The Meaning of Motherhood

Dear Friends,

Happy Mother’s Day to all who nurture: those who, in unity with the Holy Spirit, nudge, inspire, heal, encourage and return our cherished ones to God. Mothers and others who nurture are worthy of being celebrated for all they are, do and represent. We are forever connected with our mothers, though our relationships with them are psychologically complex and spiritually challenging. Some have pushed us hard or perhaps left us to fend for ourselves. But the connection remains. Not all mothers are perfect, though some are nearly so. One child, when asked what would make her mother perfect, replied “I would like her to get rid of those invisible eyes at the back of her head.”

In many ways, Mother’s Day stops at being a sentimental day of giving flowers, cards and gifts. Then it is Monday, and all is back to normal. But anyone who says negative things about Mother’s Day, itself, risks the annoyance of people for whom this day is an important gesture of reverence for the one who bore them. Writers about Mother’s Day walk a fine line between praise of the day and the women, and saying hard things about the need to reclaim and indeed, find new depths in the ongoing meaning of mothers in our fast-paced “I’ll think about that later” world.

Motherhood, in one form or another, is in the news more often than we realize. A week ago, Pope Francis gave a talk to Italian high school students who study in a school dedicated to peace. In his talk, Pope Francis decried the misuse of the term “mother.” “I am ashamed by the name of a bomb – the mother of all bombs. Look, a mother gives life, but this brings death! And this is what we casually call this bomb?  What on earth is happening here?” The word “mother” is not always used in respectful terms.

Another news item last week was the story of more of the Nigerian Chibok girls released from captivity by the Boko Haram. As the camera panned over the girls, the reporter noted that many mothers were crying for joy because their daughters were returned. But not all mothers wept with joy because their daughters were still among the missing. Mothers move between heartache and joy in their lives.

Today’s mothers of infants through teens juggle work and home. Changing cultural values make it important, indeed necessary for women to rethink, reinterpret, articulate and reclaim the meaning of motherhood. Women who have strong roots in their religious traditions are called to understand, uphold and live by the richness of their faith, as they live public/civic and domestic lives.

Catholic Christians have long had a devotion to Mary, the God-Bearer and our Mother. My friend’s Italian grandmother prayed to Mary as an “earth mother” who knew birth, human work, human delight and death. Mary is mother, sister, icon, friend to all who welcome her strong but gentle presence.

And then there is Jesus, described by St. Anselm in the late 11thcentury, “And you, Jesus, are you not also a mother? Are you not the mother who, like a hen, gathers her chicks under her wings? Truly Lord, You are our mother…”                                    

Thank God we are never done with mothers.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Whatever Happened to the Common Good?

Dear Friends,

Whatever happened to the common good?  The common good means to move beyond our private desires and sectarian passions to embrace and act on behalf of the well-being of all. The biblical scholar, Walter Brueggeman says “We have a crisis about the common good because there are powerful forces at work among us to resist the common good, to violate community solidarity, and to deny a common destiny.  Mature people, at their best, are people who are committed to the common good that reaches beyond private interest, transcends sectarian commitments and offers human solidarity.”

In our fast-paced world with its demands on our time and resources, work on behalf of the common good has been overtaken by personal anxiety about our individual futures, by the desire for personal gain, by concerns over scarcity, and by the fear of the unknown.

That phrase, “the common good,” has fallen out of use by individuals and societies. It’s time to study it, relearn its potential for good, go back to Jesus who is the first source of Christian thinking and action on behalf of the common good.

If you’ve been concerned about this topic, in even the most vague way, there’s good news. You are not alone. So consider this an invitation to spend a retreat day at our Motherhouse (150 French Road) on Saturday, May 20, 9 am to 3 pm (cost $30) probing the common good. In the morning, Rev. Myra Brown, Sister Beth LeValley and Rev. Deborah Fae Swift will share their understanding of the common good from a Christian perspective, in our families, our communities and our world today and suggest what’s needed to renew the common good a personal and collective goal.

After lunch, participants will consider how we raise our children and grandchildren to embrace the common good, how we engage those who are left out, how we can use our personal energies in causes and agencies to promote the common good, and more. The take home will be a renewed sense of the power of the community to uphold the common good as key to living together in our crowded world. Participants may even leave with renewed energy to do the work with others of making the common good actual in our times.

