The Voice of God, Heard by All

Dear Friends,

Rushing wind, spreading fire, the Spirit that enabled courage. All potent aspects of Pentecost.

Here’s one more to consider, namely that everyone heard Peter speaking in their own tongues – their everyday language.

There was no official language for the coming of the Holy Spirit. Not imperial Latin or universal Greek or local Aramaic or the language of the political/religious parties of Galilee and Judea.

Think about it! Everyone heard the voice of God through Peter in the language of the streets, the idioms they used, their nuances expressions, their slang. God is revealed on Pentecost as a God without borders – a God who rejects sameness as a rule for everyone. There is no one right way to speak, to be human or to be in touch with the living God. Everyone has a take on personally Who God Is and why we need to treasure and make the most of God-with-us. Everyone can ask questions of the Living God and of Jesus, the Risen One. Everyone has insights about God to share. Everyone can speak to God in his/her own tongue.

This breath-stopping thought about how God honors all existing languages in this Pentecost moment is not mine. It drifted into my computer from an unknown source and I have kept it because of its simple but profound insight. The anonymous author of the article that embodied this thought put it this way:

“On Pentecost, God gives the divine voice to the language 

of a bunch of nobodies and a crowd of commoners. 

It is an act of liberation, both for humankind and for God.”

Think about the ways nations have tried to suppress the language of conquered people. One language, those in power say – one language is all we need. Our language. Yet even in English, how many words come from conquered people, indigenous people, people who have been told their language is inferior and too difficult to learn. When language dies, culture dies. People whose culture dies lose heart.

Again quoting the unknown author of this insightful piece,

“Pentecost was a rebellion against those who would 

 restrict God to a single, respectable or official language, 

 of a single, righteous people or a single systematic theology. 

 Pentecost was a protest in which God refused to be silenced 

 by the language of the powerful. Instead, on Pentecost, 

 God spoke. And the people in the street understood.”

And then the people in the street spoke with the voice of God-reaching out to others in Word and Spirit – with the very conviction of God.

The people of Gaza and the Ukraine, the people of Haiti and other battle – weary countries cry out to the world with the voice of God.

On this Pentecost Day, may we hear the voice of God in them and wherever compassion and mercy are preached and lived. May our world be suffused with Pentecost fire, light, hearing and courage.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Celebrating Mother's Day

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 woman and saying hard things about the need to reclaim and indeed, find new depths in the meaning of mothers in our fast paced “I’ll think about that later” world. 

The word “Mother “is not always used in respectful terms.  

Mothers move between heartache and joy in their lives. 

With today’s news reporting people frantic over the availability of abortion in many US states, Mother’s Day takes on layers of sadness, pain, despair, relief, guilt, emptiness, emptying, and more. Still, the nation celebrates Mother’s Day. 

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. We celebrate her today as well. 

The mothering qualities we treasure – steadfast love, generosity, openheartedness, tenderness – are first found in God. 

And then there is Jesus, described by St. Anselm in the late 11th century. 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

Jesus, Our Faithful Brother

Dear Friends,

Recently, as part of a committee, I wrote a prayer for a non-liturgical service, in which I included the phrase, “Jesus, Our Brother and Lord.” Someone else, typing up the text in the program, edited out “Our Brother,” leaving only “Jesus Our Lord.”

I was befuddled. Isn’t Jesus our Brother as well as our Lord? Or are we uncomfortable calling Jesus our Brother?

He is our Brother. By virtue of our Baptism, we have been incorporated into Christ. He is the firstborn of many brothers and sisters. (Romans 8.29)

Recognizing Jesus as our Brother opens the door for a greater affection for Jesus, a wonder in us that He has welcomed us in this way.

When we call Jesus our Brother, we do not reduce him to “bro” – which is affectionate but not necessarily reverent. Rather, He elevates us to a place in the family of God, offers us an intimacy that in humbling, constant and life-giving not only for ourselves, but for all we welcome into our lives.

If we are aware of the power of Jesus being our Brother, we might be more inclined to treat others more as we treat Jesus – with reverence, delight in His company.

