RETHINK ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

You may think of St. Francis of Assisi as a religious brother wearing a habit.  That came later.  At first he was a Catholic guy out in the woods who wore strange clothes.  Not everybody was thrilled.  It’s hard to imagine that this habit and this religious order that we take as such an institution today was at one time seen as either cutting edge or slightly off and, in either event, very different.  But the way this guy decided to love Christ and live his life continues to have direct influence on us today - even to the way our churches are decorated.  Not one Catholic church today does not have the mark of St. Francis on it.  Just look up at the Stations of the Cross.

At a typical Catholic parish, there are hundreds to thousands of people per clergyman.  It can’t be like the Super Bowl to paraphrase someone more clever than I, where there tens of thousands of people desperately in need of exercise watching 22 guys desperately in need of rest.  We are all called, in different ways, to carry on the work of Christ.

St. Francis’s work was not a ministry of his parish, he didn’t have a budget or an announcement in the bulletin.  He didn’t have an official sponsor or a team T-shirt.  What he did have was love of Jesus and desire to spread His word so he experimented and did it.  Some things were wildly successful and some were not.

Support of an official organization is great when you can get it but not getting it is not an excuse not to serve.  It means be more creative.  The greatest changes in the Church have always come about when an individual man or woman has decided to take the faith seriously, not when they have been awarded poster space in the narthex of the parish church.  

What is your love for Christ calling you to do?

MONDAY DIARY: TO LIFE! TO LIFE! L'CHAIM!

I know.  I know.  I mysteriously disappeared.

I didn’t give up on the blog.  I didn’t do something so mundane as to run away.

But I did go on an adventure.

Last Friday I got up, had Mass, packed up the car, and took off for Connecticut, a state to which I’d never been.  Along the way I picked up Fr. Peter (you remember him?)

and we set off toward the rising sun to witness something I’d never seen before.

St. Clare in Lyndhurst (where this blog was conceived) was the home of a lovely young lady named Brigid.  It was also the my last parish assignment and the home parish of Fr. Peter.  Brigid had determined that religious life was the life for her and after some searching decided to become one of the Sisters of Life in New York.  After years of formation, last Saturday she was to take her final vows and we went to witness and celebrate with her.

Fr. Bline and Fr. Kulway both from the Diocese of Cleveland.  Fr. Bline's first assignment was St. Clare.

Along the way we picked up two seminarians from Ireland who have been in Cleveland studying over the summer.  One’s name is Fergle (and I have no idea how to spell his name.)  He was the, how shall I say it?  Active one.  Loads of fun but terrible at cards.  Stephano was the quiet, deep voiced (sane) one.  They flew in to CT and took them the rest of the way.

So it was that on Saturday morning we put on our French cuffs, shined our shoes, and piled into the Buick for the journey to St. John’s Basilica.  I was unprepared.

The place was jammed!  There were people and cars everywhere.  It looked like the children’s Mass at Christmas except much more orderly.  As we walked along people would ask, “Where are you from?” to which I would proudly replay, “Cleveland” thinking that would get lots of “Ahs” and “Oohs” but instead I was greeted with, “Oh.  And with which sister are you associated?” 

I had naively assumed that our friend would be the ONLY one taking her final vows.  It did not occur to me that there would six!  And now that I think about it, that must be the more regular occurrence as 10 years ago there were only 40 some nuns and now there were over 100.

We vested in the basement and then came upstairs only to be recruited to sit in folding chairs on the immaculate lawn of the rectory to hear confessions.  As the hour approached, we were herded into processional lines and walked up the mountain of stairs to the doors and entered the basilica to the heavenly voices of the nuns and a few token males in the choir mixing their voices with the pipe organ and congregation.

The Mass was presided over by Bishop John J. O’Hara, Auxiliary Bishop of New York.  I was unfamiliar with him and I don’t know why because his homily knocked my socks off.  He knew exactly how to get the congregation whipped up and excited about God and the great work that was happening that day.  He also admitted that he had never done a profession before and was a bit nervous to get the ceremony correct.  But he was aided by expert Masters of Ceremonies whose abilities I greatly admire.  I have seen some MCs flap around the sanctuary like agitated ducks, flapping and quacking.  But this celebration was done with taste and decorum.  

The ceremony itself was remarkably similar to that of the ordination of priesthood.  The nuns were called forward one by one, knelt before their Mother Superior, stated their vows and the Mother would accept the vows.  I had an ideal seat and could see their faces as they knelt at the altar rail waiting for their turn to come forward.  The faces read everything from contemplation of the seriousness of the event to an overjoyed, “Let’s do it!” radiance.

Each of them then came forward and signed their vows which were placed on the altar followed by the entire order greeting each new sister with a formal hug, smile, and word of encouragement that was not unlike, after having been ordained, all the priests filing past the new priests and laying hands on them.

At the end, the Mother Superior thanked everyone who was present.  I was excited that the former papal nuncio Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano was in attendance.  The list of thanks was long but Cleveland got the most shout outs!  Thanks to the people from Cleveland who have supported the order.  Thanks to those from Cleveland who have supplied so much music over the years.  Thanks to the Irish seminarians who are studying this summer in Cleveland.  Thanks to (my buddies) the nuns from Christ the Bridegroom Monastery who made the trip in from Cleveland.

