Praying Out Loud in the Presence of Others

Dear Friends.

Each person has a secret spiritual life. I have come to believe this is a closely guarded secret for many, but over the years, I have experienced unplanned leaks of this human truth.

One day last week, Fr. Jim Lawlor and I took Communion with us as we went for a pastoral visit to a long-time friend who was recovering from a fall. After Communion, Fr. Jim was about to offer a closing prayer, when our friend began to pray out loud. Hers was a prayer that was warm and personal. It embraced God, expressed gratitude, and was marked by peacefulness, and openness to the future. This was a profound moment for all of us, including the woman’s caregiver who was with us. Our friend wondered afterwards why we always left the prayers to the priest. I wonder that too. There is nothing in Jesus’ words or ministry that limited who could pray in public or private moments.

I can think of my grandparents who surrounded themselves with icons or who made time to pray after lunch or supper. Many are the times I found my mother’s rosary in her bed in the morning. My father was one of the early Communion ministers in his parish, invited for who he was to people.

Whom do you recall seeing, hearing pray, in unexpected moments? Have you revealed these blessings out loud yourself?

It takes a certain confidence in God to pray out loud or to stand in a place where your ministry of prayer is seen. We might think, “Lord, I am not worthy,” but that was also the thought of the centurion who came to Jesus seeking healing for his boy (Matthew 8.8). Jesus did not judge the centurion’s worthiness, nor does the prayer that wells up inside us have to do with our worthiness. Instead, everything depends on God, who holds each of us close – without exception. At times, when we are talking with someone who is stressed or sad or at a loss to know what to do next, ask that person if you could pray together for a few moments. If the person says yes, let the words roll out of you. They are a gift of the Holy Spirit, who pray in us when we do not know how to pray.

Through Baptism, believers have been given many gifts, including the gift of articulating prayer in the presence of others. Let’s not be afraid to do that.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

What is the Cross?

Dear Friends,

Suppose that the TV game show Jeopardy! had a Final Jeopardy! category titled

2025 New York Times Headlines

And suppose the clue, the Jeopardy answer, was

A hot accessory, at the intersection of faith and culture.

What is the winning question?

What is the cross?

In April 2025 a New York Times writer explored the multiple meanings that the cross symbol can hold. The September 14 Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is an apt time to reflect on the cross, its multiple meanings, and the meaning of the cross for you and for your neighbors in 2025.

This blog post consists of a series of possible answers to that question. As you read them, ask yourself what the cross means to you. Open yourself to the meanings the symbol may hold for Christians, for believers of other faiths, for historians, for artists, for the angry, for the faith-filled. Ask yourself the Final Jeopardy! question: What is the cross?

• A cover decoration on a well-worn prayer book
• A jeweled museum exhibition piece
• A First Communion gift
• A family heirloom on a dining room wall
• A logo for an international relief organization
• A Roman instrument of torture and execution
• A prehistoric symbol on a cave wall
• A gold necklace worn by a government spokesperson
• A roadside commemoration of a traffic death
• A fiery sign of KKK racial hatred
• A terrifying reminder of first people’s extinction
• A bedazzled decoration on a denim jacket
• A logo on a communion vessel
• A comforting symbol of Jesus’s death and rising

Reflecting with you,
Susan Schantz SSJ

Looking at the Cross in Anticipation of the Triumph

Dear Friends,

Today I am thinking ahead. Next Sunday, we celebrate the Triumph of the Holy Cross. This week, I invite you to look at the cross. See it wherever you go. Observe how people value it or not. Bless others with the sign of the cross, whether they know it or not. Do all these things, so that you will be able to celebrate next week’s feast with new insight.

The only other time during the year that the cross is highlighted is Good Friday, when it is carried through the church with great reverence and the cantor sings

Behold! Behold! The wood of the cross on which has hung our salvation. And we in the congregations sing: O Come, let us adore Him.

At that liturgy, we do come forward to reverence the cross. Some touch it, kneel before it, bow their heads. In one poignant moment, a father lifted up his infant son to touch his forehead to the cross. Some believers, like this father, have internalized the meaning of the cross: it is the revelation of a God who suffers that we may be redeemed.

Christians do a risky thing when we see the death of Jesus on the cross as an act of liberation, deliverance, of the conquest of the forces of death and bondage. We believe, against all evidence, that death is not the last word, yet death is necessary if the resurrection is to have meaning.

