Our Lady of Combermere - Part 13

DAUGHTER OF ISRAEL

by Fr. Emile Brière

The main purpose of this column is to remind you of the love and tenderness of God and his Mother, Our Lady of Combermere, for you.

 

Our Lady of Combermere is also both daughter and mother of Israel. This month we have a testimony from Miriam Stulberg, of Jewish descent, who came to MH over 25 years ago as an American agnostic.

 

I think the important thing to note is that I’m not a convert from Judaism. As you said in your introduction, I came here an agnostic. A short while before this, I’d heard myself saying: "I don’t think I really want a career. I want to find out what life means, and I want to live out that meaning!"

I didn’t know I was talking about vocation. But I’d discovered I couldn’t live without God. I didn’t know if God existed, and I was terrified of inventing him. But I had an inner need that could not be satisfied with anything else. God and Our Lady protected me, and eventually let me to MH.

Years before I came here, one of my high-school teachers (who became my godmother) told me of MH and Catherine.

Later, I re-discovered Catherine in Thomas Merton’s biography, Seven Storey Mountain. I was living in Boston, and working for the welfare department. I’d go to Catholic churches and tell the people there what the Church was all about. They were very kind to me—it was 1968, and nobody was admitting they knew much more about it.

Then the bottom fell out in my life, and I knew I needed help. I remembered MH, came for what I thought would be a week, and walked straight into the arms of God and Our Lady.

Catherine greeted me with open arms, saying: "Miriam, my mother." I looked around to see who she was talking to. Someone nudged me and said, "She’s talking to you!"

I said: "Why is she calling me that?" (At the time, my name was Mary Beth.) Catherine responded: "I call you that because you have to know that the Jews are the mother of the Christian people. Your name is not Mary Beth, it’s really Miriam." (Actually, Miriam had been my grandmother’s name before it was Americanized, and I was named after her.)

At some point, Catherine stopped calling me ‘my mother’ but continued to call me Miriam until a week before my baptism. One day she plunked herself down at the table and said, "Hello, Mary Beth."

I said, "Why are you calling me that?" She replied, "Because you’re going to be baptized, and I have to get used to your baptismal name."

It was so strange—the name Miriam had become so much mine that I asked to have it for my baptismal name.

My first encounter with Our Lady came a few weeks after I’d been at MH. I walked into the upstairs chapel for prayers. I didn’t know we were praying the rosary until someone handed me one. I knew what it was; but I had identified it as one of those obscure, old-fashioned Catholic rites of which I was very suspicious at that point.

For Jews, Catholicism is a foreign world, and we tend to have an innate suspicion of it, a ‘pulling back’.

It’s hard to describe to people who have been brought up Catholic, but it’s a very real fear. It’s like something hits you in the gut, something foreign, other.

I took the rosary and said to God: "If you are there, then help me, because I find this very hard."

We prayed the rosary in different languages. Catherine started the first decade in Russian; Rejeanne did the second one in French; Fr. Francis Martin started the third one in Hebrew.

I didn’t know Hebrew, but the sounds of it were part of my childhood. My family were not practicing Jews. We practiced a little, somewhat like Christmas-Easter Catholics. We went to the synagogue on Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashana, and celebrated Hanukkah and Passover at home, at which time my father managed to get out the blessing in Hebrew.

So the sounds of the language were part of me. But I didn’t realize how deeply a part of me they were until that evening when I heard the rosary in Hebrew. I knew, then, that Our Lady was speaking to me in my own language, the language of my heart.

This was the beginning of my relationship with Our Lady. It didn’t come through icons or the statue of Our Lady of Combermere; but she was there.

A few years after I joined MH, I made my consecration to Our Lady. I always knew Mary was there, but I can’t say she was the main focus of my life. Our Lady is very discreet. It was only a couple of years ago that she began to be more real to me, more present.

It was at a time when the whole MH community decided to renew its consecration to Our Lady. I didn’t like the idea. I was discovering a new relationship with Our Lord and didn’t want to be distracted. In my heart, I was saying, "I want to be with you, Lord." He was saying, "Go to my mother." I would insist, "No, I want to be with you!" He would reply, "Go and talk to my mother." It was very hard, almost like a rejection. But, out of obedience to the Lord, I began to pray to Our Lady.

Gradually I began to understand it—not with my head, but with my heart. I can’t say a whole lot more because this relationship is just developing.

