The Door Only You Can Open

Dear Friends,

During the course of an average day, you and I open and close at least a dozen doors. To open and close a door is an easy, natural, unthinking act – unless we have forgotten our key or our arms are too full to manage it.

Doors are an integral part of life. They are passageways from where we have been to where we want to go. They offer us privacy and protection from unwanted elements, like the thief who wants to break into a home that Jesus tells us about in today’s gospel.

Doors are also instruments of power. We shut people out or let them in.

Advent is a season for opening some doors and closing others.

It is time to open the door to a deeper, stronger relationship with our Coming God and to open our hearts to people in new or renewed friendship and reconciliation. It is a time to open ourselves to new attitudes, practices and ways of thinking that birth a future full of hope, and to close ourselves off from destructive tendencies.

The scene portrayed at the head of this blog shows Jesus standing at the door and knocking. At the door of the human heart, Jesus knocks and waits for an invitation to enter. If we take a good look at the door in the picture, we see there is no knob on the outside. The door to the human heart can only be opened from within. We have the power to welcome or refuse entry. In order to hear Jesus’ knock, we need to be awake! Jesus tells us so in today’s Gospel: be awake to His coming here and now, awake to His coming when the kin-dom of God is fully formed, awake to celebrate His Incarnation, His Birth once in history

The knock comes and we react to it in different ways. We may be cautious, curious to see who is there, irritated to be interrupted, ashamed that our house is not in order. We may be curt at the door, guarded, fearful, elated. Or we may ignore the knock completely. Go away, God! I don’t want to see You today.

You may think that this idea of opening some doors and closing others is a mild-mannered approach to Advent. Not really.

Two doors immediately come to mind that require personal, hard work to close:

1. Close the door to noise, even briefly, every day and welcome quiet to let the hidden gifts of the season seep into our beings.

2. Close the door to violence. Isaiah in today’s first reading gives us the appealing image of beating our swords into plowshares. Without urging, violence in our world will continue. We need not support it, participate in it, buy it nor give it a place in our homes.

The divine visitor is at our Advent door.

We need only to open it wide with our welcome.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Come to the Table

Dear Friends,

We think about tables around Thanksgiving time. This year, whether we eat at a crowded table or at work or all alone, let us name our past meal companions. Reach back to the tables of your past. Set places for past hosts and guests. Remember that everything happens at the table.  

Here is a poem by Joy Harjo, our first Native American poet laureate.

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

https://www.poetrycenter.org/at-table-poems-inspired-by-us-poet-laureate-joy-harjo/

~ Susan Schantz, SSJ

Living Faithfully in Uncertain Times

Dear Friends,

Remember Chicken Little? In the face of impending doom, she panicked because she thought “The sky is falling in!”

Chicken Little had been dozing in the barnyard, when an acorn fell on her head. In fright, Chicken Little told Henny Penny, Cocky Locky and Turkey Lurky who all became equally distressed. They headed off to give the news to the king when they ran into Foxy Loxy, who inquired where they were going. When Foxy Loxy heard they were going to tell the king that the sky was falling in, Foxy Loxy was helpful, or so they thought. “Come on, I’ll show you a shortcut.” One by one, the birds disappeared into a hole in the ground. We all know what that meant.

All except Henny Penny, who remembered she had an egg in the barnyard ready to hatch. She ran back home, the only one spared the foolishness of fake news and panic.

Only a child’s story? Not really.

History is full of the stories of doomsday preachers who have frightened people by their preaching, crying out that the sky is falling in, meaning that the end of the world is near.

The Thessalonians in today’s second reading expected Jesus’ second coming at any moment. So, they no longer carried their share of the workload of the community. Paul strongly condemned that attitude as unworthy of Christ’s followers. That’s the point of today’s readings. We don’t know, nor does anyone else know when Christ will come again. In the meantime, we must go on with the job of living, the work of building God’s world. Neither panic nor lethargy help in these tenuous times.

These readings resonate for us, because each of us experiences personal cataclysms, earthquakes, uncertainties, wars and insurrections. We live in a complex and uncertain world. Through it all, God is faithful, and even when caught in storms, we can feel the warmth of what Malachi in today’s first reading calls “the sun of Justice with all its rays.”

But to do so, we must be/become attentive to God’s presence.

Today’s Gospel challenges us to examine our lives – to ask demanding questions about our commitments and priorities, to ask ourselves where to expend our time, energy and resources, to become increasingly of what is lasting – what will endure.

In life’s thorny circumstances, we cannot convince ourselves that God is with us with tenderness and constancy, but we do need to be open to the stunning possibility that we are surrounded, held up, shielded, propelled forward, beckoned by a God who loves us.

In essence, Jesus tells us so in the Gospel today: "When you are in deep trouble, do not be afraid. I will give you words and wisdom which no one can contradict. When you are threatened, do not be afraid. Not a hair of your head will be harmed." Jesus concludes this passage with the words: "By your perseverance you will secure your lives."