This program is a joint venture of Fresh Wind in our Sails with Atonement Lutheran Church – another is a series of programs commemorating the 500^th anniversary of Martin Luther and his impact on the spiritual life of believers. Call me at 585.733.2555 or e-mail me at jsobala@ssjrochester.org  for more information or to register.

Abundance is a gift of God. We have it. We will recognize it only when we share it.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Taking Delight in God's Good Earth

Dear Friends,

Each year in April and May, avid gardeners prepare the land for planting, and when the moment is right, put in their annuals. Long before that, perennials are divided, shared, swapped and pinched off.

Those of us who like to have perennials in our gardens also know that certain perennials send out long adventuresome roots: bishop’s weed, lilies of the valley, jack- o-lanterns, to mention a few. They go under sidewalks and around corners and won’t stop. The only way to eliminate perennials that threaten to take over everything is to attack their roots system, to find “the mother” as it’s called.

The sneakiest thing about these tentacled plants is that they reappear when you think you have eliminated them. Roots have the power within them to shoot life to the surface. These roots intertwine with plants we want to preserve. The danger is in killing both.

So too in the spiritual life. The good we intend, the love, the care, the hopefulness, our sense of justice are often intertwined with less noble and sometimes downright destructive aspects of our personalities and habits. We need a kind of spiritual round-up -- you  know, ”round-up,” the topical spray which goes to the roots of what needs to be eliminated.

Then, too, I can’t help thinking about uprooted people…refugees and immigrants.

About one in every 35 people in the world is a refugee or international immigrant, forcibly uprooted because of persecution or war. The uprooted face closed borders, closed hearts and closed minds. Where will they be welcomed to put down their own roots?

It’s up to the world’s gardens to receive the special blossoms and fruits of the displaced. But it’s at a cost to us. We might be asked to make room, become hybrid and after all, is that so bad?

In his lessons in the Gospel, Jesus tells us that it’s important to stay connected to the vine, to let the tares grow with the wheat until harvest, to be pruned, to scatter seed lavishly. Every lesson we learn from the earth and its yield is a lesson of faith.

Years ago, a parishioner where I worked, and fellow gardener, brought me a five ounce paper cup with a seed growing in it. “I don’t recognize it, Mike.”  He beamed. “It’s a redwood tree.” What an act of faith! To plant a redwood seed, knowing this tree could grow and flourish for a thousand years or more! Mike taught me an important lesson, echoed by the poet Wendell Berry. “Plant sequoias,” Berry says. ”Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant. Practice resurrection.”

So as spring deepens into planting time and the earth warms, plant flowers and vegetables. Scatter seed. Take delight in God’s good earth. Remember those across the world who gave their life’s blood so that others might plant freely. Hold up your green thumb as if to say to God “OK Gardener God, let the growing begin.”

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Breath of Christ

Dear Friends,

Thomas wasn’t there on Easter Sunday night, when Jesus breathed on his disciples – a comforting, welcoming, power-instilling breath. You and I know the power of breath in CPR, for example, and how close one has to be to feel the breath of another. The Greek word that is used to describe Jesus breathing on his disciples appears here and nowhere else in the New Testament. But it’s the same word used three times in the Old Testament – at the creation of human life by God in Genesis, when Elisha, the prophet is described in Second Kings as breathing life into a dead man, in Ezekiel, where the breath of God puts new life into dead bones. That very breath is in us, making us a faith community, a new creation.

That Easter night, the Risen Jesus also gave his disciples the power of loosing and binding. Catholic theology recognizes in this passage about binding and loosing the roots of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. And so it is. But we can say moreover that the whole Church is called to bind and loose people. We tend to think of our responsibility to bind and loose as minimal and that the task/the grace of binding and loosing properly belongs to priests and bishops.

But the Gospel does not allow us to give this commission away. It’s like this: You and I and people all over the world participate in human reconciliation with God. That reconciliation is at the heart of the Lenten season we just experienced. I know people who, during Lent, made phone calls, wrote letters and did whatever they could to foster reconciliation among people and reconciliation of people with God. We bind people to be faithful to their commitments, to their own integrity. Richard III of England took as his motto “Loyalty binds me.” We, too, are bound by our loyalties, our talents, our unity as a believing community. We are also told to free one another from the people, situations and cultural inducements that bind us destructively. I cannot be persuaded that the American cultural practice of Sunday morning sports leagues for children and teens, a.k.a. churchless Sunday mornings, is for the good of the faith of families or the participants themselves.

