br />
It was a blessed evening. Such beautiful children and beautiful young adults.<br />
<br />
So much joy! So much loveliness.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsvnuzXr1hEFPaRaobA3lFr5-DvkmwMy1zTjWV8v4eutEUPjmG6LrvTWXUvaGR8h-371RHUPRQAOjNjiWzTJibV8Xq4wOYLV_7lyqo0xO2iR4b0kffrsCG4Fehn4V06y1PAEhkRsLA_I/s1600/santakids..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsvnuzXr1hEFPaRaobA3lFr5-DvkmwMy1zTjWV8v4eutEUPjmG6LrvTWXUvaGR8h-371RHUPRQAOjNjiWzTJibV8Xq4wOYLV_7lyqo0xO2iR4b0kffrsCG4Fehn4V06y1PAEhkRsLA_I/s400/santakids..JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And there was so much more in those four weeks to Christmas - two evenings where Visitation helpers took neighborhood children downtown on the bus to see Minneapolis's traditional "<a href="http://www.ci.minneapolis.mn.us/news/news_20071116holidazzleparade" target="_blank">Holidazzle Parade </a> and came back to the monastery afterward for hot chocolate and cookies! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There were quieter times like the evening when the Sisters all attended a penance service at the Basilica - and a trip to the Free Trade Market one Sunday after mass for a little Christmas shopping for me. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Somehow with all the activity, each time, when the event concluded, a quick clean-up followed, and peace, order, and quiet were quickly restored. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Living Salesian Spirituality</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was amazed at the quality of life and relationships within the house - between the Sisters themselves, the friends of the monastery, the neighbors, and all the folk who came asking for various kinds of help. This truly is a place of "rest and delight" - the words written on the wall of the first Visitation Monastery by founder St. Jane de Chantal some 400 years ago. And it has to do with living the simple, gentle teachings of St. Jane and St. Frances de Sales. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I spent the whole six months there studying and soaking up that way of living. It's basic Christianity, but presented in such an appealing and accessible manner. In my next blog, I will spend time trying to outline it for myself and for those who follow me here. For now, I will just say that it is that which has so captured my imagination and my heart. I have already left Minneapolis, but I will never leave that vision of how to live the Gospel. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I wondered how I would be able to bear leaving this place . . . but I find that the gentleness I have lived in has equipped me to "love that well" which I knew would be temporary. And I have been so well-loved here that I can take what has been given with me. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After Morning Prayer - every day - the Sisters meet in a little circle in the hall between the chapel and the living room. They bow to one another and say in unison,<b style="font-style: italic;"> God be praised! Good morning, dear Sisters! </b>And then the day begins.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So I say today from California: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>God be praised!</i></b></span> </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Thank you, dear Sisters, for sharing with me your charism of "living Jesus."</i></b> </span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Thank you for sharing your life with me these past six months. Thank you for teaching me your way of living Jesus.</i></b></span> </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I will never forget you.</span></i></b></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I will always try to share your Salesian spirituality with everyone I meet and to live it myself every day.</span></i></b></div>
</blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.shop.beestill.org/searchquick-submit.sc?keywords=One+heart+one+soul" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJ7ci8a5z-vwds8sKmMwd2h1iqqrgQojYwwMNY5vHNSgPaMs0UcMwdOyu7VANsnpmHUkA-tbgqLpTLoFnyYC6eHtEP8pEX5haOftjJ0majC_oHL3CZCdr8hrKFNuqG1yDczj4O_H_xpE/s400/MMHOS150.jpg" width="308" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.shop.beestill.org/searchquick-submit.sc?keywords=One+heart+one+soul" target="_blank">St. Frances de Sales and St. Jane de Chantal by artist Brother Mickey McGrath. Click on the image to go to Bee Still Studio where his art is displayed. </a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<br />
<br />Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-65180192948625517152012-12-11T20:23:00.000-08:002012-12-16T13:01:12.564-08:00Bright Darkness<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000020;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br /><table align="CENTER" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="font-style: normal;"><tbody>
<tr><td><i>THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="1"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="2"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="3"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="4"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;</i></td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="5"><i> </i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="6"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="7"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="8"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>And for all this, nature is never spent;</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="9"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;</i></td><td align="RIGHT" valign="TOP"></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>And though the last lights off the black West went</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="11"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="12"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i>Because the Holy Ghost over the bent</i></td><td><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="13"></a></i></td></tr>
<tr><td><i> World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.</i></td><td><br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3028105884016535556" name="14"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: right;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Gerard Manley Hopkins</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></i><br />
<br />
It's winter now in North Minneapolis, in the New Highlands neighborhood where I am living with the Visitation Sisters. It started snowing night before last and we had 16 inches before morning. The snow was fine and powdery - very dry compared to the soggy wet snow we sometimes have out in the Olympic Rain Forest where I have lived for nearly 40 years. The snow is here to stay for a while. It's deep and beautiful and, on the roadways, lies over several inches of ice. Traffic is at a near standstill, I'm told, out on the main roads. It takes 2 hours to go what usually takes a half hour.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkpC80yf-tIq4KyjK90ZIM9YL3ZDUnjC3CIVA3vkv4NUE3gPXRxowKox8aqaQ8gDOVa-3K8JJ_xKycFsTs5pgRpfToXWqpsYhzWT1L6zaOFxtK3-wyFsOBbGTMB-G5azzgge8y6hHKWs/s1600/Sonny.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkpC80yf-tIq4KyjK90ZIM9YL3ZDUnjC3CIVA3vkv4NUE3gPXRxowKox8aqaQ8gDOVa-3K8JJ_xKycFsTs5pgRpfToXWqpsYhzWT1L6zaOFxtK3-wyFsOBbGTMB-G5azzgge8y6hHKWs/s200/Sonny.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this picture of Sunny last<br />
summer when the grass was green<br />
and growing fast. He tries to time<br />
work so as to not interfere with our<br />
prayer times in the Monastery. But<br />
this week, he had the walks and drive-<br />
ways cleared before we left Girard for<br />
Fremont at 6:30 in the morning. I<br />
was told that he arrived to do that<br />
about 5 AM.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We have a neighbor here - Sonny, they call him. He shows up with his shovel and snow-blower early in the morning every time it snows. The rest of the year, he mows the lawn and helps with the gardening. He's been doing it for several years. A long time ago, he was having some real difficulties in his life. He did some hard work to get his life in order, and when he had done that, he came to the Sisters and told them that, because they had "been there" for his family in the years when he couldn't be, he'd be the one to take care of lawn mowing, yard work, and snow removal from that time on - or, in his words, until he was no longer able to crawl to get there. So he does this labor of love year in and year out.<br />
<br />
Sister Mary Frances took a look out the front door, saw our walkway from the house to the sidewalk, the sidewalk, and the driveway all cleared, yesterday morning, and exclaimed, <i><b>"Words made flesh!"</b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It is Advent.</span></b> We are all preparing for the coming of the Lord--on so many levels.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The Visitation Sisters of the Federation - a group of Visitation Monasteries in the U.S. which have a "familial relationship" with one another - in a mission statement issued recently spoke of moving ahead into the future in <b><i>"bright darkness." </i></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Advent<b> </b>is the beginning of the Church's liturgical year and liturgy is mportant at Visitation Monastery! The Advent materials come out of storage. It's been traditional here to use blue - the color of Mary - for Advent. In the new mass Source Book, published this year, we read, <i>"Blue is forbidden for Advent in the United States. The only approved color is violet."</i><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SY6NtZhaByZxbI4UCIDx-YghoiPL6cjXJUG_jJa69CErUCgNuqiKnGPjdmcIhfBBtouIcXaMZgu5SWjjxF2EsPervbRlHx3fLxQJqfsdiz-SO79OH4qWflB0tp-LG2lHnjWr2g29qWk/s1600/Basilicasnow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SY6NtZhaByZxbI4UCIDx-YghoiPL6cjXJUG_jJa69CErUCgNuqiKnGPjdmcIhfBBtouIcXaMZgu5SWjjxF2EsPervbRlHx3fLxQJqfsdiz-SO79OH4qWflB0tp-LG2lHnjWr2g29qWk/s200/Basilicasnow.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">I noticed at the Sunday mass at the </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Basilica </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">last weekend, </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">the Rector of the Basilica was robed </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">in gorgeous blue, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">with matching </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">banners </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">and ante-pendium on the altar. </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Ascension used a combination of purples </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">and blues. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">We used the materials that were </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">on hand. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Forbidding blue seems a strange </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">priority to me, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">living in this place.</span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Something</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">like straining at gnats </span></div>
<div style="font: 16.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">and swallowing camels.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Well!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Our "main chapel" is at Fremont House, but we use the one at Girard House where I am living frequently for Night Prayers (Compline). Today because of the very heavy snow, we had Morning Prayer and a communion service separately in the two houses because it would have been so difficult to dig out cars and driveways in time for the 7 AM service. So four of us in each house, in the two chapels, greeted the day with the familiar chant, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>"Open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise."</i></span><br />
<br />
I have come to love the rhythm of monastic prayer. The cadences of the familiar words of the psalms - the whole "package" repeated every four weeks - takes on new meaning every time I hear and sing them. Psalms were meant for singing, but I've never experienced them in that way before. Every time we chant them, I hear something new I'd missed before.<br />
<br />
That expression, <b><i>"bright darkness"</i></b> has stayed with me the past couple of weeks as we prepared for and begun our observance of Advent, and it has been mentioned many times in our shared reflections during the Divine Office.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FJvOmjUn34rvvJar1koIl2b9wHd01x3DYNemwktX77CrkQmYgQwYBS0xOxYzIlpt9L-dCxY6rDlSvtu6M0f_0BCZoUk_sUqzLlD_j1lzAg52Ji1QPRqDjN3MDyrVnonuf7KCMcFsWzs/s1600/DSC01980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FJvOmjUn34rvvJar1koIl2b9wHd01x3DYNemwktX77CrkQmYgQwYBS0xOxYzIlpt9L-dCxY6rDlSvtu6M0f_0BCZoUk_sUqzLlD_j1lzAg52Ji1QPRqDjN3MDyrVnonuf7KCMcFsWzs/s320/DSC01980.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
The quilted antependium reminds me of</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
the ocean, with breakers rolling in.</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
The candle screen functions as a veil for</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
the tabernacle and the evergreen and ivy</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
flank it are symbols of eternal life.</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
I was attempting to create that sense of</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
"bright darkness." The statue of Mary at the</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
is one of the "treasures" of this monastery.</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
It is very old, they say, and was left to</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
the Sisters as a legacy by one of their</div>
<div style="font: 14.0px Times; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;">
long-time friends here.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I had it in mind when I decorated the chapel here in Girard House where I am living (one of my "charges" is caring for this chapel).<br />
<br />
Marian devotion is an important part of the spirituality of the Sisters, since their very name draws from the story of the Annunciation. After the Angel Gabriel had made his announcement - and Mary had given her YES, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth, who was then 6 months pregnant with her son, John, known to us as "the Baptizer." The love and mutuality between Elizabeth and Mary has always been a central to Visitation spirituality. The hospitality underlying it is the life source of the Sisters presence here at Visitation Monastery.<br />
<br />
The people who come to our door for help - the people who come to share with us in helping them - the life of the Sisters poured out generously in this place - all speak to me of <b><i>bright darkness. </i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMeyplj7RC7Hpq_cc_fMiM3TiFZdBicC8KEIQ1aU3UPvfbFOzwGoBaET798cp-007YnWpt_iMx0LkVMuXKKIuyGOdFJp3pmaxhhNHxaCcBbS3iIHuuikoKsZmDjPWWHidnDWkJcphPqk/s1600/FremontSnow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMeyplj7RC7Hpq_cc_fMiM3TiFZdBicC8KEIQ1aU3UPvfbFOzwGoBaET798cp-007YnWpt_iMx0LkVMuXKKIuyGOdFJp3pmaxhhNHxaCcBbS3iIHuuikoKsZmDjPWWHidnDWkJcphPqk/s200/FremontSnow.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 14px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The bus stop is across the street </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
from our house, visible from the </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
side window of our chapel. If it </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
looks cold in daylight here, </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
imagine it at 10 PM. </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last night, on the way home from praying office here at Girard, we saw a family - a woman pushing a baby stroller - holding the hand of a toddler - and a man following at some distance behind them. It was nearly 10 PM and it was very cold. The woman was having trouble getting the stroller on and off the sidewalk while crossing the street. The Sisters asked if she was OK, if she needed help. She said they were on their way to a homeless shelter and were almost to the bus stop. As the Sisters pulled in the driveway, the bus pulled up and the family got on.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I look out the window in our Fremont chapel through the translucent stained-glass window and see snow piled high on shrubs and tree branches and rooftops - see the buses and vehicles passing by - sometimes the flashing lights of a police car - and it's all <b><i>bright darkness.</i></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
On the first Sunday of Advent, in Father Michael shared a story from the publication <i>Give Us This Day</i>, which our community and many others use as a reference for the daily mass and office readings <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(I recommend it, by the way, as better than other similar resources I've used in the past - see www.giveusthisday.org for information on obtaining it.)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
So the story was not original to Father Michael - nor to me here in this blog.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
"For Jack's 10th birthday, the family went out to eat at his favorite restaurant. It was a Chinese place where Jack always ordered extra - so that he could enjoy the leftovers for days. After dinner, Mom, Dad, Jack, and a friend that Jack had brought along were walking out to the car. A homeless man stopped them and asked for a couple of bucks. Unprompted, Jack offered the man the Styrofoam container he was carrying, full of his precious leftovers. </div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Jack's mom was, of course, touched by this act of generosity. As she followed the boys into the parking lot, she overheard the friend say to Jack, "Wow, man. That was cool. I bet that sure made God proud." Jack said to his friend, "Maybe that <i>was</i> God."</div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Don't know whether Jack and his family had been directly touched by the teachings of St. Frances de Sales, but Jack's question exemplifies Salesian spirituality. And it exemplifies what the Visitation charism means: to LIVE JESUS - to be Jesus to others, to see Jesus in the other.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I have come to that awareness in doing "door ministry" here. When the doorbell rings, I love going to answer the door. And I <b><i>do</i></b> see Jesus every day. I have a new respect for people who live in continuous poverty - who, when they are lucky enough to find work, they then have to figure out how to get there and back every day - and how to stretch the little they make to cover the basic necessities. They come with simple requests -</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><br /></i><i>Sister, </i><i>I get paid on Friday, but </i><i>I need a couple of bus tokens to get to work and back tomorrow. </i>If we have the tokens, we are able to give them (no more than two in a month). How do people working for minimum wage afford to get to their jobs at $3.50 a day? Owning a car is not an option for most people who come to us for help. For those who do, the request might be for help filling up the tank - or, yesterday, a request for a ride to the DMV to get new tags. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
And yet, when I ask, <i>How are you today? </i>I almost always hear, <i>"I'm blessed, Sister!"</i> or, "<i>I'm sucking air, Sister, and I'm grateful to be alive," </i>in one case recently. And when they leave, sometimes carrying a sandwich with them, their thank-you's almost always also include, <i>"Have a blessed day, Sister!"</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><br /></i>There is great dignity in homeless people. They sleep in a shelter at night, but must leave during the day. They go about the business of survival, finding the resources they need to make it to the next day: a meal at a soup kitchen, a place to get indoors and stay warm (this is one of the hardest things to find), a thrift store where they can buy a pair of boots or shoes, mittens, a sweatshirt to layer under a thin jacket, a token to get on the bus . . . </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Often after the practical, material need is met with a token or a grocery store $10 gift card, I'll sense a further need. <i>Is there anything else I can do for you? </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><br /></i><i>Could you say a prayer with me, Sister? </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
So I find myself, standing on the freezing front porch - or in the entry hall - joining hands with a stranger whose needs I cannot begin to comprehend.<br />
<br />
This is the sort of prayer I'm likely to pray:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>God, it's cold out there today and it's hard to be needing so many things that are out of reach. Help us to get through this day, knowing that even when it's hard, You walk with us. Give this brother/sister what they need to get through today. But also give them the gift of Hope, the gift of Courage to keep going and to believe that even when You don't solve all our problems, you continue to love and support us. Save us all from discouragement and despair. Help us remember, Jesus, that you, too, were homeless - you said that the Son of Man had no place to lay his head. Help these dear people to have a good life in spite of all their troubles. Help us to help each other through these hard times.</i></blockquote>
</div>
At the end of his homily last Sunday, Father Michael spoke eloquently of our being God's beloved children, of how we need to learn to cast away the shame of our imperfection, and celebrate the goodness for which we were made. He spoke softly, persuasively, gently - and he began singing to us, singing like a father sings a lullaby to a baby - no accompaniment - just his voice floating out to the people there . . .<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,<br />Calling for you and for me;<br />See, on the portals He’s waiting and watching,<br />Watching for you and for me.</i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i> Come home, come home,<br /> You who are weary, come home;<br /> Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,<br /> Calling, O sinner, come home!</i></blockquote>
Tonight the Sisters and I went to the Basilica to a Taize Service of Reconciliation - beautiful music - a repetitive sort of chant - as background. Lighted candles which we placed in sand buckets at the foot of a large icon of the crucified Christ. And one at a time we were able to get up and go to one of 8 priests located at the periphery of the room to make confession, to make ourselves ready for the birth of the Savior.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHD3ADNMlWoAGjfiyJIYmm83uLrbrwLrQnJKw8m36TWyr6AYt754Ej5PewQirJ5Ke2nPZmL3dDIhyphenhyphenm8-0e95sphd4VdOCWxUV0uQTd8jCrH08DHOoyXVOf8VSCvq6HtTPbaYshuq_oIrk/s1600/DSC01996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHD3ADNMlWoAGjfiyJIYmm83uLrbrwLrQnJKw8m36TWyr6AYt754Ej5PewQirJ5Ke2nPZmL3dDIhyphenhyphenm8-0e95sphd4VdOCWxUV0uQTd8jCrH08DHOoyXVOf8VSCvq6HtTPbaYshuq_oIrk/s320/DSC01996.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basilica Taize Prayer Service - Click on image to<br />
hear a recording of the song.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Laudate omnes gentes, laudate Dominum.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Sing praises, all you people, sing praises to the Lord.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We live in a terrible mystery of goodness and awfulness - </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and it's the most beautiful sort of life I've ever known. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Truly, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><b>there lives the dearest freshness deep down things.</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Bright Darkness!</span></i></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-71801120599721989292012-11-23T21:16:00.002-08:002012-11-25T09:39:19.172-08:00A Place of Delight and Rest<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>All are Welcome in </b></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>this Place</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj200Jm9ObA3QC05NgNFI4fnIDuugCdHJxvAtm19mvwba3nTx3iqKeu_TxZB_xkzWkAbwxBzPMVPJu8D566aw0b64zTl0Qi5hSo7ZDHvLnnzwFYZvyD8TbZAy18ktleqFlUycBsN0hxI14/s1600/DSC01246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj200Jm9ObA3QC05NgNFI4fnIDuugCdHJxvAtm19mvwba3nTx3iqKeu_TxZB_xkzWkAbwxBzPMVPJu8D566aw0b64zTl0Qi5hSo7ZDHvLnnzwFYZvyD8TbZAy18ktleqFlUycBsN0hxI14/s320/DSC01246.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="http://youtu.be/mAZC65CwTEA" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPurpZriEqBlRNOmpexgmDLG-sm9mTsFFT6nIlCc-gqvmm7LP9xPj3Q2GcDa4SLzGHZSKfcsQSvPvjl_juRMS2upHpbciv2lUlDay7Ac76EJGVgxGdM4_ld-p7J0LgugbtuO1zOVhWX0/s1600/colormusic.gif" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHtLH82_4l9MVHvdzPd47fLx61PPChUDY-bVvwun9dK4aSnsF6RYPa6EDH1J3YW0FdLOcR90bRDS_sz_f_hU_D_4jjusGlg3tXn9GbdikHd4MBwLXPQOy9u_qtbzbcpn4xFICpKL1Ego/s1600/2012-07-25_08-10-13_179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHtLH82_4l9MVHvdzPd47fLx61PPChUDY-bVvwun9dK4aSnsF6RYPa6EDH1J3YW0FdLOcR90bRDS_sz_f_hU_D_4jjusGlg3tXn9GbdikHd4MBwLXPQOy9u_qtbzbcpn4xFICpKL1Ego/s200/2012-07-25_08-10-13_179.jpg" width="112" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Click on the image above to hear the song.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us build a house where love can dwell</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And all can safely live.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A place where saints and children tell</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">How hearts learn to forgive.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Built of hopes and dreams and visions,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Rock of faith and vault of grace;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Here's the love of Christ shall end divisions:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> Ref: All are welcome, all are welcome, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome in this place.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAv87ctjmpH98chrjG9F9bJFXwuPWySuw8cA7b8wG6vwep2Wtq5RYoAJap1R1wItVlrSpVSE1GMjaSnhkaQhM-rwQ21UxE3mgz2h_JqlkmqnmFS7Gf5YmlZ5Qf-uFqgpgDrHAY6CqvZE/s1600/8053909094_4fdb8e10cd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAv87ctjmpH98chrjG9F9bJFXwuPWySuw8cA7b8wG6vwep2Wtq5RYoAJap1R1wItVlrSpVSE1GMjaSnhkaQhM-rwQ21UxE3mgz2h_JqlkmqnmFS7Gf5YmlZ5Qf-uFqgpgDrHAY6CqvZE/s200/8053909094_4fdb8e10cd.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us build a house where prophets speak,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And words are strong and true,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Where all God's children dare to seek</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">To dream God's reign anew.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Here the cross shall stand as witness</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And as symbol of God's grace;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Here as one we claim the faith of Jesus:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> Ref: All are welcome, all are welcome, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome in this place.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHvahgafnDPZApDmLu8Og33z02M2eB6opDVj7_lkT1isFsoNRwDT1-JMnOkBoG3OnBa1EQ6Mg_umaylxm4Q_C3_lkxHxziBIFKZPBmVHHzWGmtgiFyFUOyHP_X9Diq4ozjnMUXLSgDEs/s1600/DSC01873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHvahgafnDPZApDmLu8Og33z02M2eB6opDVj7_lkT1isFsoNRwDT1-JMnOkBoG3OnBa1EQ6Mg_umaylxm4Q_C3_lkxHxziBIFKZPBmVHHzWGmtgiFyFUOyHP_X9Diq4ozjnMUXLSgDEs/s200/DSC01873.JPG" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us build a house where love is found</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">In water, wine and wheat:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A banquet hall on holy ground,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Were peace and justice meet.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Here the love of God, through Jesus,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Is revealed in time and space;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">As we share in Christ the feast that frees us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> Ref: All are welcome, all are welcome, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome in this place.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBSoDTTqeEFNYv-qvaYnIDQzZbfynYEefUa_G3vJ3BaP7br_0Jho4NlYf5acPFa44pStLkrnYfvC2nNwPrDejvQrfiM4fMUubaLXvQ_nfr1kKtVdd__ezzre03lZSyNu3TGxvLWl6SpQ/s1600/DSC01908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBSoDTTqeEFNYv-qvaYnIDQzZbfynYEefUa_G3vJ3BaP7br_0Jho4NlYf5acPFa44pStLkrnYfvC2nNwPrDejvQrfiM4fMUubaLXvQ_nfr1kKtVdd__ezzre03lZSyNu3TGxvLWl6SpQ/s200/DSC01908.JPG" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us build a house where hands will reach </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Beyond the wood and stone</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">To heal and strengthen, serve and teach.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And live the word they've known.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Here the outcast and the stranger</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Ber the image of God's face;</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us bring an end to fear and danger:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> Ref: All are welcome, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome in this place.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let us build a house where all are named,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglu9IsudmGMdHxdgvmGGveco_pj-NNNHo5lCzM2Krp-y2mAU2wrkRwZ811uEhz-vtakJyedsha5keCBP1IxipJAj_RMJf7KxHN9cPv9LUuJ66WUJX8K2V-JAIlrxaxRrVyfmeYXzLOvt4/s1600/DSC01880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglu9IsudmGMdHxdgvmGGveco_pj-NNNHo5lCzM2Krp-y2mAU2wrkRwZ811uEhz-vtakJyedsha5keCBP1IxipJAj_RMJf7KxHN9cPv9LUuJ66WUJX8K2V-JAIlrxaxRrVyfmeYXzLOvt4/s200/DSC01880.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I baptize you in the name of . . . "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Their songs and visions heard</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And loved and treasured, taught and claimed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">As words within the the Word.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Built of tears and cries and laughter,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Prayers of faith and songs of grace.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Let this house proclaim from floor to rafter:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> Ref: All are welcome, all are welcome, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">all are welcome in this place.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Text: Marty Haugen, ©1950</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