That’s it. Keep on keeping on in faith and here’s the surprise, with joy, because none of us is alone.

Take courage. Stay with one another and be with our God who is faithful and will not disappoint.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Symbols of Hope and Connection

Dear Friends, 

I voted early this election year. For me, voting is a way to express my commitment to everyday choices for the common good. This year voting was an expression of resistance to apathy.

For several days after I voted, and on election Tuesday, I wore the sticker I Voted Today! This sticker kindled several conversations, not just about issues and candidates but also about voting. Wearing the voting sticker connected me to others at a time when connection is difficult. We talked about claiming the power of everyday choices in a time when these choices feel less effective. 

The voting conversations got me thinking about paper clips. The paper clip became a national symbol of resistance in Norway during WW2 and was worn as a nonviolent protest of the 1940 German occupation. The Germans attempted to strip away Norway’s culture and replace it with Nazi ideals. Norway’s teachers were told to join the Nazi Party and teach Nazism in the classroom, and the church was told to teach obedience to the leader and the state.

In the autumn of 1940, students and teachers at Oslo University started wearing paper clips on their lapels as a non-violent symbol of resistance. The paper clip was simple in nature and widely available. Its use spread throughout the population of Norway. Norway had one of the strongest Nazi resistances on the entire European continent and the strongest contingent were the teachers and students. Despite their tremendous suffering, they banded together with their fellow citizens, continuing to resist until the end of the war. The paper clips were a symbol of solidarity, first in communicating with each other and, later, as a national expression of resistance. 

I’ve begun wearing a paper clip. It connects me with brave people in history. Perhaps, like the voting sticker, it will connect me with others who now choose to act for the common good.

In hope,
Susan Schantz SSJ

Remembering the Saints and Souls in Our Lives

Dear Friends,

It’s a healthy and life-giving practice to celebrate All Saints/All Souls Day with people throughout our Church. We celebrate our loved ones, people whose faithfulness to God we admire, on a day apart from their own day of death with its lingering sadness. In Mexico, the Day of the Dead finds people building altars in their homes on which to place mementoes of their beloved dead. Family and friends gather to celebrate the loved ones who have died. The celebrations spill out into neighborhoods.

In this way of looking at death, victory has been achieved.

For Jesus on the cross on Good Friday, the victory is also achieved.

Among His last words in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says,
“It is finished.”

Most of the time, readers interpret that phrase as,
“It is over. I am done.”

There seems to be a tone of overwhelming pain in those words.

But a woodworker, having lovingly created, let’s say a table, rubs it with polishing powders and pastes, waxes and oils to bring out the texture of the wood, its deep colors and essential patterns. When the woodworker is satisfied, s/he says:
“It is finished.”

That means it has achieved its maximum gloss, its beauty has been revealed. It is complete.

On the cross, as death winged its way toward Him, Jesus could say, “it is finished.” He realized He was complete. This side of death, His fullness had been achieved.

Today, find some mementoes of your beloved dead around the house – a photo, a gift given to you, something that was in your household growing up which you claimed for your own. Put these pieces in a prominent place where you can see them for the next week or two and relish the life of the one whose memory they represent.

In the words of today’s psalm, we also pray for our own hope for eternal life:

One thing I ask of the Lord, this I seek To live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life…I believe I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

One of Us

Dear Friends,

I am old enough to remember some of the lyrics for Joan Osborne’s 1995 hit, One of Us.

What if God was one of us
Just a stranger on the bus?

If God had a name
What would it be?

What would you ask if you
had just one question?

What if God was one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home.

The Gospel faith of Christians answers that question with the revelation of Jesus, God and human. Paul preaches that Jesus is indeed like us in all things, save sin. Our artists and poets, theologians and preachers, and, yes, songwriters and singers, keep this mystery alive for us.

What if God is the stranger on the bus? During my late twenties, into my thirties, I was a grad student and rode the bus daily. I saw the kindness of strangers. I witnessed the fidelity of commuters, the patience of parents, the loneliness of those who reached out for conversation. I heard drivers use names of regulars and cheerfully comment on weather and traffic. I watched other passengers offer a seat to an elder or a person with physical challenges. I saw fellow travelers progress through illness and aging.

I was a seminary student on my way to class. I learned from other passengers that the heart of Jesus beats on the bus. I learned to listen graciously to a talkative old man. I watched a kind woman help to calm a young man in distress. With two other passengers, I attended a funeral of a woman who was a regular on the Lake Avenue route. Each day we commuted, Jesus was on that bus. We travelers witnessed and received and shared his merciful attention. He rode with us and there were days when we were not really strangers.