On this Second Sunday of Easter, all our readings remind us that we are called and commissioned together, and that being together for Sunday worship is not a luxury but a necessity for Christians.

At his home, one winter night, the famous 19th Century American evangelist DL Moody was listening to a guest defend himself in being separated from the faith community. “Frankly,” the guest told Moody, “I don’t see any problem about not being part of a church. I can be quite a good Christian out of the Church as well as within it.” In answer, Moody moved toward the fireplace, took up the tongs and removed a piece of wood that had been ignited. The two men watched the wood, separated from the fireplace, begin to falter, smolder and not long after, go out. The lesson brought the man back to church after that. He had learned that to separate oneself is to cease to burn.

The disciples accepted Thomas when he returned the following week, and the Risen Jesus gave him every opportunity Thomas said he needed to continue in faith.

We, too, have every opportunity to accept the breath of Christ into our being – to bind and loose in Christ’s name – intangible, real Easter gifts that can engender new life.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Sips of Easter

The Lord is risen, Alleluia! Happy Easter, dear friends.

Today, rather than one more or less coherent little essay, I offer you sips of Easter to savor through the day or week. The sips of Easter are from others who, in gazing upon the Risen Lord, were moved to words – people who throughout history have used every medium of communication to say “I have  savored, adored, discovered, was touched to the quick by Jesus the Risen Lord.”

~Keep watch then, brothers and sisters… for the morning of that day which has no sunset has already shone upon us. (Guerric of Igny  c. 1150)

~Let all then enter the joy of the Lord! Both the first and the last and those who come after… Rich and poor, dance with one another, sober and slothful, celebrate the day. Those who have kept the fast and those who have not, rejoice today for the table is richly spread… Let no one go away hungry. All of you, enjoy the banquet of faith… Christ is risen, and life is set free. (Easter Sermon of John  Chrysostom )

~From an anonymous correspondent who sent this to Bishop Joseph L. Hogan of Rochester who then made it famous by circulating it in the diocese: “Who rolled back the stone? You did, when you laughed, cried, shared, trusted me… When you let me help you, hold you… When you could have said no but said yes instead… when you listened, smiled, and let me keep my dignity… when confusion, loneliness, disappointments came crashing in and there you were...When you gently called me to prayer, to celebrate life, to sing, to dance, to risk, to love. Then the stone rolled away. When you said I care, I love you, I need you, I’m sorry, I forgive you…then the stone rolled away. New life, spring, warmth, life, freedom were born. The resurrection became Reality. (Bishop of Rochester 1969-1978)

~“It all began with the Resurrection… if he had only stayed put…” Dan Berrigan S.J. (1921-2016) How would you continue his poem?

~Cartoon: Which came first the bunny or the egg? Neither, they are both made of chocolate. Caveman walks away, trips, slides down a hill, hits his head on a tree. Groggily, he notices a sign with an arrow. The word on the sign is TOMB. Caveman finds the tomb, goes in, comes out scratching his head saying to himself “Life’s greatest discoveries seldom occur without pain.” (B.C. by Mastroianni and Hart)

~The Jesus of Easter is the Completer of unfinished people with unfinished work in unfinished times. (Lona Fowler)

~The Resurrection is not a crutch. It does not allow us to excuse the killing of an innocent teenager or the conduct of a war that seems not to be headed toward some just resolution. The Resurrection, rather, is the reason to hold on to our hope. (Mark Hare)

~May the God who shakes heaven and earth, whom death could not contain, who lives to disturb and heal us, bless you with power to go forth and proclaim the gospel. Amen (Janet  Morley)

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Celebrating Holy Week

Dear Friends,

Holy Week, among other things, is about resistance – the refusal to accept, be part of, grasp and take in whatever is set forth as necessary, irrefutable and absorbing.

Jesus was a resistor.

Hearing the crowd’s Hosanna, Jesus resisted the temptation to believe that the adulation of the crowd would last. Jesus resisted running away from suffering – yet in the garden, as he prayed, Jesus resisted suffering and the very comfort of knowing he was loved by his Father. Jesus resisted the night with its betrayal, the night of death and the bleakness of the tomb. He resisted bitterness as his disciples scattered and Peter denied any knowledge of Jesus. Jesus resisted the power of Rome and hostile religious authority that threatened to crush him.

