Thoughts and Prayers?

Dear Friends, 

My social media streams often include posts about illness, violence, and natural disasters. These posts may move readers to respond with an emoji, perhaps a heart or a symbol of praying hands. “Thoughts and prayers” is one phrase I’ve seen quite often.

During COVID's early months, most people felt vulnerable and helpless. Those posted offerings of thoughts and prayers began to draw some criticism or mockery. Out of the isolation and fear of those months most of us felt hopeless. Efforts by governments and health care felt inadequate. We need action not prayer, they proclaimed. What good are thoughts and prayers?

One of this Sunday’s Mass readings is a passage from the letter of James. Faith without works is dead. I know that James would understand the frustrated social media commenters. He understood the relationship of belief and action. He knew and followed the teacher who fed the hungry, welcomed women and children, and spoke truth to power.  

In our individual and communal prayer we join God in lovingly gazing at creation. Prayer in troubled times will certainly include lament and intercession, but it will also include openness to God’s call to action. Like James we follow a teacher who calls us to action. Thoughts and prayers can help us do what is in our power to do. 

~ Susan Schantz SSJ

Be Opened!

Dear Friends,  

Taking a fresh look at this Sunday’s readings, Joe Biden came to mind. Not Joe Biden the President, but Joe Biden with the speech impediment. He was a controlled stutterer, who nonetheless has achieved much in life. One of the incidents that I recall vividly was Joe meeting a boy, 7 or 8 years old, who revealed he was a stutterer too. Without hesitation, Joe interrupted his progress to another venue. He sat with the boy and gave him tips on living with this condition and growing through it. Joe wanted this boy to succeed in life. The boy needed a reversal of both thinking and acting. The readings from Isaiah and Mark today tell us that God brings about great reversals in life. They come from God through the healing attention of others. 

Let’s go back to the pertinent lines in Isaiah: 

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf be cleared. Then will the lame leap like a stag, and the tongue of the dumb will speak. 

We might think of this as beautiful poetry, but only poetry.  

But God, in the Scriptures, brought wholeness to people so they could see, hear, leap, sing.  

We see in Jesus the primary example of one who makes great reversals happen. There is something especially poignant about the sensitivity of Jesus in healing the deaf-mute in today’s gospel: 

Jesus drew him away from the crowd to save him embarrassment. As the deaf-mute watched, Jesus spat to communicate His intention to heal. Spittle was understood to be curative. 

Then Jesus touched the person’s eyes and tongue to underline His intention. Jesus looked up to heaven to indicate that what He did, He did through prayer. The man – a foreigner, no less – was made whole. 

Talking about deafness or blindness or any physical limitation of people is a delicate issue. Friends, like Father Ray Fleming, himself deaf, remind us that, for them, deafness is normal. For Joe Biden and the little boy, stuttering was normal. Jesus, in the Gospel, is not reported to have cured every sick person he met. Physical healing is not necessarily the goal. It is reversal that is important – and the gateway to reversal for everyone is in the phrase:

                                                     “Ephphata! Be opened.” 

“Be opened!” are wise words for us in this post-Labor Day time, when we settle into a more patterned way of life than we experience in the summer season. Be opened to the deeper meaning of the stories that people tell us, more opened to the changes at in our society that we experience, so that we can support or challenge them, be opened to those who are rendered dumb because people in power refuse to listen. 

Be opened, in our personal lives means that that we stop living on the surface of life and open ourselves to limitless hope, deep and compassionate love and the embrace of this God of ours who inspires great reversals in our lives. 

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Welcoming a New Year of Life

Dear Friends,

Every September begins a new year for me. My birthday is in mid-August, so I enter the month a year older. Labor Day allows for a bittersweet goodbye to summer. The first day of school overflows with memories of my years as student and teacher. And in early September 1964 I began life as a Sister of Saint Joseph.

I had just graduated high school. It was an SSJ custom that new members arrived on September 8th. At the beginning of that month, I received a letter changing the date to the 12th. Our class’s move was postponed so that Motherhouse kitchen remodeling could be completed. 

