thanksgiving

To celebrate World Day of Prayer for Vocations as Pauline Family-Filipino group in Rome, we had our Eucharist in the chapel of the Society of St. Paul in Via della Fanella yesterday afternoon. We anticipated in a special way Fr. Norman’s 11th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood (May 11).
I really feel we owe it to each other as sisters and brothers “in the Lord” to support and sustain each other in this life of special consecration because at times, we couldn’t help but feel discouraged and be tempted to think that there really is nothing special here and we were just fooling ourselves all the while.
In the shared homily of Fr. Norman and Fr. Cipriano, they admitted that it wasn’t really easy to answer the question “how do you live your priestly life all these years?” “Taking it day by day,” says Fr. Cip. A truly humble but realistic answer! Fr. Norman is much younger and has the challenging job of managing the information service of his Congregation in the global scale. His answer is apt to his mission – he lives his priestly life seeking always to transcend the “local” and moving on to the “global” dimension, getting inspiration from the other Paulines who have come before us and have already reached the other shore. “Local” here could also mean the very technical aspects, including the pestering questions of the female members of the family like “how do you do this and that…!!!”
I didn’t get to tell the group that I too was celebrating something anticipatedly and wanted to celebrate it with them. Maybe I didn’t want to reveal my age!!! During the Eucharist, I silently thanked the Lord for my 29th anniversary of “elopement” with him (May 7). Truly it seems incredible that it has been 29 years when I left home without my parents’ permission to choose to follow this call which wouldn’t leave me in peace. The truth is I am really grateful for having stayed this long and for wanting to continue still in fidelity to the Lord despite all the difficulties. I imagine that like the experience of married couples, my relationship with the Lord has grown throughout these years not inspite of but because of these tests.

At this point, I want to honor a holy man, the spiritual director who guided me as a youth (God bless his soul!). I remember asking him once, “what if I wake up one morning and realize that I just wasted my life following the Lord?” He very wisely answered me, “Come on, you know it couldn’t happen that way if there is a real love relationship at work. Disillusionment happens in time…just as love also grows in time. What's important is that you remain always honest with yourself, with God, with others!”

Vocations Sunday

Tomorrow is Good Shepherd Sunday which is also World Day of Prayer for Vocations. In St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, Pope Benedict XVI will be ordaining 22 deacons to the priesthood. In many places all over the world, there will be multiple activities to arouse consciousness (maybe I should say curiosity!) as to what this call to consecrated life and the priesthood is all about.
As to prejudices, no doubt there have always been and there continue to be many. I remember how years ago, my Auntie asked me discretely after my Papa confided to her that I was thinking of entering the convent: "But why? Have you been frustrated in love?" I told her I had a line of suitors and 2 offers of marriage (I was 20 then!).

Sr. Louise, a co-sister from Ireland produced a short video clip in 2005 for her video course, dealing on this topic. I promise you'll enjoy it. In fact, she already received inquiries whether she was a real nun! Just don't mind the introductory part (she was just a beginner then). Are you ready? If you are, then click here and see that you and I are really "not worlds apart!"

Ocean of Wisdom

As a child, I loved climbing trees and rooftops. Perhaps that was natural – being small, I wanted to see the world from another perspective!?! Later on, as a student of theology, I dreamed of going to the Himalayas. I didn’t get to fulfill that dream but I met a missionary priest who really made it to the Himalayas. It was truly a transforming experience, he said.
Last night, I re-lived the dream as I watched Kundun, a film about the early life of the actual Dalai Lama. His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, is the head of state and spiritual leader of the Tibetan people. He was born on 6 July 1935 at the hamlet of Taktser in north-eastern Tibet. At the age of two the child named Lhamo Dhondup was recognized as the incarnation of the Buddha.
Dalai Lama is a Mongolian title meaning "Ocean of Wisdom" and the Dalai Lamas are manifestations of the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Chenrezig. Bodhisattvas are enlightened beings who have postponed their own nirvana and chosen to take rebirth to serve humanity. For more on the present Dalai Lama, click here.
I was motivated to see this film yesterday due to one word that kept resounding in and around me: Liberation! April 25 in Italy is the Day of Liberation from the Nazis (end of World War II). But more connected to Buddhism, liberation is really the ideal of Buddhists - liberation from suffering which is our natural condition as creatures. On a personal note, I myself am looking for some kind of liberation from a physical suffering, which I have perhaps caused myself out of my ignorance or ingenuousness.
Two important scenes in the film regarding this theme: When the chinese general told the Dalai Lama that China’s intention in entering Tibet is to “liberate” its people, the only response he got was – “China cannot liberate us; only we can liberate ourselves.” Certainly, they were talking on two different planes. The other scene was the dialogue between Mao Zedong and the Dalai Lama, where the former declared “Religion is poison; it has poisoned Tibetan society.” To this the Dalai Lama responded with silence. And I agree with him, it wasn’t worth throwing one’s pearls…
Incidentally, the Buddhists are soon celebrating the feast of Vesakh, with variable dates between May 2-31. This feast commemorates the principal events in Buddha's life. Perhaps one way of participating in their feast and “dialoguing with them” is to recall some of the Dalai Lama’s liberating teachings. See this powerpoint presentation which I received some years ago.