In my now 5 months of living with the Sisters of Visitation Monastery in Minneapolis, the one thing that has impressed me more than anything else is the fact that in this place truly all are welcome. All kinds of people come here: priests, professionals, and homeless people. Families who have comfortable lives. Families who live in great deprivation. All are treated, not only with respect, but as incarnations of Jesus. It is humbling to live in such a way. I remember hearing that "God is no respecter of persons," when I was a child, and being told that that meant God loves everybody the same. And I would have thought myself an inclusive and accepting person until I came here. I know better now. I have made distinctions between persons without even realizing it. And I have been afraid of people who were very different from me. Being here is changing me. I have a long way to go to get to the place where I would like to be. But I realize again that I want to be like the Visitation Sisters of N. Minneapolis. I wouldn't have known that if I hadn't come here for their "monastic immersion experience."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
- - </div>
<br />
Last Saturday there was a baptism at the monastery - a relative of one of the Sisters.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_KmU4kYGg6bDDXDk3r53Y4x5Nu2Pg_OE95XYbXRkvWpORE3l5X3AJJ3ZVUyAUQIzXd3jp-NtK5Fk_Qwv_t-TbkSir0tCw5mur8Jd_VjpSLBjXdUvcYxk-3ihoa79EDtbJ9gdiVAFxFXc/s1600/DSC01884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_KmU4kYGg6bDDXDk3r53Y4x5Nu2Pg_OE95XYbXRkvWpORE3l5X3AJJ3ZVUyAUQIzXd3jp-NtK5Fk_Qwv_t-TbkSir0tCw5mur8Jd_VjpSLBjXdUvcYxk-3ihoa79EDtbJ9gdiVAFxFXc/s320/DSC01884.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fr. Michael anointing the baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghMaBKZzCF6eEgb4c2wqOZTVFwV-ToRMfAR8lhoCXynhXndFgM9FpC0L9I8iNCkYXwc0tyWr8hyphenhyphenhXLtJx-B99V0X94BFd6i4_kGBcX80A1Ssga3Llia4RTzMJuHv5IZxXLdpenr0AZ20/s1600/DSC01903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghMaBKZzCF6eEgb4c2wqOZTVFwV-ToRMfAR8lhoCXynhXndFgM9FpC0L9I8iNCkYXwc0tyWr8hyphenhyphenhXLtJx-B99V0X94BFd6i4_kGBcX80A1Ssga3Llia4RTzMJuHv5IZxXLdpenr0AZ20/s320/DSC01903.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A neighbor coming in to see and greet the baby and parents.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And while the reception was going on, one of the neighbors dropped by and was introduced. The Sisters speak of these occasions as "bridging." I loved seeing the parallels in these two images - of the priest bending over the baby to anoint her - and the neighbor bending in almost identical posture to gesture to the baby as parents were opening gifts.</div>
<br />
Thanksgiving week has been quite a busy time! Every day has had so much going on! Turkey Tuesday, for instance, when friends from out at Mendota Heights at the Visitation Academy there arrived with huge cardboard boxes the size of laundry baskets, filled with food - enough for 150 families! And each box of food came with a turkey and a pan to bake it in. A team of neighbors had made up maps showing where the 150 families lived: a group of Vis girls and a couple of the neighbors would pile into a car with all the fixings for 3 or 4 Thanksgiving dinners and head out to deliver them. A prayer card was placed in each basket - so when the girls and their helpers arrived, they were ready for a visit with the family and they all shared a prayer together. In between assignments, they'd come into the house for hot apple cider and a couple of cookies, pick up the next set of addresses and head out again! It was something to see!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCZIUBSvy3TSubkTm82weYegBIo1I4lcu4LFtcCnzCp0764y9F8DG-Gxrg0WU3RdfTl16K0Oox-jIvjO-mq8rPdXTUAPAZ6FA4tgr69d8SA09_VLoaAsgpZdnoyy09X539bdi9Lgj228/s1600/DSC01910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipCZIUBSvy3TSubkTm82weYegBIo1I4lcu4LFtcCnzCp0764y9F8DG-Gxrg0WU3RdfTl16K0Oox-jIvjO-mq8rPdXTUAPAZ6FA4tgr69d8SA09_VLoaAsgpZdnoyy09X539bdi9Lgj228/s200/DSC01910.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what it looked like<br />
when they were more than<br />
half done!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_922Fgpw4dx4XeBgHTjL4ludrr2R8vAjqNLSS01wW54F-ald0X-Q_TQDTt-l3bBlnByb8BG_glwTOOaM0qoJ3nYI7AJek_aDp8wuYaDZlZrAD8GLQqDCEHqoOSTBXDXgbDjEPiwWJ9s/s1600/DSC01911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_922Fgpw4dx4XeBgHTjL4ludrr2R8vAjqNLSS01wW54F-ald0X-Q_TQDTt-l3bBlnByb8BG_glwTOOaM0qoJ3nYI7AJek_aDp8wuYaDZlZrAD8GLQqDCEHqoOSTBXDXgbDjEPiwWJ9s/s200/DSC01911.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our VIP Anna was one of the<br />
workers on Turkey Tuesday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SuJTu8emd-y0B-tLjPx3ER-o5bSlcIkhc6lL_DAFKjbN53psjb9Ye5oEeciLd7q4JSoc0h_b5U5HMUXMif4OFaw6e0Eojfkd7ldevwi82tHhDItn3P9Y0mrT1PaXlFZJPz3W7EFkCqY/s1600/DSC01913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SuJTu8emd-y0B-tLjPx3ER-o5bSlcIkhc6lL_DAFKjbN53psjb9Ye5oEeciLd7q4JSoc0h_b5U5HMUXMif4OFaw6e0Eojfkd7ldevwi82tHhDItn3P9Y0mrT1PaXlFZJPz3W7EFkCqY/s320/DSC01913.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chapel set up for Morning Prayer the<br />
day of Renewal of Vows. That's the<br />
Constitution containing their "rule" at the<br />
base of the cruciform Christ.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwoT2OgoiyIh3DaghgBp7c7Wb6PHQ96eAAsYEKo-0XS_O-8KtgHmLMzp5GGRntBhTJzzDY1rDfrUdjzAdQiXaruONBG_CS2j8SwDJmRSRo3fGkWwKxfHyttsaCwQJxdUEYdu3oGIK-uk/s1600/TG.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwoT2OgoiyIh3DaghgBp7c7Wb6PHQ96eAAsYEKo-0XS_O-8KtgHmLMzp5GGRntBhTJzzDY1rDfrUdjzAdQiXaruONBG_CS2j8SwDJmRSRo3fGkWwKxfHyttsaCwQJxdUEYdu3oGIK-uk/s200/TG.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting set up for Thanksgiving<br />
morning mass.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Thanksgiving morning there was Morning Prayer, followed by another mass - this time relatives of some of the Sisters and Anna's family joined us - and another brunch to follow. And then an open house at Girard for another Sister's family. And then Evening Prayer followed by Thanksgiving Dinner at 5 PM - we had 14 places set.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6uR_u6J2d_AN1slsIWUxFT_YYz_PpamcyU6OzP15_kCS3ME6Ocp7kfVB8bfDkiB5e9LV-6LSWSLywMTgtzi3VOoZwiN9k0CfZuQvvyROnQR4O28sc4HL0R29VmM3wq6sk8qKhrzfHlI/s1600/DSC01927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6uR_u6J2d_AN1slsIWUxFT_YYz_PpamcyU6OzP15_kCS3ME6Ocp7kfVB8bfDkiB5e9LV-6LSWSLywMTgtzi3VOoZwiN9k0CfZuQvvyROnQR4O28sc4HL0R29VmM3wq6sk8qKhrzfHlI/s320/DSC01927.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lingering over dessert.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Whew! These Sisters have stamina - and hospitality is at the heart of their life.</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<b>St. Jane de Chantal wrote on the wall of the first Visitation Monastery, </b><br />
<i><b>this is a place of delight and rest . .</b> . </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">and it's true! </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">It's a place of delight and rest for the heart, </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">no matter how hard you work at it.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>All are welcome . . . in this place!</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Be sure to read the <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/?page_id=151" target="_blank">Visitation Monastery blog</a>!</i></div>
</div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-47336764568718760072012-10-28T19:50:00.003-07:002012-11-01T09:36:28.994-07:00Angels and Imps - Hope and Courage in North Minneapolis<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fall has come to North Minneapolis - no question about it now. The trees are almost stripped, it's cold (29 degrees F. Saturday morning. Sister Mary Virginia and I couldn't thaw the windshield, so had to walk to Fremont for morning prayer! And just as cold today. There are patches of blue sky, but more that's sort of a leaden grey.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Grass is yellow-brown, the skies are mostly grey or white. The thermometer's dropping. Most of the leaves are off the trees - a lacy pattern left, but every breeze sends down another cascade of yellow and brown leaves.</span></div>
<div>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7r3uMOViGzLeYc5zW6tST2GnCy7Dak0dlzw5Uzcc8EFjWYtsDksSeYqG5vUCIwSlytxemCe7KyJsgf7eUsqcntnRRt1H3ti846m2_N4VjI5sPFEZloOe_vSBr6ZnUfgmde_786AHSPq8/s1600/DSC01727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7r3uMOViGzLeYc5zW6tST2GnCy7Dak0dlzw5Uzcc8EFjWYtsDksSeYqG5vUCIwSlytxemCe7KyJsgf7eUsqcntnRRt1H3ti846m2_N4VjI5sPFEZloOe_vSBr6ZnUfgmde_786AHSPq8/s400/DSC01727.JPG" width="400" /></span></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On the "cloister walk" from Fremont (1/2 block), across the street, </span></span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">turn the corner,</span></span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and another half block down to Gerard House.</span></span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kids are wearing sweaters, puffy jackets, and woolen hats. The young men now have jackets or hoodies over their white T-shirts, and tend not to just hang out in the alley for hours at a time. Everybody is busy going somewhere to get warm and dry.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKg6R9puX6KfUh__Dc3ihwQXLULsdmKXuLEVN_HHZVqCD7AmXk8hNGDEAOGkdocM0VczkxkOL8Yr1V8_24c3DdRTxqrzU3LJw5G8o2zmBxb4mUpF77GCJe3Y2ajWLD80KNfK2i4HJtfk/s1600/DSC01758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKg6R9puX6KfUh__Dc3ihwQXLULsdmKXuLEVN_HHZVqCD7AmXk8hNGDEAOGkdocM0VczkxkOL8Yr1V8_24c3DdRTxqrzU3LJw5G8o2zmBxb4mUpF77GCJe3Y2ajWLD80KNfK2i4HJtfk/s320/DSC01758.JPG" width="320" /></span></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The garden at Fremont has been put to bed for the winter.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A whole group of friends from Edina came with yards of potting</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">soil, rotillers, and expertise to help with it.</span></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReRDBAuy7QRCNtVmVeK3p6Yzgb2WVjBhi-6qXvXBOxKp4fYECCBY423fBFfSaMjC3Q6l6_IQhLq1yG0737rm7FOhXuXiOa6aLMYuLt2kONnu0DXK01hfjicmnMU_2VqSnUD18KxUFcKg/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgReRDBAuy7QRCNtVmVeK3p6Yzgb2WVjBhi-6qXvXBOxKp4fYECCBY423fBFfSaMjC3Q6l6_IQhLq1yG0737rm7FOhXuXiOa6aLMYuLt2kONnu0DXK01hfjicmnMU_2VqSnUD18KxUFcKg/s1600/images.jpeg" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Angels in North Minneapolis </span></b></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
I heard a story yesterday from the "Chronicles of Visitation Monastery." (The Sisters have so many wonderful stories! I love hearing them!)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
One time, early on in their life here in N. Minneapolis a workman was coming regularly to the house to accomplish some bit of restoration on their house.He was living at a half-way house in the neighborhood. The Sisters were asked by those running the agency (which is called Turning Point) to pray for their clients, and, in exchange, they were told, they'd come and do whatever they could do to help. So this workman was a Turning Point guy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
As he worked, he listened to the sounds of chant coming from the chapel where the Sisters were praying the Divine Office. He went home to Turning Point and told his friends there,</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"There are ANGELS living in that house! I HEARD them."</span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> They pooh-poohed his claims.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
The next day as he was leaving the property, he saw a curled white feather on the sidewalk! He picked it up and ran all the way back home! He burst through the door, saying, </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I told you there are angels living there! And now I have PROOF!"</span></b></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
I think he was right - they don't look like the angels on Christmas cards, but there are lots of people in the neighborhood who think they are angels.</span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So much happens here: </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I watch and listen and pay attention. In the living room, I hear one sister with a woman who is weeping over the death of her mother. In the kitchen someone is telling a sister there about her husband who fell at work and broke his wrist. He has no insurance, and he was working under the table, because he's undocumented. They didn't come to ask for money. They came to ask for prayer. And they came to ask one of the sisters to go with their daughter to apply for the new "deportation deferment" that has been offered to young people who were brought here illegally when they were young.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
I sat out on the front porch with two men who had come hoping for a grocery store card. They are staying at night at a shelter, but they had no food for the day. We were out of cards, but they were hungry. So I raided the refrigerator and pantry. I found four slices of rather stale bread left from the day before, and made a couple ham sandwiches with mayo and mustard and a piece of lettuce. I poured a couple cups of coffee left from breakfast and warmed them up in the microwave. I copied down the address and times when meals are served for the homeless at Loaves and Fishes, a ministry run out of a local protestant church. Then I grabbed a couple prayer cards that we keep on the shelf by the door. The card has a saying of St. Francis de Sales, one of the two founders of The Visitation of Holy Mary. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
It says,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<ul>
<li><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Do not look forward to what might happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. Either He will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it"</span></i></li>
</ul>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Then I took the sandwiches and prayer cards out onto the sunporch where the men were waiting. We sat and talked. I gave them the prayer cards, and we prayed the prayer. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
I told them,</span><br />
<ul>
<li><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your needs are huge. We can't do very much to help you. But we do what we can. These Sisters have nothing of their own. Other people support them with their donations - and we share what we are given. We get so many grocery cards a month, and when they are gone, they're gone. </span></i></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But think about it. You were hungry. Now you are eating your sandwich, and you know where you can get a hot meal later today. I can't promise you that you won't be hungry tomorrow. I hope you won't, but maybe you'll just have to rely on that gift of unfailing strength. When you are down and discouraged, read that card and pray that prayer - and know that you'll either find help or you will find strength to go on.</span></i></li>
</ul>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We held hands and prayed together that they would not lose hope, that they would find the answers to their needs.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
They were very quiet for a few moments - then they both said, </span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you, Sister!</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> (I gave up trying to explain that I'm not really a Sister. It's not important.) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
One man put the card carefully into his jacket pocket and said, </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm going to take this and read it to someone I know who needs to hear this.</span></b></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Then they went on their way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiictvWBeBVUSsFRPcrSrjbXtRZbDtEDe2VvSBgFUjHvJPQsrigmEPYKVzkVs-FKXihoKCcErrbkqn08VTvvY-xEERhGVB4YIhwh8XZNo9ipFQNgzNPWwwjR_1U5hnuJWKJZGPD1B4KYeI/s1600/writit1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiictvWBeBVUSsFRPcrSrjbXtRZbDtEDe2VvSBgFUjHvJPQsrigmEPYKVzkVs-FKXihoKCcErrbkqn08VTvvY-xEERhGVB4YIhwh8XZNo9ipFQNgzNPWwwjR_1U5hnuJWKJZGPD1B4KYeI/s1600/writit1.gif" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shortly afterward a friend of the Sisters came by to ask me to help her review her paper she was turning in the next day in her college class. She's recently returned to college to try to qualify for a better job.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Most days things are pretty ordinary - people to come to pray or to ask for help, offer help, or to show off a new baby or introduce a new husband or wife or girlfriend.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
An old friend of the Sisters came to mass yesterday. The sisters have known her for 20 years. She's a woman who has suffered much, but she is an overcomer. She has been in jail and she has been homeless. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
In mass we were discussing the gospel of the day: the theme had been Hope. She told us how she had learned to appreciate what she had. When she hits a wall and is told No, she says, she says THANK YOU! because she knows when that door shuts, another will open. That's HOPE!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
She told us what it meant to her some years ago to get moved into a motel room after being homeless - the luxury of having a stove and a refrigerator!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
She has managed to raise her children in that kind of life-style to be successful adults. The three oldest are in college and are doing well.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
She says she tells them, "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You gotta PRAY!" </span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
They say, "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Momma, we DO pray!"</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
She says, "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No, you got to get down on your knees! You got to fold your hands and speak right into your hands because that's GOD'S EAR!" </span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
When she is asked how she's doing, she always answers, "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am BLESSED and HIGHLY FAVORED!" </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today she said, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I'm blessed to have a birthday! I'm blessed to be ABOVE the GROUND!" </span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
There is a custom here for one of the sisters to bake her a cake on her birthday. This year, when she called to say her birthday was coming up, she asked for just a "cracker and a candle." But Sr. Karen baked her some cupcakes and they had a little party together over at Girard, just the two of them, before time for our mass at Fremont. Then she joined us for the liturgy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From Angels to Halloween Imps!</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's the "regular stuff" that goes on every day. Some days are even more special. Once about 20 years ago a couple brought their little girl to visit the monastery in N. Minneapolis. Afterwards, she told her parents she didn't want any more parties. She had everything she wanted. She wanted her parties to be for kids who didn't have parties. So her mother, Vicki, has been giving 4 parties a year in her honor (that little girl is long grown up!). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Vicky arrived last Saturday morning with a van loaded with party supplies, games, prizes, treats and enough Halloween costumes for about 75 children. About 60 kids came for games, treats, and a great selection of Halloween costumes. Some of the moms were bringing their children to an event that had been an important part of their own childhoods.</span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HALLOWEEN PARTY AT VISITATION MONASTERY </span></b></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYIgXILNiI3kJ_w8HETIi2S0G-ljL-aluSHC6rczxGHp9IQMLXxdMfWbzDl4iMYkTqjv0NP01QJ_X6gZAc_1FtbbEtbpU0OKbfX2r_FI6DawNo6TAJZUEa9Xg63-gcIJm5yuSl7MAkNo/s1600/DSC01752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYIgXILNiI3kJ_w8HETIi2S0G-ljL-aluSHC6rczxGHp9IQMLXxdMfWbzDl4iMYkTqjv0NP01QJ_X6gZAc_1FtbbEtbpU0OKbfX2r_FI6DawNo6TAJZUEa9Xg63-gcIJm5yuSl7MAkNo/s320/DSC01752.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Folks are arriving for the Halloween party at Fremont.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgng00DL14oTO3oF5BArftMUdTGwjUQA54rEnmDAlzeCIHMTh_2xV-9Wr-m4cBOdPMd9eWRgmD3eLyFUQSBglvAiNsnU-vsXXcB_SLXv6aqZtmjBcUMnJ8lZHxv4wtVEbohjy7PF-SFUL8/s1600/DSC01753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgng00DL14oTO3oF5BArftMUdTGwjUQA54rEnmDAlzeCIHMTh_2xV-9Wr-m4cBOdPMd9eWRgmD3eLyFUQSBglvAiNsnU-vsXXcB_SLXv6aqZtmjBcUMnJ8lZHxv4wtVEbohjy7PF-SFUL8/s320/DSC01753.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A neighbor lends his paved car park area for our use. Those are </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the costumes donated for the neighborhood children.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That's Girard house in the background across the street.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicydfqazPuCbx-2vz81nZLCfdcrCiUJWaRg30bAiTT9g6tJirgbYRVdw17arnJqKCNarUebnYlQymAfEiGVyCWJpV09pg0mHuB7Ht0WyqLpKoqOIU-5Kg284exoVLZSelLZ5d7jL5XqWs/s1600/DSC01776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicydfqazPuCbx-2vz81nZLCfdcrCiUJWaRg30bAiTT9g6tJirgbYRVdw17arnJqKCNarUebnYlQymAfEiGVyCWJpV09pg0mHuB7Ht0WyqLpKoqOIU-5Kg284exoVLZSelLZ5d7jL5XqWs/s320/DSC01776.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everyone needs to register and make sure</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">names are on the invitation list.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeUFmW9usSucHeKaYT9219jOfsOCqhiH4uSdGaL84hAkwXQA0Qe7ekQdsTzag0kILOxLgPMTuPRf7BFqiWCW_TGutb6pThHQHDX1euCIS8QOBKntb5l7WTR1M0cU6xGjCiO-aHEVfHpI/s1600/DSC01779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeUFmW9usSucHeKaYT9219jOfsOCqhiH4uSdGaL84hAkwXQA0Qe7ekQdsTzag0kILOxLgPMTuPRf7BFqiWCW_TGutb6pThHQHDX1euCIS8QOBKntb5l7WTR1M0cU6xGjCiO-aHEVfHpI/s320/DSC01779.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Games are played on the sidewalks, yards, and alleys.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-Oe-GdD1s7GHRR_FS_TlSI3qnOg6nCF2rm9-Nwv9JHiSxIl1af3VIHt17Bee7KcCdTAhmldSg5mAyuyIbvXoAg3O_Fb9K0P1V4aeZo8l9cqNyR9Y34aT7Sgiq9bYx75aPXm4evmX5XQ/s1600/DSC01780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-Oe-GdD1s7GHRR_FS_TlSI3qnOg6nCF2rm9-Nwv9JHiSxIl1af3VIHt17Bee7KcCdTAhmldSg5mAyuyIbvXoAg3O_Fb9K0P1V4aeZo8l9cqNyR9Y34aT7Sgiq9bYx75aPXm4evmX5XQ/s320/DSC01780.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Intent competitors are under supervision of teen volunteers.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wcIbLCb64BUoaqBBCt2TOalE7m17ZVQ2CzsL_8xaa1KEL9k-TftxHWkZJFB8znn8_Mby9eXUnPybvKxVz0qX5llbYGLgh0yXOrra7LiQoEDMQmbn9DiJ_umAmnyJZVGQNvuWP4Sc5y4/s1600/DSC01785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wcIbLCb64BUoaqBBCt2TOalE7m17ZVQ2CzsL_8xaa1KEL9k-TftxHWkZJFB8znn8_Mby9eXUnPybvKxVz0qX5llbYGLgh0yXOrra7LiQoEDMQmbn9DiJ_umAmnyJZVGQNvuWP4Sc5y4/s320/DSC01785.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sr.Karen greets one of the moms from the neighborhood.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cQakIZiHKAJSe_P6u8Kp1MQm5iJNQxzxPFZs8k7d1OcrDQ4u12s3b6PQRhgyfgERwydRUWOEdhkTdp4Lg2U2sUMuzGn6fQICCdgIH-6KO9pjIq6U6S07ql9cjLrjD_-hqur3gw9b0Yk/s1600/DSC01792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cQakIZiHKAJSe_P6u8Kp1MQm5iJNQxzxPFZs8k7d1OcrDQ4u12s3b6PQRhgyfgERwydRUWOEdhkTdp4Lg2U2sUMuzGn6fQICCdgIH-6KO9pjIq6U6S07ql9cjLrjD_-hqur3gw9b0Yk/s320/DSC01792.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here we are in the backyard of Fremont House.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKhrO6JX0Y44m0Pkvq8H67BGVsDzBKG7NHWvv57wQzZGLlRk-_x95XOx9Ma3wOA7oSsrRcrffobJuuOwil_7ooLVUS6jAVuG1DmjPDWSkZitoNIwY9xNFOEQT_0TzqTNJ089WDk3gohg/s1600/DSC01810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKhrO6JX0Y44m0Pkvq8H67BGVsDzBKG7NHWvv57wQzZGLlRk-_x95XOx9Ma3wOA7oSsrRcrffobJuuOwil_7ooLVUS6jAVuG1DmjPDWSkZitoNIwY9xNFOEQT_0TzqTNJ089WDk3gohg/s320/DSC01810.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And competition continues on the sidewalk below.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfG1sezXqtxp2xAcG3xZBjya7Hqekm2W65TuY2i4czwlnbZxrsp4q9KjwMS-r5mqCNdl8UkYdsxXwhcMu5za31JRji0baHmheaEyQRRXzl8lEaTc5hM8hVwRTbp5vSHNUAh185PN0fYg/s1600/DSC01818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfG1sezXqtxp2xAcG3xZBjya7Hqekm2W65TuY2i4czwlnbZxrsp4q9KjwMS-r5mqCNdl8UkYdsxXwhcMu5za31JRji0baHmheaEyQRRXzl8lEaTc5hM8hVwRTbp5vSHNUAh185PN0fYg/s320/DSC01818.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There's a line-up for this one - but I can't see what they are playing!</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzTHo0o7xEBdYeU1ubSYkanxpxtgI_cNb0tNRLbSydBzUmEWpPC7rZ1VogHk-_LSqoXPxWsqSNrfQI9CppGGUrlIfneCBJkMpNb8MTpdVcKm0UoiUQIN8NQZjvZ0HODhuRvYeeQZ8Ycw/s1600/DSC01821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzTHo0o7xEBdYeU1ubSYkanxpxtgI_cNb0tNRLbSydBzUmEWpPC7rZ1VogHk-_LSqoXPxWsqSNrfQI9CppGGUrlIfneCBJkMpNb8MTpdVcKm0UoiUQIN8NQZjvZ0HODhuRvYeeQZ8Ycw/s320/DSC01821.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here's a basketball game in Bob and Sherrie's backyard.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN58x7hv2vw10b3h0a72PAtDaOgu4EoNXKuA4XJADDCoLeRW7OxO0QQXDoyoNy_i03KUPe4ECKMELACP0LdTUle-j127iZypKOZ-xHJULKedpXxo3Ln63_upWEOHiIkqsmQ2yzr80-Dtc/s1600/DSC01828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN58x7hv2vw10b3h0a72PAtDaOgu4EoNXKuA4XJADDCoLeRW7OxO0QQXDoyoNy_i03KUPe4ECKMELACP0LdTUle-j127iZypKOZ-xHJULKedpXxo3Ln63_upWEOHiIkqsmQ2yzr80-Dtc/s320/DSC01828.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sr. Suzanne facilitates the registration with the help of Miss Linda.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSKjHWFrc9eiWqjosQLcGSAh1g1qL-hH-ysWUI_XBAPWD-9x6hkZpfKGWbAMmY4mU3PRz9qeBSz9hzd9Etm5pHNeY5oIibSf3outO91q-mFx2o1DA2hIVmXn4lNbsDsKTDPjf5eqri_Q/s1600/DSC01836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSKjHWFrc9eiWqjosQLcGSAh1g1qL-hH-ysWUI_XBAPWD-9x6hkZpfKGWbAMmY4mU3PRz9qeBSz9hzd9Etm5pHNeY5oIibSf3outO91q-mFx2o1DA2hIVmXn4lNbsDsKTDPjf5eqri_Q/s320/DSC01836.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This child is telling Sr. Karen, "Oh, I hope I get that costume!" </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">had time to look them over during the games, but must wait for</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> their names to be called to actually claim the costume.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighNCxymAuvLkBz6PKGhgeLOhG-X6uoNB5JiP6DHZbmJYaC9mkhCzzFtRdDM5DPQdsR3ostgb6xr_LzUbCaMtmvsZtPJc6BQ_Lx7Ex30mjVi_5c_nIk37eqvpiblmuWm6SCyw6LM06se0/s1600/DSC01838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighNCxymAuvLkBz6PKGhgeLOhG-X6uoNB5JiP6DHZbmJYaC9mkhCzzFtRdDM5DPQdsR3ostgb6xr_LzUbCaMtmvsZtPJc6BQ_Lx7Ex30mjVi_5c_nIk37eqvpiblmuWm6SCyw6LM06se0/s320/DSC01838.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And then you get to show your friends!</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzcmcTxABoYvrwsaShSfWwK3vahYYh3kbNLSZA3vQh3676-CHUw6IJgl78fEl4uk5Zh5OREXQqmRIWeN1wqLzTyGZjjiniref_2VQEmGCWagH_s5IIxRRlV2eACQbbJra07yP3pzHed4/s1600/DSC01839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzcmcTxABoYvrwsaShSfWwK3vahYYh3kbNLSZA3vQh3676-CHUw6IJgl78fEl4uk5Zh5OREXQqmRIWeN1wqLzTyGZjjiniref_2VQEmGCWagH_s5IIxRRlV2eACQbbJra07yP3pzHed4/s320/DSC01839.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzhoIPHPCAW6YqdC-Z1iCKNP_nSL9qEFWly08d5DLPwzXExa-jfS63TX0dyRPzRVv_1SQLXMbtLuaTc9THuDRCHroazGBFfiL-M-ERsvP7mrn-5oVCiouYA1e9Trh85sXSZqogaIW3Wk/s1600/DSC01847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzhoIPHPCAW6YqdC-Z1iCKNP_nSL9qEFWly08d5DLPwzXExa-jfS63TX0dyRPzRVv_1SQLXMbtLuaTc9THuDRCHroazGBFfiL-M-ERsvP7mrn-5oVCiouYA1e9Trh85sXSZqogaIW3Wk/s320/DSC01847.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One Mom looked at her son's choice - striped suit for a jailbird, and said,</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Now that's what I always wanted to see you in!" </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it was the one he had picked out, so off they went.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZEGKC2icVfAn8-RKkDuuKodmHI8butgQs3qg_bgAEjIT_cf16HhZJSFDx5eoPNpEJ2NveROAXY0t_f4zY0KVJDSdv8NdlOnLS5enFDSdJZJ0xgdqP2r9_67vP_X6H_z8rJA1rOkVvhA/s1600/DSC01848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZEGKC2icVfAn8-RKkDuuKodmHI8butgQs3qg_bgAEjIT_cf16HhZJSFDx5eoPNpEJ2NveROAXY0t_f4zY0KVJDSdv8NdlOnLS5enFDSdJZJ0xgdqP2r9_67vP_X6H_z8rJA1rOkVvhA/s320/DSC01848.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sr. Karen and a dear friend of many years from the neighborhood.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFNjzbK85cvR2wroEKz9TSlo1fXrkgysxYgxNqLUllInGbg_ANsqYMz9O89HTKkMFZCDox1-_iK3JMRKUJkfdz-l5_1hucg9JBKaehwZt4pb0-EnVamy4Zq-asL8EXAYA9tBu5CcDbe4/s1600/DSC01849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFNjzbK85cvR2wroEKz9TSlo1fXrkgysxYgxNqLUllInGbg_ANsqYMz9O89HTKkMFZCDox1-_iK3JMRKUJkfdz-l5_1hucg9JBKaehwZt4pb0-EnVamy4Zq-asL8EXAYA9tBu5CcDbe4/s320/DSC01849.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Moms and Dads are appointed caretakers for those precious</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">costumes while their owners are picking out sodas and treats at the end of the party.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VTdeMS52CW89wUtkbce8oUFoWZ4mxuWsHnyabaIt1PloSlvJv0eIQRSsEf9MA4WLfe3oEopaBcv1CX24g5Ctsq3Xstufe_Ub0S1oc-zOX_QReUj0TbFpB0Z1JQFhrom0v3QeKWqZ7LM/s1600/DSC01850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VTdeMS52CW89wUtkbce8oUFoWZ4mxuWsHnyabaIt1PloSlvJv0eIQRSsEf9MA4WLfe3oEopaBcv1CX24g5Ctsq3Xstufe_Ub0S1oc-zOX_QReUj0TbFpB0Z1JQFhrom0v3QeKWqZ7LM/s320/DSC01850.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lots and lots of kids! And the little girl on the far left</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">did get the coveted costume</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5kV6skYaP4jwISe-eqLgPbjErplx6duHTTH3sYjcxpLRckL8aMn0-mbrh3UD24xxu8-w8Xn0AEuAvQ3t1_se6STZ6l_vjQVux97U_-LxAdTzzERM-zhcvUbMGb0-ptubcGlpf3DVzT0/s1600/DSC01854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5kV6skYaP4jwISe-eqLgPbjErplx6duHTTH3sYjcxpLRckL8aMn0-mbrh3UD24xxu8-w8Xn0AEuAvQ3t1_se6STZ6l_vjQVux97U_-LxAdTzzERM-zhcvUbMGb0-ptubcGlpf3DVzT0/s320/DSC01854.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Marcus, one of the teen volunteers, and one of my favorite</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">new friends, helps Sister Suzanne check off the list.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPI2vyzk9PxVp7FfmQlj9xuOhBiC8zKraSudM7fs0zlrBAzjAnZwSZ8p4KL1ZwbMeQV96y8v_vqE3ESH5lK2Tajc-vTrcbp7VNwva7IUt_SDvUoc1bROH29Dvdr0ijOs6ceA5k_vNzaI/s1600/DSC01855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPI2vyzk9PxVp7FfmQlj9xuOhBiC8zKraSudM7fs0zlrBAzjAnZwSZ8p4KL1ZwbMeQV96y8v_vqE3ESH5lK2Tajc-vTrcbp7VNwva7IUt_SDvUoc1bROH29Dvdr0ijOs6ceA5k_vNzaI/s320/DSC01855.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There's good fellowship going on as the party concludes.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></span><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b><div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There were 20-25 costumes left over. The children in the neighborhood who didn't get signed up in time to be part of the party were invited to come over and find a costume for themselves. Within the next two or three days they were all gone. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sometimes it was a parent who came. One woman walked more than a mile to ask if there were any left in her children's sizes. She didn't bring the children with her. She said she didn't want to raise their hopes and see them disappointed. I would never have guessed that providing a little girl with a princess costume or a small boy with a pirate outfit could be part of ministry, but when you are struggling to avoid eviction because you can't pay the rent and your food-stamps don't carry you through the month, a little treat like that for your children helps make life less grim.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sunday morning finds us back at church - Ascension for most of us this weekend. Sometimes some of the sisters like to go earlier to the Basilica.</span></span></div>