There’s more. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says to His disciples, “I no longer call you servants/slaves. I call you friends.” (John15.15)

Today, Jesus bids us to regard Him as our companion and friend. Add to that the realization that Jesus is Our Brother as well as our Lord.

What wondrous thoughts! By Jesus’ very invitation, we are called to live in intimacy with Him.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

A Morning Prayer

Dear Friends,

Last weekend I was at the Notre Dame Retreat Center (NDRC) in Canandaigua, working as part of the retreat team. Forty women were there to discern, listen, ask questions, be sad yet be filled with wonder about their life with God. If you haven’t participated in a retreat recently or ever, do consider it. Visit NDRC for their offerings or search Google for another retreat center.

The women at this retreat told us that they benefitted from the experience, but frankly those of us who worked with them did too. One of the gifts I came away with is the morning prayer below that fills up the rest of my blog today (author unknown). It’s a keeper. Cut it out for future use. Pass it on.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Discerning Life's Call

Dear Friends,

Today marks a first in my blog history. I have invited one of our Sisters to share her thoughts about Good Shepherd Sunday, which since 1963 has been designated as the World Day of Prayer for Vocations. Sister Donna Del Santo has been our Congregation’s Vocation Director for many years. I thank her for sharing her thoughts today.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

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In our second reading today, we are reminded that “we are God’s children now, what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him.” (1 John 3.2)

When we listen and respond to the call to become the person God dreams for us to be, we will most resemble God. It doesn’t matter who our parents are or what resources we have, we are each uniquely called.

This message is re-enforced in our gospel when Jesus says…“I am the Good Shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me.” (John 10.13) Jesus knows who we are and who we are called to be.

Our Church needs a variety of leaders and ministers to do its work of spreading the good news of Jesus Christ, including but not limited to those called to religious life, ordained priesthood or diaconate.

While we may earnestly pray that our Church be supplied with leaders for its needs, and we may want more young people to offer themselves as priests, religious and lay leaders in the Church, we tend to exclude our own children, grandchildren, nephews and nieces. I know a young woman who went to Cornell. Her mother said to her, “Tell me now, if you’re going to be a Sister. If so, I’m not paying for Cornell!” Yet it is parents, grandparents, godparents…who are their children’s first Vocation Directors. I had gone to a wake where I met a former classmate’s mother. She told me, “I think my granddaughter Sarah might have a call to religious life. What can I do to help her?” I told her of an upcoming Come & See event and encouraged her to tell Sarah about it and she did. Now Sarah is at least exploring Religious Life.

I never thought of myself as a candidate for Religious Life either. I was a FARC, a Fallen Away Roman Catholic. I was living a good life, just not a religious one. Yet God had other designs for my life…I was so haunted by God’s call that in 1992, I entered the Sisters of Saint Joseph where I have found a home and discovered that as a Sister I would grow to be my best self, where my heart’s deepest desire would meet God’s dream for me.

Probably many of you could tell a similar story, whether you’ve chosen the vocation to be married, with or without children, or the vocation of a single life, or the vocation to be a priest, Sister, or deacon. I bet each of you can think of a moment in your faith journey where you might have resisted God’s invitation, yet…with the help of others, you were able to respond with a yes.

Are you inviting young people to discern their life’s call?

I’d like to challenge you to talk to at least one teen or young adult in the next week about what they’re thinking about their call in life. Invite them to consider religious life as a possible choice. And if you are a teen or a young adult, I challenge you to find out more about religious life or priesthood. Call or email me at Vocations@ssjrochester.org. If need be, I can direct you to another Vocation Director elsewhere. Let us know how we can be of assistance to you or someone you know on their vocation journey.

Both our Church and our world will be better served because you care enough about the Church to do this.

~ Sister Donna Del Santo

The Meaning of Christ’s Eastertime Message

Dear Friends,

The risen Christ in Luke – indeed, the risen Christ in every post-resurrection account – says and does things that bring newness out of His followers. In each case, what they saw was something beyond what was before their eyes. They experienced the divine presence, and it truly affected them.

Take today’s portion of Luke. Jesus, who before His death, healed people through His touch, now, in His post-resurrection presence, wants to be touched Himself. “Touch me,” he says. “See that I am real."