saint Mark

Today is the Feast of St. Mark the Evangelist. Mark was not one of the apostles, like the other evangelist Luke. But the early Christian tradition counted him as a close collaborator of St. Peter. Peter in fact called him “my son” (see 1 Pt 5:13). Navigating in the internet, I found this interesting page which narrates the “acts” of St. Mark. Find out more and click here
Personally, I believe that Mark had to struggle much in following our Lord. It is probable that he learned about faith in Christ through his family – his mother seemed to be well-known to the apostles (see Acts 12:12). Barnabas was his cousin (see Col 4:10). Incidentally, it was Barnabas who recruited Paul of Tarsus for the work of evangelization. They took Mark along along with them on their first missionary journey (Acts 12:25). On the second journey, however, Paul refused to let Mark accompany them (Acts 15:37-39). The episode explained also how Paul and Barnabas parted ways because of this. Intrigues were already present even then!
Years ago, when I did my 30-day retreat with Fr. Charles Wolf, sj, I was introduced to the fascinating Gospel of Mark. Reading it carefully, over and over again (it has only 16 chapters), I realize how “subversive” it is. It just shocks you to reality every now and then. When you feel you have finally understood Jesus, you are again challenged to rethink your position and you discover that you have not understood him enough. An implicit image of this “difficulty of discipleship” is embedded in the Gospel itself. See Mark 14:51-52 – where a young man (wearing nothing but a linen cloth about his body) followed the persecuted Jesus during his arrest in Gethsemane; when the guards seized the young man, he left the cloth behind and ran off naked. Some scholars feel that the evangelist is speaking of himself when writing this line.
This is exactly my experience of the “ironies” of our faith. But then, I also think that Mark has no other choice but present Jesus in this way. As another internet page says: the oldest and the shortest of the four Gospels, the Gospel of Mark emphasizes Jesus' rejection by humanity while being God's triumphant envoy. Probably written for Gentile converts in Rome—after the death of Peter and Paul sometime between A.D. 60 and 70—Mark's Gospel is the gradual manifestation of a "scandal": a crucified Messiah.

Presence

This Sunday’s gospel (Jn 21:1-19) talks of the third time that the risen Jesus appeared to his disciples.
While the first two happened in a closed room (cf. Jn 20:19-31), in this episode by the Lake of Tiberias, the disciples were back in their usual work – fishing. Here in their place of work, while struggling to get a catch for the day’s sustenance, the Lord Jesus appeared to them, but they didn’t recognize him. Only the intuition of love allowed one (the beloved disciple) to shout, “It is the Lord!”
Where do I meet the Risen Lord today? In daily work, in my encounter with people, in the struggles I need to face daily. Certainly there are special places and moments when I feel this presence intensely—in the Eucharist, in prayerful reading of the Word, in my quiet time, etc. But I have always believed that the world is permeated by the presence of God. So says Gerald Manley Hopkins: “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;…”
As a university student (and later as a teacher), I used to spend much time travelling by public transport. In the place where I lived, jeepneys and buses usually played music as a means of attracting passengers. The songs I hear over the radio were my “starters” of conversation with the Lord. Songs such as You’ve Got a Friend (1970’s), I Just Called to Say I love you (1980’s), If We Hold On Together (1990’s), Prayer (2000…), etc. Even here where I presently reside, I usually get "surprised" by radio tunes which become points of contact and interaction with my Divine Master.
What I’m trying to say is that we are always given the chance to perceive the Lord’s presence in our lives daily but we need to “tune in” to his wavelength. His message to us is really just one. In fact, going back to the Gospel reading of today, I really believe that the premise of Jesus’ question to Simon Peter, “do you love me?” is this one message that he repeats to us daily but we simply take for granted (or we are just too obtuse to notice).
It is “I love you!” And his question to us is, “do you love me?” From here flows all action and mission.