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOVT8zlPjsERiqFCUSH9hn9T9Oq1ogqtO4k2ff7dFWej2pq4MODIVlcBiYG02B2dLxvciqjsAbOQsMuP8NGgTvhXQIEkxmYFFH-dMgklY8gVazSdHy5txjwl79tySwgQYq5isVeXcic0/s1600/MUSICMINISTRY.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOVT8zlPjsERiqFCUSH9hn9T9Oq1ogqtO4k2ff7dFWej2pq4MODIVlcBiYG02B2dLxvciqjsAbOQsMuP8NGgTvhXQIEkxmYFFH-dMgklY8gVazSdHy5txjwl79tySwgQYq5isVeXcic0/s320/MUSICMINISTRY.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Bx-mSZSgqIcws5InEvteWnrq3d-tO6VCTBRRNBwMR7tP6Dpu14fVo6HB0hW78CuX02dJ00qTsduxQR9N66bgUKzNMmng5kDkO0jLLpgJTOOS89eFknNmX3QUi9u6Px0HEAGxZHizuyI/s1600/DSC01499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Bx-mSZSgqIcws5InEvteWnrq3d-tO6VCTBRRNBwMR7tP6Dpu14fVo6HB0hW78CuX02dJ00qTsduxQR9N66bgUKzNMmng5kDkO0jLLpgJTOOS89eFknNmX3QUi9u6Px0HEAGxZHizuyI/s320/DSC01499.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sister Mary Virginia and Sister Mary Mao shared the pew with me. The music is lively, the preaching is wonderful, and I know lots of people now. The gospel this Sunday had to do with the healing of blind Bartimaeus. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Mark 10:46-52) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
There are lots of kinds of blindness. I think my eyes are being opened to a whole new way of seeing the world, a whole new way of living the gospel.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
I've been here for four months now. </span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a beautiful way to live! </span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Monastic Immersion Experience suits me!!</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Have you ever thought of "trying on" religious life to see if it might be right for you?</span></i></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
</div>
</div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-46949168714201628952012-10-22T19:29:00.000-07:002012-10-25T08:26:49.323-07:00Meeting Jesus at Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis - in Eucharist, in scripture, and in his people<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSf4R6WAulBqsz7s6qCDgcdQKccIi1hulmlbFMekZSj5Kfo_n4V7hiQ6Am-FD1QlavXM4YK_Fh6mYzixrQNOn-rtFQN8_YXwkw88qn6Kpo_ewDfUrqg3DQw__gijOYOLlPOYhsGr4keVM/s1600/8053905793_ae656169db.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSf4R6WAulBqsz7s6qCDgcdQKccIi1hulmlbFMekZSj5Kfo_n4V7hiQ6Am-FD1QlavXM4YK_Fh6mYzixrQNOn-rtFQN8_YXwkw88qn6Kpo_ewDfUrqg3DQw__gijOYOLlPOYhsGr4keVM/s320/8053905793_ae656169db.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vignette captured as we prepared for mass <br />
in our living room the other day.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">These words from a David Hass hymn speak to me</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">of the life we share here.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">W<i>e come to share our story,</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>we come to break the bread,</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>we come to know our rising</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>from the dead . . . </i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>We are called to heal the broken</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>to be hope for the poor,</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>we are called to feed the hungry </i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>at our door.</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>You will lead and we will follow</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>you will be the breath of life</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>living water, we are thirsting </i></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>for your light.</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojL4tsiO87yeoa5b03ovjQEDHxlvQpmLpjmM1_WOWuJ4PhM8bpRAWFQKVnyHRSbgGAKdC8rc-usuZzd_uKXsygaYnC5BwVYOQb3tbiDmAZOXImFlljNRUvHFpm_rjIl7m1WRwD7tQM-I/s1600/DSC01653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojL4tsiO87yeoa5b03ovjQEDHxlvQpmLpjmM1_WOWuJ4PhM8bpRAWFQKVnyHRSbgGAKdC8rc-usuZzd_uKXsygaYnC5BwVYOQb3tbiDmAZOXImFlljNRUvHFpm_rjIl7m1WRwD7tQM-I/s200/DSC01653.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The living room at Girard<br />
house is ready for mass.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Eucharist: the "source and summit" of our lives -</b><br />
Eucharist is the very center of life at Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis. We have mass at the house at least three times a week. On other days - and on Sundays - we go out to one of several nearby parishes.<br />
<br />
On Saturday mornings we have a Communion Service. So every day is centered around the Eucharist.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The Blessed Sacrament is reserved in the chapel in each of the two houses. We pray the Divine Office in one of these chapels four times every day - and as each sister enters, she makes a profound bow to the Real Presence in the reserved Sacrament in the tabernacle. On Sundays and other major feast days, incense is burned during the office - and all present are blessed with that incense.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PTpvga2qcVFCeuBTbFKpMBQUFmUTX0MDzpijK3d4yGicy_hJrdsLiJDF4SFR34Ukl7E67UpQgdpKBb_UOS3QAsqRByjnb5qGXXgpaznGpCuORP5PZRUs_37UbDQ2fzdC9sXnp6WzDgQ/s1600/535508_401054273245548_2080284038_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PTpvga2qcVFCeuBTbFKpMBQUFmUTX0MDzpijK3d4yGicy_hJrdsLiJDF4SFR34Ukl7E67UpQgdpKBb_UOS3QAsqRByjnb5qGXXgpaznGpCuORP5PZRUs_37UbDQ2fzdC9sXnp6WzDgQ/s200/535508_401054273245548_2080284038_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The slightly larger chapel<br />
at Fremont decorated for last Easter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhFBjItwownnvmjsEBsZ4vndCkHqnp8DyaAB921xiLjdhicvGV0_di9hk0gZe4ryC9WoGKy3N7499_j430V-fCCvVYLWWYS02u9w9UWvkonDB_MSv2c_gIyiF59uP9UJ5EIQZ5StQGno/s1600/DSC00900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhFBjItwownnvmjsEBsZ4vndCkHqnp8DyaAB921xiLjdhicvGV0_di9hk0gZe4ryC9WoGKy3N7499_j430V-fCCvVYLWWYS02u9w9UWvkonDB_MSv2c_gIyiF59uP9UJ5EIQZ5StQGno/s200/DSC00900.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The small chapel at Girard.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Holy Mass: our central act of worship as Catholics.</b></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH9LbT42Gp9VMx0PiHWZV75Heddv-TtJPsd_J9yuNMLJK8lmTlMeXuvuxvhCKBwIPg1MAb7NZTbcymAuquNXWoXLgvaJ89di5ifSNXtOMsooRVe6y7FJ-tPuGmsrwPVw3lLRqo6I474I/s1600/DSC01505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH9LbT42Gp9VMx0PiHWZV75Heddv-TtJPsd_J9yuNMLJK8lmTlMeXuvuxvhCKBwIPg1MAb7NZTbcymAuquNXWoXLgvaJ89di5ifSNXtOMsooRVe6y7FJ-tPuGmsrwPVw3lLRqo6I474I/s200/DSC01505.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Father Michael O'Connell<br />
at Ascension Church one Sunday<br />
morning recently.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the liturgy, we experience the Real Presence of Christ in three ways: in the Word of God (the Holy Scriptures), in the assembly present, and in the Eucharist.<br />
<br />
The priest says the words of institution, and holds up first the consecrated host, and then the chalice. We each acknowledge the central belief of Catholics: that bread and wine have become, in fact and faith, the body and blood of the crucified Christ." We pray, <i>"Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed."</i><br />
<br />
All prayer services and liturgies are open to our neighbors and friends. Before we begin, one of the Sisters puts this sign on the front and back doors: <i>The Sisters are at prayer now. If you would like to join us, please ring the doorbell.</i> And they do - neighbors and people in search of help, friends and patrons - all are welcomed into the worshipping circle.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNxpk6YzW0PbVsZGjYd_IDhGOa7QMJm_4jhOtZQirpk4Zf_xrkAwfVCErFEIH3Bo8o6Wo2blLlygyoEOer-1KbSSQ0_bqelh_MOs38vhnHISjgBmkggVl9_eTfD2oaO_-xq4QsRoGjlo/s1600/66099_10151239852382628_1044744892_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNxpk6YzW0PbVsZGjYd_IDhGOa7QMJm_4jhOtZQirpk4Zf_xrkAwfVCErFEIH3Bo8o6Wo2blLlygyoEOer-1KbSSQ0_bqelh_MOs38vhnHISjgBmkggVl9_eTfD2oaO_-xq4QsRoGjlo/s200/66099_10151239852382628_1044744892_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blessed Sacrament displayed in the Monstrance<br />
at the Fremont Chapel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On First Fridays we have Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament - where the consecrated host is placed into a small monstrance and displayed while we pray in silence before Christ present in the Sacrament. Neighbors and friends join us here, also.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>We meet Christ in our daily work and ministry as well as in the liturgy.</b><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTH3rava1gOIHGyhxmJO2fl88inAn1wh4NTvkV-b8LXaDJ_hpoxh5vc8n0RlGGxVEc8DysN8QWrF0XE7z7cXO8F4oZtRL4WtJRw9IzSUVtRp6zVGXhD4cdv9d3Zlri95tsaI_nHsxodcM/s1600/DSC00958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTH3rava1gOIHGyhxmJO2fl88inAn1wh4NTvkV-b8LXaDJ_hpoxh5vc8n0RlGGxVEc8DysN8QWrF0XE7z7cXO8F4oZtRL4WtJRw9IzSUVtRp6zVGXhD4cdv9d3Zlri95tsaI_nHsxodcM/s200/DSC00958.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neighborhood Ice Cream party<br />
at Girard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Outside of the chapel, as the work of the day proceeds, I see a deep courtesy, mutual love and respect in the interactions of the Sisters with one another - they treat each other with the same reverence given to the Real Presence in the Eucharist. That's because they recognize and honor Christ in one another.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyNp6LJcBYyse4HKvw-496Tdv9Fv4VYBj5qqzesuqzT0MovqBy0BCHBUer80RUftJpJwBjwciVZUwtNuRensXRFZlKGtH4DGsrWMJlZ1ut3VUovtJuK0eKALdhuELmd8DwFauhtlr1pQ/s1600/DSC00724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyNp6LJcBYyse4HKvw-496Tdv9Fv4VYBj5qqzesuqzT0MovqBy0BCHBUer80RUftJpJwBjwciVZUwtNuRensXRFZlKGtH4DGsrWMJlZ1ut3VUovtJuK0eKALdhuELmd8DwFauhtlr1pQ/s200/DSC00724.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This young woman grew up in the<br />
Windsock ministry - the Sisters<br />
would hang up a windsock at a<br />
given time in the afternoon, and<br />
all the children would come to play<br />
with toys and games. She stopped by<br />
to show the Sisters her new baby.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When visitors come to the door, they also are greeted with that same reverence and respect; the Sisters - and I - go to meet Christ on the doorstep, go to be Christ to that person. Jesus said that as we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, meet the needs of even the least of his brothers and sisters, we do it for Him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So at Visitation Monastery one meets Jesus in one guise or another all day long - Christ lives in and among us. The Kingdom of Heaven is present to us.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJeJF-NCBjEiVk7CatBtUg5YqIQjLwZx5ayhhPsqwYRfnKdwBTQMLBBEudC5rYM151W0oiJesaHaESz-8wQTBRv3Ye57iKjmiYdQwUIl-fhhl_w7sB-5aXK3aRFPn9Fq_LMNSeFkPf4k/s1600/DSC01902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJeJF-NCBjEiVk7CatBtUg5YqIQjLwZx5ayhhPsqwYRfnKdwBTQMLBBEudC5rYM151W0oiJesaHaESz-8wQTBRv3Ye57iKjmiYdQwUIl-fhhl_w7sB-5aXK3aRFPn9Fq_LMNSeFkPf4k/s200/DSC01902.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Praying with people who came looking for some help.<br />
Sometimes all we can do is pray together. This<br />
was one of those times.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That is at the core of my life here in the "monastic immersion experience," at Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis. I am living Eucharist intensely and intentionally - all day. Every day. Every day I meet Jesus in the sacrament, in the Word, and in his people.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>I told the Sisters the other day, it seems to me, that this is the very threshold of Heaven.</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>I do love the life here! What an adventure!</i></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-51684710161993030652012-10-09T14:13:00.005-07:002012-10-10T03:48:41.245-07:00Life and Death in North Minneapolis with Visitation Sisters and their Friends<br />
<br />
I went to a funeral on a Saturday in mid-September, a funeral for a little baby who lived only one hour. His name was Xavier-Jean.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Xavi-Jean was the son of Melissa and Francois, dear friends of the Visitation Sisters. They shared their journey with us through this difficult pregnancy and the joy and sorrow of parenting a baby they knew would not live to grow up. They learned mid-way through the pregnancy that the baby had very serious challenges, only a 5% chance to be born alive, and no chance to live more than a brief time. He lived for exactly one hour.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
There's a lot in the news about what it means to be pro-life or pro-choice -- all the political squabbling about the degree to which government has an interest in interfering with these things. That all became so unimportant as we shared with Melissa and Francois their process of decision-making.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbPOMwcN0y0thGVleEhUbNaynI4m3QhMvLn-7VQlA-MAHudImYzr2cm8-auWI7w35aB-tbwMpWADp7gL09TkyJnnkKXOEOXS-K5_TI9uyjARb1O84VQk7nCV96gUE4I8BjGH1SoPInPk/s1600/DSC01392.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbPOMwcN0y0thGVleEhUbNaynI4m3QhMvLn-7VQlA-MAHudImYzr2cm8-auWI7w35aB-tbwMpWADp7gL09TkyJnnkKXOEOXS-K5_TI9uyjARb1O84VQk7nCV96gUE4I8BjGH1SoPInPk/s320/DSC01392.jpg" width="320" /></a>They were fortunate to have found expert, wonderful counseling for parents who are faced with this sort of challenge. They decided to parent this child, love him to the fullest extent for as long as he lived. He grew and kicked and wriggled and had numerous ultra-sound pictures taken along the way. They chose a name for him. They planned his birth at the same time as they planned his funeral. Xavi's two older sisters, Gabby, 12, and Maggie, 2 patted their mother's belly and listened to what was happening within her. They knew their little brother would be here only briefly, though one can only guess what that means to a two-year old. Melissa remained radiant even in her deep grief.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
It was terrible and awesome to see.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The whole community here - the sisters, the Visitation Companions (their lay associates), the parish community of Ascension Church, and Melissa's wonderful group of women friends (four of whom also functioned as doulas) gathered around them to support them.</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZUDWy3axcVxy7OxcYA-oPw5sYOtEYPcpDGekSEDNoMI6Ulg7gjvi5brTNxnEEC_Ukwo6wCeQnhLzXRxhz7fczGpiBDc_9L3qhJ2ddge_GWFcd910HHJK6aYv2N2F6wUVEOow_7Bqgqc/s1600/DSC00873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZUDWy3axcVxy7OxcYA-oPw5sYOtEYPcpDGekSEDNoMI6Ulg7gjvi5brTNxnEEC_Ukwo6wCeQnhLzXRxhz7fczGpiBDc_9L3qhJ2ddge_GWFcd910HHJK6aYv2N2F6wUVEOow_7Bqgqc/s320/DSC00873.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the day the whole church moved out to the garden to share as Father Michael anointed Melissa, Francois, and their children as they dealt with the news that the baby she was carrying was seriously compromised.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The longer that birth could be delayed, the greater chance for him to be born alive, and that became an overriding consideration. He got to about 7 months, when it became necessary to deliver him by caesarean section.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2fd0UOHPJOXNxBWtf6E9JzQuvLgJFyJ_b5irevKq9S23lM5JWgGqC44w_X6tF6fH5vbfFXJ_q_Gfol6kyqO0CygSHf99t_z39E7FrVOXI3AbabWA2yTZ5NQYJYDlrNBbQw0cqO3Mr6c/s1600/Holding+Xavi+September+13%252C+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2fd0UOHPJOXNxBWtf6E9JzQuvLgJFyJ_b5irevKq9S23lM5JWgGqC44w_X6tF6fH5vbfFXJ_q_Gfol6kyqO0CygSHf99t_z39E7FrVOXI3AbabWA2yTZ5NQYJYDlrNBbQw0cqO3Mr6c/s400/Holding+Xavi+September+13%252C+2012.jpg" width="400" /></a>We got the word that the surgery was set for early morning. Sister Mary Margaret and Brian Mogren (director of St. Jane House, our spirituality center) had been asked to stand by in readiness to baptize him.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfxuvZHhKgFo7lvZ5sTpEHwZvBr1HQEzhaZa27tOpyU43ZqOR3S1IcMlXwUAJLi4K88jDDkymkCK_iyK18_B_zuh_qBXN-mnsszkMXe1quoFOGLlk3KI9FnklZ2UIQu7m_P-cBmPoaJg/s1600/IMG_4402.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfxuvZHhKgFo7lvZ5sTpEHwZvBr1HQEzhaZa27tOpyU43ZqOR3S1IcMlXwUAJLi4K88jDDkymkCK_iyK18_B_zuh_qBXN-mnsszkMXe1quoFOGLlk3KI9FnklZ2UIQu7m_P-cBmPoaJg/s320/IMG_4402.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
Baby Xavi was born alive at 8:03 AM on Thursday, Sept. 13. He lived exactly one hour and died at 9:03 AM. In that hour, he was baptized and anointed priest, prophet, and king. He was held in tender love by his parents and sisters, godparents, and friends . . . he was loved and cherished every moment of his existence.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rFIi-kZhjxdBDUxDpsjZJosReMLLYovqXkZCbRbIUdgWXHR99DKXRIMf4FfUYIU1cEPlH4OcpTqVyrNbfJ43Bxd473tLYW7BwBQ8yXcVp53kW_DG8Edrt8Gs4b-S182_7UQY_kjH5-k/s1600/Smiling+with+XaviIMG_4787.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5rFIi-kZhjxdBDUxDpsjZJosReMLLYovqXkZCbRbIUdgWXHR99DKXRIMf4FfUYIU1cEPlH4OcpTqVyrNbfJ43Bxd473tLYW7BwBQ8yXcVp53kW_DG8Edrt8Gs4b-S182_7UQY_kjH5-k/s320/Smiling+with+XaviIMG_4787.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHP3q9mQ2vJ_gsh7iaKzxLEjOx52aTuImxbm4eu7X3a80qTdZYCSwYqqX4S2Dp89sfahUwHghIF9mrOJ8wZfqSKCyNteDBFXYw2obuFd4V2pZRvnruni8Zsmqq9SclFdoxRbpeZAffXw/s1600/Cmmty.+laughing.+iMG_4416.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHP3q9mQ2vJ_gsh7iaKzxLEjOx52aTuImxbm4eu7X3a80qTdZYCSwYqqX4S2Dp89sfahUwHghIF9mrOJ8wZfqSKCyNteDBFXYw2obuFd4V2pZRvnruni8Zsmqq9SclFdoxRbpeZAffXw/s320/Cmmty.+laughing.+iMG_4416.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
His funeral on Saturday was one of the most beautiful experiences I've ever had of living Eucharist. Melissa's father and brothers had constructed his tiny casket of white pine. Francois and Fabio, his godfather, carried it down the aisle to a table in front of the altar where pictures of him and special momentos including the tiny garments he had been clothed in awaited it; the tiny casket was covered in a pall which was a beautiful old crocheted shawl made by a parishioner long ago.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The service was beautiful - conducted jointly by the pastor of Ascension, Fr. Michael, and Patty, the parish administrator. At the offertory, the children present carried flowers down the aisle and placed them in a vase near the casket.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Afterward, we all went to a cemetery not far away, and he was buried in a special section for babies and small children. A monument in that section of the cemetery featured a scripture from Luke: "Let the children come to me . . . for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
And then we went back to the parish school to share a meal . . .</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
And I thought, truly, our days are as grass . . . and what, in the light of eternity, is the difference between a life of one hour and a life of 90 years? We are born to be loved . . . and to live forever in the presence of God. So Xavi-Jean's life was complete.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
And now his parents and family are left to grieve that he was with them so briefly. But what a beautiful testimony to LIFE. What an evidence of how to live in HOLINESS.</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<b>I will never forget this day.</b><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibndGU2G2PiwVA3vGgeLfN3y-SSwg84GNCxYq4QJZDza9dwBFSDCQpXPMUAeLmRnccHd9mpTBMowhPRCFNaPvd2fxlqUqhNDZegdOITsA-U_efP91Zay9xCHbKU5m3lr-_QPaXypZnBJE/s1600/IMG_6038.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibndGU2G2PiwVA3vGgeLfN3y-SSwg84GNCxYq4QJZDza9dwBFSDCQpXPMUAeLmRnccHd9mpTBMowhPRCFNaPvd2fxlqUqhNDZegdOITsA-U_efP91Zay9xCHbKU5m3lr-_QPaXypZnBJE/s400/IMG_6038.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melissa is part of the Centering Prayer group that gathers at St. Jane House on Tuesday mornings. This little display of pictures was up on the Tuesday following Xavi's funeral to share the story with her friends in that group.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">I have asked permission of Melissa to share this story - and these pictures. I didn't take any of them. To bring my camera into this holy space seemed not appropriate to me. I have deliberately omitted last names. I'm not sure why. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana;">
<br />
<br /></div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-74045714489154284062012-09-30T21:25:00.002-07:002012-10-04T04:31:14.230-07:00That time of year ... when yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang upon the bough . . . There's been a distinct shift from summer to fall this past week - some days are still hot. Eighty-one the other day. But nights are very cool - and mornings are crisp and chilly. The leaves are starting to turn. They say it'll be a short foliage season this year because of the long summer drought. But it's turning out to be spectacular!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>So let me tell you about my Sunday at Visitation Monastery</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>in the Monastic Immersion Experience:</b></div>
<br />
Morning prayer is at 8:30 on Sundays (7 AM M-F, 8 on Saturday). I love going to Morning Prayer. Our two houses are only a block apart, so it takes very little time to transition from Girard to Fremont where we have Morning Prayer.<br />
<br />
By the time I got to the kitchen this morning, I could hear the little gong signaling that it was time to begin. Sister Mary Frances was already playing a prelude on the little organ in the chapel when I got there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X-u5vLGPCgr8AcS7r-PrSkc22c6IyHyuq6NylKJnt531ER3my5Y8cn-PP7vU8XLLbEg1bhZVbcOsiyH9sEwsdYguzfo8ONuSxw0Lg-kdsIV2QBe-VTngjmrmRLAQOZB8HwZDqg-bcOY/s1600/DSC00837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-X-u5vLGPCgr8AcS7r-PrSkc22c6IyHyuq6NylKJnt531ER3my5Y8cn-PP7vU8XLLbEg1bhZVbcOsiyH9sEwsdYguzfo8ONuSxw0Lg-kdsIV2QBe-VTngjmrmRLAQOZB8HwZDqg-bcOY/s320/DSC00837.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
We all stop at the shelves and pick up our books - finding my way through the office books is still a challenge for me, but today was just a regular Sunday - Week 2 in the 4 week rotation of psalms. The chapel is tiny. There's room for just the six chairs, a bench across the back where Sister Mary Frances sits at the organ, and the beautiful cruciform Christ backed by the stained glass window. (The window was made deliberately transparent, so we can see out to the street and the intersection of Fremont and 15th. What happens outside those windows is meant to be part of our prayer.)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5bPD4cpP98qUCB-m9RAPF5xg9Kgt96emVDWoo6lPrY9FYjxySONVhTJqpsp593ALVeOuAYJ6k4fVIlOzGEK1sEpCEJcsveQCTtwhGLpssAKqbX5pVlHyegCZs-fDpTLOhNKYvYU0Ltg/s1600/DSC01336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO5bPD4cpP98qUCB-m9RAPF5xg9Kgt96emVDWoo6lPrY9FYjxySONVhTJqpsp593ALVeOuAYJ6k4fVIlOzGEK1sEpCEJcsveQCTtwhGLpssAKqbX5pVlHyegCZs-fDpTLOhNKYvYU0Ltg/s320/DSC01336.JPG" width="320" /></a>We each have our assigned chair. I am tucked in between Sisters Mary Virginia and Mary Margaret on the outside wall. Across from me are Sisters Katherine, Karen, and Suzanne. Our Chinese Sister-in-Residence, Mary Mau and our VIP Intern Anna sit on the bench on either side of Mary Frances.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkEAMXdPZC0jUuPmmWdcQ5aNsg00GBcVESkOKUr66gLmAVTezuQ7AVY-HfEJxcBWJp6MYVmKsNkWflxtKjt7hYMYH86K-qACTtsIvHhF4PK8NBhXJLqc2K-hAVKlMryrvjiOCdcs3zZRY/s1600/DSC01339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkEAMXdPZC0jUuPmmWdcQ5aNsg00GBcVESkOKUr66gLmAVTezuQ7AVY-HfEJxcBWJp6MYVmKsNkWflxtKjt7hYMYH86K-qACTtsIvHhF4PK8NBhXJLqc2K-hAVKlMryrvjiOCdcs3zZRY/s320/DSC01339.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The Sacrament is reserved in our chapel, so each sister makes a profound bow in that direction as she enters. The routine has become familiar - and my heart always leaps for joy when I take my place.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkCc5r6wir7f5Pp2ynH0oxn336_Ti1gs-mWrJEZTH24thzZOJ8vNqU7c8nXt_Biq8Yop3vMNNFOANzFUM-XMcZFZ187JwR1Tm7bXwwdtElXcjQmqW96chcqzNa2dwYw_BOTN2bkuAZYc/s1600/DSC01338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkCc5r6wir7f5Pp2ynH0oxn336_Ti1gs-mWrJEZTH24thzZOJ8vNqU7c8nXt_Biq8Yop3vMNNFOANzFUM-XMcZFZ187JwR1Tm7bXwwdtElXcjQmqW96chcqzNa2dwYw_BOTN2bkuAZYc/s320/DSC01338.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Because I have a condition called Sjogrens, my vocal cords don't work well, so I try hard not to compromise the sound of singing and chanting by sneaking my thin, creaky voice in between those on either side of me as the two sides sing antiphonally. I find that I am always happy when my favorite psalm passages happen to occur when it's "my side's turn." Strange thing to be made happy by something so simple.<br />
<br />