From left to right, me, Stephano, Sisters for Christ the Bridegroom Monastery in Burton, OH, Fergle, Fr. Kovacina.

But the longest, sustained applause was of course for the new sisters.  After we processed down the mountain of steps we saw the newly professed having their picture taken with Mother and the Bishop.  The sun was merciless but all of the nuns (even those all in black) seemed to take in stride.  I, however, was a total wimp and so we made our way to the car and the car’s air-conditioning to begin to unpack what we had been a part of and to look forward with great anticipation the reception.

Picture taken immediately after the Mass.  Sr. Brigid is the furthest left next to the bishop.

To be continued . . . 

HABITUALLY INHABITED HABITATS

There seems to fall a habitual silence when pro-habit and anti-habit nuns meet. Each has passionate reasons for doing that which they do. Long time readers of Adam’s Ale know that I have a pension for habits and collars in a country that is increasingly symbolically and visually oriented. But non-habited nuns did not discard their striking robes without heavy reason and debate and did so hoping to bring advancement to the cause of the mission of the Church.

One nun states, “Though it never succeeded completely, the habit was intended to mute personality, erase individual difference, short-circuit vanity, keep the world at a distance. At the same time, it placed the Sister in a position of high symbolic visibility. "Nuns were always on stage,"’ was how one wise veteran of the era put it. "That was what the habit was for." By adopting contemporary clothing, women religious made a deliberate choice to move off that stage, into the audience so to speak, and toward individual responsibility. "Moving into modem dress had dramatic impact," former nun Mary Griffin recalled in her memoir Courage to Choose, "It revealed to the world in general the human being underneath the habit. But more important, it revealed the nun to herself: it was an experience in recognition.”" (The rest of the article may be found here.)

I have come to realize that my desire for nuns to be habited was just that, my desire for nuns (and religious brothers) to be habited. Does it matter what I desire? No.

In the long run it will not matter if one thinks that wearing a habit is dangerous nostalgia or not wearing them makes them invisible and non-consequential, it will be what works, what promotes the kingdom that will prevail. After all there are many organization and lay movements that meet without outward signs and their activity in the world attracts others to their gatherings. Why could it not be the same with nuns?

Yet I see the large orders of our diocese, the backbone of the burgeoning, growing ages now fading away and the young women searching for religious life not joining these once flourishing orders but choosing to leave the state in search of something they are not finding here.

In contrast to the quote above here is an excerpt from a letter a newly habited nun of our parish wrote recently. “Taking the Holy Habit has really been such an honor, although I honestly feel much too young to have it on. But to be clothed in the white of purity, virginity, baptismal and bridal gown, wearing our weapon the Rosary at my side, covered in Our Lady’s Mantle and protected by her Scapular leaves me really humbled and ecstatic at the same time. To be living witness to the world, to be a sign of hope that there is more than the temporal is a gift. I am really a reminder for myself first that there is a God who loves me intimately, who chose to create me, and is thinking me into existence at the very moment, and then for everyone else of that same reality. And finally as my response to Him is complete YES, I cover my head, to reserve myself for Him only.”

I am almost moved to tears over this statement. Coming from her I know it is authentic. But the question is which life is sustainable; which order will grow over the next 15 years, the former nun's or the latter?

Peppered throughout this post are pictures of religious men and women. They were taken early in the day at the vocations tent at the FEST. I found myself wondering if the people at the other tables were actually religious or not and as I only had about 10 minutes between tours to take pictures, I didn’t have time to inquire. There may be a lesson here. But only time will tell.

Lastly, I do not wish to disparage any of you who are out there quietly plugging away at your vocation as a religious without a habit. We as Catholics get beat up enough without turning on each other. Thank you for your vocation. Thank you for the life you bring to the Church. Thank you for taking God's call in your life seriously enough to take vows as a religious. May God bless you and your mission.

Once again, here is the new site for religous vocations in the Diocese of Cleveland.

THE PRIEST AND THE BIRD

Walking out of the store yesterday I saw a pleasant enough looking young lady riding in a car. She had the window rolled down, her hand extended and her middle finger pointing toward God. At first I thought the thoughtful gesture was aimed in my direction, but then she caught sight of me in my Roman collar and her finger wilted like a wet, hot noodle in boiling water. Simultaneously there was apparently something that she wanted to look at intently in the exact opposite direction from whence I was standing.

Sometimes people wonder if religious garb is passé or unnecessary. Hollywood clearly thinks otherwise. If you need religious symbolism to get a point across, out come the habits and the collars (and the candles and the statues . . .).

I find it patently unfair that when some organizations (who shall remain anonymous) want to raise money all of a sudden out come pictures of nuns in habits that they have not worn for years. But that is because they know the symbolism does something. (That is not to say that there are not perfectly good nuns who do good work who do not wear habits.)

Think of a pan of a crowd in a news segment that catches a priest or sister in religious garb. For that instant, thoughts of Church, God, and Catholicism pop into mind.

When I was a baby priest, occasionally I would be walking down the street and catch a glimpse of myself with my collar on in a store window. It would jolt me into remembering that I was living a very public Catholic life involving powerful symbols and that my actions meant something to other people. It is not about me, a humbling lesson to learn, but about that collar and what it is supposed to represent.

For good or bad, symbols play a huge role in our lives. What a blessing to use this gift to remind people that even in a parking lot of a strip mall on a Thursday God is still present and that we should live our lives accordingly.