consecrated women

Would you believe I was asked twice yesterday from 2 different continents "who are consecrated women?"
And this is how I answered, with some autobiographical resonances certainly. We are women consecrated to God. We use our energies for loving, nurturing, generating life in relation to our fundamental option of answering God's call and dedicating our whole self – body, spirit, soul – to the project which God has for our life, whatever that may be. Our “sequela Cristi” is a “fatal attraction” in the sense that with this we, like Christ, “choose to die”; we sacrifice everything, even our childbearing potential for his sake, hence we renounce to have physical progeny; for some (my parents, for instance), it meant not having any “future” at all!
In the same vein, it is an “other-worldly-falling-in-love”; it’s a life of continuous conversion, always transcending oneself in order to be evangelised to the depth of our being, and hence to be able to witness to a real Gospel quality presence in the society, and contribute in a concrete manner to the transformation of relationships, cultures, history. And it is here that we find our future.
Is this a realistic option? Are consecrated women happy in their choice? I invite you to contemplate the picture which comes with this post.

faith crisis

After John 3, we now have the continuous reading of John 6 from today till next week at Mass. This is one of my favorite episodes in the Gospel of John, not only because of its substance but because of the personal experience I associate with it. Today’s reading narrates the multiplication of the loaves. But further on, we shall be hearing the discourse on the bread of life.
Actually if one reads this chapter closely, one will see here a concrete test of faith – the disciples had to struggle within themselves whether to stay with or depart from Jesus after a very challenging revelation: “my flesh is real food, my blood is real drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” (Jn 6:55-56). In fact, the Gospel had to say openly: “Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him” (Jn 6:66).
Faith in Jesus present in the Eucharistic bread and wine is something I have taken for granted from childhood to adolescence. However, during my student days I used to hang around with some Protestant friends. Some of them, in their zeal to “evangelize me” brought me to film shows about the reformation period showing the abuses of the Catholic church. I also joined their bible studies which were good in themselves but which, I realized later on, had the concrete intention to “rouse me from my slumber” and “convert” me to their denomination. I found it amusing in fact to hear their language: they are the “C’s” (Christians) and we are the “non-C’s” (non-Christians)!
Inevitably, we came to a moment of confrontation regarding the Eucharist. For one thing, it was a revelation for me to know that the mainline Protestants (Methodists, Presbyterans, etc) believe in the Lord's presence in the Eucharist, but only during the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. We Catholics, believe that this presence continues even after the celebration, that’s why we have tabernacles and we have Eucharistic adoration, devotions, etc. This was hard for them to understand and one of them, questioned me outright how could that be. I didn’t know how to answer; certainly it’s a matter of faith in Jesus’ words and the interpretation given to it by my Catholic tradition! Just the same, the question led me to a real crisis. Fortunately, I have always been “provided” with very good witnesses and teachers of the faith. One of them was Fr. Restie Esguerra (God bless him and grant rest to his soul!). We studied John 6 together and came to the conclusion that even if this teaching (on the real presence of the Lord) is so difficult to understand, we have reason to take the words of the Lord as trustworthy. In verses 60-65 of that Chapter, Jesus himself said that it is not an easy teaching and that it could be offensive to some. Be that as it may, the disciples have to make their choice. So do I. And it was then that I made the leap of faith.
I know now that this experience was not an insignificant one. My devotion to Jesus present in bread and wine has actually grown to the point that it has become an integral part of my vocation and mission. Literally, it “makes my day!” Eucharistic faith is for me – Presence pulsing, peace pervading, simple-serene-assuring song: “I-am-with-you!”

return to childhood

Since last Monday, we have been reading portions of John 3:1-36 at Mass. This is the famous discourse between Jesus and the Jewish teacher Nicodemus. One of the most remembered lines here is Jesus’ mystifying statement: “Unless one is born from above, one cannot see the Kingdom of God” (Jn 3:3), to which Nicodemus answered, “Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born again…?”
As I let these words resound in my heart over and over again, a similar gospel passage slowly emerged: "Truly I say to you, unless you change and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 18:3). I carried these lines with me throughout the day and as if to reinforce the message, an email arrived from a friend saying the “same thing” in the concrete context of life. I was inspired to make a simple powerpoint presentation which I’d like to share here.

Remembering...