Others involved in the event of these days marshaled resistance as well. Judas resisted the new, unexpected way that Jesus offered people salvation. He wanted Jesus to savior his way. Peter resisted Jesus who knelt to wash Peter’s feet. Later, Peter resisted his conscience and the loyalty Jesus inspired in him. The women in their vigil at the cross and at the tomb resisted the threat of the Roman military and the jibes of the crowd.

Resistance either comes from faith or it does not. When it does not come from faith, as we see in this week’s drama, it disappears into cowardice, shrinks from the inside and leaves failure in its trail. Such resistance obscures the likeness of God in the resistor and offers no spark to ignite the world.

But resistance that comes from faith leads to new life, a renewed confidence in God and Easter itself. Jesus’ cry on the cross shattered the last human resistance – death – forever. On Easter, the resistance of the stone, the inability of Jesus’ disciples to recognize him, and most of all, the resistance called fear gave way to lasting, indescribable joy.

In our world, this Holy Week and Easter, we find all these same resistances played out. Some US citizens resisting self-centeredness, yet others resisting truth. Worldwide, medical workers resist epidemics and at the same time regimes resist being overthrown. Signs of resistance are everywhere. It’s often hard to sort out their meaning. That’s why we need Easter, for when Christ Easters in us and in our world, we recognize the good to embrace and the evil to reject. Boundaries become permeable, resistance gives way to harmony, we become participants in a community working for the common good.

As Holy Week unfolds, I hope we can resist being bystanders only in an ancient drama, bystanders, who in their lack of concern for others, “leave no fingerprints on what their hands have touched.” (Charles Wright)

This week, do not resist Christ. Touch Him in his Passion, Death and Resurrection. Touch one another with the encouragement of faith. Touch the empty tomb. Touch the spring flowers that proclaim He is risen.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Meaning of the Cross

Dear Friends,

We have just experienced several weeks of federal officials at the national level passing the blame for the twists and turns of government. Passing the blame is a common human ancient trait, going back to Adam and Eve. For better than two thousand years, people have dealt with the death of Jesus on the cross by passing the blame. Pontius Pilate is responsible. No, the Scribes and the Pharisees are responsible. No, no. The whole Jewish people throughout history are responsible. And then the question turns on us: Are we responsible? Not me, you might say. I wasn’t there. But the focus on blame doesn’t get to the meaning of the cross. Blame is easy. Solidarity with Jesus on the cross is hard.

God in Jesus, the Word Incarnate, died on the cross, held close by His Father, just as every person is held close by God at the moment of death. God in Jesus came to save us from the destructive power of sin. In the Gospel Jesus does not ask us to imitate Him. Rather we are called to be in solidarity with Him in his life, death and resurrection. Put another way, to be a Christian is to share in the dying and rising of Christ. These are powerful thoughts – almost beyond our ability to grasp, but try we must.

Here’s an important point about the dying of Jesus that is found in the Gospel of John 19.30. It is the cry of Jesus just before he dies: “It is finished.” Far from being a whimper of defeat, tetelestai, the Greek word for what Jesus calls out, is the shout of victory of an athlete as he crosses the finish line. Jesus was not defeated by the cross. It was the instrument of victory over sin and ultimate death.

The earliest tradition of symbolizing Jesus on the cross has this sense of triumph. Christ was the victor. Christ passed from life to glory through his death on the cross. Then there was a turn, and for many centuries until recent times, the Jesus who was imaged on the cross called us to concentrate on his pain, his wounds, his blood. We contemplated Christ’s sufferings, and that was a good thing, but it didn’t help believers reach the realization that Jesus’ death was not the end. The cross was His way to glory and to restore our relationship with God. Many modern crucifixes have renewed the older imagery of Christ, on the cross, who stretches out his arms to draw us to himself.

Good Friday is less than two weeks away, the middle day of the Triduum between the Supper of the Lord and the Easter Vigil. The power and meaning of the cross can get lost in Holy Week when so much of our truth as believers comes to absorb us in such a short time. That’s why it’s good to start now to dive into the meaning of Christ’s gift of Himself and His new Risen Life among us.

Do you have a crucifix at home? Move it into a more prominent place where you can see it and call for its deepest meaning to flood through you. Mark your calendar for the Liturgy of Good Friday. While it is a laudable practice to participate in the Stations of the Cross, the stations are not the Liturgy of Good Friday. Find out its time and be there. Bring no agenda except to be in solidarity with Jesus in his time of victory over death and sin.

Behold! Behold!    The wood of the cross on which has hung our salvation.     O come let us adore!

~ Sister Joan Sobala