~ Susan Schantz, SSJ

The Power of Persistence

Dear Friends,

Today’s Gospel offers us as a model of prayer a woman who comes before the judge with her request, repeatedly until he relents, lest he be exhausted by her persistence. As I thought about her more, it became clear to me that this woman is one of a group of feisty women in the Gospel who are also persistent in their requests of Jesus. Persistence means not letting go, realizing there is more effort to be made, and that the effort goes on until the time is right for resolving the need.

Stand this woman next to the woman with the hemorrhage that flowed for 18 years. Talk about a healing a long time coming! Jesus was on his way to cure a little girl at the time that the woman touched Jesus.  She didn’t ask Jesus to touch him. In fact, she didn’t ask anyone if she could touch Jesus. This woman mingled in the crowd, put out her hand to touch the tassel of his garment and felt healing course through her. He felt it too. (Mark 5.28-33) She was persistent in her belief she would find the healer whether he knew it or not, however long it took, and she did.

On another occasion, Jesus was in a foreign place, when a woman - a foreigner herself - approached him. Her daughter needed healing. At first, Jesus said no, that he was sent to heal the broken of Israel. But she persisted. The woman and Jesus did some verbal sparring, probably more playful than the solemn interpretation we put on it. In the end, her persistence won out. (Matt.15.21-28)

In John’s Gospel, Jesus was at a wedding with his disciples. His mother was there as well and she noticed a social disaster in the making. The wine was running out. She went to her son and said: “Son, they have no wine.” Jesus seemed to put her off, but with the persistence of a mother, she said no more to him but turned to the steward. “Do whatever he tells you.” (John 2.5) Sometimes persistence needs to involve others in fulfilling the need, with only a few words.

Thinking about Mary Magdalen offers us another aspect of perseverance. When she went out to the garden on Easter morning, Mary Magdalen expected to find Jesus behind the stone in the tomb. But the stone was rolled away, and the tomb was empty. (John 20.11 ff) Where was Jesus? She persevered in looking for him until she found him. He was not what she expected. When we dare to look for Jesus to pursue our desires, we find him, not as we expected, not where we expected but he is there, ready to speak our name and engage us.

Are we like this group of women who pray and do not lose heart? Personal, thorny issues sap our energy, and we want to give up. National and international crises as well as local problems beat on us. These biblical women encourage us to go on: stay the course and not lose heart. God stands with outstretched arms at the end of our persistence.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Three Hopeful Moments

Dear Friends,

My hope is challenged these rough months. You can probably relate. Here are three of my moments of hope from the past month.

September 20, 2025
Last month, the Rochester, NY, Sisters of Saint Joseph gathered with partners and friends to celebrate the anniversaries of women and men seasoned in ministry, faith, and life experience. Together the community of Joseph reminisced about call, ministry journeys and beloved companions. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they recognized Jesus in the word and in the breaking of the bread.

October 8, 2025
At his general audience, Pope Leo spoke to more than 60,000 pilgrims. Among them was a group of students from Our Lady of Mount Carmel Academy in Chicago, IL. The children wore robes and uniforms from their springtime performance of a papal conclave. The excited young pilgrims visited with Pope Leo, who had been elected two days after their performance. Their joy was evident and infectious. What will be the future challenges for these young disciples?

October 9,2025
This morning’s news announced a tentative peace plan for Hamas and Israel. There are celebrations in Israel and Gaza. There is cautious hope and continuing prayers for a permanent peace accord. Images of death, ruins, and famine call out to the world’s believers to respond: What sort of peace will follow this war?

Those are my three moments. Printed below, some words of Pope Leo from that October 8 general audience.

In hope,
Susan Schantz SSJ

This is the greatest surprise: to discover that beneath the ashes of disenchantment and weariness there is always a living ember, waiting only to be rekindled…Christ's resurrection teaches us that no history is so marked by disappointment or sin that it cannot be visited by hope. However distant, lost or unworthy we may feel, there is no distance that can extinguish the unfailing power of God's love.

Embracing the Light

Dear Friends,

In our part of the world, darkness already falls before 7:00 PM. By December, travelers will be surrounded by darkness at 4:30 PM. This annual phenomenon nonetheless catches us off guard. So, let’s poise our minds and hearts and imaginations to embrace the light – enough to see us through the darkening times ahead.  

In the book of Genesis, the first act of God’s creation is light. Chapter One. Verses 3-4: the sun for the day and the moon for the night. Let there be light, God said. Evening came and morning followed the first day.

Our world has never been without the light, a daily image of the God who created it. Centuries later, Hildegarde of Bingen would pray to “the Living Light” – God, the source and model of all the light we know. 

True, in the deep, cold north and south, daylight gives way to seemingly endless night. Since the invention of sunlamps, parents in the Nordic countries have their children spend a portion of the day in artificial sunlight, lest their growth be stunted. Depression and substance abuse also threaten adults in such darkness. Artificial light, a replica of divinely generated light, helps.

Light is the daily companion of the world.