Be it done to me according to your will (Luke 1:38). Mary believed that the promise of the Lord to her would be fulfilled. She treasured all these things in her heart. She was at the foot of the Cross, and I think this last mystery of Our Lady is the one that is most present to me just now.

Living in Russia, we are constantly at the foot of the Cross; and we can only stand there with Our Lady. We can’t do it otherwise.

I am learning in my own life the protection, tenderness and presence of Our Lady. I think, for the first time, I can say that this is where my security lies.

I’m really a beginner at this. Despite being at MH for a relatively long time, I’m only getting to know my mother.

Our Lady is very present in Russia. We couldn’t survive there without her, because the spiritual forces are too strong. Our parish in Magadan has a very deep love for her. We have a lovely little statue of Our Lady of Fatima.

Those who come to the parish are Russians (there are very few ethnic Catholics there) and many of them have not been exposed to statues. They are accustomed to icons, of which we have many in the church; but there’s only one statue—that of Our Lady of Fatima. Yet people come in and instinctively fall to their knees in front of it.

They like to gather around it, especially the children. One time, a ten-year-old girl was sitting in front of the statue during Mass. At the kiss of peace, she went over and shook Our Lady[’s hand!

We know that Mary protects us and loves us, and we are her children.

 

Let’s conclude this column with our usual prayer, saying it together:

Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we thank you and praise you for giving us Our Lady of Combermere to be our mother, guide and director.

May we entrust our wills to her so that your divine will may be accomplished in us, namely that each of us becomes another Christ and that all of us together be formed into a living icon of love reflecting the love you share with your Son and the Holy Spirit. We ask this confidently through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Regina

ARISE AND GO

by Cheryl Ann Smith

‘Why do you people have to change around so much? Why can’t you stay in Regina longer?" We’ve heard this questioning complaint often in the past year, as Sue, Paul, and Karen all left us for other places in the apostolate.

Thankfully, our aggrieved friends love us and trust God, and so they’ve opened their hearts to the newly arrived—Robin, Joanne, and Theresa.

Ultimately our answer is, "We’ve taken a promise of obedience and we must go when we’re sent forth." We believe that God has a particular plan for each of us, with his own timetable—one that often seems incomprehensible to us!

That plan isn’t just for the individual staff member, but for the whole apostolate, for our friends and benefactors, and for those we serve. God loves us all equally passionately, and the changes and moves are for Love.

Staff transfers are not made primarily for the formation of individual staff. However, this particular room of MH—Marian Centre Regina—is an excellent training ground for all who are blessed to come here. It’s a house that reflects the passion and spirit of Catherine, our foundress.

She was a lover of God who longed for more time to sink into silent prayer, yet the love of Christ impelled her to spend herself in service. We quickly discover here that if we don’t drink from the wellsprings of God’s love, we soon have little to give.

The cacophony of inner city disorder soon consumes our natural resources. Many staff sent here learn to pray from depths they’ve never plumbed before.

Human and divine love coalesce. We need both to fully live the Gospel life. This profound lesson is taught by God here at Marian Centre.

Although Catherine was raised in an aristocratic family, from her earliest years she was given eyes to see Christ in the poor. Almost all of us have to be given such vision, and it invariably comes in this inner city house.

How often we’ve been touched by a word from God coming through one of the most broken of the street people; been given a flash of joy when a smile is finally coaxed from an angry, fearful prostitute; or seen someone drop his guard while he’s in our home, because it’s safe here.

We’ve seen our own hearts being broken open in a deeper way to the women who come here this last year, as they turn more and more to Marian Centre as their home. The love of God flows through all, feeding all of us—the staff, volunteers, the inner city poor.

One of the particular gifts and joys of the MH apostolate is that we are lay men, women and priests, living a common life of love and service, in the spirit of the Little Mandate.

Marian Centre is one of the houses big enough to accommodate this three-fold dimension. At the moment, we’re two men and four women living, working, and praying together under the same roof.

As we desire to live a family life of love and forgiveness, you can imagine how much prayer and communication is required. To move through our barriers and fears, to move in trust and honesty, to learn to put God at the center of our family life, is healing beyond measure.

Why do there need to be so many staff transfers? Like Abraham, like all the people of God, we arise and go whenever God calls us. He seems to delight in sending many staff to this house, to grow and flourish, and then ‘transplants’ them elsewhere.