During the long summer after Holy Week, it would be easy for believers to forget what a wondrous meaning the cross embodies.

The Anglican theologian Ken Leech reminds us that “Over the centuries, both the visual symbols and the words associated with the cross have changed and become more focused more on the anguish, the blood and the wounds, and on the personal contemplation of Christ’s suffering. But the earliest tradition was marked by a sense of triumph. The more ancient the crucifixes the more likely they are to show Christ as victor, as king, as Christ in glory…Many modern crucifixes have returned to the ancient type and show Christ in majesty, triumphant, with arms outstretched to draw all people to himself.” We Preach Christ Crucified, p 89

Triumph? Yes! The triumph of love over hate, of faith over cynicism, of persuasion over coercion, of a loving God over the forces of evil.

On Calvary, there were only few witnesses, because it takes courage to stand by the cross. Today, as believers, we stand before the cross, and as we look around, we see other believers with us. We are not alone.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Everyone Gets an Invitation

Dear Friends,

The Jesus of the gospels attended weddings and celebrations. He shared meals with close family and disciples. Jewish officials invited him. He invited himself to the homes of prominent sinners. After the resurrection, he shared a meal with people he joined on the Jerusalem road. He hosted breakfast on the beach. For Jesus, as for us, meals were a time for celebrating holidays, commemorating milestone events, and for sharing faith and friendship.  

The gospel reading for this weekend is Luke 14:1, 7-14. In this passage, Jesus has accepted an invitation from a prominent Jewish religious leader and is seated at the table. Jesus is less interested in the menu than in the composition of the banquet. He steers the conversation to the way a party’s guest list and seating arrangements can mirror societal divisions and social status. Diners may strive to sit in the best seats. Hosts may have invited only prominent people, the ones with connections and status. 

Jesus reminds his table companions that the guest list should include the poor, the blind, and the crippled. Gatherings must reflect a beloved community of equals, all created and called by God. Our social and religious divisions threaten the beloved community of God’s people. Our behavior as guests or hosts must be that of members of this beloved community.

In reflecting on a community of welcome, we might identify with the host. We may see ourselves in the guests’ struggle for status. We must not forget to see ourselves in the broken and the needy. The needy may not hear the invitation. The broken ones may reject the invitation. Disciples need to encourage and refresh those who find it difficult to hear or accept Jesus’s invitation to a meal where all are one. At this banquet invitations are given and accepted, hosts and guests are one in dignity and their willingness to share themselves at the banquet. 

With hope, 

Susan M Schantz SSJ

To Gather and to Sort

Dear Friends,

In Matthew 13, Jesus tells this story.

“The reign of God is like a dragnet thrown into the lake which collects all sorts of things. When it was full, they hauled it on shore and sat down to put what was worthwhile into containers. What was worthless, they threw away.”

On local farms, in our minds, in our houses and garages, we gather all kinds of things to be sorted out later. To gather and to sort are age-old human activities. In these summer months, what have we gathered and of these, what have we sat down to sort out? Or have we just kept gathering, putting off sorting until some distant future.

Jesus is the Great Gatherer of people. In his public ministry, he did not sort out the good from the bad. He accepted people as they were and helped them in whatever ways he could. Think of Levi, the publican who became Matthew, the adulterous woman in John 8, the Gerasene demoniac in Mark 5, Judas, Peter and Mary Magdalen. Jesus gathered them, and while interacting with them, he helped them sort out in themselves what needed to be retained and what needed to be discarded.

Consider all that we have gathered this summer - new thoughts, values, questions, stuff that are now in our closets, kitchens and memories and, garages. How will we sort out all we have accumulated? Here are some questions that I’ve found helpful. Maybe you will too.

What is my intuition about what I have gathered?
Do I value it? Feel happy about it?
Does the Holy Spirit nudge me about what to do with what I have gathered?
Will my having these things be an inspiration to others?

For how long will I keep what I have gathered?
Forever?

Do I hold it close and then let it go? Shall I give away what I gather so that others can benefit? What has happened to me in the past when I selfishly held on to what I have gathered?

As Labor Day approaches, and we turn to a new phase of the year, let’s also turn our thoughts and imagination and consciousness to what we have gathered. Let’s begin the sorting out process,
toss out rigidity and manipulation,

condescension and caste systems,

alienation in its many forms.