Last year, at around this time, I was on my first visit to the USA, initially to our communities in New York and Boston, and then to those of the West Coast. Some of my sisters and friends couldn’t believe that it was really my first time to be in the US. They took for granted that America was a familiar place to me. Theoretically, it was. For one, English was almost like my mother tongue. But for people of my generation, familiarity with American culture then was intended more for discovering the “strengths and weaknesses of one’s enemy.” I must admit that in my high school days, the slogan we learned to chant was mostly about fighting “American imperialism!”
But thank God I’ve had the blessing to meet really good Americans and hence, to question the slogans I learned and challenge my prejudices. What’smore, my first-hand experience of American catholicism during my visit last year was really an eye-opener. I had a grand time participating in their liturgy. Our languishing liturgy here in Rome (save for the Vatican celebrations, of course) is no match to theirs. And there were (are) so many other reasons and persons who convinced me that America is a good place to be. Somehow, I came to understand why the Americans I know are quite proud of who they are.
And that’s why I also feel so sorry for the tragedy that took place in Virginia Tech yesterday. My heart goes out to the victims, their families and friends. But I also prayed for the guy who did it, for his family and teachers who were not able to prevent him from falling into this “pit!”
I could only hope and pray that this disaster could act as a wake-up call to the authorities concerned! Meanwhile, I'd like to assure my American friends that we are one with you in this time of sorrow.

Pope

This “little pope” is called Eugenio. His mother dressed him up in this costume last November and brought him to our Liturgical Center in Toronto to look for a pectoral cross that will match his vestments. One of my sisters recognized the mother and asked, “were you not the one frequenting our chapel for a time?” She said yes and that she was actually praying for a child. And Eugenio came! “Why did you dress him as Pope?” my sister continued. “Because I asked for the intercession of Pope John Paul II for my child.”
I’m posting Eugenio’s story here also to remind everyone that today is Pope Benedict’s 80th birthday and 3 days from now, he celebrates his 2nd year anniversary of election to the See of Peter. In case you’d like to send your greetings to him via email, just click here.

Faith

I’ve been pondering over two “easter figures” lately: Mary Magdalene and Thomas. In the resurrection narratives of St. John, these two received close-ups: Mary in Jn 20:11-18 and Thomas in Jn 20:26-29. They both wanted to see and touch the dead and risen Jesus!
Actually, Mary was looking for the dead Jesus. This is important as this is a proof that Jesus really died. Indeed she was there when it happened and she knew exactly where he was buried. She wasn’t expecting the resurrection at all, was she? All she had was terrible grief and pain, now doubled by the fear that she also lost the chance of finding Jesus’ body, the last remains of her beloved Master!
Thomas, on the other hand, was told by the other disciples that the Lord was risen and that they had seen him. But he wasn’t convinced! He too had doubts about the resurrection: the Master was dead and that was it! He even issued his challenge: it wouldn’t be enough for him to see Jesus alive as the others say, but to be sure that it was really him, he would need to see the mark of the nails and touch his wounds!
The way I see it, the Risen Lord took these two in their own terms. To Mary, who was overwhelmed by grief, he appeared gradually. He “waited” as it were, till Mary could “gather her senses” and be in a condition to recognize him. In fact, a simple appearance accompanied by consoling words (“woman, why are you weeping, whom do you seek?”) was not enough. Mary just mistook him for the gardener. He had to call her by name (the Shepherd calls his own by name)! It is the name – the loving knowledge of the person - that awakens the heart to recognition! That was “it” for Mary. No need to examine if it was really Jesus, with wounds and all. The wisdom of the heart is all that matters. Her reaction was instinctive – to embrace her Master! I’d like to imagine that the Lord gave her time to do this too, but not much, since there were more important things to do: the risen Master had to be on his way and Mary had to run and tell the news to the other disciples. Hence, Jesus’ words: “Enough, Mary! But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” We are now in a new “order of things” – the new Covenant has been fulfilled: my Father is your Father, my God is your God – we are one Family, one People!