One thing that has consoled many of our friends and benefactors is this: they now have scores of MH staff praying for them all over the world!

England

A GARDEN IN MY HEART

by Peter Gravelle

I’d like to share with you about the making of a shrine. It was really more of a ‘journey’ than an ‘act of creation’.

It all started three years ago, while I was in bed with a high fever. An elderly priest who was visiting Robin Hood’s Bay insisted on praying over me.

While doing so, he got a word for me: "I would be fine, but Our Lady wanted something from me, and I would know what it was."

Over the next few weeks, as I got better, my mind kept going back to ‘what does Our Lady want?’

Deep down I knew what it was, but I couldn’t admit to it yet. I was certain Our Lady wanted to be made present in our garden.

The others in the house had talked about it before. "How nice it would be to have a statue of Mary somewhere in the garden!"

In the back of my mind I held onto this—looking, listening, and praying to see if anything would come up.

A year later I was on holiday in Italy, and it occurred to me to look into buying a statue for the garden. The stores were full of them, row upon row, but they were either not the right size, the proper material, or just didn’t look good. Besides, they were all more than I could afford.

I prayed some more about what to do. It became clearer that Our Lady wanted much more than a place in the garden. She wanted a place in me! It was time for me to get to know my Mother.

The next June, I returned to Combermere to make final promises. While there, I continued on this quest of Our Lady’s. I went to the MH gift shop to see if there was anything suitable there. No luck.

At this point, I had done all that I could. If Our Lady wanted a place in the garden, then she would have to provide the statue.

As my promises retreat drew to a close, I knew that I had to do something for Our Lady, and that I had to do it publicly. I decided to renew my consecration to her. I’d done it ten years earlier, but now I had so much more to give, so much more to receive.

So, on June 8th, after making promises, I re-consecrated myself to Jesus through Mary, using the De Montfort formula. I needed to do it not only in the sight of my MH family, but of my blood family as well. I needed to say: "Mary, here I am. I’m yours."

The next day, I went to my parents’ home to spend some time there before returning to England. While I was there, a cousin phoned to ask my mother if I’d like a statue of Mary. I told her to say yes!

I didn’t know what it would be, but I had to accept and leave the rest to Mary. My cousin had worked in ceramics for some years, and had a mold she wanted to try.

I don’t know why I was so surprised when I saw the statue. It was perfect! A beautifully made 16-inch statue, far better than most I had seen in my travels. I felt as proud as a father with a new baby, or perhaps a child showing off a beautiful picture of his mother.

I bundled it off to England and started to plan. The last stage took almost a year—designing and building a shrine to house and protect Our Lady. There was also the question of where to put it.

All the work had to be done on my ‘off’ time. Not that I couldn’t have been given time to do it, but Our Lady was making it clear that it was all of me that she wanted.

I thought, "What better an offering could I make than to spend myself freely and willingly?" This meant using that which was so desirous and valuable to me, my free time.

Again, I was surprised at how things worked out. First, I went to a wood-working class in nearby Scarborough, and the teacher gave me the wood that I needed—reclaimed oak.

Some slate tiles and leading were given to me for the roof. And then there was a garden to carve out of the wilds of our orchard. Here, too, plants were given.

As I carved the wood and dug the earth, something beautiful began to happen. something far more beautiful than anything I could make. A garden was being ‘dug and carved’ out of my heart. It was as though the work I poured out was being turned into a place within me, made by Our Lady.

As the shrine drew near completion, the final phase of my journey came about. I was given the opportunity to go on pilgrimage to Lourdes. Apparently, there was still something Our Lady wanted me to learn.

I don’t know if I can put it into words. There was Mary’s motherly love and concern. There was pure simple faith. There was a letting go of human respect, and an abandonment of all that interferes with our relationship.

When I returned, the final stages of setting up the shrine and the blessing of it were all that remained. And, despite some final technical problems, on June 19th—over three years since Our Lady asked a favor of me—the shrine was blessed.

Now, it blesses our garden and all who enter it.

The Journals of R - Part 3

WHAT DO YOU DO?

by R

In the 1970’s, R began to write down his first encounters with Catherine Doherty. We continue to share his journal with you, so that you may come to know her better.

 

[R writes] … I got to know some nuns in college. While they were truly kind and generous people, their language was stilted and they seemed to omit certain words, like I, me, mine, etc. They seemed to try and diminish any individuality. What a shame!