Each week, different sisters are assigned different roles in celebrating the Divine Office. I haven't quite figured out what each one actually does, but it's second nature to them: there is a chantress, a reader, an office planner (who picks the hymns?) and an officiant. I don't have any of these roles; I just have to try to keep my place, be on the right page, and join in when it's "our turn." And keep my voice "invisible."<br />
<br />
Sometimes visitors are with us. There weren't any this morning. I look at the figure of Christ and the glorious window. I look at the vase of flowers placed at the foot of Christ. And I look at the feet of the sisters, and I think, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those who bring good tidings . . . "<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgit1ReQKta39eCHHysweOV1jVuQ8adMcAtw33GHwYK2jbMedop-_pYnLkj3UqIVB_QnytUziN7D23rBJ6ghW9BLuXM0VzKU0SXEqKHkZFn4nDnibIBwj9cG3U2ONvRsppKJfrzhu5qMlo/s1600/DSC00979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgit1ReQKta39eCHHysweOV1jVuQ8adMcAtw33GHwYK2jbMedop-_pYnLkj3UqIVB_QnytUziN7D23rBJ6ghW9BLuXM0VzKU0SXEqKHkZFn4nDnibIBwj9cG3U2ONvRsppKJfrzhu5qMlo/s400/DSC00979.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The Divine Office is very simple: In morning, mid-day, and evening there are three psalms, each with its own antiphon. We all sing the antiphon. One sister sings the opening two lines of the first stanza, the rest of those on her side chime in with the rest. The next stanza is sung by the those of us in the other choir, like playing tennis with our voices - and then the antiphon. Then there is a pause and we are free to speak of something that has to do with the psalm or the reading or with our life in the neighborhood.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Today some shared thoughts on the workshop we went to last night at the Basilica on <b style="font-style: italic;">Faithful Citizenship</b>; it was taught by Father Michael Joncas (the writer of many of my favorite songs, including On Eagles' Wings) and reviewed the pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops on how we Catholics should form our consciences when preparing to vote. And, to my surprise, it was an amazingly helpful and illuminating evening for all of us. He laid out the principles so clearly - and made so clear that once we'd moved through those steps, we each had to consult our own consciences and make a determination based upon our own prudential judgment as to how to mark our ballots. No one - not even the bishops, not even the pope - can violate the sanctity of the individual conscience. The consistent teaching of the church has been that one is obliged to act by his or her own conscience - even if that conscience may be in error! What a great thing to hear that articulated so clearly once more.</span><br />
<br />
Then the organ began and we sang the next antiphon, and chanted the next psalm. And again paused to talk briefly about the things that have happened in the neighborhood in the past few days: a terrible massacre at a business only a mile from here where six people were killed and two more lie in hospital in mortal danger; a fight where homeless people hang out behind the local supermarket where a man was stabbed to death. And a dear friend awaiting news as to whether her chemo is going to save her life.<br />
<br />
And then the next antiphon, the next psalm. After that there was a reading from scripture. Then we sang a response. And then we sang the antiphon for the Canticle of Zechariah which is sung every morning. And then there was a dismissal.<br />
<br />
After Morning Office, we always put our books back in our baskets on the shelf and gather in a little circle in the front hall. As soon as all are present, we bow to one another, saying in unison, <i>God be praised! Good morning, dear Sisters!</i><br />
<br />
The first time I saw this happen, last summer when I visited, I was filled with a stab of pure delight! I said inside myself, <i><b>I love this! Why do I love this? </b></i>And every day I have been here since, I am delighted once more. I feel the love of these people for one another that has been tempered over the years, and I am glad to share in it. Then we share announcements for the day, special requests and concerns (has anyone seen my lost green sock?), who has the car signed out for when? and so forth.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius8XgW15JkMtNMlcpRkhscEpaNtFTKMvQgwTY5w97S5fYHrDqdWuXvhYVZB-kTNw2DaxNVlaY1Qnzq0cVXxXfBnxyp1nyS91u_ZoZEYjxJ09sF78O6kXseRxQ-jxwf0OdU6hRvSBXIko/s1600/DSC01498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius8XgW15JkMtNMlcpRkhscEpaNtFTKMvQgwTY5w97S5fYHrDqdWuXvhYVZB-kTNw2DaxNVlaY1Qnzq0cVXxXfBnxyp1nyS91u_ZoZEYjxJ09sF78O6kXseRxQ-jxwf0OdU6hRvSBXIko/s320/DSC01498.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
As soon as our morning "meeting" was finished, we piled into the van and headed for Ascension church for Sunday mass. Sister Mary Mau and Sister Mary Frances decided to walk - it's only about three or four blocks. They actually beat us there. I found my favorite spot down by the music group, and settled in. Mary Mau and Virginia joined me in that pew. I like to watch the musicians - and I wanted a good vantage point for taking a few more pictures.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbOF74DbRlAeMUu3emf0X4wBy_Lp8MDPx0_0C8p2FxarlQC7JY2fOwIHlIJWv5BmcPc1VmF2qrm72VvDTrqvsbLauiwcgZo7KBxWpzUIoDPBhKoXKu7vVWkwP86KH6YsSpqtz14sUNG8/s1600/DSC01503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbOF74DbRlAeMUu3emf0X4wBy_Lp8MDPx0_0C8p2FxarlQC7JY2fOwIHlIJWv5BmcPc1VmF2qrm72VvDTrqvsbLauiwcgZo7KBxWpzUIoDPBhKoXKu7vVWkwP86KH6YsSpqtz14sUNG8/s200/DSC01503.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
My favorite musician is Pedro. I think he's about 10 years old, and quite a good musician. I love to watch him taking his role so seriously among the adults there.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2LRosI3fgTbQY5ZtdLmrUvcCkqH4UC7Sdt4uwLEvQ0JtZ6RxV0aVP_lL_qxvB0mT9p1CalbReYhMDPjq6bQEWejmAp_FcGq4skR8c_NF9io5XotwHmP5tsqo0-pTnlkgJjrD_xgCo2vY/s1600/DSC01499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2LRosI3fgTbQY5ZtdLmrUvcCkqH4UC7Sdt4uwLEvQ0JtZ6RxV0aVP_lL_qxvB0mT9p1CalbReYhMDPjq6bQEWejmAp_FcGq4skR8c_NF9io5XotwHmP5tsqo0-pTnlkgJjrD_xgCo2vY/s320/DSC01499.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sr. Mary and Sr. Mary Virginia joined me in my pew:<br />
<br />
Father Michael O'Connell delivered the homily today. He was grim. He spoke about the violence in the neighborhood the past week: the massacre, the knifing. And<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyiBd4Z-svPCs9lJUNxPLIoQXjbuVffO-VduDkm007GHYJDO0vhQ_cX1f9QbqTlU928v7zztAYw9AwX-jjgHO24KNeITm5MaGbK_BPNDBCyFM5huDJ2Ma1OPq-ki_q4JJHSnhWNuCOMs/s1600/DSC01505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPyiBd4Z-svPCs9lJUNxPLIoQXjbuVffO-VduDkm007GHYJDO0vhQ_cX1f9QbqTlU928v7zztAYw9AwX-jjgHO24KNeITm5MaGbK_BPNDBCyFM5huDJ2Ma1OPq-ki_q4JJHSnhWNuCOMs/s320/DSC01505.JPG" width="320" /></a>some of the other tragedies of the past few months. A three-year old whose family rule is that if you hear gun-shots while you are at dinner, you take your plate upstairs where there's an interior room that will be safe. A gunshot tore through the wall of his house and killed him on the stairs. A short time later, a five year old, asleep on his grandmother's sofa was killed when his house was riddled with bullets from an automatic rifle. A short time later a homeless man was accosted one night on the sidewalk outside the church by a gang of young people and beaten to death. Father Michael told us that there were special sensors posted on power-poles throughout the city. They record all instances of gunfire and can be used to triangulate and find the source of the shooting. In 2011, there were more than 800 shots fired in our neighborhood.<br />
<br />
Father Michael told us that at the conclusion of the service, after we had blessed the children of the parish, we would all process down the street to the site where the homeless man was knifed, and we would hold a prayer service there. So out we went to the closing song, out the front door and down the sidewalk, servers leading the way, carrying the processional cross, Father Michael and Patty Stromen leading the way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmbKFX-CFUUgbO6cSfe7g-QZKeCKXi1BMd26CK-wogT3MIO2sSpRea-iGVN9mT2lNAelppMurnuwqvCA2laSShyxws4yqW0lqPfRhGNe7s3NpEyBhj0cy6es3SbgtQZSgApJ3UVSkQBA/s1600/DSC01510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmbKFX-CFUUgbO6cSfe7g-QZKeCKXi1BMd26CK-wogT3MIO2sSpRea-iGVN9mT2lNAelppMurnuwqvCA2laSShyxws4yqW0lqPfRhGNe7s3NpEyBhj0cy6es3SbgtQZSgApJ3UVSkQBA/s400/DSC01510.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfZLzI0JfBLbgeEcg5BRD4SteyOMH45FFk37TBUlkJQiMPjhUAE3Hux02fStFA5HXaVgvY9w43vmD2eozMSBOScq3iopYY2TtMBdGWQZX3bFd1UiuGexinTr89cTBddQ4isCwASaGfMI/s1600/DSC01512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfZLzI0JfBLbgeEcg5BRD4SteyOMH45FFk37TBUlkJQiMPjhUAE3Hux02fStFA5HXaVgvY9w43vmD2eozMSBOScq3iopYY2TtMBdGWQZX3bFd1UiuGexinTr89cTBddQ4isCwASaGfMI/s400/DSC01512.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianR0P9A7U6ErsmSGT_RIbAN39H1UAE8k8wn1iToS0CPuD8-KCc6zecLOsdG77AeaR07zHV1tJngQ7Pqf9-btIiS_6yCWfCRZ97qID00G1EizX-xLUYhcks10Qd-r8dQBgNOQi1to3JjE/s1600/DSC01514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianR0P9A7U6ErsmSGT_RIbAN39H1UAE8k8wn1iToS0CPuD8-KCc6zecLOsdG77AeaR07zHV1tJngQ7Pqf9-btIiS_6yCWfCRZ97qID00G1EizX-xLUYhcks10Qd-r8dQBgNOQi1to3JjE/s400/DSC01514.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzlCozo1h19NtcB8b_hrSbtcv0gGdgBbLh0abvAyr5lFf9hM-Vq5ddfVj3B5aRyBNl2a0gNHjWRRoLZRsgyBMx93zoN2ouRjEeenzPYmFApMcNxB0DjA0M7oJvBNsanCRlWGc05Dku2o/s1600/DSC01522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzlCozo1h19NtcB8b_hrSbtcv0gGdgBbLh0abvAyr5lFf9hM-Vq5ddfVj3B5aRyBNl2a0gNHjWRRoLZRsgyBMx93zoN2ouRjEeenzPYmFApMcNxB0DjA0M7oJvBNsanCRlWGc05Dku2o/s400/DSC01522.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCnixkPiUbIHeAoTLxpXBj0LUuE94o4Rn0q3cF0n9x727Gd6o1-7uAfa2dfJ0drak_vfWBoF-yxHqRHwQXRA7V472UfxeDCQCi1MWO8tK-z7lhTZz8N1meLsQ9n29cQzbYZU-aAtAcTU/s1600/DSC01524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCnixkPiUbIHeAoTLxpXBj0LUuE94o4Rn0q3cF0n9x727Gd6o1-7uAfa2dfJ0drak_vfWBoF-yxHqRHwQXRA7V472UfxeDCQCi1MWO8tK-z7lhTZz8N1meLsQ9n29cQzbYZU-aAtAcTU/s400/DSC01524.JPG" width="400" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56UCP8GO5pTsutUOPGXBfQtzHiWNp8cYal2BtRKnxSmkfdTw7FmMWtZgkdXCTEe3Xxwmb7-bAI1j0qDjil-_YUSx4Vwwp3xLUV6tsQ0x77cLC5rdJFMo2FjIEHMtSMv-u2Cynnz1kWVE/s1600/DSC01525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56UCP8GO5pTsutUOPGXBfQtzHiWNp8cYal2BtRKnxSmkfdTw7FmMWtZgkdXCTEe3Xxwmb7-bAI1j0qDjil-_YUSx4Vwwp3xLUV6tsQ0x77cLC5rdJFMo2FjIEHMtSMv-u2Cynnz1kWVE/s400/DSC01525.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Then we returned home. Four sisters live in each of our houses. I live in Girard. There were only three of us home for breakfast. Sister Karen has been out of town at a meeting of the Visitation Federation in Washington, DC. So Sister Mary Frances fried bacon and eggs for our breakfast, and we made some toast and shared our meal at the dining table while reading the Sunday <i>New York Times.</i><br />
<br />
Afterward, Mary Frances and I helped clean up after breakfast while Mary Virginia made a pecan pie for dinner tonight. Then we all went about our own affairs. I worked on my messy desk for a while. (Yes, it followed me all the way here from Forks!)<br />
<br />
And then I went out to take a walk. I decided I wanted some pictures of the newly turned foliage before it is gone. They say we have another week of this gentle autumn weather and then it will turn cold and blustery. I walked all over the neighborhood. I met people I knew here and there - and was glad to share in the general good will that the sisters have earned in the neighborhood. It was a beautiful day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hxTgm24V1Jo54YBsx2ViW7klISiyg3YLAetiop6JXN9h_Rgr8AvRq3wRmg2XDzTB7OXYYVAJHb-5EMEj35WJr3WsTpxlZrdxeaRUuLBTa4K0CwkO1VguZacaj7KJ_AYYji-HOcJQkyA/s1600/DSC01544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hxTgm24V1Jo54YBsx2ViW7klISiyg3YLAetiop6JXN9h_Rgr8AvRq3wRmg2XDzTB7OXYYVAJHb-5EMEj35WJr3WsTpxlZrdxeaRUuLBTa4K0CwkO1VguZacaj7KJ_AYYji-HOcJQkyA/s400/DSC01544.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICEZnJt4aN0pEi_7WHCEaXB1Poo2KVicRSPqBkyidxqJoon3z7DXrpBbBxjo7pPEwF388wU-cTDqD8rkNY-DghYjjEbndOhpKl9YCfV61OJ24ZNk6FnoqUYY5aPBo6tlBMIZYNul2HPE/s1600/DSC01547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICEZnJt4aN0pEi_7WHCEaXB1Poo2KVicRSPqBkyidxqJoon3z7DXrpBbBxjo7pPEwF388wU-cTDqD8rkNY-DghYjjEbndOhpKl9YCfV61OJ24ZNk6FnoqUYY5aPBo6tlBMIZYNul2HPE/s400/DSC01547.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6c2WrOr8q8UUmKOERBZ3nmrl29GaTd4YJCHN2eLqCSRhfo2krMv2HrnIIxTDe8a2GSxiWSv_tiGowVpEZ-6G4NyZB3z4_rLp2xFYjlgPk54jll4OHOhlfMns71g7lHZjS4MwjlHSrRw/s1600/DSC01549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6c2WrOr8q8UUmKOERBZ3nmrl29GaTd4YJCHN2eLqCSRhfo2krMv2HrnIIxTDe8a2GSxiWSv_tiGowVpEZ-6G4NyZB3z4_rLp2xFYjlgPk54jll4OHOhlfMns71g7lHZjS4MwjlHSrRw/s400/DSC01549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAbRXn8ZV4IrVG631Zf6F6RbmwrIlB2ABf8Co5GzKqe4vA70xcdFTkoA5qrI7d5WKG5qqkjNdqXkURhMeu4BR5R01HT-jebvqC8LG1D3p0OaXwMGMsyH_eboTvhhvnka6nJCTx3TTR9I/s1600/DSC01550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAbRXn8ZV4IrVG631Zf6F6RbmwrIlB2ABf8Co5GzKqe4vA70xcdFTkoA5qrI7d5WKG5qqkjNdqXkURhMeu4BR5R01HT-jebvqC8LG1D3p0OaXwMGMsyH_eboTvhhvnka6nJCTx3TTR9I/s400/DSC01550.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
And now I am working on this blog, downloading my pictures, and trying to get those stacks of paper organized and put away. I'm going out in an hour or so to a performance of Mexican music and dance with Anna. Some of the other sisters went to the show last night while I was at the workshop on Faithful Citizenship with the rest. So we'll miss Evening Prayer at 5 PM. That's when the show starts. We have the car checked out (and Anna will drive! I'm not very comfortable driving at night - nor driving the Prius). We'll miss dinner, too, but we'll warm ours up in the microwave when we return.<br />
<br />
And I've just remembered! I must save time before I leave to set the table for dinner. That's one of my responsibilities -<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Later . . . </i></b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuih9nHSIkvdNIQKWUy2crYXlBr7qFFz6a0tays3qW99aMsulorNLUb04npbRIHrc34c03ojiDLk-2a6WbM_PqMDZkyLNki0wQTK5uITL6M2YKciTynFYKpiM8ZpPawRDzjlPKBkJZZLk/s1600/DSC01613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuih9nHSIkvdNIQKWUy2crYXlBr7qFFz6a0tays3qW99aMsulorNLUb04npbRIHrc34c03ojiDLk-2a6WbM_PqMDZkyLNki0wQTK5uITL6M2YKciTynFYKpiM8ZpPawRDzjlPKBkJZZLk/s640/DSC01613.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anna and I went to <i><b>Celebremos MEXICO! </b></i>a program of music and dance presented by my friends Sevaro and Melina Garcia as "a way of sharing the culture and heritage of Mexico with the community."<br />
<br />
And then back to Girard to find the other sisters all deeply engaged in a game arond the dining table. Today is the beginning of the Moon Festival - a mid-autumn festival in China, so they were playing Sr. Mary Mau's favorite game, Spinner dominoes, between dinner and night prayer. I warmed up my dinner and ate it as I watched the game conclude.<br />
<br />
Then upstairs to our little Girard chapel for Night Prayer which is very brief: one psalm, a responsorial, and the Canticle of Simeon.<br />
<br />
We sing,<i> </i><br />
<i> Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; </i><br />
<i> watch over us as we sleep, </i><br />
<i> that awake, we may keep watch with Christ, </i><br />
<i> and asleep rest in his peace.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i> Lord, now you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled . . . </i><br />
(the prayer of Simeon upon seeing the infant Jesus presented in the<br />
temple . . .) then a closing prayer ending every night with these words:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i> May the all-powerful Lord grant us a restful night and a peaceful death. </i><br />
<i> Amen. </i><br />
<br />
Then we sang the refrain of <i>Gentle Woman</i> and finished as always with a short litany of saints.<br />
<br />
A few sisters went downstairs to catch the 9 o'clock news. The Fremont folk went back to the other house. And I came up to finish this blog.<br />
<br />
It's a simple life here. I've just finished my third month. I'm half way through my stay here. I love every day. Every moment.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(Note: these blogs do not necessarily occur in chronological order. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-80403529220885533042012-09-06T14:30:00.001-07:002012-10-03T20:43:02.683-07:00Gospel and Jazz on the Lawn - Alafia Place, Minneapolis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYCc-YJqJBiWaRvUQiqGamoatLoK2KnMOZbVegVeJYUlX9s1Ptfi-fYm90QCzOMLLQaCgsHC5qRQ109P7hP3gGQL9NCyJXodmxH4L5HGbnPDbvFGBWdT8zxmF42Iup6HaijrvMNuZVuY/s1600/MaryJohonson.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYCc-YJqJBiWaRvUQiqGamoatLoK2KnMOZbVegVeJYUlX9s1Ptfi-fYm90QCzOMLLQaCgsHC5qRQ109P7hP3gGQL9NCyJXodmxH4L5HGbnPDbvFGBWdT8zxmF42Iup6HaijrvMNuZVuY/s1600/MaryJohonson.jpg.jpg" /></a></div>
One of the most remarkable people I have ever met is Mary Johnson. Mary's son was killed many years ago by another young African American man. Years later, Mary, who knew her Bible, and who knew Jesus's admonition to us that we really must forgive those who have wronged us, went to the prison where her son's murderer had been living for 10 years. She spent two hours there getting to know him. And out of that encounter, she forgave him.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.fromdeathtolife.us/home.html" target="_blank">.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhka6CjOdSw9E48vi7-l_wEEOYI0zvqMVX9mBIW4fIiCO1MXJAk_mxdkS5K2UVxuXmMAH3eitgtrqwBjqgAnMP8c6Tkf2TVLz9P3mvAkMjwg-6MT5DSphDJfxgCKF65KB0LBcs-oGt0YvU/s1600/shapeimage_11.png" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He is now out of prison - and both live in Alafia Place, a little apartment building in Minneapolis. One of my most wonderful experience here in Minneapolis was attending the annual<a href="http://www.fromdeathtolife.us/GospelAndJazzOnTheLawn2012.html" target="_blank"> "Gospel and Jazz on the Lawn" </a>event a couple of weeks ago; it was hosted by Brian Mogren, director of<a href="http://bewhoyouare.info/" target="_blank"> St. Jane House,</a> the Visitation Sisters spirituality center.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q632hXHYgGKCE_uKlFs1QM_u-V69pURbIY_WNcjdnHSq4wRytiM1V87roecLzqtcC3nDjtNFJoMUP2TWu8HZwbYvCktJmCCwg56wUOna1unF5b5PHomg9cOSVCuDioUUCmQOyxaN5GM/s1600/DSC01005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q632hXHYgGKCE_uKlFs1QM_u-V69pURbIY_WNcjdnHSq4wRytiM1V87roecLzqtcC3nDjtNFJoMUP2TWu8HZwbYvCktJmCCwg56wUOna1unF5b5PHomg9cOSVCuDioUUCmQOyxaN5GM/s200/DSC01005.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
The evening included a wonderful dinner, a beautifully decorated garden, and fantastic music, featuring <a href="http://robertrobinsonmusic.com/" target="_blank">Robbie Robinson</a>, a wonderful gospel singer.<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-TdX6-LcnUwPmIkxRezgnP1nHNiYTQFIf9jio1kYdyCW_jpaaciX5sRRsy-HX6RSQ_M29zwJL6Ww1AS0fL9CVmD-6VsnTU96SfHYHhcBJLOMfLFYo9r_V5vZfgOWbpHV6g9ia61211c/s1600/DSC01063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-TdX6-LcnUwPmIkxRezgnP1nHNiYTQFIf9jio1kYdyCW_jpaaciX5sRRsy-HX6RSQ_M29zwJL6Ww1AS0fL9CVmD-6VsnTU96SfHYHhcBJLOMfLFYo9r_V5vZfgOWbpHV6g9ia61211c/s320/DSC01063.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The event is held yearly to support the ministry of Mary Johnson, the founder of <a href="http://www.fromdeathtolife.us/home.html" target="_blank">From Death to Life.</a> Mary has pulled together the mothers (and some fathers) of young people killed by violence in this area - and the mothers of those who have committed violence. They meet regularly at St. Jane House for healing prayer and community. During the course of the evening, Mary called up the members of her community, and, one at a time, they spoke the names of their children, and told when and how they lost them - because, as Mary says, the mothers of both the victims and the victimizers lose their children. It was a beautiful sight to see.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaLyShiadhJ03EWO0a9zmThr8irk3Z72j0j_EZslFIC7F6MfbgmKUgU4ngtm-XEZKp6JafMtREZ4jiGAUrPtpkYoO-eckGSiaTgPw7vFYJrov4Pg8MHJb1gfAuzphvaOXVpKhyphenhyphenMH0bLk/s1600/Jazz..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaLyShiadhJ03EWO0a9zmThr8irk3Z72j0j_EZslFIC7F6MfbgmKUgU4ngtm-XEZKp6JafMtREZ4jiGAUrPtpkYoO-eckGSiaTgPw7vFYJrov4Pg8MHJb1gfAuzphvaOXVpKhyphenhyphenMH0bLk/s320/Jazz..JPG" width="320" /></a>Mary and Oshea Israel, the young man she forgave and now calls her second son, go together to speak to young people, or to people in prison. Mary went to Washington, D.C. recently to speak to the question of whether minors should ever be sentenced to life in prison. The Supreme Court Justices, as we now know, agreed with her that teenagers have not yet developed sufficiently to be fully responsible for their actions, and that, therefore, it is unconstitutional for them to be sentenced to life imprisonment. I am told that Mary has been invited to Assisi, Italy, to speak at a conference on forgiveness sometime this year.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I am so delighted to get to meet her - and visit with her from time to time, because she does show up at Visitation often, and is a good friend of the Sisters.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7-LZiGePLsufMP5EFyGWLE2A9b22QZnsYwkqXMkVUAffDJUJ-CEhcV4jY6SrCxkS6uRkuVBItx0buM2z0FKNdo3zp0qQLkWKt7uaYz7_PA-s5-0y9H3SygQNHIazqKG_tEY-Pjm3Vic/s1600/DSC01043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7-LZiGePLsufMP5EFyGWLE2A9b22QZnsYwkqXMkVUAffDJUJ-CEhcV4jY6SrCxkS6uRkuVBItx0buM2z0FKNdo3zp0qQLkWKt7uaYz7_PA-s5-0y9H3SygQNHIazqKG_tEY-Pjm3Vic/s320/DSC01043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
She's an amazing woman, and a real inspiration to me. Because I, too, believe we are called to forgive our enemies. I don't find that easy - but if Mary Johnson could forgive Oshea Israel, I should be able to forgive those who haven't done me anywhere near that kind of harm.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsV6kzdzQYXJlFPU3jxrDIu9WGpP16Mx8jJWsvOefSrQVlIi0EdSEWl_wAEvQ6YNdHMOxv_9jaFZk7eTLljR8zRGEZe5t7KAoK1KXFoDc-WDtCzwNwQrZifxE4DaqaEMJLj5XPvH_CaJ8/s1600/DSC01058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsV6kzdzQYXJlFPU3jxrDIu9WGpP16Mx8jJWsvOefSrQVlIi0EdSEWl_wAEvQ6YNdHMOxv_9jaFZk7eTLljR8zRGEZe5t7KAoK1KXFoDc-WDtCzwNwQrZifxE4DaqaEMJLj5XPvH_CaJ8/s200/DSC01058.JPG" width="187" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
So in support of her ministry, Brian Mogran hosts this wonderful party each year: Gospel and Jazz on the Lawn. What a wonderful, vibrant group of people were there! Mary's group, the sisters from Visitation Monastery, neighbors, friends, and supporters. It was marvelous and fun!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3sUbj1vtiSqoZUSKCMF3b49bp_sk_nj-XbX-GazspYUXpwfYnTr5XgnLsI_iW2PXDfrTF1BDhaNkEcBASYuhpjTS2-r99-E4Ti5UhEL57d7x6G0jBBNMlEeF2Y2cjXrZHwIPZW2Y_o8/s1600/DSC01067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3sUbj1vtiSqoZUSKCMF3b49bp_sk_nj-XbX-GazspYUXpwfYnTr5XgnLsI_iW2PXDfrTF1BDhaNkEcBASYuhpjTS2-r99-E4Ti5UhEL57d7x6G0jBBNMlEeF2Y2cjXrZHwIPZW2Y_o8/s320/DSC01067.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4nH3jIVcd0FQ8eHgM8gwzwljofXgsLmsfWQQX2urvqeKZYLxTxKFG2DgNQllQJwLdDqOkcW7scBHAI8KS1iC7kOsYk9XTNNN8IVaAdMjbxMK7TPIMS6uBnKMXn6SPx_ny_ws4hAi8tQ/s1600/DSC01047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4nH3jIVcd0FQ8eHgM8gwzwljofXgsLmsfWQQX2urvqeKZYLxTxKFG2DgNQllQJwLdDqOkcW7scBHAI8KS1iC7kOsYk9XTNNN8IVaAdMjbxMK7TPIMS6uBnKMXn6SPx_ny_ws4hAi8tQ/s320/DSC01047.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzjFnhrH8P7HUj8qSkgTV4X79CLUw9vwz7Q2TiKpguyh43XG3HEaoRvc8xlaDpZBh0IpuHVkqW3oNaPDDBL4cbZUggydtcQKCGAO0KcaO-5khT-iqCxTne8yImDomuRYslyy9RZy9BR0/s1600/DSC01114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzjFnhrH8P7HUj8qSkgTV4X79CLUw9vwz7Q2TiKpguyh43XG3HEaoRvc8xlaDpZBh0IpuHVkqW3oNaPDDBL4cbZUggydtcQKCGAO0KcaO-5khT-iqCxTne8yImDomuRYslyy9RZy9BR0/s320/DSC01114.JPG" width="320" /></a> The music was incredible. Robbie Robinson's voice is like liquid velvet chocolate! And his marvelous faith pours out of him and into all his listeners! I've never heard anyone that inspired me more. And before the evening was over, I was dancing, too! With the sisters! With Brian!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLPDV5hVjbFDQAWoB_Q6pBAkXu3VoqKrQB1W7u0e02A4AOQZoRzFgaAR_H5H9E9e0mG1TkWxiA3AQGY6KBahO_sqcuwDnDlrTLXnSJpBBCYJ8MhP4IvYgfAZ1aD9eH_FZV7aNV02vLkM/s1600/DSC01117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLPDV5hVjbFDQAWoB_Q6pBAkXu3VoqKrQB1W7u0e02A4AOQZoRzFgaAR_H5H9E9e0mG1TkWxiA3AQGY6KBahO_sqcuwDnDlrTLXnSJpBBCYJ8MhP4IvYgfAZ1aD9eH_FZV7aNV02vLkM/s320/DSC01117.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When Mary's friends started sharing, there was hardly a dry eye in the town! Those women - and some men - have truly suffered and have chosen to forgive. Wow!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNtdMhjO2NS6beem3VFPto-_d0qWiHucLQhaWa-4S4msF8K2BtLXqBatRZuZedv980KiIj1WoAP-5XB2ClV9FLxVUBU0pwYe9jdtJ1gCpb1m9C0mQGE6wSgVRIUKpy1p35lPMlsPWuFM/s1600/DSC01095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNtdMhjO2NS6beem3VFPto-_d0qWiHucLQhaWa-4S4msF8K2BtLXqBatRZuZedv980KiIj1WoAP-5XB2ClV9FLxVUBU0pwYe9jdtJ1gCpb1m9C0mQGE6wSgVRIUKpy1p35lPMlsPWuFM/s320/DSC01095.JPG" width="320" /></a>The sisters' charism is to "Live Jesus," and it just happens that way in North Minneapolis! Mary says "forgiveness" is the new "f-" word. I hear it a lot in this neighborhood - mixed into the cacophany of violence and anger and poverty and troubles. Makes me experience that "the Kingdom of Heaven" is <b><i>truly</i></b> among us. We live in mystery of good and bad - but when the good shines out it is truly amazing.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6dhdL3paGGYafBNeKqTxnlnM_Sv2vnIJ6KK2Mo_bcupw5uonZQBd7-xVb5BMOfPRGPamzWIIft5nxDLq6noOf5KFAksXvraYv6WJeCzu06rtCk63tScrRI4GafqxEivk-AaISHWZanc/s1600/DSC01136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6dhdL3paGGYafBNeKqTxnlnM_Sv2vnIJ6KK2Mo_bcupw5uonZQBd7-xVb5BMOfPRGPamzWIIft5nxDLq6noOf5KFAksXvraYv6WJeCzu06rtCk63tScrRI4GafqxEivk-AaISHWZanc/s320/DSC01136.JPG" width="320" /></a> Before the evening was over there were games. Miss Linda (Goynes) who is a Visitation Companion was the grand winner! She's dancing up a storm here in celebration (pink sweater). (I so wish I could have shared the music with you, too, but if you don't sort of hear it while seeing these pictures, I'd be surprised.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And, of course, there had to be one round with Brian and Mary. And finally Sr. Mary Frances took the floor with the rest and the dance went on into the dark of night.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNwmptGWCOcxjwwnixPOGk7E1KxpVqN9O_v3mNdmA4l_OCGoqMXzJPOZicVstXUFormjcKJgJ3vy_XDH-67q-jp-0NiWWCoOqfmQQS8TYZ96RldHgcPhgZ9lZuX-h1Qhu13pmAFJYWcU/s1600/DSC01134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNwmptGWCOcxjwwnixPOGk7E1KxpVqN9O_v3mNdmA4l_OCGoqMXzJPOZicVstXUFormjcKJgJ3vy_XDH-67q-jp-0NiWWCoOqfmQQS8TYZ96RldHgcPhgZ9lZuX-h1Qhu13pmAFJYWcU/s320/DSC01134.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pKeAtUT15QjNDrFaj14UNgmvn0YjDZYn6sWyaC1Dxzd-j4_sBcirc3nmJle3mRvjfG6fXB5Ip5ruUiDT3Mnx4debcbNJlYlu2CDz6_AXO2iTUAdGKCXPq-SbpW5Mx2L17hGp5HhYSzQ/s1600/DSC01142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pKeAtUT15QjNDrFaj14UNgmvn0YjDZYn6sWyaC1Dxzd-j4_sBcirc3nmJle3mRvjfG6fXB5Ip5ruUiDT3Mnx4debcbNJlYlu2CDz6_AXO2iTUAdGKCXPq-SbpW5Mx2L17hGp5HhYSzQ/s320/DSC01142.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Who would have guessed that nuns had so much fun???<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As we left, we passed the "Memory Tree," where earlier in the evening, pictures of children lost to violence in the neighborhood were displayed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtveaXzZgsT9eec5mIEWtraG_FKzD4GCWjaYepUwzZHDlo1pJ46j0Dwdls2dbpL_GBZcAsaF2xYkbb5y3YQURtn06GSxAjpJE4nrnDixbPNiHT61jfpXaToxj3dExm65-SJNxoMMxLZ2o/s1600/DSC01144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtveaXzZgsT9eec5mIEWtraG_FKzD4GCWjaYepUwzZHDlo1pJ46j0Dwdls2dbpL_GBZcAsaF2xYkbb5y3YQURtn06GSxAjpJE4nrnDixbPNiHT61jfpXaToxj3dExm65-SJNxoMMxLZ2o/s400/DSC01144.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span id="goog_1795959620"></span><span id="goog_1795959621"></span><br />Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-77067212510501189642012-08-27T13:09:00.096-07:002012-08-31T15:51:01.294-07:00Saturday morning in the neighborhood-North MinneapolisVisitation Monastery follows a regular schedule: we gather together four times every day to pray the Divine Office. Morning prayer on weekdays is at 7. On Saturdays it's at 8, and on Sundays 8:30. We either have a mass celebrated here at the Monastery or we go out to a neighboring parish. On Saturday mornings we generally have a Communion Service. Dinner is at 6:15. But in and around those regularly scheduled practices, all sorts of other things happen. THIS Saturday, August 25, was one such day!<br />
<br />
So this Saturday morning, we gathered at 8, and several neighbors and friends joined us. We had a busy morning planned since the annual Back-to-School party was scheduled to begin at 1 PM.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Urban League Parade comes down Girard Street!</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b><br />
<b><br />