What did I do with this bonus time? One memory I have of those four days is Robert F. Kennedy’s September 9th campaign visit to Rochester. He was running for US Senate against a popular Republican incumbent, Kenneth Keating. My friends and I took the bus to downtown Rochester and waited with the crowd. His motorcade paused right near us. We waved and screamed and cheered for him. 

Sixty years later, I realize that the Kennedy brothers were my heroes because they were dynamic, Catholic, and courageous. I began high school in the year John F. Kennedy was elected President. It had been only nine months since his assassination and here was RFK, willing to pick up the torch. I, in my own way, was beginning a life of service.

With years and experience, I’ve developed a more nuanced view of politics, religion, and heroes. The school of life has taught me hope and skepticism. My membership in this nation and Church continues. I’m one of the old women in the crowd now, cheering a little less noisily, but excited to welcome this new year. 

~ Sister Susan Schantz

Drifting to Embrace God's Anew

Dear Friends,  

Have you ever drifted with the current in a river? I have. Up in Canada one year, after a strenuous white-water rafting of rapids, the guide told us to jump into the water and “go with the flow.” The scenery passed by with all its rugged beauty and we didn’t even have to think, until the guide told us to turn and swim, because a quarter of a mile ahead was a waterfall. The drifting was over. 

Today’s readings have something to tell us about drifting and waterfalls in our own lives, and how we have to turn to embrace God anew. 

Joshua’s companions, who crossed into the promised land with him, included the generations after the exodus had begun. Apparently, many of them were drifting along without the benefit of a personal commitment fully their own. They had not embraced the conviction that God was committed to be their God and they were called to be His people.  

When Joshua saw that this sensitivity was lacking, he said to the people: Decide today whom you will serve and be faithful. 

Our second reading picks up the theme of choice and fidelity when Paul says: Defer (i.e. submit) to one another out of reverence for Christ. 

(It’s regrettable that the author of Ephesians takes for granted the subordination of women. While such an understanding was part of the time, it is not true of ours. We don’t accept the subordination of women today, and because we don’t, we are in danger of missing the point of this passage.) 

In asking us to defer to one another, the author of Ephesians is asking that, in our intimate relationships, we put aside self-interest and choose to live generously the commitments we have made. No drifting. Choose and be faithful.  

Finally, the Gospel offers us a graphic picture of the conflict that the words and deeds of Jesus have caused. For the last four weeks, we have heard how the claims and promises of Jesus aroused cynicism, ridicule and contempt. 

“This sort of talk is hard to endure,” the people said. Many of them left the company of Jesus.  

Jesus turned to his closest disciples and asked if they wanted to go away too. Then Jesus waited for their response. He didn’t back down from what are called his “hard sayings,” but he waited for his disciples to choose, and he waited for us.  

Some of us have gone away from the daily company of Christ. Maybe our feet still take us to church, but our hearts are elsewhere. We may be drifting toward some unseen waterfalls ahead. 

When we can’t begin to find words to respond to the God who wants to know whether we will go or stay, we can at least borrow from the words of Peter to make our own: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are God’s Holy One.” 

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Pick Up that Book

Dear Friends,

On July 17, the Vatican published a papal letter about reading as part of seminarians’ formation for ministry. In his opening paragraph, Pope Francis writes that his reading recommendation is really for all believers. All the baptized are in formation as disciples called to mission.

What does the Pope ask us to read? The Catholic Catechism? A Synod document? One of the four gospels? No. The pope wants us to read novels, short stories, and poems. Why? Francis explains why in his letter. Here are some quotations from our book loving shepherd.

This is a definition of literature that I like very much: listening to another person’s voice.

… in moments of weariness, anger, disappointment or failure, when prayer itself does not help us find inner serenity, a good book can help us weather the storm until we find peace of mind.

… we should select our reading with an open mind, a willingness to be surprised, a certain flexibility and readiness to learn, trying to discover what we need at every point of our lives.

… Each new work we read will renew and expand our worldview.

… access which literature grants to the very heart of human culture and, more specifically, to the heart of every individual.