In the Scriptures, the word light is used over 300 times. In the Old Testament, long before Hildegarde, God is identified with the light. “The Lord is my Light and my Salvation,” we sing in Psalm 27.1. “The Lord will be a light to me,” Micah proclaims (7.8).

Jesus refers to himself as the light of the world (Jn 8.12) and in Mt. 5.14 he tells us “you are the light of the world.” 

In Luke 8.16, Jesus tells the crowd, “No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel or sets it under the bed; rather he places it on a lampstand so that those who enter may see the light.” In the time of Jesus, houses consisted of one room. One lamp was enough for all to see. The light was not for the people inside, but for those coming in. Hospitality requires light. 

It is said of some people that “they light up a room when they come in.” What an incisive remark! People light up the environment for one another. Is that you? Is it I? 

Paul in Romans 13.13. encourages his readers to “cast off the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.” 

Unless we do all the things that our faith encourages us to do as darkness in its various forms encroaches on our lives we will lose our desire for the light. Our taste for the light fades and we become satisfied with shadows and full darkness.

Here’s a prayer for you to use or to modify to embody your own personal need for the light:

Creator of unfailing light, give that same light to all of us who recognize that we need you and call upon you. May our lips praise you for creating light; our lives proclaim your goodness, our works give you honor, and our voices celebrate you forever.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Tangled Prayers

Dear Friends,

How is your prayer this autumn? When I begin to pray, I am a woman with a tangle of yarn in her lap. Each strand, each knot, each bright unraveling is a concern I bring to God. 

A family friend is critically ill. The world - Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan - is at war. Some abuse survivors finally received a monetary settlement. US bishops work on behalf of migrants. Our family excitedly awaits a new baby. The patriarchy is thriving. This autumn day is gloriously blue and gold.

In this quiet, sacred time, I pray joy and lament, petition and peace. The colored threads clash and blend as I hold them. I ask for courage to walk with God and the neighbor. I hope and let go. 

Praying with you,

Susan Schantz SSJ

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

Summer Travel, Anyone?

Dear Friends,

Where are you going this summer? Some of us might answer that we aren’t going anywhere, because we have no vacation plans or family visits coming up. In the deepest sense, though, each one of us really is on the road. Together, we are travelling toward the future. Each community, family, and individual has already left the home of the past.

You may travel reluctantly. You may feel you have no choice about the itinerary. You may want to ignore the upheaval in our world. You may want to ignore the news. You may want to silence others’ noisy cries and shouts. You may draw back from change or challenge in family, in your health, at work.

Nevertheless, God calls you to travel. There is a place for you in this crowd of pilgrims. There are companions who need you. Your prayer matters. Your faith matters. You have a disciple’s work to do.

Pay attention and you will know the next right thing. With God-given fellow travelers you will

• raise a grandchild;
• work a 12-step program;
• phone a legislator;
• drive a friend to chemo;
• live with chronic illness;
• work at a shelter;
• pray with a heart that pays attention.

As poet Mary Oliver wrote

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.

With you on the road,
Susan Schantz SSJ

Treasuring Our Earth

Dear Friends,

Last weekend, the Sisters of Saint Joseph from across the country and abroad celebrated our 375th Anniversary of life and service to the dear neighbor. The gathering, held in Kansas City, MO, brought together Sisters, associates and partners in ministry, all of whom find inspiration in Saint Joseph.

The Saturday morning keynote speaker was Brentwood Sister Elizabeth Johnson, a well-regarded theologian. Now retired, Sister Elizabeth's theological thinking has not stopped evolving over the years. In recent writings and in this talk, she aligns herself with Pope Francis’s encouragement to care for our common home – the earth.

With her, I invite us to enlarge our values to actively include a tender regard for the world in which we live. We have to only pay attention to the daily news to know how much this emphasis is needed: hurricanes, tornadoes, blistering heat, floods, devastating fires. Nature is in pain and so are we. We need to act.

We can send contributions to relief agencies, but that is really not enough. We need to form new personal and communal habits that honor the world in which we live.

Pope Francis wrote ten years ago in his encyclical Laudato Si’:

“Ecological culture cannot be reduced to a series of urgent and partial responses to the immediate problems of pollution, environmental decay and the depletion of natural resources. There needs to be a distinctive way of looking at things, a way of thinking, an educational program, a lifestyle and a spirituality which together generate resistance to the assault on nature brought on by technology. (n.111)

Taking a cue from Pope Francis, Sister Elizabeth Johnson

• encourages us to become conscious of all of nature in our prayer. When we pray for “all of us” in the psalms and other prayers of the church, we really mean all of creation.
• invites us to consciously choose to watch nature programs on PBS or read National Geographic to see the remarkable way in which nature expresses the glory of God.
• reminds us that we can take part in ecological projects, however small, to hold back the overwhelming tide generated by those whose actions do not uphold life to the full.

To paraphrase Pope Francis, we are called upon to protect, restore, improve and beautify creation as something that belongs to everyone.