</b></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNe8bmnY-PRLVYdhtmrs-eOJHXK2RCFaEoqUZRXJrGGKN4CDM_Dq_wO51N39nZINSG3JfU0ZPc40X04h7k_vX0QMXpdXMNDvQGajVip0VTXIx6XGMqQPfekwoaK9vo9ZOCQweyHF7n-0/s1600/DSC01236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNe8bmnY-PRLVYdhtmrs-eOJHXK2RCFaEoqUZRXJrGGKN4CDM_Dq_wO51N39nZINSG3JfU0ZPc40X04h7k_vX0QMXpdXMNDvQGajVip0VTXIx6XGMqQPfekwoaK9vo9ZOCQweyHF7n-0/s200/DSC01236.JPG" width="200" /></a>But there was more! The Urban League sponsored a community parade which came down Girard Street where I am living. It was a great little community parade - with lots of young people from drum groups, dance companies, politicians leafleting the neighborhood as their supporters marched in their support.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CloMJ2LFXUO3mo_AjDVMh9crMr-kTvbAyGFGcMIGUegBhd-_sb2nzhLfLa-_oKDVJst6ktcdzp2-23pqoSulawbMnd2riu5wn38fA7byG90BByDyM3sjUQU0VF_L8N5rCvY9owk5W6E/s1600/DSC01177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CloMJ2LFXUO3mo_AjDVMh9crMr-kTvbAyGFGcMIGUegBhd-_sb2nzhLfLa-_oKDVJst6ktcdzp2-23pqoSulawbMnd2riu5wn38fA7byG90BByDyM3sjUQU0VF_L8N5rCvY9owk5W6E/s200/DSC01177.JPG" width="200" /></a>A couple of car clubs drove their cool cars, filled with family members and friends, past our house.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFO8hSjKAqZIoH85lpOJa9OPxKkjh0-hdAxdopPOYCxsQTtexY2xC0vy8yr2864Ytn8KUtfikXWjL6kO07rIrZg8lK1ONKJd_svR6423u9SjKFdUmpKg57iz9t0rcTFrG_8Wtso-MFeY/s1600/DSC01152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFO8hSjKAqZIoH85lpOJa9OPxKkjh0-hdAxdopPOYCxsQTtexY2xC0vy8yr2864Ytn8KUtfikXWjL6kO07rIrZg8lK1ONKJd_svR6423u9SjKFdUmpKg57iz9t0rcTFrG_8Wtso-MFeY/s320/DSC01152.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Neighbors followed the parade course down the sidewalk past our house.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Zo4YQZjPSdSY_OV2Y-_YGta7rhqov1GyZPJmCT2WJdqVY0pi36N4KOTnbyMnJrm6WtBfDYN6nntfKNwVEUu7P3wqGgegfTr8sJbpu8jOFNuGyImuigVeOVu16xNxSnXALjRg2jJ1QJ0/s1600/DSC01222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Zo4YQZjPSdSY_OV2Y-_YGta7rhqov1GyZPJmCT2WJdqVY0pi36N4KOTnbyMnJrm6WtBfDYN6nntfKNwVEUu7P3wqGgegfTr8sJbpu8jOFNuGyImuigVeOVu16xNxSnXALjRg2jJ1QJ0/s200/DSC01222.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGHSH6vbTgdtb8Gdfyq619Ho5Y2ot8tE5yQL4uotNmeiRi9Z5mwOWGBWdiAHWxOMgX35RJcSpxdl-rSaCqSjTdM0gvwmaWYMgODvWst-giHfR84dBF9SyNeViGS79ZjQman5uL8p5vkE/s1600/DSC01220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGHSH6vbTgdtb8Gdfyq619Ho5Y2ot8tE5yQL4uotNmeiRi9Z5mwOWGBWdiAHWxOMgX35RJcSpxdl-rSaCqSjTdM0gvwmaWYMgODvWst-giHfR84dBF9SyNeViGS79ZjQman5uL8p5vkE/s200/DSC01220.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyuL7t89ZwwP8Hi6m5tPVcx0lb0conAYI8c-zpaca9wIuD8WMHapFMuc5aqkRx5qcIxItJAWSzPOQ4iWw1aS_btQ9-RvYvdSG4bTtIJlBCZq9yzZ17tpNdj8x5w_vZR-I1uDPqzIDRvs/s1600/DSC01219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyuL7t89ZwwP8Hi6m5tPVcx0lb0conAYI8c-zpaca9wIuD8WMHapFMuc5aqkRx5qcIxItJAWSzPOQ4iWw1aS_btQ9-RvYvdSG4bTtIJlBCZq9yzZ17tpNdj8x5w_vZR-I1uDPqzIDRvs/s200/DSC01219.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Brian Mogren and friends followed Mary Johnson, riding in a truck, carrying signs for the Death to Life group, led by the Mad Dads.<i> (The Mad Dads are very large African American men who wear bright green T-shirts say <b>MAD DAD!</b> They hear some trouble is brewing on the corner of 18th and whatever, they tend to just be there. Just looking at Mad Dads takes a lot out of a group of youngsters looking for trouble!) </i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbn0D-T9QOrIHREtuBHAIAaN4tfbRNmCgiO8yKsziBwX0k_sUZIfQBkKTFQHIO0CJV24u6bAVlnsAEOnVNl3j06X2EeJZlGZEgdih_lvwyWzK-EePPcWH7AIGYX_1c_s9mnrhInDvKwj8/s1600/DSC01191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbn0D-T9QOrIHREtuBHAIAaN4tfbRNmCgiO8yKsziBwX0k_sUZIfQBkKTFQHIO0CJV24u6bAVlnsAEOnVNl3j06X2EeJZlGZEgdih_lvwyWzK-EePPcWH7AIGYX_1c_s9mnrhInDvKwj8/s320/DSC01191.JPG" width="320" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyY5r3J5Yur8Wd9Z0MOZq5fhP-nVj6DmxoON3OuhCxus3wqBBHBXEu2fZRKe3xlvs_iEp6eacz8uoSzKjNnv5VHG8TbM34u3gErwxELThdjSrcsO8U70A04ArYAbCvjq2Yk4CYhzOqgvA/s1600/DSC01191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">This float featured a young Native American dancer.</span></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdi_VfUl6oba6k79XdTUHZpxCBhwnLM1rHAWNlDpN8WwGhyTFP5b5N9SFMGJMdubZayn24cGhguMtjZe_XfKOP2prY9lkLxcaBkAhn7fjKa4uEOibTKPfghN5W5gF5iR7ycQXv9iqqfc/s1600/DSC01149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdi_VfUl6oba6k79XdTUHZpxCBhwnLM1rHAWNlDpN8WwGhyTFP5b5N9SFMGJMdubZayn24cGhguMtjZe_XfKOP2prY9lkLxcaBkAhn7fjKa4uEOibTKPfghN5W5gF5iR7ycQXv9iqqfc/s400/DSC01149.JPG" width="400" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">This one's a high-stepping drill team.</span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdi_VfUl6oba6k79XdTUHZpxCBhwnLM1rHAWNlDpN8WwGhyTFP5b5N9SFMGJMdubZayn24cGhguMtjZe_XfKOP2prY9lkLxcaBkAhn7fjKa4uEOibTKPfghN5W5gF5iR7ycQXv9iqqfc/s1600/DSC01149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rWrkGyjJ0M2K1SVLxQheKuMTZrfMJ465vIP1QsnafevYhmuYhzf4BvX8Yp1WE5XgWQFTrU0Y6Ek3uCURvIwFINsJCT4donWPFZucFomnv1Tqb966Aeko3ed611paxO7H19iPSyGbRQA/s1600/DSC01246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8rWrkGyjJ0M2K1SVLxQheKuMTZrfMJ465vIP1QsnafevYhmuYhzf4BvX8Yp1WE5XgWQFTrU0Y6Ek3uCURvIwFINsJCT4donWPFZucFomnv1Tqb966Aeko3ed611paxO7H19iPSyGbRQA/s320/DSC01246.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Congressman Keith Ellison and his contingent were at the very end of the parade, passing out campaign literature as they paraded along. Ellison is the only Muslim member of Congress, and he's a dear friend of the Visitation Sisters. He stopped for a visit with them. I was pleased to meet him. He told me that his mother had been raised a Catholic, and "she loved those Nuns!" So we had someone take a picture of us all together.<br />
<br />
But that was just in the morning. There was more to come!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Back-to-School Party</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Many years ago a family from the suburbs visited North Minneapolis. A young girl in the family took it all in. Later she told her parents, "I already have everything I want. From now on, I want to give parties for kids who don't have everything they need instead of having more parties for myself." She meant it, and her parents cooperated. That was 17 years ago. She's grown up now and living her adult life. Her mother continues the tradition. She gives four parties a year for the children of North Minneapolis in our neighborhood, and they are done through Visitation Monastery. In the fall, it's the Back-to-School Party.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGx4BXh8XlAh-zk6Bxql63SUHrDoZUDRrq6oj-IH9BFhSJm7NBeL2PHbxYPwEP8KqK0m-6lP-yyhAdQxJpcjs09lDWd-fyxiEcmQLIn0y6jBiq-hUXT7gA5-Yyy3s7uKnPfnjW-Zrww0/s1600/DSC01252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGx4BXh8XlAh-zk6Bxql63SUHrDoZUDRrq6oj-IH9BFhSJm7NBeL2PHbxYPwEP8KqK0m-6lP-yyhAdQxJpcjs09lDWd-fyxiEcmQLIn0y6jBiq-hUXT7gA5-Yyy3s7uKnPfnjW-Zrww0/s320/DSC01252.JPG" width="320" /></a>Saturday afternoon, about 75 invited children and their parents arrived at the Monastery for the annual party. Some of the parents were children themselves who came to this party when they were small. It's not just a give-away. It's a PARTY! There are GAMES! Lots of games! Jump-rope and miniature golf, bean bag and ring-toss! Something about little ducks floating in a bowl of water - and ping-pong balls being thrown into tiny gold-fish bowls. Dice, bowling, and more! In 17 years it has never rained for this party. This year it did. So at the last minute, the games - most of them - had to be moved into Girard House. That was interesting! A team of teenagers who ran the games had a training session in the morning. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAfErXwqxUC7w1VkBQeVYDpqFB8jXFFHye2ycgW2LZv6kYmdOI2Z12GIm-IVBv79TyvbnrOqVG9Cev8NIHPOUNlidLd7hATDKlRmwm_weBLBuE87EHrP8GRCa5sZzmlHvHnJVewzC4k/s1600/DSC01301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvAfErXwqxUC7w1VkBQeVYDpqFB8jXFFHye2ycgW2LZv6kYmdOI2Z12GIm-IVBv79TyvbnrOqVG9Cev8NIHPOUNlidLd7hATDKlRmwm_weBLBuE87EHrP8GRCa5sZzmlHvHnJVewzC4k/s200/DSC01301.JPG" width="150" /></a>And then the invited guests started arriving at neighbor Bob's garage to register, and then pick out a back-pack from the dozens of brightly colored ones available. Then, on to Girard House where they packed into the downstairs and the basement below to play games to "win" the supplies to fill them up (in these games everybody wins!). Notebook paper, binders, pee-chees, ball-point pens, erasers, pencil sharpeners, crayons, marker, calculators, protractors - there were enough school supplies here to stock a Costco's! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4KEHzncUpCdx1_-_QOipSE_qsFUedxWt3LWrApAMrWeFh3k5IM-JfFwAslfzTJoFjEELeFuq5zlLlFHA1REmJeePmo4Q2WaOA5sFZVfMunPmxUe8qIevbWUITGX9PW0XW4YIAvZn3jI/s1600/DSC01299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4KEHzncUpCdx1_-_QOipSE_qsFUedxWt3LWrApAMrWeFh3k5IM-JfFwAslfzTJoFjEELeFuq5zlLlFHA1REmJeePmo4Q2WaOA5sFZVfMunPmxUe8qIevbWUITGX9PW0XW4YIAvZn3jI/s200/DSC01299.JPG" width="200" /></a>And the teen leaders encouraged them to keep trying to land those purple beanbags into the purple cereal bowls, or take one more try at landing all three ping-pong balls into their little gold-fish bowls. Little boys swung unfamiliar miniature golf clubs at little plastic golf-balls.</div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTxDqhP9nofYdWAvZHjYWOzKElTLYLx16p-vVE41n1WOFzsDYBlNz4iDtryy2ieawxEh9NXez6JUGWDFIiUh8diI4WUILeotNGmJ7MRH8hmssgfgPDqU6kEHtuDHIMLTdKsUqIBsR5fY/s1600/DSC01290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTxDqhP9nofYdWAvZHjYWOzKElTLYLx16p-vVE41n1WOFzsDYBlNz4iDtryy2ieawxEh9NXez6JUGWDFIiUh8diI4WUILeotNGmJ7MRH8hmssgfgPDqU6kEHtuDHIMLTdKsUqIBsR5fY/s320/DSC01290.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5y0ndg7hWbL08Y030lamcyXaC6LrJ-CJoaG111rjclMiSYjk0M9Stqm5-oCpCCsRIBq6yB9nKZ-8dhEFymiYrybBZ37JwezV5jiHsp7kSG1XCQ4IIU6hCmlELFYcF6njYGw5uZ5CCVk/s1600/DSC01259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5y0ndg7hWbL08Y030lamcyXaC6LrJ-CJoaG111rjclMiSYjk0M9Stqm5-oCpCCsRIBq6yB9nKZ-8dhEFymiYrybBZ37JwezV5jiHsp7kSG1XCQ4IIU6hCmlELFYcF6njYGw5uZ5CCVk/s200/DSC01259.JPG" width="200" /></a>After all the games were played and all the prizes won, the whole group was called over to Neighbor Bob's for treats and door prizes - and a prayer together.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMbZbT_1rhXs6B-dvreFz90b5ao5UE-tJLB-MC2rVtMsXAHErXp5azamoNpF-faEReUkb6YrgvjlZqZl1RMFlPwHH4YHoTqIp3TgvLbKyqSAsNUkWW-zJqbppn2jhil3x_vwULnIV4Qg/s1600/DSC01329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMbZbT_1rhXs6B-dvreFz90b5ao5UE-tJLB-MC2rVtMsXAHErXp5azamoNpF-faEReUkb6YrgvjlZqZl1RMFlPwHH4YHoTqIp3TgvLbKyqSAsNUkWW-zJqbppn2jhil3x_vwULnIV4Qg/s320/DSC01329.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And THEN it was time for the teen helpers to get their reward! Backpacks, school supplies - and gift cards for Target for school shopping! </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yV5zkbmgeC3WgUFzjvwfLQ-o5Qhe-3WcFpGZVcvgcCf09yQHTSAx47buZW3LQEFArDhyphenhyphenWkgs6quVMExckefQC-6DQ-3JuklzFkYKgthnLCeiGK_zDbNptsjVoi8Ph6wip7dNgwIoqS4/s1600/DSC01334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yV5zkbmgeC3WgUFzjvwfLQ-o5Qhe-3WcFpGZVcvgcCf09yQHTSAx47buZW3LQEFArDhyphenhyphenWkgs6quVMExckefQC-6DQ-3JuklzFkYKgthnLCeiGK_zDbNptsjVoi8Ph6wip7dNgwIoqS4/s200/DSC01334.JPG" width="200" /></a>And then they were all gone, and there was a bit of cleaning up to do. Our wonderful donor and her adult helpers took off and the rest of us went to Evening Prayer at Fremont House! And then dinner. And then downstairs to watch a movie in the TV room in the basement. Something about saving whales. I was tired. Had trouble keeping awake. Life here is always interesting, stimulating - exhausting!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPmE2DFWmXGapDRvAH9CSrcKDlLyQaMEg8L6-7O37XEDSlb1LqlUI3Ka-DMdcUlubZpbNikGPEAbfmkQK9RfQTaI50kbS28O0LNRbcmJf6ui_Li8IwvWLaUmMxXXk5b1c6QWbFdCuFiU/s1600/DSC01338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPmE2DFWmXGapDRvAH9CSrcKDlLyQaMEg8L6-7O37XEDSlb1LqlUI3Ka-DMdcUlubZpbNikGPEAbfmkQK9RfQTaI50kbS28O0LNRbcmJf6ui_Li8IwvWLaUmMxXXk5b1c6QWbFdCuFiU/s200/DSC01338.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoTAsU2Uc_D2PntxITPDg1gkNo-Vmaau0uvMBLc9MRXab0vTeSHREZYwMv_BCZxe7wTNPaSnB6NyPkuIht-Q92Cuqvj-MlFcYNgRquaFdsQxIQgAvO8xAF2UwwGyKgXQHjeyPS38TqdE/s1600/DSC01339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoTAsU2Uc_D2PntxITPDg1gkNo-Vmaau0uvMBLc9MRXab0vTeSHREZYwMv_BCZxe7wTNPaSnB6NyPkuIht-Q92Cuqvj-MlFcYNgRquaFdsQxIQgAvO8xAF2UwwGyKgXQHjeyPS38TqdE/s200/DSC01339.JPG" width="200" /></a> But I love the way the day is framed and punctuated by prayer. It's a wonderful way to live.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">p.s. there were enough school supplies left over - and enough school back-packs - for us to pack up 35 more of them which we handed out today to those who had not registered in time for the party yesterday. I spent Monday handing them out and checking them off the list. It was a great way to spend the day!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/" target="_blank">This is my "Monastic Immersion Experience." Priceless!</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For more information on the Back-to-School Party, click here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/about-us/photo-gallery/album/72157630552792708/summer-family-olympics/" target="_blank">http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/about-us/photo-gallery/album/72157630552792708/summer-family-olympics/</a></div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-50375023859249544402012-08-23T13:39:00.004-07:002012-08-23T14:36:36.549-07:00Week 6 at Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis<br />
<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
</div>
<br />
People always ask me what I "do" at Visitation Monastery in N. Minneapolis. All I can say is that it really is nothing like I would have thought. I expected a routine of sameness - instead, each day is unique. The monastic rhythm provides a framework for a variety of experiences. In the picture above, taken in my first week here, you see two young boys who joined us for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on the first Friday of July. They had come here to work on a service project, banking hours toward their goal of attending summer camp. They came to the chapel for mid-day prayer with us.<br />
<br />
There were only the seven sisters, and me - and three young boys (there's another out of shutter's range). They had never participated in this devotion before, but Sister Mary Frances explained to us that they would be joining us for a short visit during our longer one - and explained to them what Adoration is all about. I was impressed by their seriousness and how they entered into the spirit of adoration of Christ present to us in the monstrance.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChYdH-a4ze_lGW0LpBFU1v_hlIgEznTfzJUr_hHnEOSV4I6DuxqDUyJnCbZ9IyN3UazmWOQRLPY9hF9_vvyNpP6bxFBbzXbMo8owrL4lSFCxWwwg6dd4PYRdSpA_0ogm2q1BqgaHiJvk/s1600/mass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChYdH-a4ze_lGW0LpBFU1v_hlIgEznTfzJUr_hHnEOSV4I6DuxqDUyJnCbZ9IyN3UazmWOQRLPY9hF9_vvyNpP6bxFBbzXbMo8owrL4lSFCxWwwg6dd4PYRdSpA_0ogm2q1BqgaHiJvk/s320/mass.jpg" width="320" /></a>Afterward they went to the kitchen and had some ice cream - then they stayed for mass when our other friends arrived. They told us how much they had enjoyed camp the year before, and how much they were looking forward to it again. The younger boy in the picture told us about his encounter with Jesus that previous summer at camp. He said, "I always talk to Jesus in my prayers, but he never talked back to me until that time at camp last summer."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Well, summer camp has come and gone - and the boys have come back to tell us it was a wonderful experience again for them. They were here again the other day for a short visit. And yesterday a different group of boys arrived at our back door. They had found a dying squirrel in the alley. They knew they should not touch it but using sticks they had helped it find shelter in a broken cardboard box - and they came to us for solutions. But we didn't have any. Except that we went out and looked (and, sure enough, it was still alive enough to blink at us.) Sr. Katherine called the city's animal control, and they promised to come by to take care of it. We never saw them, but the squirrel did crawl up into our garden to huddle under some shady bushes. (I know. I know. Don would have killed it and put it out of its misery. But neither I nor Sr. Katherine were up to that. And we really didn't want to in front of the boys, anyway!) By evening it was gone. We decided to believe that animal control had found it.<br />
<br />
<br />
The Visitation Sisters came here to share in the neighborhood as neighbors, in their words, to be a peaceful, prayerful presence in the neighborhood. We are not a social service agency. We do not have the resources to solve the great problems of poverty and social disorder that affect this neighborhood. But we can give a bus token to someone who needs to get to an appointment, maybe a sandwich to carry on the way, or even a paper cup of ice water on a hot day. And our neighbors help us, too - to till the garden, cut the grass, break down a stack of cardboard boxes that came packed with prizes for the Neighborhood Night of Peace so they can be put into the recycle stack. And we can share concern for a dying squirrel with some middle-school aged boys.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfvGCk5h4GxYBAAvWA5ToDLSsySHFy3cpVCs9M6YpVMRpYDmTbIjKhDLMpXFs8LF7E2U7H_IclhLQiJrSX2QYrSr3BvquAfbAVRa_g1ec9RM9Pti7qeVP3CIpcLKtafkVTGUWgBl44eg/s1600/DSC00986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfvGCk5h4GxYBAAvWA5ToDLSsySHFy3cpVCs9M6YpVMRpYDmTbIjKhDLMpXFs8LF7E2U7H_IclhLQiJrSX2QYrSr3BvquAfbAVRa_g1ec9RM9Pti7qeVP3CIpcLKtafkVTGUWgBl44eg/s200/DSC00986.JPG" width="200" /></a>A donor gave money to provide a bus and tickets so some of our families could go to Valley Fair. We packed 50 sack lunches, and Sister Mary Frances and Vis Companion Miss Linda went with the families (each group of children had to have one adult family member with them) for a day of fun at the theme park. I was one of those who stayed behind to clean up (and rather glad not to be one of the chaperones - I was never a fan of field trips when I was a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyz1Jaozxyy4qZIaSBag52-OoREp5fCrLyERpi2WTdjj03pIg1ABshbgQhJB8xVHL59RnDcFD6RZjZpAzDAgXL8uBw6YXyD4XDar8mXfxeYoyyHWeQgnKpJ1bDxAUezjPIeLGh5WIJv1g/s1600/DSC00983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">school teacher, either!).</span></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyz1Jaozxyy4qZIaSBag52-OoREp5fCrLyERpi2WTdjj03pIg1ABshbgQhJB8xVHL59RnDcFD6RZjZpAzDAgXL8uBw6YXyD4XDar8mXfxeYoyyHWeQgnKpJ1bDxAUezjPIeLGh5WIJv1g/s1600/DSC00983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyz1Jaozxyy4qZIaSBag52-OoREp5fCrLyERpi2WTdjj03pIg1ABshbgQhJB8xVHL59RnDcFD6RZjZpAzDAgXL8uBw6YXyD4XDar8mXfxeYoyyHWeQgnKpJ1bDxAUezjPIeLGh5WIJv1g/s200/DSC00983.JPG" width="200" /> </a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-63GP6QjIN5X2dfSjG6ZYX3LrlZKuEs2vLUoWTyobgYK9WRvQyGKmq-Tfqp4YoDH8Ir3YzSoN5JyDR1LnJWn8pGmtfKhRTKf7YemQTKhQhHIPNtYfuq5oPYT4n1lJFeMkxmNEEqvHRsM/s1600/DSC00906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-63GP6QjIN5X2dfSjG6ZYX3LrlZKuEs2vLUoWTyobgYK9WRvQyGKmq-Tfqp4YoDH8Ir3YzSoN5JyDR1LnJWn8pGmtfKhRTKf7YemQTKhQhHIPNtYfuq5oPYT4n1lJFeMkxmNEEqvHRsM/s200/DSC00906.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
We pray the Divine Office 4 times a day - 7 AM, 12 Noon, 4:45, and 8:15. Neighbors and friends of the community often join us in the morning, at noon, and in the late afternoon. I love praying the office with the sisters. We pray the office antiphonally - i.e. we are two choirs, taking turns singing/chanting/reading the psalms and prayers. There are pauses between the psalms when we do some faith-sharing - someone will speak of a person who brought a special need to the door, someone who has asked for prayer. Someone else will share a reflection on the scripture we have just prayed. And then we pray the next psalm, the response, or canticle.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bHw6EehUFvK0oiDfUhf7XA9RjiL7U_BzYgusC2qNIGCk_pCTNYQoyvVeN006TpLOMKcoQjon_5j0ByOfa5grZoTou-7PnXiCpUpaTbiI2yr_CmRWLPSQ7hgx2tSiAS3lw2-BHSgIWto/s1600/crucifix.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bHw6EehUFvK0oiDfUhf7XA9RjiL7U_BzYgusC2qNIGCk_pCTNYQoyvVeN006TpLOMKcoQjon_5j0ByOfa5grZoTou-7PnXiCpUpaTbiI2yr_CmRWLPSQ7hgx2tSiAS3lw2-BHSgIWto/s320/crucifix.JPG" width="240" /></a>The crucifix which is our center point is decorated for the feast or solemnity or season. The assigned person has selected songs for opening and closing which reflect the theme of the readings.<br />
<br />
We don't visit before the end of morning prayer; instead we gather in the hallway outside the chapel afterward, Everyone says together: Praise be to God. Good morning, dear sisters! Then there is a sharing of whatever information is necessary to begin the day - assignments, who has the car checked out out for when, a letter or message which has come in during the evening before, etc. And then everyone goes quietly about their business - fixing one's own breakfast, reading the headlines of the paper, or whatever is necessary for the day. There's not absolute silence during the day, but the house is relatively quiet and very peaceful. When the doorbell rings, someone goes to meet Jesus on the threshold! And that is what happens!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisu4UhCe6fbd3j1fCNujoGyQCQheMN83E_LxIU8psA1H7nKoUvXg2GwYp3Wok6rToah9fQ4P7ebsWZEgRHt1j5JSMeBsGCSkQhGkR57xkGuuw8RyNNa2C2Q18EDBGkrMQ219O7QMjV4ro/s1600/St.-Francis-de-Sales-St.-Jane-de-Chantal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisu4UhCe6fbd3j1fCNujoGyQCQheMN83E_LxIU8psA1H7nKoUvXg2GwYp3Wok6rToah9fQ4P7ebsWZEgRHt1j5JSMeBsGCSkQhGkR57xkGuuw8RyNNa2C2Q18EDBGkrMQ219O7QMjV4ro/s1600/St.-Francis-de-Sales-St.-Jane-de-Chantal.jpg" /></a>I have never lived in a situation where everything in the day, all conversation, all effort, planning, and the simplest of tasks are all oriented to the same end - to authentically "Live Jesus" (that's the Visitation charism - the overarching idea for one's whole life). I am impressed with these women who have lived together for these past 23 years and who hold each other accountable to the vision and charism of their founders, St. Francis de Sales and St. Jane de Chantal.<br />
<br />
<br />
They may not even notice it, but I do - that they quote from their writings in every conversation:<br />
<ul>
<li>Be who you are, and be that well.</li>
<li>Do ordinary things with great love.</li>
<li>The same everlasting Father who cares of you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. Either He will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it.</li>
<li>We are called to a liberty of spirit (something which includes obedience, but which excludes "constraint, scruples, and anxiety.")</li>
<li>There is nothing so strong as gentleness and nothing so gentle as real strength.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Sounds simple. The sisters here demonstrate that it is possible, as do the Vis Companions who share their spirituality.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am so loving it; I am so grateful to be able to share this way of living with them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
More to come . . . We've already had the Neighborhood Night of Peace, the ice cream social for National Night Out, two weddings, two funerals, and "Jazz and Gospel on the Lawn" (a fundraiser for Mary Johnson and her "Death to Life" ministry of forgiveness and healing. Things happen too often for me to keep up!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQG9uAS5pvvIiyafaJ0GzrgvUDgusn4RHJg6BOajQM7zT856phsbVrglvBp6Z_V5vAzpuSb1BSFPep8opgZOVn-iVAVaEf4wsmfxG1Cw3c6BB9MMKqfSUqGeQvL3_lm6EkH32xeNH9s4/s1600/Commitment.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsQG9uAS5pvvIiyafaJ0GzrgvUDgusn4RHJg6BOajQM7zT856phsbVrglvBp6Z_V5vAzpuSb1BSFPep8opgZOVn-iVAVaEf4wsmfxG1Cw3c6BB9MMKqfSUqGeQvL3_lm6EkH32xeNH9s4/s320/Commitment.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Oh, and there was a special experience for me - my commitment ceremony. I wrote about it on the Visitation blog, so will post a link to that <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/2012/08/monastic-immersion-commitment-welcome-marsha-west/" target="_blank">here:</a> </div>
Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-56136465998960374452012-08-02T14:44:00.001-07:002012-08-02T17:16:55.169-07:00I went to a funeral today -- on Shut Down Day at Visitation MonasteryEvery Thursday is "Shut Down Day" at Visitation Monastery. I asked one of the sisters this morning how long they've had shut down days. She couldn't tell me exactly. Certainly, when these Visitation sisters lived in the cloister, there was no such thing: the horarium, the schedule of the hours of the day, was set by custom, and was, for the most part, invariable. There were no "days off."<br />
<br />
Sometime after they came to bring their prayer and presence to the neighborhood, they became aware that so much involvement with others put their charism of contemplation at some risk - and they, themselves at risk of burnout. I'm told they began by assigning an occasional "shut down day" so they could have some rest from the relentless needs of those they lived among. Then they became a monthly routine. Now they are weekly.<br />
<br />
On "shut down days" a sign goes in in the window of the front door of each of the houses: <b>The sisters are not available today. Please and thank you. </b>They don't answer the doorbell. They don't answer the phone - it goes to voice mail. Theoretically.<br />
<br />
This has been an intensely demanding week. Last night's <b>Neighborhood Night of Peace </b>took months of preparation and work - and the last several days were extremely demanding. There was so much to be done. (More about that in my next blog - I'm moving out of chronological order here.) Suffice it to say that once the "Night of Peace" event was over last night, and the parking lot of Assumption Church and its kitchen were completely cleaned up, and all the tents and games disassembled, etc. a van full of nuns - and I - trundled across the city to Dairy Queen where Blizzards were the nightcap. Sister Mary Frances and I collapsed on sofas downstairs after that to watch the Olympics for a while. Others went to bed.<br />
<br />
On Shut Down Day, you're supposed to do whatever you like - get up when you want - stay in your PJ's all day if you'd rather. But Thursday is the day that Sr. MV goes to water aerobics at the Y, and it was to be my first day in the class. It didn't start till 8, so I did get to sleep in a LOT later than usual (i.e. 7:30 instead of 5 AM). We got back to the monastery about 9:30 and quickly changed our clothes to go out.<br />
<br />
<b>Because there was a funeral.</b> (I'm told that <i>most</i> funerals in N. Minneapolis - at least those of people associated with Vis Monastery - seem to occur on Thursdays! So not every Thursday is really "shut down." )<br />
<br />
We arrived at Ascension church before 10. The funeral was for "Grandma Aurora," whose bedside I had visited last week with the other sisters, the night before she passed away. We had prayed and sung with her in her tiny bedroom, filled with images of saints and angels. This 91 year old Mexican-American woman was called "Grandma" by everyone who knew her. She had lived in her own home in this neighborhood for 47 years, with her daughter, also Aurora (but sometimes called "Aurora Junior" to distinguish her from her mother. She's a secretary at Ascension Parish, so everyone knows and loves her.<br />
<br />
There were three priests and a deacon presiding at the altar: the present pastor, Father Michael O'Connell , another resident priest, and the pastor who preceded O'Connell here. A cantor with a gorgeous soprano voice led the music.<br />
<br />
The old church was packed. One pew was filled with members of Grandma Aurora's "Red Hat Club," complete in their purple and red finery. At the end of the mass, the pastor invited their president to come to the lectern to speak. A member of a local Baptist church, she's well known in the neighborhood, too - one of the respected elders of the community. She delivered a beautiful tribute to Grandma Aurora, and a tender word of encouragement to her family and friends.<br />
<br />
It was an exceptionally beautiful funeral mass - and I discovered once again how eternal the mass is. Every mass is really part of the one "real" mass of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection. We just generally don't completely notice it even when as we proclaim our belief in that doctrine. And every funeral mass - <i>The Mass of Christian Burial </i>- is part of every other funeral mass. I <i><b>always</b> </i>notice that. At every funeral mass, I celebrate again the parting with each of my beloved dead - and my hope and faith in our coming reunion in God's eternal presence.<br />
<br />
<br />
This week, my cousin Gary died. I will not be at services for him. They will be conducted at his cabin up in Alaska. But I will be with my family there in spirit. I wasn't at my friend Richard's funeral in Forks; it happened just after I left there to come here. But grief is still fresh; and certainly at every funeral since my husband Don died, I experience my parting with him over again.<br />
<br />
So I sat with my sister-friends who were grieving for their friend Grandma Aurora and for her family - and I wept for a woman I never really met, but at whose bedside I had prayed. I wept for her daughter who is becoming my friend through her connection with the sisters, for her little great-grandson who accompanied her out of the church, his hand upon her casket, tears streaming down his face. And for Dirk, and Charlie, and Liz - and Ronald and Mary, and my parents, and all the others who have been part of my life and who have gone before.<br />
<br />
And through the whole mass, I was so totally conscious of the communion of saints - those gone before, and those who still walk the earth. When we held hands at the Our Father, I was between Sister Mary Frances and Sr. Mary Virginia - but I was also holding hands with Donna and Cindy in Forks. And I'd swear I saw my family, my friends at home, scattered through the church - just visible out of the corner of my eye - and when I returned from communion, I sat next to Don and we held hands, as we often used to do.<br />
<br />