And what about this irony: that Jesus, the Compassionate Feeder of Many, asks for food. “Have you anything to eat?” He asks His disciples. “Feed me.”

Christ’s Eastertime message to His disciples then and now is the same. Touch me, Feed me. Know that I am real. I am with you. Now.

There’s a kind of knowledge in us that we store up in our minds and there’s another kind of knowledge in us that spills over into our daily living.

The kind of knowledge of Jesus the disciples had after Easter and most especially after Pentecost, made them act in new ways. After Pentecost, they would speak with power, go fearlessly into the marketplace and preach with eloquence and persuasiveness. Persecution and prison would not dissuade them, because the roots of this new way of being began in those days when Jesus met them, after the resurrection in unexpected places – where He said to them, “Touch me. Feed me.”

Take the members of the World Central Kitchen, who died during a food delivery mission in Gaza. The need to feed people compelled them. They did not wish to die. Jose Andres, the founder of the WCK, wept as he talked about his volunteers who had died. Touch me. Feed me.

The workers who died in the collapse of Baltimore’s Francis Scott Key bridge were Hispanic, working to support their families here in the States as well as their countries of origin. Touch me. Feed me.

Even in ourselves, as we consider touching and feeding others, something has to die – a certain sense of self, a way of living. Dying could even mean a different use of our time and talents for the Body of Christ in our time.

This Sunday’s Gospel gives us a week-long opportunity to consider what it already means, what could it possibly mean to us when the risen Jesus says: “Touch me. Feed me.”?

~ Sister Joan Sobala

The Intertwining of Eastertime and the Eclipse

Dear Friends,

This year, Eastertime and the total solar eclipse are intertwined. The connection is potent if we pause to consider their link for us. When Jesus died on the cross, darkness covered the land for three hours, according to Luke. He, who was to have been a light to the nations (Luke 2.32) was gone. Some would describe Holy Saturday as a day of darkness as well. The living did not experience Him, but it has been the belief of many over the centuries that Jesus had descended to the dead, doing for them what He did for the living. He brought a sense of healing and completion to their lives.

The darkness of those Holy Days was not a solar eclipse. There was no eclipse in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus’ death. Even if there were, it would have lasted for only minutes and not all those hours. The darkness at the time of Jesus’ death and on Holy Saturday was a darkness of unseeing and loss. A darkness of confusion and despair. Not being able to access Jesus as the disciples had before or would again.

Tomorrow, people will find a vantage point to begin their vigil -- hopefully by 2:07 pm, when the moon will begin its journey across the face of the sun. Beginning at 3:20 pm, for three minutes 38 seconds, that darkness will be complete. By 4:33 pm the moon’s passage will be complete.

In a few brief moments, the total eclipse will begin and then be over. Some of us might even remember to thank God for being alive and in the right place to observe this rare, heavenly phenomenon. But what does it mean for our lives?

For one thing, the sun doesn’t disappear. It simply disappears from view briefly. God is like that in our experience. How many people have said they don’t see God, experience God as they would wish. Some even say God is absent from their life.

Darkness seems a dominant force in the eclipse and in the anguish of Good Friday and Holy Saturday…but not for long. Even as the sun emerges from beyond the moon, Jesus, the Risen One, emerges from the tomb and is alive. Truly, splendidly alive. Active in His historic time. Active in our day -- in our midst.

The eclipse is a community experience. People seem to want to be together as they see the change in the sky. They want to share their experience, and afterwards, share what it felt like, what they realized, why it mattered.

Our experience of the Risen Christ is also a community event. If we can pass from the total darkness of the eclipse to resume the fullness of day, what does that tell us about Christ’s presence in the here and now?

After our experience of the eclipse, the words of John may mean more to us than they used to: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overwhelm it.” (John1.5)

What would it be like if we were as enamored of the resurrection as we are of the eclipse? In fact, we have gotten used to believing in Christ’s resurrection over time, “Ah, yes,” we say, “Jesus was raised up and lives with us forever.” We treat the Resurrection of Jesus as we treat other long-lasting loves of our lives -- without the awe that it rightly inspires.

Is it just possible that the Eastertime-eclipse could help us, as individuals and a community, to appreciate the Risen Lord that much more?

~ Sister Joan Sobala