With Thomas, the Lord was more conceding. Thomas needed to overcome his doubt by touching... Hence the Lord personally invited him: “Come, Thomas, put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas’ response becomes a famous confession of faith: “My Lord and my God!” Actually this Gospel episode was later revealed as a blessing for us. Scholars say that here, Thomas received confirmation and was cured of his doubt but he was at the same time “robbed” of the greater beatitude. True, he was blessed because he saw the Risen Lord but “more blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

When I think of how the Lord takes us “as we are and where we are,” I always remember my own Father’s faith struggle. He was a real God-searcher even if he didn’t say anything to us his children. I perceived it in the radio programs that he listened to; he enjoyed religious debates. He even welcomed “missionaries” who passed by our place – Mormons, Adventists, Iglesia ni Kristo, etc. – and gladly accepted the literatures they offer. So we have a “collection of Bibles” at home. All this search was, however, only in the head level. He was undecided. He wanted to see “proofs,” just like Thomas! He was baptised Catholic but non practicing. I observed that he went to Mass only twice a year – his birthday and the Feast of our Patron Saint; yes, not even Christmas nor Easter!
When I entered the convent, however, he was hit hard! I remember that when I tried to explain to him how special was the religious vocation, he reacted angrily and went away. I pursued him and found him crying silently. He had great ambitions for me as I had for myself, but I was convinced that it was God’s plan that mattered. First, I had to find what that was and all the rest could come later. That conviction gave me the courage to leave my Father and my family.
I realize now that my act of filial “disobedience” also became the proof of God’s power in my Father’s life. Later on, when he came to accept my vocation, he admitted that he was happy about my decision. He came to understand what my vocation meant: he said, “when I think of you, I remember God!” And that’s it – the Risen Lord used me to announce to my Father that God is really ALIVE and is operating in our lives!

My Easter

Haec dies quam fecit Dominus, exsultemus et laetemur! This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it! – We have sung this antiphon for the whole week, morning and evening, to accent the reality that the whole week of Easter is but a “single day’s celebration” as it were, of the Lord’s resurrection.
Personally, my Easter celebration this year is quite different: the accent is more on dealing with death rather than celebrating life. And I guess this is just a realistic response to all that has happened to me, and to my religious family, in these past weeks (see my blogs from March 22 onwards). In fact, “death” continues to speak to me: I hold her amorphous essence and alluring shape… I converse with her and wait…till she with Life, dances and connects!
The short reading at Lauds today particularly comforts me: “None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s. For this is why Christ died and came to life, that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living. (Rom 14:7-9)
There is indeed a very strict connection between life and death, especially if one is a Christian. That connection is Christ himself!

What's in a name?

Today is my Patron Saint’s Day – St. Gemma Galgani (12 March 1878 – 11 April 1903). For those who don’t know her, she was an Italian mystic from Lucca who passed away at 25 years old, gifted with the stigmata (like Padre Pio) – signs of her intimate union with our Lord in the mystery of his passion, death and resurrection. For more on her, you can visit this site: http://www.stgemma.com
Recalling how I chose her (or how she chose me!) to be my patron: before my religious profession ages ago, I thought of honoring my Father, Geminiano, who passed away when I was a novice. I was “Papa’s girl” and was so close to him but I know I gave him a great heartache by entering the convent immediately after college without his approval. I somehow wanted to “make up” to him and carry his “presence” with me in living out my vocation. He, in fact, admitted in very simple words what my vocation meant to him: “when I see you, I remember God.”
While a novice, I looked around for the female version of Geminiano and in reading the books of Fr. James Alberione, the Founder of my Congregation, I came across the name Gemma Galgani several times. Reading about her life, I was attracted by her simplicity and her passionate love for our Lord. At that time, I also started correspondence with an Italian Sister Disciple, by the name of Sr. Gemma dal Massetto, the auntie of Sr. M. Tiziana, the sister who admitted me in the Congregation and accompanied me in the initial stage of my vocational journey.
When I made my profession of vows in 1983, Sr. Gemma sent me a souvenir of her 50th Jubilee of Profession, explaining that it was also the Jubilee Year of St. Gemma Galgani’s canonization. That was actually how she got her profession name too. It dawned on me then that I wasn’t only choosing St. Gemma as my Patron, but that I was also “being chosen” by her. I got the confirmation that my name is “grounded on love” (for my Father) but also “decided in heaven” (by my Patron Saint).
My Patron Saint helps me grow in Paschal spirituality: the Feast of St. Gemma actually fluctuates between Holy Week and Easter Week. One year it could be “Passiontide” (she died on a Holy Saturday), another year it could be “Eastertide.” I guess that this is one way of teaching me what a great honor it is to serve the Lord, to share in his sufferings so as to participate in his resurrection (Phil 3:10).

Cheers to Life!

Today, I'd just like to share the images of our Pasqueta (little Easter) yesterday. Click here and join us in giving cheers to LIFE!