Collect laughter and tears,

truth-telling and peacemaking, tenacity and resistance.

Among the summer’s gatherings,
let’s find mystery and awe to hold up to the sunlight.
Hold fast to solidarity and cooperation.
Cherish words of faith, hope and love that people have offered us.
Gather family stories with all their twists and turns.

We need not be afraid to gather. Our nets and bins will not break, and who knows what we will bring forth can nourish us and our world.

Over these thoughts, we pray:

Give me the courage to sort what I gather, Lord, today, tomorrow and into my old age. Let all that I gather be sorted in Your Name. Amen.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Not Peace, but Division

Dear Friends,

The Gospel reading for August 17 features Jesus’s words about the cost of following him. Jesus asks his disciples

Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?
No, I tell you, but rather division.

Jesus goes on to note all sorts of conflict that will face new disciples.

As Luke’s faith community remembered Jesus’s words, they would have been strengthened by remembering Jesus’s own relationship struggles. From the beginning of his life and into his ministry, Jesus’s own family was disrupted. John the Baptist, Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. Friends and family in the Nazareth synagogue. His mother and brothers. Other Jewish believers.

Early Christians who heard these words of Jesus were familiar with the conflict their own conversions had created in their own relationships. To Luke’s listeners those disagreements were all too familiar. Their own family and social and religious lives had been turned upside down. Some had been imprisoned. They may have lost contact with siblings or friends. With his stories of Jesus, Luke reminds believers that this struggle of discipleship began with Jesus’s own struggle. Believers are not alone.

C. S. Lewis said that the Gospel was concerned to create "new people" not just "nice people." There are many saints whose beliefs caused disruption with family or friends. Check out the Saint of the Day website for these stories of men and women who challenge us twenty-first century believers.

• Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
• Mary MacKillop
• Kateri Tekakwitha
• Andrew Dung-Lac and Companions
• Matt Talbot
• Franz Jaggerstatter
• Charles Lwanga and Companions
• Damien de Veuster of Moloka’i
• Miguel Agustín Pro
• Joan of Arc

Susan Schantz SSJ

Beyond the Horizon

Dear Friends,

Many of us are satisfied with the familiar and the comfortable and are reluctant to push ourselves further. If this is so, we can say of ourselves that we have a limited horizon.

Everyone has a horizon – the limit of our thinking, experience, interest or outlook.

When Robert Louis Stevenson was coughing out his life, suffering with a lung disease, his wife Fanny walked into the bedroom. Looking at her wasting husband, she challenged him:

“I suppose you are going to tell me it’s a glorious day.”

“Yes,” the author replied, looking at the sunlight streaming through the window.

"I refuse to let a row of medicine bottles be my horizon."

A row of something or other may be our own personal horizon, but God calls us to push out that horizon so that we can see life through a wide-angled lens and a telescope, not just with a microscope or the unaided eye.

Today’s readings tell us to have enough faith to expand our personal horizons.
In the Letter to the Hebrews, the author reminds us that
faith is the confident assurance about what we hope for
and conviction about things we do not see.

In this year of being pilgrims of hope, we are called to push beyond the limits of expectations about our lives, our culture, our political atmosphere.

Abraham certainly did. His age alone would have been enough for him to believe that life had passed him by.

But he got the word, and he went, not knowing where he was going. His destination was over the horizon.

That was the case of the people caught in slavery in Egypt. The reading from Wisdom in today’s liturgy offers a retrospective glance at the Exodus. The people were told beforehand that they would be saved. This was to give them the courage to cross their horizon. They went, we recall, but they grumbled, lost faith, turned against their leadership, only to regret their lack of faith and go on.

And then there is Jesus. What began with Abraham reached its high point in Jesus.
Jesus’ stories about what happens beyond the horizon.

Today’s parable of the master who came home late happily to find his servants up and waiting for him is also a story of what happens beyond the horizon of the immediate. They never would have anticipated that he would kick off his sandals, put on an apron and serve them a meal.

Jesus seems to be saying that over the horizon of waiting there is a new relationship with the master. Not promotion. Not praise. The master serves the servants. Neither the servants nor we see or expect this from the vantage point of a long night of waiting.

So much of life is beyond what we can see. Moreover, what is beyond our horizon is the unexpected friendship with God.

Even though our paths through these summer days are unique, shall we meet together on the coming horizon?

~ Sister Joan Sobala