Afterward, we went to the cafeteria of Assumption School and had a great feast of pulled pork, refried beans, rice, sandwiches, and fresh fruit - the cafeteria was a lot bigger than the parish hall at St. Anne's, but it looked a lot the same to me. It was Miss Linda and her crew who got the applause for providing such a great feast, and I thought of Anita, and Cindy, Donna, and Mary Anne - and all those who have done the same at home.<br />
<br />
And then I came back here, put my laundry in, and stretched out to read, but fell asleep. I awoke an hour and a half later, finding myself still on holy ground, and thinking, I need to write about going to a funeral today . . .<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZeHylCayqO-tPkOXeJUSwO7Z4bH1vgWmQ7aYAqga_i9eFpb8c2PgMLag2ZJc1JwbzU1obeeTFDF2fJlUwdL9EUCQIpVDJupqVzhf1ylweuB0hrLKgDGHIsBeFVvnU26srxDP_2GL3bs/s1600/5029174007_8d57527da2_b_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZeHylCayqO-tPkOXeJUSwO7Z4bH1vgWmQ7aYAqga_i9eFpb8c2PgMLag2ZJc1JwbzU1obeeTFDF2fJlUwdL9EUCQIpVDJupqVzhf1ylweuB0hrLKgDGHIsBeFVvnU26srxDP_2GL3bs/s200/5029174007_8d57527da2_b_2.jpg" width="129" /></a>I have no new pictures for this blog. Some things you can't snap pictures of. But I wish you could have heard Sr. Mary Margaret read the first reading - - I can't even give you the reference right now, but the words jumped right off the page and came alive as I've never heard scripture read! Amazing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBdTBe2tNwmjisDdyby_CtkLQNMsjpAt0W7d8Wfhag9_K7vJ_-tImvbRrDCet7YoiN_ChC8LtnHMXNGfNonN93PHWj463Gij9i4LqY99OVqEDJ_WhDzRMZQ_CSuuuX7v0p-Nh7FmwPnA/s1600/DSC00920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBdTBe2tNwmjisDdyby_CtkLQNMsjpAt0W7d8Wfhag9_K7vJ_-tImvbRrDCet7YoiN_ChC8LtnHMXNGfNonN93PHWj463Gij9i4LqY99OVqEDJ_WhDzRMZQ_CSuuuX7v0p-Nh7FmwPnA/s320/DSC00920.JPG" width="320" /></a>I'll tell you about the Neighborhood Night of Peace next time. Here's a "coming attraction picture" about that:Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-58860518804525075332012-07-28T20:36:00.005-07:002012-07-29T17:29:16.839-07:00Monastic Immersion Experience - Sinking in!I have been here at Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis for three weeks now - and this past Wednesday a little commitment ceremony was held in which I made my promise to live with the community - to live their way - for the next six months. They asked me to write my own statement of commitment.<br />
<br />
Since I am the first person to come to Visitation for the <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/visitation-companions/monastic-immersion-experience/" target="_blank">Monastic Immersion Program</a>, there was no model or example to follow. I ended up writing several drafts - the process or narrowing down what I wanted to say was surprisingly meaningful to me - and this is what I ended up saying:<br />
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I would like to begin by sharing what has been my favorite scripture for all of my life:</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>One thing have I asked of the Lord, that have I sought after:<o:p></o:p></b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>To live all the days of my life in the House of the Lord, <o:p></o:p></b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>To behold the Beauty of the Lord,<o:p></o:p></b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>And to inquire in his Temple.</b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I always wanted to live in the house of God – which I originally associated with finding my right place in the Church – although I see it more broadly now.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">Another important thought has resonated in me since my late teens or early 20's – from the existential philosopher Soren Kierkegaard: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Purity of heart is this: to desire only one thing</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">. I've spend many decades trying to unwrap what that means.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xwOBwCVtB5yun6QDFNlph7BK6qULUFTWcQZpetLQbL1hwYP70KJ7GAh4tVhsKJGnELkLFu6CiZav5bmrOoY9hCr9g66XsZUl4AGZa6_IgtFpD0vM0QQM2-E3GaPiRuMd1Jgv_-yopQU/s1600/DSCN1227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xwOBwCVtB5yun6QDFNlph7BK6qULUFTWcQZpetLQbL1hwYP70KJ7GAh4tVhsKJGnELkLFu6CiZav5bmrOoY9hCr9g66XsZUl4AGZa6_IgtFpD0vM0QQM2-E3GaPiRuMd1Jgv_-yopQU/s200/DSCN1227.JPG" width="182" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">And it seemed to me that the key to living with singleness of heart, embedded in the House of the Lord, would be to practice what Brother Lawrence taught about the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><b>Practice of the Presence of God</b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"> by continually refocusing my attention on Him. I have tried all my life to do this – and I always wished I could do it within a house of prayer – with others of like mind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">When I came here last summer, I discovered that this is the place my heart has hungered for – a place where everyone lives every moment of every day oriented toward the presence of God - where all the activities and concerns of each day are infused with prayer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I remember asking Sister Katherine last summer when I first visited here: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">"What do I not know about you that makes you the way you are?"</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"> I know now what it is. It is the way you live these monastic rhythms, the way you have learned to be with each other and with the neighborhood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">That recognition awakened in me a fierce longing to live this way – I believe that longing was God's call to me to leave what I have known and receive the gift I have so long sought.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I am deeply grateful to you for inviting me to share this way of living.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I commit to you that I will try to live out of the spirituality of Saints Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal. I will cultivate gentleness and quiet within myself. I will enter willingly and eagerly into the rhythm of your common and private prayer. I will try to be observant about what I can do to serve the needs of the community. I will try to set aside my own agendas to work wholeheartedly toward your goals. I will look for Jesus in the faces of the neighbors and friends who come to your houses. I will listen and value what you have to teach me about living this way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I have a great concern that your presence here shall continue after you. I will do everything I can to tell your story and to encourage others to come see for themselves and to consider whether God is calling them to this unique way of iife. If it is too late for me to join your community, I will look for others who are younger and more able.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">The better I know you, the more I love you. And I am so grateful for the love you have shown me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I will try to make each day of these next six months the fulfillment of that old longing – to live every day – all day – in conscious awareness of the Presence of God in prayer, service, and community. I can't imagine any place where that might be more possible than right here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;">I commit myself, with God's help, to share your life in this way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, each of the sisters took one of the specific elements of Salesian spirituality, gave me the "word or phrase from it," and prayed a prayer of blessing for me to obtain that specific quality or virtue. Here are some of those words of blessing:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Mary Frances </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">chose the word <b><i>Hope</i>.</b> Sister Mary Virginia word was <b><i>Interiority </i></b>. . . (and she said we'd talk about its meaning in one of our conferences soon.) </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span>Sister Katherine said she chose, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are <b><i>companions on the journey</i></b>." She added that she chose that because "<i>I feel that you already carry so many of our Salesian words are already in your Salesian heart and it was appropriate to acknowledge that, by saying, "Let us walk together, encouraging each other on this journey."</i></span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Suzanne</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> chose <b><i>S</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>alesian simplicity: ". . . </i></b><i>something i pray for you to really delve into while you are on this phase of your journey. </i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know you have greatly had to simplify your life in order to even come here for the 6 months immersion...no easy task. i greatly appreciate how you have done that and how you have/are managing to do all you do and keep all your materials and computer stuff in the third floor suite at G</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">irard."</span></i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Sister Mary Margaret was not able to be there for the ceremony - but later told me her word of counsel for me was <i style="font-weight: bold;">Optimism </i>- and she reached up and traced the sign of the cross on my forehead as she said it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></i></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBNrZocVdwescG799ryZbm8p-C71qhS8rItfDI9FFix9MWdy7BmnNqaHVe8yri5xULdiK99FAF2TPmPK_-Xsm978ycCnuhitlgX5DZzhA0p06mMrg83_f4lxKEHYhsUuJihKdIlEJw04c/s1600/DSCN1228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBNrZocVdwescG799ryZbm8p-C71qhS8rItfDI9FFix9MWdy7BmnNqaHVe8yri5xULdiK99FAF2TPmPK_-Xsm978ycCnuhitlgX5DZzhA0p06mMrg83_f4lxKEHYhsUuJihKdIlEJw04c/s320/DSCN1228.JPG" width="320" /></a>So with those words, I am expressly admitted to the community - for these six months. I am embraced by lovingkindness. It was a deeply meaningful experience. I was surprised. I didn't expect it to be so moving. The next day I was still resonating with it, so I went out onto the back porch for some time for reflection. I looked up into the sky - and took the picture which is at the top of this post - this is a place which fosters contemplation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<b>So what is this Salesian spirituality that underlies Visitation life?</b> I have known bits and pieces of it from the past: the phrase "it's easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar" is extrapolated from the writings of St. Frances de Sales. He is sometimes called the Saint of Common Sense because what he taught is within the grasp of any sincere Christian: to live gently, trust the mercy of God, seek the presence of God within ordinary life, and let that gentleness extend to oneself as well as to others. Radical teaching - especially given the time period (17th Century, when Luther was roaring, Calvin was fulminating and the Catholic Church was anathematizing everything Protestant.<br />
<br />
Years ago I kept this quotation under the glass on my desk at school: <i><b>"There is nothing so strong as gentleness, and there is nothing so gentle as real strength."</b></i> I didn't know they were the words of Frances de Sales.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9Z3wFWhrWetaW9O341XhLf7yT0tlmszae5nN3TSUmFWDfiuxZ5A3UAXdbUrBXzHflFTHkJYyoXIITVcz4Rj1VvofUPTpkIIUM-8FRNhU8mE-ZUql_gs7QIojwLCceppTEgC2-xeAWV4/s1600/cross-in-hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9Z3wFWhrWetaW9O341XhLf7yT0tlmszae5nN3TSUmFWDfiuxZ5A3UAXdbUrBXzHflFTHkJYyoXIITVcz4Rj1VvofUPTpkIIUM-8FRNhU8mE-ZUql_gs7QIojwLCceppTEgC2-xeAWV4/s200/cross-in-hands.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
For all their gentleness, the Visitation sisters aren't easy on themselves - they don't live the kind of austerity and perform the penitential practices that were common in in religious life in the era of Francis and Jane. Instead they practice an interior austerity where they internalize the teaching of their founders. Their practice of Holy Poverty is so complete that they own nothing at all individually. The large crosses which they have worn these 400 years are exchanged yearly so that there is no attachment even to this religious symbol - and they trade their bedrooms every year - also in imitation of the Lord who had no place to lay his head.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGKSuIUofjsEmIbxE6DbD4DjhRHktgDa_ImtXkQ-FR1cFLCTlknrJ0pjfKLSRphlSXi4UhqLizJ1rsJc0_83XoDbR6mmEfqg8NXdnLgyyP0kcGGa-yHmhXFHopWN6AoHcib0JESyp42iI/s1600/482032_10151091122362628_629645256_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGKSuIUofjsEmIbxE6DbD4DjhRHktgDa_ImtXkQ-FR1cFLCTlknrJ0pjfKLSRphlSXi4UhqLizJ1rsJc0_83XoDbR6mmEfqg8NXdnLgyyP0kcGGa-yHmhXFHopWN6AoHcib0JESyp42iI/s320/482032_10151091122362628_629645256_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Everything that happens all day is immersed in love - and failures in charity are dealt with simply and gently by returning to the intention to "live Jesus."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">One of my favorite quotes from Francis is this:<i> If you happen to do something you regret, be neither astonished nor upset, but having acknowledged your failing, humble yourself quietly before God and try to regain your gentle composure. Say to yourself, "There, we have made a mistake, but let's go on now and be more careful."</i> <b>Wow!</b></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b> </b>A young married man who lives next door was given a booklet of quotes from Frances de Sales. He grew up in a a religious home, but has rejected his childhood faith in adulthood. After reading Francis, he came to one of the sisters and told her - his eyes filled with tears - "I never heard of a God like this one . . . "</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
In spite of the monastic "routine," every day is different because every day brings new people, new needs, new insights, new tasks to do. I have just come from Fremont House where neighbors are gathering to leaflet the neighborhood with posters advertising the "Neighborhood Night of Peace," coming up on August 1st. About 500 people are expected at Ascension Parish for this night of wholesome fun and neighborliness: there will be food, games, prizes, and sharing life. The event is co-sponsored by Christian churches and the neighborhood Mosque. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmSL-I14ni0&feature=player_embedded" target="_blank">This video shows what I expect to happen Wednesday night: </a> I saw that video last year - and that was one reason I came here - to see for myself.<br />
<br />
In the middle of the day a woman came looking for help. She and her family have just moved here from St. Paul. She and her four daughters have been the victims of violence in their previous home - they were robbed at gunpoint. The oldest daughter was raped savagely and sustained injuries which will prevent her from ever having children. The perpetrator has been tried and is awaiting sentence of 36-50 years in prison. But the daughter couldn't endure living in that neighborhood any more. So they are getting settled here - and they need "everything." So the sisters found some hygiene kits left from camp - toothbrushes, combs, soap, shampoo, etc. and are helping them find other resources.<br />
<br />
Today two young women worked most of the day at Girard House, helping the sisters with cleaning and preparing for the big doings on the 1st. There were stacks of blue special-event T-shirts that needed to be folded and stacked by size. They came over to Fremont and joined us for Evening Prayer at 4:45. <br />
<br />
Two small boys, 8 or 9, showed up, too. They sat on little stools, held the prayer books and hymnals, and at time for petitions, they asked prayer for a relative, Charles, who is in jail. They clearly understood little of what they heard - but they like to come and be here with the sisters. Sometimes they get treats. Sometimes they help out - I think they swept the back porch today. I think they really come because they know they are loved.<br />
<br />
So I am back at Girard House now (I delivered lemonade to be served by the leafleteers when they return from their task). And in a few minutes, I'll join Sister Mary Frances in the kitchen and we'll chop up vegetables for tonight's stir-fry dinner. So stir-fry veggies and chicken for dinner tonight. We're having a guest for dinner - a judge who presides in juvenile court - an old friend of all the sisters. And after dinner, time for a visit.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cVTVSD44ZfyYOr34nktVy3we0YaqCobmkYotqOOuxFaOHzfYiD1ZNqHdc6MtmtfVKGNU_z_r2BZpuqeLy_5xsSClwa3XTEp6AFhTaVQf5UXfbOQB6bRwy7sRzcXOCxhg0ijSYXFJ77E/s1600/DSC00900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cVTVSD44ZfyYOr34nktVy3we0YaqCobmkYotqOOuxFaOHzfYiD1ZNqHdc6MtmtfVKGNU_z_r2BZpuqeLy_5xsSClwa3XTEp6AFhTaVQf5UXfbOQB6bRwy7sRzcXOCxhg0ijSYXFJ77E/s320/DSC00900.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
And then we'll come upstairs here at Girard for Night Prayer (Compline) in the little chapel. (Which is now my charge. That means it's my responsibility to keep it clean and tidy and to change the decor from time to time.)<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZvWy816t42dHjW9IlG0ucLmRX50YELIxXRhrWadicriI1bdhxKVCUIaUGaMXCpDSdgPkZaAch1F_JozDuBj-JzvRWokVvSFGa_Gpn55-jMHTCMYx-OSLYhRwp9q2frFVrs8v_89vDcE/s1600/DSC00898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZvWy816t42dHjW9IlG0ucLmRX50YELIxXRhrWadicriI1bdhxKVCUIaUGaMXCpDSdgPkZaAch1F_JozDuBj-JzvRWokVvSFGa_Gpn55-jMHTCMYx-OSLYhRwp9q2frFVrs8v_89vDcE/s200/DSC00898.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I was pleased to see that outside the chapel there is a little holy water font and a plate that reads "Peace to All Who Enter Here." It is identical to the one that is part of my door-knocker at home in Forks - the one that has been on my door for 38 years this month. It was a welcome sight - sort of bringing together two parts of my life.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is Sunday. We'll have Morning Prayer at 8:30 rather than at 7 AM. And then we'll go to the local parish for mass. Then we'll see what comes next.<br />
<br />
We're having fish for dinner. We went to Pearl Lake on Thursday (the monastery's weekly "shut down day." We visited friends of the sisters who have a cabin on the lake - and we went out in a pontoon boat and fished for "sunnies," beautiful little fish with yellow and blue markings. It was the first time in years that I'd fished - and a very different kind of fishing than I am used to, indeed. It was the first time ever for Sisters Mary Frances and Mary Virginia. Mary Frances caught seven! I think we caught about 20 in all that afternoon. So tomorrow we'll eat 'em up!<br />
<br />
So this is my attempt to share what it feels like to be "immersed" in monastic life! If I were younger, I'd ask to stay forever. And for now, I'll just live it one day at a time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-58505549800624439962012-07-22T13:01:00.007-07:002012-08-04T17:29:03.632-07:00You can run, but you can't hide . . .They say you can run, but you can't hide. And that is true for me. I think one reason I wanted to live with the Sisters was because the church as I have been living it is driving me crazy. I became a Catholic because I love the Church. And I have based my life on that choice. My identity is Catholic. There's no place else where I can be me. But it isn't always easy to live with the shifting currents of ecclesiastical politics - and we are living right now in a time when it sometimes feels that the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aggiornamento" target="_blank">aggiornamento</a> of Blessed John XXIII is being crushed by a conservative/restorationist movement within the church. Sometimes it seems like others are drawing lines to define who can "be Catholic" in such a way that they draw me out . . . and these issues followed me from Forks to Minneapolis.<br />
<br />
In April of this year, the LCWR, or Leadership Conference of Women Religious, which represents the leadership of 80% of American sisters and nuns was presented with a <i><a href="http://www.usccb.org/loader.cfm?csmodule=security/getfile&pageid=55544" target="_blank">Doctrinal Assessment of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious </a></i>by the Vatican's Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith. The LCWR came into being in the 1960's at the request of the Vatican office for religious life. It is made up of the leadership of the major congregations of nuns and sisters in the United States - representing about 80% of all American religious women.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
Since then there has been a great deal of conversation (furor) concerning this doctrinal assessment and it's purpose, meaning, legitimacy, etc. on the national level. There has been a great deal of pain in my heart over this controversy.<br />
One of the reasons I have been drawn to want to be with religious sisters, to stand with them in their mission and life-style, is that I see them "being church" in the way I believe the Spirit has led us in our time - to inclusiveness, to empowerment of the roles of the laity in the church (and nuns and sisters are considered laity), to "engagement with the world," to the "spirit of Vatican II," -- all that captivated and drew me to the church in the early 70's. Since I have founded my whole life since 1974 in the church, these tensions within the church are very significant to me. I didn't "inherit" my Catholic identity - I chose it. I believed everything I learned at that time about what it meant to be a member of the Body of Christ, a part of the People of God, and a lay person called to full participation in the Church, to a "lay apostolate." And I bought into it whole-heartedly.<br />
<br />
It seemed logical to me, after Don died in March of 2009, that I should renew my self-offering to God - and that started something I didn't anticipate. Knowing full well that I am entirely too old to be a consecrated religious sister, I began to long for that anyway. And so began my "vocational adventure" which has led me to two different expressions of that hope. Knowing that there was no way I could become a Visitation sister, I still wanted to experience what it would be like to live this monastic life-style, embedded in a poor - and violent - neighborhood of North Minneapolis. So I came for the "monastic immersion experience." And I hope to find some permanent relationship with the IHM sisters after that.<br />
<br />
There have been two key experiences for me this summer which are at the heart of my adventure. I was privileged to attend the Mass of<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIvUAkAx2wF6cCh6hGLJsDd50N_eGLsMf-WkHuXx-ydrvMNlhqgExz-dPY4xYigGOhokzm1FIOq9d-4l8en0D6qD-2NsuzP0Ik7EPMbPm-GGIxQ0II7oMZjR8xL1RwpjaLbEg663gZOI/s1600/p1020961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIvUAkAx2wF6cCh6hGLJsDd50N_eGLsMf-WkHuXx-ydrvMNlhqgExz-dPY4xYigGOhokzm1FIOq9d-4l8en0D6qD-2NsuzP0Ik7EPMbPm-GGIxQ0II7oMZjR8xL1RwpjaLbEg663gZOI/s320/p1020961.jpg" width="174" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newly elected President Jane Herb<br />
installs the new Vice President,<br />
Sharon Holland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Transition of Leadership this summer at the Motherhouse of the Immaculate Heart Sisters in Monroe, MI. I was very touched by the great wisdom, spirituality, and the charisms manifested in that event - and by the homily given there by Bishop Howard Hubbard of Albany in which he gave great encouragement to the IHM Congregation (and to me): that they have done exactly what they were asked to do by Vatican II -- and that they are carrying forward the spirit of that church council. His talk has left me with renewed hope.<br />
<br />
The IHMs have been part of LCWR from the beginning, and several of their members have served as Presidents of that organization. I was encouraged by what the retired sisters had to say about me concerning this issue of conflict between the hierarchy and the nuns. They stand confident in what their lives have meant and why they traveled the road they have traveled in the last 50 years. They believe that the Holy Spirit has and will continue to lead the church. I left Monroe encouraged and my spirits lifted by the spirit and stories of these great women of the Church.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihoAsRQuHk_nGcDV_zS28vpdQ8axdLXJppR65nWm7HT999rtDrRTyaD78nG7PAShDI3bpabFCJpVYha8C8HHo3tmqzGTwv-mdpXiaM7SIGKQlTATbPj8z2g-2zVFxPh-eFi1Rq-Tod8No/s1600/VisSisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihoAsRQuHk_nGcDV_zS28vpdQ8axdLXJppR65nWm7HT999rtDrRTyaD78nG7PAShDI3bpabFCJpVYha8C8HHo3tmqzGTwv-mdpXiaM7SIGKQlTATbPj8z2g-2zVFxPh-eFi1Rq-Tod8No/s200/VisSisters.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(borrowed from their website)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Then I came to Minneapolis to stay with the <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/" target="_blank">Visitation Sisters </a>- who share a similar confidence in the guidance of the Holy Spirit. They left their cloisters in traditional Visitation Monasteries more than 20 years ago to found this urban monastery - under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, with the documents of Vatican II and its emphasis on the "engagement with the world" in mind (and a document issued from the U.S. Bishops concerning the "preferential option for the poor") and through a process of mutual discernment with their own Visitation leadership. Their Federation of Visitation Monasteries helped them to found their work here.<br />
<br />
I had the opportunity to join them on a trip to the College of St. Benedict in St. Joseph, MN to attend a "Study day" for LCWR's Region 11 (which includes North and South Dakota and Minnesota). Dr. Richard Gaillardetz, of Boston College, was the speaker. He is a historian who focuses on the history of Vatican II and the use of authority in the Catholic Church. His presentation was wonderful for me - since Vatican II ended before I became a Catholic, and I know its history mainly through watching TV and reading newspapers and magazines during the time of the Council. So what I learned was illuminating and helpful. (And I am now reading the books I picked up there: Gaillardetz and Clifford's,<i> Keys to the Council</i>, Massimo Faggioli's, <i>Vatican II: The Battle for Meaning, </i>and Yves Conger's huge <i>My Journal of the Council. </i>(Whatever topic engages me, I dive in all the way - I want to <i>know </i>what I'm thinking about, talking about.)<br />
<br />
There were about 3-400 sisters present at the conference (based on my mental math: 40 tables of 7-8 persons at each table). I felt very privileged to be part of their day - to listen to their speaker, to listen and share in their table conversations between sessions - and to observe their graciousness and lack of rancor, their deep faith.<br />
<br />
Some of you may have been following the <a href="http://nunsonthebus.com/" target="_blank">"Nuns on the Bus"</a> as Network, an organization of religious women who work to lobby for social justice in the political arena. (I missed seeing them when they came to Detroit and Monroe, but a friend is sending me one of their T-shirts!) These Nuns impressed me because they spent their energies SUPPORTING the bishops in their lobbying of congress for a budget which will provide adequate care for the poor and the marginal. Click below to hear Sister Simone Campbell explain.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Xd7W4rN-aXs" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
This one below of Pat Farrell, President of LCWR responding in an NPR interview on Fresh Air is crucial to understanding the difficulty that exists if there is not to be real dialogue: (It is audio only - and lengthy - but full of crucially important information.<br />
<br />
<embed allowfullscreen="true" base="http://www.npr.org" height="386" src="http://www.npr.org/v2/?i=156858223&m=156858294&t=audio" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" wmode="opaque"></embed><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
It is clear to me - after reading the Doctrinal Assessment - and listening to Sister Pat Farrell speaking above - that if any real dialogue is going to occur, someone better notice that the "real" LCWR views have been misrepresented in the assessment. My own bishop, Archbishop J. Peter Sartain heads a committee of three bishops appointed to supervise the "reform" of the LCWR. The other two: Bishops Leonard Blair of Toldeo and Thomas Paprocki of Springfield, IL have already made it clear that they aren't interested in dialogue. Sartain has a reputation of being pastoral and of being a listener. God help him. He's got his work cut out for him.<br />
<br />
And - great irony - my psychotherapist, Fran Ferder, who helped me to survive a personal crisis prompted by the pedophilia scandal in my own parish, has written <a href="http://ncronline.org/news/accountability/vaticans-assessment-lcwr-about-fear-not-doctrine" target="_blank">this article </a>about some of the dynamics that appear to be operating in the way this is being handled.<br />
<br />
For a person who's been a Catholic only a little more than half my life and who has lived it out in an obscure outpost in the north woods (i.e St. Anne's Parish in Forks, Washington), I am sooo enmeshed in these ecclesiastical politics! I need to be with the sisters at this point - to stand with them in solidarity - and to watch them live the Gospel of Jesus in the Spirit of Vatican II. Thank God for his kindness in giving me this milieu in which to live through these times . . .<br />
<br />