As he concludes Laudato Si’, Pope Francis invites us to pray

Triune Lord, wondrous community of infinite love,
Teach us to contemplate you
in the beauty of the universe,
for all things speak of you.
Awaken our praise and thankfulness
For every being you have made.
Give us the grace to feel profoundly joined
To everything that is.

This summer, watching the fireflies send out their light, smelling the fragrance of growing crops in the fields, looking up at the vast sweep of stars across the nighttime sky, pledge with me to treasure the earth anew now.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Visiting Friends

Jesus in the House of Martha and Mary

By American artist Eileen Kennedy

Dear Friends,

Some Sunday readings are so familiar that we can whisper the words along with the reader. This Sunday’s gospel reading (Luke 10:38-42) is one of those familiar stories.

• A woman whose name was Martha welcomed Him….
• Mary sat beside the Lord, at His feet, listening to Him.
• Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.
• Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.

This story carries such strong feelings. Each time I hear or read it, I am invited to a different perspective, pulled toward one character or the other. I’ve found many words written about this trinity of friends, but in this post I share a painting for your own reflection.

In her painting, North American artist Eileen Kennedy (eileen-kennedy.com) blocks any easy interpretation. Martha moves in on Mary and Jesus, wielding a noisy vacuum cleaner. She looms angrily over Mary. (Has Martha already bumped into Mary’s chair?) Mary ignores Martha, and we suspect that this isn’t the first time she’s done so. Jesus the visitor sits partly hidden by a screen and pretty flowers. A cat settles serenely next to Mary.

You are invited this week to this scene in this room. Here are some questions for reflection.

1. Is there a figure with whom you identify most? Are you an uncomfortable visitor? A bemused observer? An enraptured listener? An irritated outsider? An unappreciated worker?
   
   
2. Is the room your faith community? Your family? Your nation? Your own divided heart?
   
   
3. Who is an outsider? Who is the one who welcomes? Who prepares space for three friends?

Hoping for welcoming spaces for all,

Susan Schantz SSJ

Celebrating Mary the Tower

Artwork by Eileen Cantlin Verbus

Dear Friends, 

One of our great summer liturgical feasts is the celebration of Mary Magdalen, the Apostle to the Apostles, on July 22nd. We know her, but we don’t know her well.  

Luke alone tells us that Mary of Magdala was first among women to follow Jesus during His public ministry and that He, Jesus, had restored her to strength and fullness (8.1-2): “Accompanying Jesus were the Twelve and some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities [including] Mary of Magdala from whom seven demons had gone out…”  

In Gospel times, to identify someone as being “of” a certain place was not to emphasize a specific location but it was a way of identifying a person with reverence within a community. This Mary: Mary of Magdala, and no other. Twelve times in the Gospel accounts, Mary of Magdala is named exactly that way. One interpretation of Magdala is that Mary was from the village of Magdala. Recent biblical scholarship tells us that a “Magdala” is a Tower, so another way of thinking of Mary of Magdala is a “Mary the Tower.” So we have Peter the Rock and Mary the Tower. Both treasures of early church leadership. Moreover, placement in a list of names, in biblical times was significant. Mary Magdalen is always named first in a list of women present at the death and burial of Jesus and at the empty tomb. 

Nowhere in Scripture is she ever called a prostitute. Her very clear place in the community got conflated in subsequent centuries with the nameless women who anointed Jesus with oil or were identified as prostitutes. Pope Gregory the Great (540-604) was notable in his designation of Mary Magdalen as a public reformed sinner. The image stuck for centuries.  She became a wanton woman in need of repentance and a life of hidden and silent penitence. Gone was the revered title “Apostle to the Apostles,” given to her perhaps as early as the third century by Hippolytus. Enter Mary Magdalen of Jesus Christ Superstar and The Last Temptation of Christ. Not the true Mary of Magdala, the Tower.

Even though Mary of Magdala was at the cross and burial, these alone would not be sufficient to elicit the great regard the early church had for her. Most importantly, she was venerated as the first witness of the Resurrection the first to see the Risen Christ in the Gospel of John.

There in the garden, on the morning of that first day of the week, Mary lingered after Peter and John had departed without seeing Him. She wept and she did not recognize Jesus until He spoke her name: Mary. That she recognized the voice of Jesus calling her underscores that Mary is a true disciple, who then went, at Jesus' command, to tell the others that He was alive. 

“I have seen the Lord” she told them, long before Paul used those words, “I have seen the Lord,” to confirm his own discipleship.

The witness of Mary to the Resurrection was so clearly accepted by the early Church that it could not be dislodged as the Gospel texts were being framed. Who would have thought that God would want the primary witness of a woman to such a defining moment of faith?

Let’s celebrate Mary of Magdala on July 22nd. She is our friend, companion, a faithful woman, a tower of strength and courage.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Summertime, and the Learning is Easy...