By opening up to the reader a broader view of the grandeur and misery of human experience, literature teaches us patience in trying to understand others, humility in approaching complex situations, meekness in our judgement of individuals and sensitivity to our human condition.

We develop an imaginative empathy that enables us to identify with how others see, experience, and respond to reality. Without such empathy, there can be no solidarity, sharing, compassion, mercy. In reading we discover that our feelings are not simply our own, they are universal, and so even the most destitute person does not feel alone.

And so, dear friends, whatever your current read, dive back in. Pick up a novel. Enjoy some poetry. Grab a half hour for that short story. Know that any reading touches the spirit, and that fiction has a special way of opening our hearts and minds for ministry.

~ Sister Susan Schantz

PS: If you feel attracted to reading the pope’s whole letter, you can find it on the Vatican website. https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/letters/2024/documents/20240717-lettera-ruolo-letteratura-formazione.html

Being Held Close to the Heart

Dear Friends, 

The locker room at the YMCA has been the locus of many conversations over the years. I’ve chatted women from other lands, various ages, many experiences. 

One woman helped me with a bathing suit adjustment early this year. She said her name was Sue, but Sue had an accent that prompted me to ask where her roots were. “Where are you from, Sue?” 

“Italy. My real name is Assunta.” 

Ever since then, I have called her Assunta. 

She likes it. 

Last week, at one moment she and I were the only two in the locker room. “Assunta,” I said. “You have a feast day coming up soon.”  

“I do,” she acknowledged happily. 

Something prompted me to share my own grasp of this feast: “This is how I think of the Assumption of Mary. Mary died and Jesus her son came to her in death, scooped her up, held her close to His heart and bore her to heaven, body and soul. Assunta, there’s nothing in Scripture that says this. It is what I imagine.” 

A look of connection to my words came over Assunta’s face. She took my hand in hers. “That is how my grandson holds me close. I lost my husband and then my son. Why me? I cried. Why me? To the priest I said: ‘Why me?’ To anyone one who would listen I said: ‘Why me?’”  

“Then as he grew to be taller than I am, unbidden, my grandson began to hold me close to his heart. I never again said ‘Why me?’.  I knew I was blessed.” 

On Thursday’s Feast of the Assumption, spend time in wonder: Who holds you close to his/her heart? Whom do you hold close? 

Can we simply rejoice in this feast of Mary as a celebration of being held close to the heart of God? 

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Enough for the Crowd

Dear Friends, 

"Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?" Jesus to Philip, John 6

The Gospel for this Sunday highlights Jesus’s question to Philip when they face a hungry crowd. This is a question Jesus also asks us when we turn to him for help in responding to hungry children, women, and men. 

This passage reminds me of a young man I follow on Instagram. Hamada Shaqoura is a 33-year-old chef, social media influencer, husband, and new father currently posting from a refugee camp in southern Gaza. After fleeing Gaza City, he and his wife are living with their baby in a small tent. His outdoor kitchen reveals the scarcity and generosity that characterize refugee life in Gaza. 

Shaqoura is the cook for his camp neighbors. He waits hours in food lines for bags or boxes of emergency food aid. After returning to his makeshift kitchen, he surveys the diverse supply and uses hoarded spices, experience, and creativity to produce a meal. Ingredients vary by the day, and may include chickpeas, beans, rice, grain or canned tomatoes. His knowledge of Gaza City restaurants and international street food informs his camp cuisine. He prepares tacos, hummus, soup, flat bread, or falafel. 

His Instagram and Tik Tok posts show excited and hungry children watching him work. They also show a scowling chef, whose frown is for the camera, not his guests. That angry gaze, he says, is for the political and social situations that result in hungry children in crowded camps. 

Listen with me to Hamada Shaqoura, a man of faith:

We believed we could do this, despite the scarcity of ingredients and the poorer quality of the food available due to the siege on Gaza over the last 17 years. The taste may remind people of a time before the war. You can give them a sense of hope that this war will end, and we will return one day to the normal lives we deserve. And when we do, we will eat the delicious food we used to. 

~ Sister Susan Schantz

*Photo from Bon Appetit, April 2024