So I go to prayer four times a day - and chat the psalms and do the readings - and gain some distance and needed perspective. They meet Jesus at the door sill, invite Him in for dinner, peel potatoes, have meetings, pray for special needs of friends and strangers. And it all seems quite all right. I'm glad I am here.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*NOTE: There is another group of religious superiors, the CMSWR or Congregation of the Major Superiors of Women Religious which split off from the LCWR early on and which represents a smaller group of American women religious who have a very different vision for religious life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Note: I am also helped by reading <a href="http://notesfromstillsong.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Notes from Stillsong Hermitage - </a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-30139913320198054212012-07-15T14:13:00.013-07:002012-08-04T18:23:27.777-07:00Sunday morning - Mass at Ascension Parish<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mass is said here at Visitation Monastery about three times a week. Other days the sisters go out to parish masses in the neighborhood. On Sundays, they most often go to Ascension Parish, just four blocks away. I went with them last summer and loved it. And I went again today for the second time since my arrival on July 5.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ascension Parish is "doing church" in the way I believe it's meant to be done: it's inclusive, vibrant, down-to-earth, REAL. The music group is superb - a pianist, drums (of more than one kind), and a group of singers who are g-o-o-d! Including a young boy who is amazing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is no air-conditioning in Ascension Church and it's <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><i>HOT</i></span></b> in Minneapolis! Two big fans blow through open doorways up by the front - and that's where the sisters have headed both of these past two Sundays. Right next to the fan and the music group. This Sunday the pew in front of us was filled with children who, I believe, have parents in the music group.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIUYVDiEh6nMMO3rZBKkhuORlwdlurPdm1j5c4eLNYZ5zdWedWiLhMEqee4OUxbSyQUllWHHAKyoSDzbdoGJCjyFHSIP-dGOd2Cutpo0nuuL370UecxCjyO6FxHbuOXflPClxHfygaBA/s1600/DSC00844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIUYVDiEh6nMMO3rZBKkhuORlwdlurPdm1j5c4eLNYZ5zdWedWiLhMEqee4OUxbSyQUllWHHAKyoSDzbdoGJCjyFHSIP-dGOd2Cutpo0nuuL370UecxCjyO6FxHbuOXflPClxHfygaBA/s200/DSC00844.JPG" width="200" /></span></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I look around the church and I see diversity everywhere - old people, young adults, families, lots and lots of children, a truly multi-cultural church. The sign out in front reads, <b><i>All are Welcome!</i></b> and it's obviously true!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The pastor here is Fr. Michael O'Connell, who has served in some very important roles in this diocese: he has been Moderator of the Curia for the Archdiocese of Minneapolis-St. Paul (which he calls a fancy title meaning CEO of the diocese); he also served for many years as Rector of the Basilica of St. Mary, an enormous edifice which serves as spiritual home to 5400 families. In recent years, he chose to become pastor of relatively small Ascension Parish in N. Minneapolis where he has created a place of safety and welcome for all people in this neighborhood which is rich, diverse, and a place where violence is commonplace.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-sJ07h1uEaqvIoao3ROYcLoJ-V5ADI6NBS-L9_30M8VuUVPOouhF_zvMqCuEOzWMoqfTLSD7kzxxrfZLa7p5w0B39_mF8QnrVvI2opKlJ3qflq8dKUO5iqyl2q_HQABi6j72d_2xYcw/s1600/Ascension2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-sJ07h1uEaqvIoao3ROYcLoJ-V5ADI6NBS-L9_30M8VuUVPOouhF_zvMqCuEOzWMoqfTLSD7kzxxrfZLa7p5w0B39_mF8QnrVvI2opKlJ3qflq8dKUO5iqyl2q_HQABi6j72d_2xYcw/s200/Ascension2.JPG" width="200" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The church itself is old - it is lovely, old-fashioned, has ornate statuary and beautiful stained glass windows and Stations of the Cross. The picture at the right was taken as the the procession was beginning in the back of the church - the pews filled up simultaneously with the arrival of the priest, servers, and lay ministers.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwA8VPy3pXcWkI_M0dW2k5tFSWzCtj07bMN6S8BUijfJooZcR_mmANWNj9daIr7h83MvnPnTkm-woqXhvRvwmwu1rBXbpVOyA3ecFvIUMSLDDCxOkn8eYObJIHU36fgTHlyQlk5q7h_lc/s1600/DSC00851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwA8VPy3pXcWkI_M0dW2k5tFSWzCtj07bMN6S8BUijfJooZcR_mmANWNj9daIr7h83MvnPnTkm-woqXhvRvwmwu1rBXbpVOyA3ecFvIUMSLDDCxOkn8eYObJIHU36fgTHlyQlk5q7h_lc/s200/DSC00851.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The service began with the baptism of a baby: Caedon George . . . (apologies to the family if I've misspelled his name here). Father Michael reminded us - as he instructed this lovely little boy - that in our baptism we are annointed Priest, Prophet, and King. He built on that idea in his homily later - in which he reminded the community, quite solemnly and quite simply, that a man had been attacked and killed on the sidewalk outside the door of the church where the fan was sitting, just a few days ago. Two weeks ago a five year old boy was shot at 8:30 in the morning as he lay on the sofa in the livingroom as a volley of gunfire was sprayed into the house - part of a feud between gangs. And a little farther back in time, a 3 year old was shot when stray bullet came through the wall of his house as he was carrying his dinner upstairs to a "safer room." Father Michael spoke with sorrow and told people, we must be prophets. Our children are killing each other.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7BekzUxxKfOdrt4f6Xk7IBS_jQUuAEpOFdUvFN0pyYm33u8qxbxUleTO60esUqYUOuHxxm0mm1BvA8IHfBPxZF2B2Cyiy0JxGbHD9vPJpr7fLzE7wjQ0rB4KSIDZ7fJP9Vjh0C1KyfY/s1600/DSCF2888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7BekzUxxKfOdrt4f6Xk7IBS_jQUuAEpOFdUvFN0pyYm33u8qxbxUleTO60esUqYUOuHxxm0mm1BvA8IHfBPxZF2B2Cyiy0JxGbHD9vPJpr7fLzE7wjQ0rB4KSIDZ7fJP9Vjh0C1KyfY/s200/DSCF2888.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blessing of the children</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the conclusion of each service, it is customary here for the priest to call up all children and youth to the altar. They gather around Father, and all the people in the church raise and extend their hands over the children as he blesses them. Then the recessional begins, with the children leading the way out of the church, followed by Father, the servers, and the ministers. What a lovely custom. These children will grow up knowing that they were acknowledged and loved by the whole parish every Sunday of their lives.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This Sunday there is to be "blessing of gardens," so they all process out the side door into the church yard, where everyone follows, and all gather once more, as Father explains that every year, these "memory gardens" are blessed once more.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9QS4kuwaB-L6fRLH-BAfezvqL98VoSF1wbdDSoyLT6jSeJLlbCYRpsafMiWxnWjlM0xgh2vXb4qgoJlRc2R3wXaMtHWV165YllOMZGVtr6SYAZ1pAKtCK-GmQIqwuB6StFunkkyqHPc/s1600/gardenblessingLinda.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9QS4kuwaB-L6fRLH-BAfezvqL98VoSF1wbdDSoyLT6jSeJLlbCYRpsafMiWxnWjlM0xgh2vXb4qgoJlRc2R3wXaMtHWV165YllOMZGVtr6SYAZ1pAKtCK-GmQIqwuB6StFunkkyqHPc/s320/gardenblessingLinda.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linda and her fellow lay minister carry the holy water and sprinkle it liberally in every part of the garden as the priest and people pray the blessing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Then it's time for the ice-cream social! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">So now it is Sunday afternoon, and I have some time to write - but not everything I wanted to write! There is so much I want to share! I'll save for another day some of the other experiences and impressions of these first days at Visitation Monastery. I'll have to choose from some of these:</span> </span><br />
<ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I attended an all day meeting on Saturday with some of the sisters in St. Cloud, MN - Region 11 of the Leadership Council of Religious Women. Richard Gaillardetz, a professor of theology at Boston College who specializes in "questions of ecclesiology" (or how authority works in the church). He presented a fascinating review of Vatican II and related it to current church events.Morning Prayer as we drove north. I got a quick drive-around tour of St. Johns at Collegeville on the way to the meeting. And I won a door prize at the meeting! (Note paper - for those little paper notes we used to write before email. Remember?)</span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We had a young couple and their Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy - and a young woman who has been on a retreat at Jane House - for dinner last night. There has been someone for dinner nearly every night. Lots of tables to set, meals to cook, and dishes to wash. </span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Today two of the sisters are going to a baseball game (don't ask me who's playing).</span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Another sister left this morning for a family reunion out of state.</span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Another sister is returning tonight from a family visit.</span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Sister Karen made peach/banana sorbet for dessert tonight. (I might even learn to cook here!)</span></li>
</ul><ul style="list-style-type: disc;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">One of the sisters had news today of a death in her family.</span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I am thinking of St. Anne's and yesterday's memorial service for dear Richard Haberman. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And my daughter-in-law MaryBeth who is running a 5K in Ocean Shores today - in the rain. They will be starting back to California later this week. I am missing them already - and I'm not even there.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>My life is amazingly rich - and I am extraordinarily happy.</b></i></span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-32729112253302421872012-07-12T14:34:00.025-07:002012-07-12T15:11:06.733-07:00Looking Back at Week 1 - Visitation MonasteryI can't believe I've been here only one week - such a kaleidoscope of impressions and experiences. How do I begin?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXOf3mGIhnhsUUTlGvl8HP3HjdJrZtTsfEUxVaMXdheJaNlJQMmNTt1zxIaQnlSmXly5TPhShNPblUDOBsc855FK5ARJIUV12XLjEqNAQuFtbAfrvJjwMyRRunBrhp5nyAvLVI8pSXZY/s1600/Fremont.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXOf3mGIhnhsUUTlGvl8HP3HjdJrZtTsfEUxVaMXdheJaNlJQMmNTt1zxIaQnlSmXly5TPhShNPblUDOBsc855FK5ARJIUV12XLjEqNAQuFtbAfrvJjwMyRRunBrhp5nyAvLVI8pSXZY/s200/Fremont.JPG" width="200" /></a>First, to clarify: Visitation Monastery is one foundation,<br />
one community - but life here is spread out over three houses: two that make up the monastery proper: Fremont House (the original foundation - see above/right) and Girard House, down the street and around the corner. That's the one shown in the large picture at the top, where I am staying these six months.<br />
<br />
(It really is like one big house with a long hall between the two parts.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIQhacBb12W8BeJxkn4rnWndltdTmVbMwdD56_o3bVU1yY37456p84wcTqt7pxKFwLom9XXDsQJEpswoJxeqwvrNgqJnq-5oyV-vnvbx_2E1Gi5H0CX_8jhJVdYX7CAjioYzHzcwDMck/s1600/st_jane_house_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIQhacBb12W8BeJxkn4rnWndltdTmVbMwdD56_o3bVU1yY37456p84wcTqt7pxKFwLom9XXDsQJEpswoJxeqwvrNgqJnq-5oyV-vnvbx_2E1Gi5H0CX_8jhJVdYX7CAjioYzHzcwDMck/s200/st_jane_house_2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>And then there is St. Jane House, which the sisters rent and use as a spirituality center and retreat center. It's in easy walking distance also.<br />
<br />
<b>"Monastic Immersion Experience"</b> - a very apt phrase for what is happening here! When I made my other two visits here - a week last summer, a few days in March - I sat on the edge of the pool and wet my feet and watched. Maybe walked out ankle deep in the pool. This time I've plunged in, gone in over my head, bobbed around, gasped for breath, floated briefly from time to time, splashed and rejoiced!<br />
<br />
I haven't begun to get my bearings - but I am so full of joy and gladness! This is a community that is vibrant with life. Neighbors are stopping by all day. The house is full of children, babies, teenagers, young adults.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxX60MzCrrP9iDT4bAbjwuMYJkYcoBGuT3V8YjqUQcHNn3w3JQiOseLhMv9R5zulx7lNdUk2Lo6ZzAw8wfVI_bi0TIIGWidURwnEx1A-64DmEhOPjL3TaS16SgmE6UuiYm3bpmmSGpT8/s1600/DSC00818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxX60MzCrrP9iDT4bAbjwuMYJkYcoBGuT3V8YjqUQcHNn3w3JQiOseLhMv9R5zulx7lNdUk2Lo6ZzAw8wfVI_bi0TIIGWidURwnEx1A-64DmEhOPjL3TaS16SgmE6UuiYm3bpmmSGpT8/s200/DSC00818.JPG" width="200" /></a>One evening we had visitors - more than 20 young adults who work with a ministry associated with <a href="http://www.urbanhomeworks.com/" target="_blank">Urban Homeworks</a> - a group which buys and renovates derelict houses in the neighborhood. These young people - <a href="http://urbanhomeworks.com/urban-neighbors" target="_blank">Urban Neighbors</a> - live together in Christian community in these houses which they share with people in need of housing and to whom they minister.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB22-tvE0cXU96vbXKxhPmoc8rG-fNeLm0m11UsuNaDjnJCoWozLaKjbU_rbZhrpimb_8vCKHKXzjZNY2uYsYqj1oArFxYYANgAnB19_tCobOYoFBj7tA29OPUAYo4psyuEOexyZFunTc/s1600/DSC00821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB22-tvE0cXU96vbXKxhPmoc8rG-fNeLm0m11UsuNaDjnJCoWozLaKjbU_rbZhrpimb_8vCKHKXzjZNY2uYsYqj1oArFxYYANgAnB19_tCobOYoFBj7tA29OPUAYo4psyuEOexyZFunTc/s200/DSC00821.JPG" width="200" /></a>They come each year one evening to (in their own words) <i>sit at the feet of the elders</i>, the Visitation sisters. They ask the sisters to share what they have learned about living in community and sharing their lives with the people here in what they call the neighborhood of Old Highlands (or Near North) . This year some of these young people were just completing their term of service; some are staying on. They talked about problems of burn-out and how overwhelmed one can be by the needs one sees here.<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">It's hot here.</span></b> Especially the first few days - they were brutally hot - suffocating humidity. Then a few thunderstorms and showers came, and it became much more pleasant. I'm grateful to discover that my 3rd floor bedroom is very cool - good air-conditioning here. I'm making my way up and down the three sets of staircases that one navigates in this house with relatively little difficulty, and I'm trying to learn to think ahead about what I will need from one hour to the next.<br />
<br />
I arrived here last Thursday. Thursdays are "shut down days" here at the Monastery. There is a sign in the windows that the sisters are not available today. Each sister chooses how to spend the day, how to include their own private prayer time; there is no common prayer. We will meet for dinner at Fremont house.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAMDnMT0WtglxB9SuXy2fuAPynSEXp43ye9M6vFJBvFmBo0Ar5xiO49lr3WgFHUrQQ-FY9sZaXLwrohupyitQa0I1kWagwjxvdz3dzaVDr7eC6IvMh_4p7AvBquOdbnOVzTmgAzxmw3Vk/s1600/DSC00830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAMDnMT0WtglxB9SuXy2fuAPynSEXp43ye9M6vFJBvFmBo0Ar5xiO49lr3WgFHUrQQ-FY9sZaXLwrohupyitQa0I1kWagwjxvdz3dzaVDr7eC6IvMh_4p7AvBquOdbnOVzTmgAzxmw3Vk/s320/DSC00830.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I don't have a car here, but Fremont house is right on the city bus line. Sister Suzanne spent the day introducing me to riding the bus - and exploring the downtown. Minneapolis is a BEAUTIFUL city! I hadn't known that! A vibrant, well-planned urban area with all kinds of interesting things going on. I'm not a city person, so I was grateful for a guide. That's her above. I'm trying to keep up!<br />
<br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhbTlvOEwjWyNIndniv7bqvqjZB2nCKe6Nfxyaw6b8BswZyOyY8X5r0yzlmjzpFLg9udbVyyqVmWHtMqhsEz-cYtx3GQ6YsFtKQz_m8PY1m-Z4mkUWPj8BPiGeYaiXkK8hUFRmw_TZVc/s1600/DSC00824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrhbTlvOEwjWyNIndniv7bqvqjZB2nCKe6Nfxyaw6b8BswZyOyY8X5r0yzlmjzpFLg9udbVyyqVmWHtMqhsEz-cYtx3GQ6YsFtKQz_m8PY1m-Z4mkUWPj8BPiGeYaiXkK8hUFRmw_TZVc/s200/DSC00824.JPG" width="200" /></a>I loved being on the streets of Minneapolis! Wonderful place for people-watching! We had lunch on the sidewalk - and then I picked up my needed office supplies at Office Depot and bought a bus pass -<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9afemhdRjMym7OcDMSvyNZQY-tR1dHrkB3sxesAHohhuYXFUtfz5MW8LrWqHvfp_xhuFOQZ-d9SMIu3scsxxzkw9Mw88ShR5_ustSk4FRVYKBq5YkGpSpTzWWvsogqFCBlYIcLv-AI0/s1600/DSC00828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9afemhdRjMym7OcDMSvyNZQY-tR1dHrkB3sxesAHohhuYXFUtfz5MW8LrWqHvfp_xhuFOQZ-d9SMIu3scsxxzkw9Mw88ShR5_ustSk4FRVYKBq5YkGpSpTzWWvsogqFCBlYIcLv-AI0/s200/DSC00828.JPG" width="200" /></a>and we found our way back to the Monastery. I may get brave enough to take the bus on my own one of these days. Stay tuned. Anyhow, dinner tonight at Fremont - and until then, blogging, journaling, and putting away my new supplies!!<br />
<br />
<i>'Taint dull here! More later.</i></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-35938533277345570382012-07-07T13:59:00.009-07:002012-07-07T21:27:53.659-07:00And now I'm here! At Visitation Monastery in North MinneapolisI left Washington on June 29th, to begin a great adventure. For several months I've been making preparations to leave the home that has been mine for 38 years this August. I have had a wonderful life in Forks, and not one day has ever passed that I didn't thank God for the life that was mine there: the beautiful forest and rivers, lakes and ocean, my 27 years of being on the faculty of Forks High School, my beloved St. Anne's and all my friends there.<br />
<br />
I never thought to leave there. I thought it was God's plan for my life to live out the second half of my life there (the first half having been lived in California in the Sacramento Valley), and to die there. I used to joke about Don and I having take some sort of accidental "vow of stability" once we were in Forks. We did feel that was where we were called to be. And I think it was true. We "belonged" to St. Anne's. We "belonged" to Forks. We helped to raise two generations of young people there - and we watched those teenagers turn into adults and then into parents and grandparents! They became our friends.<br />
<br />
And then I found myself moving into new and unknown territory.<br />
<br />
My first stop on my journey this summer was to the campus of the MotherHouse of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Monroe, MI. I attended the Nuns Life Community Summit there at the beginning of July - a wonderful weekend with amazing women. I'll tell more about that later.<br />
<br />
And then, on the 5th of July, I came here to Visitation Monastery where I will stay for the next six months - my long retreat - my "monastic immersion experience." Another homecoming, another set of loving greetings. I have spent the last three days getting unpacked, settled in, and re-integrated into the life of these monastic sisters who live among and share the lives of the poor in this neighborhood.<br />
<br />
I'll continue this as I can - without losing my place in the rhythms of monastic life as it is lived here. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
<br />Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-66711092926363744802012-06-24T13:47:00.000-07:002012-06-25T13:12:56.420-07:00Thoughts on leaving home - and all that is familiar<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8UaHph32lDt04O2ht7nu7Dr0Hy0wGaZW7ZlJyXHYSj1jClflYQ_IrntM0GSqe4Dh1mcj267gaEgyq2vIqtw8pMEw0ig4Id7cEZvL6Bd0d9Utd8WgjLqE4Zpvl2ev6BplsnvTZJdVhEY/s1600/Girard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8UaHph32lDt04O2ht7nu7Dr0Hy0wGaZW7ZlJyXHYSj1jClflYQ_IrntM0GSqe4Dh1mcj267gaEgyq2vIqtw8pMEw0ig4Id7cEZvL6Bd0d9Utd8WgjLqE4Zpvl2ev6BplsnvTZJdVhEY/s1600/Girard.jpg" /></a>I am almost ready to set out on my next adventure. I will leave this week for the midwest where I will spend the next six months living at the Visitation Monastery in North Minneapolis. I have a couple of stops to make along the way - a couple of days with my sister in Tacoma. Then a few days in Monroe with the Nuns Life Community Summit. But when I leave on Wednesday, I'll leave without any keys on my keychain! Not taking my car. Don't need keys to my house since my friends will be living there while I'm gone. Turned in my church keys to the parish office. Strange feeling to not have keys.<br />
<br />
No rings on my fingers - those are going to live for now in the safety deposit box at the bank. My wedding ring is welded to my engagement ring and the beautiful 50th anniversary ring which marked that occasion in 2006. Seemed not appropriate. I need to travel light these days.<br />
<br />
I told someone I feel a little like Gulliver in Lilliput Land - a thousand little golden filaments have kept me in place - and as I've moved forward, these have loosened, till only those real golden ropes of love and relationship keep me moored - and they are much longer cords that allow me to move about and explore while still keeping me grounded to who I am and who I have always been. But the little everyday threads of appointments, responsibilities, duties, roles, and unfinished business - they are almost all gone at this point. That's been the work of the last several months. I can't believe it's been three months since I returned here from Monroe and Minneapolis.<br />
<br />
But my bags are packed, the bills are paid, the accounts are up to date, the desk is clear, and I looked at my calendar a couple of days ago. Every day for the past many months has been full of appointments. Starting with next Friday, my calendar is clear. I'm sure it'll fill up again, but I will be living on the calendar of the Visitation sisters, not on my calendar in Forks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYpYn_OJsVdSdGiZBxzsa9dg-vtreCMEMtQdfZyL676W4RV6RtMMUFvYW1lXipFpVIVyhdXWQ7tiNKIZXkBLRxX7bRqoRyxkWzXwqDlg5rs2oIDS6wOEIiVyJPWlEO13ijRE6xz-N6Hs/s1600/deck.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYpYn_OJsVdSdGiZBxzsa9dg-vtreCMEMtQdfZyL676W4RV6RtMMUFvYW1lXipFpVIVyhdXWQ7tiNKIZXkBLRxX7bRqoRyxkWzXwqDlg5rs2oIDS6wOEIiVyJPWlEO13ijRE6xz-N6Hs/s320/deck.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The sun was shining (for the first time in a long time) through my window when I woke this morning turning my Japanese maple into a glorious tapestry of green and gold. And I wondered, how can I bear to leave this? I went to St. Anne's for mass this morning. It was wonderful. So much love flowing. So much evidence of the Holy Spirit at work. I wondered, how can I bear to leave this?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOvsvkFKZZn-0qkWn2myoPJ3BKGXUgQrO0rkJisH_GN5FzckdktJVhJ6Iiu5b4f4u61-Mu9TRKdsJns-AJ4QAX8BKqpM0wiCoKvO1XpZbF19SFwU4Brcfsy-6MdaHGTlk58-dyn6h8U0/s1600/Fr.Mark-St.Anne's.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOvsvkFKZZn-0qkWn2myoPJ3BKGXUgQrO0rkJisH_GN5FzckdktJVhJ6Iiu5b4f4u61-Mu9TRKdsJns-AJ4QAX8BKqpM0wiCoKvO1XpZbF19SFwU4Brcfsy-6MdaHGTlk58-dyn6h8U0/s1600/Fr.Mark-St.Anne's.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The closing song was this: </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? </b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I have heard you calling in the night. </b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I will go, Lord, if you lead me. </b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I will hold your people in my heart.</b></i><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And that was my answer. I must go so that I can hold all this in my heart. Because Something, Someone is calling me to a different life - for now at least.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Pray for me. It's strange to be an old person out doing what is meant for young people - figuring out what I'm supposed to be when I grow up.</i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(That's my old friend, Fr. Mark Stehley at the altar at St. Anne's - taken on Pentecost Sunday. Today was his last day with our parish - and his leavetaking made for a particularly loving and beautiful service.)</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-82003891118149945762012-05-28T18:54:00.000-07:002012-05-28T19:20:56.990-07:00Living in/through the "in-between times"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9J0mlWU2qqxTx75lPowGiFaulcJATmMZJ8kVTp121BqV4dS5fxmnJGXoWHXDRw6nrAXH9cFxVNp-Lp73T1cNxI3CPCJh79dwRdv6aGiMCzqLa37A6O8i3o2Aaq7h_ow0Za4rYnF4CRE/s1600/DSC00382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix9J0mlWU2qqxTx75lPowGiFaulcJATmMZJ8kVTp121BqV4dS5fxmnJGXoWHXDRw6nrAXH9cFxVNp-Lp73T1cNxI3CPCJh79dwRdv6aGiMCzqLa37A6O8i3o2Aaq7h_ow0Za4rYnF4CRE/s320/DSC00382.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have had a wonderful spring at home in Forks. Holy Week and Easter at St. Anne's were amazing. Working with Parish Council has been wonderful. I've met the new priest who will begin here after I have left, and I think he is a great fit for the parish.<br />
<br />
My arrangements are more or less complete for my trip to the Midwest this summer. I'll attend the Nun's Life Community Summit in Monroe, Michigan on the grounds of the IHM Motherhouse in the first week of July. I'll go to Minneapolis on the 5th of July to begin my six month "monastic immersion experience. I'll stay there until after the first of the year. Then I'll make a trip to California on my way home to Forks.<br />
<br />
My present plan is to be here in Forks briefly in the winter - make sure everything is in good order for an extended absence - and then I will return to Monroe, MI to begin a long period of discernment and reflection with the IHM sisters about forming some sort of connection with them.<br />
<br />
People ask me if this is permanent. I don't know. Discernment is a two way process. It takes a long time. Since I know that I don't know how it will all turn out, I'm not burning any bridges. I'm keeping my place here in Forks for quite some time to come.<br />
<br />
I'm already old - and I have an unknown amount of time left. But that's true of everyone at every point of life. We never really have more than today - so all we can do is to live today in whatever way we feel we are called to do it. For me, that means that I must explore the possibility of some sort of religious life, for which I am, by any objective standard, far too old. So I will begin that journey in all realization that I may never arrive at any clear destination. That seems fine to me right now.<br />
<br />
What is hard is to live in the "in-between time," where one both loves and appreciates all that has been and longs for what still might be. I have less than five weeks left before I leave here. And I have much to do to leave everything in good order. I am loving sitting in my own chair, looking out my own window, at my own beautiful trees - watching the birds attacking the bird-feeders. I am sorting cupboards, drawers, closets, and the garage! I am loving sorting through the "stuff of my life," making decisions about what to keep, what to take with me, what to dispose of.<br />
<br />
When letters or emails arrive from Michigan or Minnesota, my heart leaps with anticipation and joy. My family is coming to spend time here during the last couple weeks of June, and I am so looking forward to that! Other friends are coming for visits in the next couple of weeks. My friend Sally says I am having a wake before I'm dead! Yes! I suppose I am!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rrJLXMZZy_7DObRd_T6ADiFiei6osEwPtPr2jlUHzLLEMndcEJhPJqVLtmV-Px9KE_VlMPkHaPGPRSEGS1ktsyNofkK12A5-9bcGUffHprVqzGCmI2ZUqKAR9am7QmFIFPGLjang97A/s1600/canstock8371006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rrJLXMZZy_7DObRd_T6ADiFiei6osEwPtPr2jlUHzLLEMndcEJhPJqVLtmV-Px9KE_VlMPkHaPGPRSEGS1ktsyNofkK12A5-9bcGUffHprVqzGCmI2ZUqKAR9am7QmFIFPGLjang97A/s1600/canstock8371006.jpg" /></a><br />
I have little understanding of how I came to these decisions. <span id="goog_523078133"></span><span id="goog_523078134"></span> I am a fish in the river, and a lure came floating down. I bit on the hook and took it deeply into me. Now I find myself being reeled in . . . and waiting, wanting to be landed on the shore. What comes next is mystery. It doesn't matter. The hard part is the in-between part. I'm not sure, though, just where past and future meet - maybe life is <b><i>all</i></b> an "in-between part" and we just think we know where things start and stop along the way.<br />
<br />
A friend sent me this poem. It has come to mean a great deal to me, though I can't tell you at all what the "whole poem" means - just that certain lines and phrases speak to me.<br />
It's called <b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Getting There"</i> by David Wagoner, from his book <i><b>In Broken Country.</b></i><br />
<b><i> </i></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><b><i> </i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;">You take a final step and,
look, suddenly</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> You're there. You've arrived<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> At the one place all your
drudgery was aimed for:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> This common ground<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Where you stretch out,
pressing your cheek to sandstone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> What did you want<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> To be? You'll remember soon.