Dear Friends,

Here are some online sites that help me connect with other believers. If you visit these sites, you will find news, scripture reflections, interviews, and prayer resources. Enjoy!

God’s Word, Many Voices (godswordmanyvoices.org)

• weekly Sunday scripture homilies
• gifted and educated lay Catholic writers
• home grown in Rochester diocese

United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (usccb.org)

• scripture for weekdays and feasts, with daily e-mail and podcast
• news and official statements by our bishops
• resource for questions about liturgy and Church teaching

Pope Leo and the Vatican (vatican.va)

• pictures and daily news bulletins
• texts of Pope’s homilies and statements
• written and visual resources for church history, practice, doctrine

America Magazine Podcasts (americamagazine.org)
There are several, the latest one being The spiritual life with Fr. James Martin, SJ

• Interviews on life with God
• Guests include Cardinal Timothy Radcliffe, OP; Mary Karr; Stephen Colbert; Whoopie Goldberg; Pete Buttigieg

Daily TV Mass (dailytvmass.com)

• well produced 30-minute Canadian broadcast
• excellent homilies and some music
• our SSJ Motherhouse community has been praying with this community five times a week since COVID

Hoping for your summer refreshment,

Susan Schantz SSJ

Peter, Paul, and the Path of Compassion

Dear Friends,

Each time June 29 falls on Sunday, the liturgical calendar sets aside the readings of Ordinary Time and invites us to celebrate two giants of Christianity, Peter and Paul.

Peter and Paul were both Jews by birth. Peter was a fisherman by trade, Paul, a tentmaker. Peter fed people and lived under the sky. Paul created shelters for people to take refuge from the elements and the creatures that inhabited it. 

Jesus came upon Peter at his boat and called Peter right then and there. Peter followed Jesus immediately. Paul did not walk the roads of the Galilee and Judea with Jesus and Peter. Paul only came to know Jesus after the resurrection, but nonetheless as intimately.

Paul and Peter received new names from Jesus. Simon became Peter, the Rock. Saul became Paul, the missionary. With them, as with us, new names meant a new call, a new future.

Paul, the fiery, fearless preacher, and Peter, the acknowledged leader of the early Church, were not without faults. Paul hunted down the early Christians and sent them to prison. Some of those who stoned Stephen left their cloaks at Saul’s feet. Peter ran away as Jesus was arrested. A short time later, Peter denied that he knew Jesus. Peter and Paul were leaders who knew what it meant to be human, fragile.

It’s good to keep this fragility in mind in our times since the sexual abuse scandal broke in 2002. Then, the weaknesses of our current Church leaders came to the fore. The pain and humiliation touched us all.

I suspect that, even today, the anger, bitterness, and cynicism about the church lingers in many of us. It makes us lose our taste for Church and all it offers. Some of us leave.

But let’s stay the course. Let’s suffer with the abused. Compassion means precisely that, “to suffer with,” and let’s hold them in prayer, that they might experience a healing of memories and restored hope, dignity and joy in their lives. That is compassion to which we are called.

But we are also called to be with the perpetrators, the abusers, and the bishops as well. This is hard to hear. This is the real test of our compassion. Can we stand with another when it doesn’t feel good or look good?

From the example of Jesus, we find the courage to attempt this way of being. Jesus was crucified between two thieves. There wasn’t one cross, but three. To bystanders, Jesus was painted with the same brush as the other two: tainted and guilty. Jesus carried everything without protesting his innocence, though he was.

Can we help carry one of the darker sides of our Church’s history without protesting its unfairness or distancing ourselves from it?

This is the challenge of living compassionately in this community of God’s people.

May Peter and Paul, who knew fully what it meant to be human, be with us on the way.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Body and Blood

Dear Friends,

As we move toward the end of June, the Catholic Church celebrates the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, also known as Corpus Christi. The stark words "body and blood" evoke images of our June 2025 news reports. No one reading this blog post is ignorant of the news of broken bodies and spilled blood.

Ukraine. Gaza. Israel. Sudan.

Minnesota. Texas. New York. California.

These deaths spring from violence and conflict. They are born of division and prejudice, racism and intolerance. What place do these harsh images have in the celebration of Eucharist? Our sacred meal commemorates the death and rising of Jesus and celebrates our baptismal unity with him in this mystery. In this feast day mass, a portion of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians recalls Jesus’ words and action,

"This is my body that is for you….

This cup is the new covenant in my blood."

The early Christians knew these words by heart, as do we. The words articulate our faith and remind us that we are one in Christ. However, when we read the verses ahead of this passage, we recognize a divided community. Paul points out separate food and seating for rich and poor, slave and free. He writes of neglect of some members’ needs. Was not the first Jesus community free of such separation? Were they not one in mind and heart in their prayer and their ministry?