Good Friday

Today, I attended the sacred liturgy in St. Peter’s Basilica. It’s a kind of tradition that I’ve cultivated in these past years: if and when I’m in Rome during Holy Week, I make it a point to attend the Good Friday service in the Basilica, firstly because of the homilist. Every Good Friday, a Franciscan Friar, Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, preacher of the Pontifical Household, delivers the homily in the presence of the Holy Father and the faithful.
His homily today was particularly touching: he expounded on a special category of people present in the Lord’s last hours (cf. Jn 19:25-27) and in the first hours of his resurrection (cf. Jn 20:1-18). He talked of the pious women who followed and served Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem, during his public ministry until his execution and death in the hands of the religious and political leaders. These women, together with the youngest apostle, were the only ones who remained with our Lord at the foot of the cross. And hence, they were also the first ones to whom he appeared in his resurrection!
Fr. Cantalamessa then continues by saying how sad that in the course of Church history, women have been devalued, notwithstanding this Gospel witness. Bringing it down to our times, he spoke of the need to re-consider the riches of feminine gifts especially of tenderness and compassion. He challenged the modern world to consider the importance not only of IQ, of intelligence that is usually exploited by men in order to gain power, but especially of EQ, emotional quotient, of healthy and integrated affectivity, a gift that most women have. Developing EQ is as important as IQ for arriving at full humanity and deeper spirituality.
As I was listening to him, I found it so strange that he was delivering this “potentially dangerous” homily before the Holy Father himself, the Roman Curia and the whole line of bishops and monsignors. Of course there were also women present, lay and religious alike, but either they were at the back of the Basilica or on the other side of the altar, meaning with Fr. Cantalamessa’s back on them. On the other hand, I thought (or I’d like to believe) that he prepared this homily not so much to make the women disciples of today “feel good” but really to bring across a message to the Pope and his male collaborators. I couldn’t help but wonder what the Pope was thinking as he listened to this intrepid Preacher! Will any good come out of it? If you are interested to read the entire text, click here: http://zenit.org/english/ and go to Good Friday sermon of Fr. Cantalamessa.
There was another touching thing that happened to me today in this celebration. Usually when I attend the Good Friday liturgy in the Vatican, I prepare myself to renounce the chance to venerate the cross (the second part of the celebration). I’ve come to accept that it is impossible for the organizers of the liturgy to have thousands of people venerate the Cross, so the solution for them is to reserve it to the Pope, the Cardinals, Bishops and some representatives from the faithful. It happened that at the last moment, a fellow sister who was asked to do it, renounced the privilege and passed it on to me. So there I was, as representative of women religious, together with a handful of lay people going up to the altar to venerate the Cross. It was so meaningful for me, not only because it completed my celebration. I also considered it as a gift in the light of all the sufferings I have been through these past days. I felt that the Lord himself called me to find meaning in pain, sorrow and death together with him. He indeed has borne our sorrows, lived our life, died our death!

In my end is my beginning

My river of life seems to have “stopped flowing” for awhile these days. But now I begin to come to terms with Sr. M. Franca’s unexpected demise and I try to serenely get used to her other form of “presence” in our midst.
During this time of grappling with Mystery, I find comfort in these excerpts from T.S. Eliot’s poem, East Coker, the second of his Four Quartets:

To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
you must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
you must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
you must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
you must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not. (…)

How grateful I am that we have our faith in Christ to sustain us in this moment! Faith in one who has known our sorrows, our pains, our death. Again, T.S. Eliot:

The wounded surgeon plies the steel
that questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
the sharp compassion of the healer's art
resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
Our only health is the disease
if we obey the dying nurse
whose constant care is not to please
but to remind of our, and Adam's curse,
and that, to be restored,
our sickness must grow worse. (…)
The dripping blood our only drink,
the bloody flesh our only food:
In spite of which we like to think
that we are sound, substantial flesh and blood—
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good. (…)

Sr. Franca’s death is some kind of “mystery milestone” for me in my religious life. It taught me, it is actually still teaching me another kind of communion: deeper, more intense, of a totally-other dimension. Notwithstanding the reality and the pain of separation, there is, in fact, perfection and beauty in this boundless, frontier-less presence and union. The end of T.S. Eliot’s East Coker expresses it better:

Love is most nearly itself
when here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
here or there does not matter.
We must be still and still moving
into another intensity.
For a further union, a deeper communion
through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
the wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
of the petrel and the porpoise.
In my end is my beginning.