You feel like tinder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Under a burning glass,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> A luminous point of change.
The sky is pulsing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Against the cracked horizon,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Holding it firm till the
arrival of stars<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> In time with your heartbeats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Like wind etching rock,
you've made a lasting impression<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> On the self you were<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> By having come all this way
through all this welter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Under your own power,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Though your traces on a map
would make an unpromising<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Meandering lifeline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> What have you learned so far?
You'll find out later,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Telling it haltingly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Like a dream, that lost
traveler's dream<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Under the last hill<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Where through the night
you'll take your time out of mind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> To unburden yourself<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Of elements along elementary
paths<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> By the break of morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> You've earned this worn-down,
hard, incredible sight<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Called Here and Now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Now, what you make of it
means everything,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Means starting over:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> The life in your hands is
neither here nor there<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> But getting there,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> So you're standing again and
breathing, beginning another<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Journey without regret<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> Forever, being your own
unpeaceable kingdom,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"> The end of endings.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 8pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAb373z4tXoOyYhDv6NcKaK48kIiEenhKkZLeU3soTZQp_cf_cECFtV_z7AKauMT9SnOm4i37CuQM1t4Zaboh_alBZwvSQvv-j9HszR-eX7oUeIMChKGBGuiBWHckkpmTlLyLq5VNel5w/s1600/14526720.thm.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAb373z4tXoOyYhDv6NcKaK48kIiEenhKkZLeU3soTZQp_cf_cECFtV_z7AKauMT9SnOm4i37CuQM1t4Zaboh_alBZwvSQvv-j9HszR-eX7oUeIMChKGBGuiBWHckkpmTlLyLq5VNel5w/s320/14526720.thm.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
<b><i>So I look at this and think. It's not about an in-between time at all. It's all about the journey, the "getting there." It's all about HERE AND NOW. Because that is all we really ever have. (Sometimes it means "starting over.")</i></b><br />
<b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
Stay tuned. There's more to come. I think, anyway.Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-60387473288875526802012-05-17T09:58:00.000-07:002012-05-17T09:58:49.737-07:00Total Immersion in California LifeSunday, May 13, 2012, was Mothers' Day. Where for some families this means breakfast in bed for mom, maybe some flowers and presents, in my family it is the time to get up, pack a picnic lunch, blankets, folding lawn-chairs, baseball bats, croquet sets, etc. and head to William Land Park in California. This was the 74th annual Mothers' Day Picnic there. It started with just my grandparents, their children and their spouses, a one year old Dorita and 4 month old me.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJN2rDlS7vXin2EeZJa21M0hfRBRMTpV31sb4mGLFbdahtZIGrGro5RKulvUkoB69qPjkCwYxdAoS48Qz9Cpmcb6gTIjV25p59YzANV4njrMD1-Anpzks7cY6pKHu0U7jh6kV3Qcy_cRU/s1600/535067_10150798959951945_628391944_9710490_1648562039_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJN2rDlS7vXin2EeZJa21M0hfRBRMTpV31sb4mGLFbdahtZIGrGro5RKulvUkoB69qPjkCwYxdAoS48Qz9Cpmcb6gTIjV25p59YzANV4njrMD1-Anpzks7cY6pKHu0U7jh6kV3Qcy_cRU/s320/535067_10150798959951945_628391944_9710490_1648562039_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>There were 53 of us this year - a contingent from each of the four branches of the family: The Roger Bingaman's (my group), the Lloyd Bingaman group, the Hugheses and the Cunninghams. In my group were two of my three children (it's a long way from CT to William Land Park, Pam, so it's OK that you were home at Marvelwood!), and several of my grandchildren. And two of my three great-grandchildren. Here I am with a group of my gang . . . Grandson David, granddaughters Carissa, Lizzy, and CeiliJeanne, great grandchildren Lucas and Topenga. And the red van that used to be mine that I sold to David and MaryBeth last summer.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriIrDR2Q7aduJuNVpiPPRYLhuvpZSl0e_6Zq0czAo-qcdLZNCdgUSlTOLMAIZEuCx6efTT4AdsUCXEXjBvrVJ2RAg-KzJkXrKUkCh0Su9QI7nIpKqSU_vQiLckE_Pt3gtaWH6y5AIFcM/s1600/2012-05-13_13-16-50_669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriIrDR2Q7aduJuNVpiPPRYLhuvpZSl0e_6Zq0czAo-qcdLZNCdgUSlTOLMAIZEuCx6efTT4AdsUCXEXjBvrVJ2RAg-KzJkXrKUkCh0Su9QI7nIpKqSU_vQiLckE_Pt3gtaWH6y5AIFcM/s320/2012-05-13_13-16-50_669.jpg" width="180" /></a>It was a wonderful experience for me. I sat under those great old trees and wondered if they were the same ones I looked up at when I was three - and ten - and a young mother of three - now an old lady of 74. They look just the same. They no longer have shrubbery growing down below - a sign of the times, perhaps, that we eliminate danger-spots. We park near the playground, within walking distance of the zoo and pony rides and duck pond, but I didn't go walking. I just sat on chairs in various small family groups, catching up on current events, watching, remembering, treasuring the past folded into the present. My 5 year-old great grandson Lucas is seeing what I saw so many years ago - so I loved sharing this with him.<br />
<br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPULonXjBcjoENH6yy0Adb3w5-MReTxQS_8grH4Oe2yDmebfwLdSKPCCjRLxStz5ZK5mZGQ7u4gB_AxTO7e1oPthR4bb07j-ETcmhWoj84JiAdbZ3_mIRRQBYKRQsdFjywM87jMRaXaB8/s1600/2012-05-13_14-49-51_889.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPULonXjBcjoENH6yy0Adb3w5-MReTxQS_8grH4Oe2yDmebfwLdSKPCCjRLxStz5ZK5mZGQ7u4gB_AxTO7e1oPthR4bb07j-ETcmhWoj84JiAdbZ3_mIRRQBYKRQsdFjywM87jMRaXaB8/s320/2012-05-13_14-49-51_889.jpg" width="180" /></a> </div>My Aunt Louise is the last surviving member of her generation, and still looking good at 95. That's her above visiting with my sister Pat. She stayed all day, didn't miss a beat, sharp as ever. (I didn't have time this visit for a game of Scrabble, but, then, we all know she'd win!)<br />
<br />
During the rest of my visit down here this week, I visited the ranch up in Arbuckle, the cemetery in College City, drove by the house we used to own there and where I had expected to live all my life. Another day I drove to Dixon and looked at the school where I began my teaching career. Had lunch one day with an old friend, one-time colleague, and enjoyed sharing memories from the 70's. Everything here speaks to me of my roots. I love crocheting together the various parts of my life.<br />
<br />
On my way home now to continue preparations for my six months in Minneapolis. Life continues to supply surprises . . .Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-38414037328794365962012-04-22T15:35:00.005-07:002012-05-07T09:24:14.256-07:00Home for a while - looking back - looking forward<h2 style="text-align: center;">How it all began . . . Grandma and Grandpa Bingaman with their eldest: Aunt Gladys.</h2><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAwx9YjNKJg8oTilmz6_ALNmsN_pOAPRBGy7Nqc1sl15xwAuyWhSSthrc0r_3mge0X4RS9SZ_GzTMqEgjJ2_E-brODMI7MN1Gf_Ca9i6Wf-EVElz3nP0NhwBwM3b57s4p9v53v2q2H80/s1600/Bingaman,+Gurney+&+Mabel+&+Gladys+as+baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAwx9YjNKJg8oTilmz6_ALNmsN_pOAPRBGy7Nqc1sl15xwAuyWhSSthrc0r_3mge0X4RS9SZ_GzTMqEgjJ2_E-brODMI7MN1Gf_Ca9i6Wf-EVElz3nP0NhwBwM3b57s4p9v53v2q2H80/s320/Bingaman,+Gurney+&+Mabel+&+Gladys+as+baby.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I returned home from my Winter Adventure one month ago today. It's good to be home - especially for Holy Week and the Easter season. But I am missing my sister-friends in Minneapolis and in Monroe, Michigan.</div><br />
I needed this time, though, for reflection and for thinking ahead as to what is next.<br />
<br />
I'm going next month for a few days to California for the 74th Annual Mothers Day Picnic for my extended family. The extended family descended from Gurney and Mabel Bingaman has met every year at William Land Park in Sacramento for our Mothers' Day Picnic. In the old days it was Grandma and Grandpa, the "Sibs" - their four children and their spouses - and we grandchildren, all 14 of us.<br />
<br />
What times we had: the great picnic dinner! Everyone brought fried chicken, potato salad, and all the fixin's. One year Grandma left her famous Sunshine Salad (grated carrots, pineapple, and who knows what else, in orange jello) on the kitchen counter in Citrus Heights. Someone made a trip all the way back to get it - because it was an essential ingredient of the Mothers Day Picnic feast. Deviled eggs - and snickerdoodles are other holy foods sacred to the feast.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9QEntVEkA65E1cP7HQ8Br3kGSSw5IkFQbMZaE7rvx7gqK3iq7bSgYGmP-qaC3M32N3s7aewB2ffk9XeDwFh3aaAoZcEGLCHo7AZEz4wCt06TVL6pzvzBKAULRel13XqD3RCZeFoOdSPI/s1600/Now.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9QEntVEkA65E1cP7HQ8Br3kGSSw5IkFQbMZaE7rvx7gqK3iq7bSgYGmP-qaC3M32N3s7aewB2ffk9XeDwFh3aaAoZcEGLCHo7AZEz4wCt06TVL6pzvzBKAULRel13XqD3RCZeFoOdSPI/s320/Now.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Then we played baseball. Croquet. One year we crashed a Sunday School picnic next door and participated in their activities, winning the three-legged race and one in which we used small wheelbarrows! The days were much longer then. There was time to go to the Zoo, the Duck Pond, FairyTale Town, the pony rides, the Rose Gardens -- we did it all! One year we saw an American Bison being born at the zoo. That made for some interesting story-telling back with our parents. Another time, we watched a naked man across the street run out and pick up his paper and run back into the house with it.<br />
<br />
And my cousins. My amazing cousins. Because we've always stayed close through the years - - especially those closest to us in age. My group were the oldest: Dorita, myself, and Jeri were the leaders of the tribe. Anita, Linda, Joanne, and my sister Pat were our lieutenants. I don't know all their children and grandchildren as well as I'd like to, but I love that we still gather. I love that we want to be together at that time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSAd6pCjPdBgvLvn3gvLtTNL8Aht8gxZaV1PWqMQjt_0S9F4WFcKRc4onydf66D1dld-BfwCN2c-SGvuWDvAmz8tveIsoUCyL3PpTN5oAtgYMSGsHIjMFcdv3WQU8LXwBeZGOPgBWl84/s1600/n625970871_77981_4502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSAd6pCjPdBgvLvn3gvLtTNL8Aht8gxZaV1PWqMQjt_0S9F4WFcKRc4onydf66D1dld-BfwCN2c-SGvuWDvAmz8tveIsoUCyL3PpTN5oAtgYMSGsHIjMFcdv3WQU8LXwBeZGOPgBWl84/s320/n625970871_77981_4502.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not all of us - but most of us - in 2004.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The family grew. Boyfriends and girlfriends were brought to meet the family. People got married. And divorced. And remarried. Children were born. And grandchildren. The days got shorter. Now it seems that there is barely time to get to the park (we always use the same space and reserve it months ahead), unpack the food, eat it, and sit in little clusters together to visit - and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>then it's time to leave already. But it still goes on.<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4naz7Q7wy__KOZWhrMtWpEli1kt_CeOFL4wrwbUuSQILYDyBJfdoS5GYupa-7E3p2nTqtoN3QQy1mQFhLm_y6Ipm4HPkC5Y_8b9yuLogpGRClOzQVg70miYm9FUP_zWVk2XNdYW0bDZQ/s1600/P1010085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4naz7Q7wy__KOZWhrMtWpEli1kt_CeOFL4wrwbUuSQILYDyBJfdoS5GYupa-7E3p2nTqtoN3QQy1mQFhLm_y6Ipm4HPkC5Y_8b9yuLogpGRClOzQVg70miYm9FUP_zWVk2XNdYW0bDZQ/s320/P1010085.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Sibs" when they were all still with us. <br />
Aunt Louise is still here - and looking great!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQUmLL8hN8LnAQYNHIGkKg3Yw0fuK30vzpzwQ3dzKsUicCfSzA6xfakU9hzJkGDYFNq2thoPbgxKr-KgxBYDriOmfrArJhwpkbByz1fYtKc7rd7Bho2MAfT10mbsx6s6U-0LYyBJbwRw/s1600/Thisone.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQUmLL8hN8LnAQYNHIGkKg3Yw0fuK30vzpzwQ3dzKsUicCfSzA6xfakU9hzJkGDYFNq2thoPbgxKr-KgxBYDriOmfrArJhwpkbByz1fYtKc7rd7Bho2MAfT10mbsx6s6U-0LYyBJbwRw/s320/Thisone.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2009 - Me with great-granddaughter Jazzy on the left<br />
and granddaughter CeiliJeanne on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This year I'm looking forward to a visit with my grandson David Jeremy and his two children, and several of my other grandchildren - including Katherine and my great-granddaughter Jasmine. </div>And then when that is over, I'll return to Forks, and await the arrival of some of my children and grandchildren for a visit in June.<br />
<br />
And then I'm off to Minneapolis for my "Monastic Immersion Experience." I never knew I was going to have such a great time when I got old.<br />
If I had known, I'd have tried to get here sooner!Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-41208547725119284512012-03-31T11:36:00.002-07:002012-03-31T11:38:30.598-07:00Home for Holy Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmYlbGWyCA2x0MOAmKeqx4JjI6lZhheXNovdgaSm_NzSlIkCGvhp84ZZqURdgrPM-BqYeQj6DyYB6sIZElBJigZtPiY5EZqqo4OzmIcR2O1-7MhNxTrHz96h7BmqrqtAv1d5Si5e1oCY/s1600/palm-sunday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmYlbGWyCA2x0MOAmKeqx4JjI6lZhheXNovdgaSm_NzSlIkCGvhp84ZZqURdgrPM-BqYeQj6DyYB6sIZElBJigZtPiY5EZqqo4OzmIcR2O1-7MhNxTrHz96h7BmqrqtAv1d5Si5e1oCY/s1600/palm-sunday.jpg" /></a></div><h2>Today is Palm Sunday -<br />
and Holy Week, the most important week of the year for me, is just ahead.</h2> I am glad to be at home for this week - I've always tried to arrange my schedule to be in my home parish for the Triduum - the "three days" that, together, are the movement toward Easter: Holy Thursday when we celebrate the institution of the Lord's Supper or Eucharist, Good Friday when we mark the crucifixion of our Lord, and the Mass of the New Fire at the Easter Vigil on Saturday night.<br />
<br />
Holy Week has been a time of special events in my life. I came into the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil of 1974. The deaths of several dear friends - Carol, Dirk, and Liz -occurred during Holy Weeks. I buried my husband Don on Tuesday of Holy Week in 2009. So I always walk from Palm Sunday to Easter with a lot of significant memories in my heart.<br />
<br />
I've always thought we did the Triduum very well at St. Anne's in Forks. We have a great fondness for our particular rituals. I don't know where I will be in subsequent Holy Weeks, but I'm glad to be home this year.<br />
<br />
I am particularly looking forward to the Veneration of the Cross on Good Friday when the great cross Dirk built will be uncovered as the choir sings: <i>Behold the Wood of the Cross; </i>two of his daughters will come up through the darkened church to hammer in the great spikes while Sally sings <i>Were You There When They Crucified My Lord? </i>Every time we do this, I'm again caught up in the mystery.<br />
<br />
I'm glad to be a Catholic. I need these signs and symbols and profound re-enactments to help me be present to the most important realities.<br />
<i style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #001f30; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></i>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-19412339628519445202012-03-23T17:26:00.018-07:002012-03-25T22:44:06.759-07:00Life at Visitation Monastery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYa-U8P2hcEke_kT9W15WWP39gN7h6eA4SoU2iDpRJMpb8txqVUq_YV96_FjUSVz9VlqNwgByvfyMVObotqt36iDjPzZLH5F6s3w2epESuNZgmAa4P5KCfX-kdu5U8CftVs22N0vEu84/s1600/window-268x300_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYa-U8P2hcEke_kT9W15WWP39gN7h6eA4SoU2iDpRJMpb8txqVUq_YV96_FjUSVz9VlqNwgByvfyMVObotqt36iDjPzZLH5F6s3w2epESuNZgmAa4P5KCfX-kdu5U8CftVs22N0vEu84/s400/window-268x300_2.jpg" width="356" /></a></div><br />
No one ever really knows what lies ahead - but, at this point, I have been accepted to Visitation Monastery's <b><i><a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/visitation-companions/monastic-immersion-experience/" target="_blank">Monastic Immersion Experience</a></i></b>, for a six month stay with them. I don't know exactly when I will begin or end my stay there. I do know that it will not be a permanent stay. After that - another adventure - but one that still remains a little cloudy and uncertain for me.<br />
<br />
<h3>I asked them once: what do I not know about you that makes you what you are?</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-F9UuiBZhCZLIcNeviS1cdgo7rrkWpqlFoMKM4Bj1ko2tsRAyLcbCjJOQGyPjWkAPbcqAjuNmPAbOh05lkWVCoW8T11LGD18zO7Q-xBA6-nYrbJq_uMnH_2AYc8UeduDsODctkIdpUw/s1600/DSC00717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-F9UuiBZhCZLIcNeviS1cdgo7rrkWpqlFoMKM4Bj1ko2tsRAyLcbCjJOQGyPjWkAPbcqAjuNmPAbOh05lkWVCoW8T11LGD18zO7Q-xBA6-nYrbJq_uMnH_2AYc8UeduDsODctkIdpUw/s320/DSC00717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
I have asked myself why I am so desiring to make this stay with the Visitation sisters. There is something in their life that draws me powerfully: the way they live that "peaceful presence," in the neighborhood; their gentle<a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/about-us/salesian-spirituality/" target="_blank"> Salesian spirituality</a>; the quiet and peace of their house; the rhythm of monastic prayer that undergirds each day. There is something for me there that I have long desired without even knowing it.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPKdUMSfn686oolnn4HeGULzv55y86WGRQzhqgLSXBuoAoyffYYTXOnsIjSM3WyJleubFkNB7XZ8uEjax-IYvi-JDtYjV2637mi9pVLp9nRnfrmGCIIg_SKM-h7JkT8lF9FBrc1vaSU0/s1600/DSC00726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPKdUMSfn686oolnn4HeGULzv55y86WGRQzhqgLSXBuoAoyffYYTXOnsIjSM3WyJleubFkNB7XZ8uEjax-IYvi-JDtYjV2637mi9pVLp9nRnfrmGCIIg_SKM-h7JkT8lF9FBrc1vaSU0/s320/DSC00726.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Two young women stopped by one<br />
afternoon. They grew up in the<br />
neighborhood - and they wanted to<br />
show off their babies to the sisters.<br />
<br />
They used to come play at the monastery<br />
when they were children - whenever<br />
the windsock was flying from the front porch.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAVFFRV32Und6cyxJW2KE8WHZhXrx7ZvVC4KFjLoq1nQL6PoRHe3kGM-CEXTwiifbzyXvqKmVwNaDjw-AQIgIe9_4fpcCHjMiB7BYkf3ZeWMtqH0EevLx-74S6BEdBbZwQfntbHzxjgc/s1600/DSC00728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAVFFRV32Und6cyxJW2KE8WHZhXrx7ZvVC4KFjLoq1nQL6PoRHe3kGM-CEXTwiifbzyXvqKmVwNaDjw-AQIgIe9_4fpcCHjMiB7BYkf3ZeWMtqH0EevLx-74S6BEdBbZwQfntbHzxjgc/s320/DSC00728.JPG" width="320" /></a> If I were younger, I'd apply for admission there and commit the rest of my life to carrying on <a href="http://www.visitationmonasteryminneapolis.org/about-us/history/" target="_blank">what they have begun there</a> - but it's younger women that are needed for that. It's a wonderful way to live the gospel. It makes me feel young just to be there and to be part of each day's activities. The pulse of life there is so strong, so vital, so full of the presence of God in the lives of ordinary people in the neighborhood. And there are so many wonderful people who share in their work. </div><h3><br />
</h3><h3>An Evening at Jane House - Leadership Training</h3>I spent a wonderful evening at a training session at Jane House where folks from the neighborhood are learning ways to combine leadership skills with that beautiful Salesian spirituality. People are being empowered to bring gospel values and behavior to the streets and homes of N. Minneapolis<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzTmPO54-hogUa_Q8eoupk_zifyJxVMGoBr_lDw-dDoydR-K5Ch-4pqDFCh4Us9Jeisdg5OmKYVZ-AZoNWThUje0k8hoFyYXtK5rtCfkgHYhLYZt5Q_j1Pw10lN5n4bYCvBXctG3Xv10/s1600/DSC00731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzTmPO54-hogUa_Q8eoupk_zifyJxVMGoBr_lDw-dDoydR-K5Ch-4pqDFCh4Us9Jeisdg5OmKYVZ-AZoNWThUje0k8hoFyYXtK5rtCfkgHYhLYZt5Q_j1Pw10lN5n4bYCvBXctG3Xv10/s400/DSC00731.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>The evening begins with a shared meal prepared by some of the participants.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwAz93NLyvmm8tHg88ltNky-1sq6Xuyh0wsPtHFG0WwxQjXVbBG_tZsjZ2NYoS0A5NG5yuner_V9o_vdFj8OgMdAbOq6CNQpjFMcdLhU6ZbrKWMVZYkH4zpi2hSTqKF5oMr3eur6cXwA/s1600/DSC00735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwAz93NLyvmm8tHg88ltNky-1sq6Xuyh0wsPtHFG0WwxQjXVbBG_tZsjZ2NYoS0A5NG5yuner_V9o_vdFj8OgMdAbOq6CNQpjFMcdLhU6ZbrKWMVZYkH4zpi2hSTqKF5oMr3eur6cXwA/s200/DSC00735.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7MUeRPyTF10q_Bdyp8zv8XF2kxM5aQfBTnBXjaIPppmChV6pzmFhk2f2aS8PRJ5zWkI7r463Tuh6ggHQ1E_44yMwOwQJcSZS1q6-m-JJ43qpR5JadssynMRhvMiASZRmQccnJTHorJ4/s1600/DSC00733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7MUeRPyTF10q_Bdyp8zv8XF2kxM5aQfBTnBXjaIPppmChV6pzmFhk2f2aS8PRJ5zWkI7r463Tuh6ggHQ1E_44yMwOwQJcSZS1q6-m-JJ43qpR5JadssynMRhvMiASZRmQccnJTHorJ4/s200/DSC00733.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
And then there is prayer and sharing from life experiences - and application of the teaching of St. Frances de Sales to the practical realities of life in N. Minneapolis.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">I want to learn from them - the sisters and their neighbors - how to live that way - wherever I am.</div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3028105884016535556.post-84072712082720694792012-03-21T18:27:00.000-07:002012-03-21T18:27:27.584-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0t1qqhGekundUz_KRlg8zNikcrOj2H0hVCKZAv-ON9AmRKi_3Et_ncaiPOFauEV-rUsquoUdI8XmZqfP8kZIunLYDd7HsKuiqeVHJ1oqGBnzPhZqhw-Ksk3HTWCd4BvBkvRf_U0xplWI/s1600/Picture+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0t1qqhGekundUz_KRlg8zNikcrOj2H0hVCKZAv-ON9AmRKi_3Et_ncaiPOFauEV-rUsquoUdI8XmZqfP8kZIunLYDd7HsKuiqeVHJ1oqGBnzPhZqhw-Ksk3HTWCd4BvBkvRf_U0xplWI/s320/Picture+1.png" width="310" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Come back soon - and I'll tell you all about the next stage of the story. For now, just know that God has done great things for me . . . and I am feeling very blessed.</div>Marsha B Westhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178802916209413889noreply@blogger.com5