Our own Eucharistic celebrations contain the same contrasts, the same light and shadow, the same love and indifference. When we hear Jesus’ words repeated at Mass, let us also hold space for the words of Paul. He and other preachers and prophets through the ages call us to share Jesus’ body and blood that we might attend to the suffering of his beloved community.

In hope,
Susan Schantz SSJ

Gazing at God: A Trinity Sunday Reflection

Dear Friends,

Today is Trinity Sunday, the only day in the liturgical calendar when we, as a faith community, gaze at our God in wonder. God: community of being. God, who has been misunderstood over the centuries, as uncaring, immune from our suffering, too hidden for us to know, who evokes fear and watches us from afar as an impartial observer. God who keeps a list of our sins. This God does not exist, says the American theologian, Catherine Mowry LaCugna (1991).

No. This is not the God we celebrate today, appreciate and hold close. Today’s feast leads us to honor and treasure “a personal God who is as close to us as a heartbeat, as near as the breath we breathe.” (LaCugna)

“God,” my friend, Father Gary Tyman, says “is a verb. God happens. When people who are adversaries come together in understanding, forgiveness and reconciliation, that is God happening. When someone suffering from alcohol or drug addiction decides to enter treatment, that is God happening.” I think further. When our relationships become more than just the two of us, God happens. Whenever profound things occur in human life, God happens.

The spiritual writer, Macrina Wiederckehr, speaks directly to this God who wraps us in a daily, unending embrace:

You are extravagant with your love.
You drown us with devotion and understanding.
You leave me breathless, thoughtless.
Master, Teacher, Friend, Lover, Parent,
Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer…
I try to encompass all Your names, but they slip from my grasp.
When I hold nothing, I hold You.
When I hold You, I hold everything.                          Seven Sacred Pauses, 2008

This way of celebrating the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity makes it a feast of affection for our God who embraces us and welcomes us into the family of God. Once we were not. But once we came into being, we belonged—to our own families and to the very family of God.

Our life stories are interwoven with the very life of God. We are continually being drawn into the life of God. Today, together, we welcome this call.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

All in One Place Together

Dear Friends, 

We celebrate Pentecost this Sunday. The reading from Luke tells us that Jesus’ followers were all in one place together. Jesus had told them Go and make disciples of all nations. Now they gather and wonder just how to fulfill this mission. Now they wonder how safe they are in Jerusalem. They try to encourage each other. Now they draw on the memories of Easter and worry about what’s ahead.

The Spirit comes to them. Hopes are rekindled. The believers leave the house and mingle and pray and preach in the crowd of Jewish pilgrims. The Jesus people are becoming a gift to the world, starting from that Jerusalem home. The Spirit sends them out. 

Luke tells us that the disciples’ words could be heard by all, whatever the native language. Jesus’ words would be preached in every language. Jesus’ healing and mercy would unfold in many cultures and in all creation.  

This Pentecost I am feeling the challenge of being a member of a world church. The world overwhelms me with news of conflicts and scientific developments and diverse cultures and belief systems. There are stories of good and of evil. There are many preachers and leaders and heroes and saints. 

So, what is my own prayer this Pentecost? I pray to learn others’ languages of need or faith or love. May I hear each day the ones who call me by name. May I steadily pray and act on behalf of the poor who call my name. And may I wonder with other disciples how to respond to the voices of many nations.

In the Spirit,

Susan Schantz SSJ

Being an Active Listener Like Jesus

Dear Friends,  

The term “active listening” would not have appeared in the language of Jesus’ time, but he certainly did just that. If Jesus had not been an active listener, there would have been no miracles, no deepening of faith and community. The understory of the Gospel is that Jesus looked at the people who came his way and loved them into new life. He listened to how their lives unfolded, and he took up their healing. On this Sunday between Ascension and Pentecost, as we have just entered into the summer season, let’s pray that we will follow Jesus’ lead in this sensitive way of being with people this summer. 

But what are some of the qualities of the active listener? 

The true and active listener stops moving, stops reading and apparently listening while, in fact, their eyes are following something else. The active listener wants to know more about the person being engaged: his/her stories of change, growth, humor and sadness, tragedy and moments of rescue. Only small portions of a person’s story can be revealed in a brief conversation, but it may be enough to garner a sense of the person. There are gray areas, ambiguities in human experience. With an active listener, these may well come into focus.

I find that chance conversations sometimes loosen people’s memories or desires to talk about something. It is a blessing for both speaker and listener. People are wary of personal storytelling. Maybe, in times past, they shared a piece of themselves, only to be shouted at, disrespected, judged, rendered joyless. 

The active listener puts aside his/her own need to tell and draws out the threads of the other person’s story and abides in that story, however briefly. 

John ends his Gospel with these words: “There are many other things that Jesus did, but if there were to be described individually, I do not think the whole world would contain the books that would be written.” (John 21.25) 

I hope we can believe that many of these things that Jesus did involved listening to people.  

How Jesus was with people is how we, as his followers, are called to be with people this summer.

~ Sister Joan Sobala

Ascension Missioning

From Christ Episcopal Church Glen Ridge New Jersey

Dear Friends,

What does the ascension of Jesus mean to us? This feast will be celebrated in my diocese on Thursday May 29. It commemorates Jesus’ leaving the disciples after commissioning them to continue the loving ministry and witness they had developed among them.

Reflect on the disciples’ feelings about Jesus’ leaving them. They’ve been consoled by his words and touch in the days since Easter. The recovery of presence and purpose during the weeks after Easter is threatened by the cessation of Jesus’ visits to the upper room and the lake shore. When these visits cease, the disciples are left behind, yearning for the spirit to take up ministry, to journey and preach, to tend the poor among them, to work out their relationship with Jewish and Gentile believers.

Do we recognize ourselves in this disorganization, in this grief, in this longing for direction? Where in our lives as believers are we confused, worried, or feeling abandoned? What turning points or transitions shake our faith in these days of 2025? What hopes have been abandoned? Are there any hopes being gradually rekindled? Where are we called to journey in the months ahead?

In this time after Easter and before Pentecost take some time with the disciples as they share sadness and hope, grief and faith. Take time to kindle hope as we wait for the fire of the Spirit. Here is a prayer for these days.

On the Death of the Beloved

by John O’Donohue

You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,

Where no storm or night or pain can reach you

Let us not look for you only in memory,

Where we would grow lonely without you.

You would want us to find you in presence,

Beside us when beauty brightens,

When kindness glows

And music echoes eternal tones.

Peace,
Susan Schantz SSJ

Continuing Jesus' Work

Dear Friends,  

On Easter Sunday and for the first few weeks following, the Sunday readings focused on the event of the Resurrection and the early believers’ experience of the Risen and Glorified Jesus.   

Beginning last week though, and for the weeks before the Ascension, the focus changes to the impact of Easter on shaping the early Church. 

Christ entrusted to His followers the work He began. We see this in the story of the early church in the Acts of the Apostles and in the letters of the New Testament. 

That work is summed up in today’s Gospel, where Jesus gives His disciples one comprehensive, all-encompassing charge: 

Love one another as I have loved you.   

It takes a person a lifetime to sample, deepen, develop, and do what Jesus calls us to do in living out the one indispensable aspect of discipleship. 

We are on our way. 

Sometimes analogies help us grasp what the Risen Jesus has entrusted to us. (I found this somewhere but give it to you without quoting the unknown reference.) 

Giacomo Puccini, the great composer, wrote the memorable Madame Butterfly, Tosca and La Boheme. In 1922, Puccini was diagnosed with cancer. Undaunted, he announced: “I want to write one more opera.” So he began to write Turandot. “But what if you die?”, his students asked him. "Then my students will finish it." In 1924, Puccini died, Turandot was unfinished and his student took up the task. 

Turandot’s premier performance was in Milan’s La Scala Opera House under the direction of Puccini’s best student, Arturo Toscanini. The gala performance went on until it came to the point where the composer laid down his pen. Tears streaming down his face, Toscanini put down his baton and turned to the audience. “Thus far the master wrote, and then he died.” 

Toscanini picked up his baton again. His tear-stained face was wreathed in smiles. Toscanini shouted to the audience "But his disciples finished the music!” And they had. 

That’s love and dedication – generous and willing to pick up the unfinished work of the master – and for us, disciples of the Risen Lord, we continue the unfinished work of Christ. 

~ Sister Joan Sobala

A Book Full of Names

This Sunday is Mother’s Day in the US and I will leaf through my mom’s prayer book. It holds much more than its worn pages of prayers. I will see a few faded family photos and a yellowed Erma Bombeck newspaper column, entitled If I Had My Life to Live Over. A fragile bookmark is signed Love, Lila. That’s from my mom’s aunt, Sister of Saint Joseph Loyola Guider who died in 1948. There is an index card in mom’s writing, A Prayer for Husbands and Wives. There is a clipping of a letter to the editor written by my brother Stephen. There are death notices for my sister and my father. 

Mom’s prayer book still breathes relationships and connections. Her prayer, like her life, was full of names. She told me once that when she prayed at night, she would simply name each of her loved ones and ask God to take care of us. 

For many North American churches, it is also Good Shepherd Sunday. Like God, our Good Shepherd, mothers know us and call us by name. And, this Sunday, there is another shepherd on believers’ minds. By the time you read this reflection, we will know the name of the next Bishop of Rome. Let’s add his name to our own prayer. May he be a shepherd like Jesus, like Francis. May he be a shepherd like Brazilian Bishop Pedro Casaldaliga who wrote four days before his death:

At the end of the road, they will say to me:

Have you lived? Have you loved?

And I, without saying anything, will open my heart full of names.

Peace,

Susan Schantz SSJ