They were very disciplined. They moved with a special grace. They had a strange frugality—no unnecessary movements or words—and had the practice of looking down, never appearing inquisitive.

I learned from my professors that all the religious orders were changing—‘loosening up’ they said—so the nuns were experimenting in getting a new ‘lifestyle’. Everything seemed in transition during my university years, and this transition was most radical in university circles.

People would invent words and then try to find a meaning for them. Words are becoming empty of reality, and take on a phantom meaning. We use vocabulary without really understanding what we are saying. And universities are the worst for doing this! We pollute our speech with useless words that sound important, and mean nothing. So we feel important, and pretend to be intelligent!

I asked a professor about religious orders. He explained it to me. (Thank God, he’s a historian!) He said that, at the beginning of Christianity, some religious men escaped into the desert to isolate themselves from the influences of pagan society, and devote their lives completely to prayer and seeking out God. Others joined them and, slowly, a type of religious devotion and literature developed.

Later on, the idea was expanded, when there was a need to preserve not just religious learning and literature but all the arts of civilization. Barbaric invasions were destroying Roman order and culture. Learning was in retreat; but it was saved by the monasteries.

Monasticism was the center for the spread of Christianity and for all forms of learning; and this movement brought Europe out of the Dark Ages. Then monasticism began to reach out from the safety of its high walls to work among ordinary people. St. Francis of Assisi was the most notable, and was one of the first to see this challenge.

According to my professor, religious orders are formed by a charismatic leader who sees a specific mission or has a special revelation. Others are drawn into this endeavor, rules are established, and an ‘order’ is formed. Often, the rule and traditions becomes so structured that the original vision is lost—as well as a loss of zeal. The original mission is maintained, but the charismatic vision becomes a ‘procedure’!

The problem nowadays is that there is need for a new vision that will attract others into renewing the Church. We are entering an era when the old traditions and methods are no longer effective.

The Church needs a new direction if it is to survive. But it must not sacrifice the eternal truths for the changes in direction. This is the crisis that the Church faces. Perhaps this is the role of Madonna House: a new direction, a specific role and teaching. I must find out what they do, exactly and specifically. They I can return to the professor and tell him what can be seen in MH.

 

The Role of MH

[Catherine says] … What do we do? (Catherine repeated my question in a loud, shocked voice.) Wrong question! What you should ask is who we are, not what we do. When we met, you didn’t want to know what I did. No, you wanted to know who I was, what I was like.

We don’t meet occupations and professions. We meet people with unique personalities; with likes, strengths, all those things that make them distinctive and human. We are not occupations, although ‘out there’ (and here she pointed dramatically out the window) they try to reduce us to what we do—how important we are, how much power we have, how socially prominent we are.

If we are uneducated; if we hold ordinary jobs; if we are unemployed, old, without power or influence, then we are ‘nothing’. Things give value to people in the world of business, politics, and society.

In this way, they can deny justice to those considered ‘unworthy’; they have an excuse for their greed, hate, and contempt. Is contempt a horrible thing? Absolutely! You see, contempt is the door to all the crimes imaginable. A thief has contempt for those he robs; thus, he can steal with a ‘clear’ conscience. A ruthless boss has contempt for his employees; so he can do whatever he want without restraint. After all, they are ‘nothing’!

Think about the propaganda during wartime. Each side depicts their enemy, first of all, with contempt; and then it is just a short step to hate; and from hate comes the ability to kill. Then killing is viewed as a duty, a ‘sacred’ duty!

You see, small things are the seeds of great actions. Concentrate on what a person does, and you separate everyone into categories. But a category is not a person. We rank people: some are better than others, worth more. Next, we develop contempt for those ‘below’ us, and envy for those ‘above’ us.

This division can be exploited to cause hatred and violence. The communists exploited the envy of the working class to destroy the middle and upper classes. The abusive contempt of the industrialist and ruling classes in old Russia created the envy and hate that destroyed them.

At MH, we are different. We are creating a union of love and understanding to transform a world of division and anger. Big job? Not really; for we begin with ourselves, and let God create within us the person he desires.

So ask us who we are! We are a people in love with God, who offer our lives to God, and who learn of God, by God. We give up the world with its categories and separations, and take on the promise of Christ.

How do we do this? Very easily; yet it is a struggle. First of all, we seek—within ourselves—to discover our true identity, the one that is created by God. We forget our ambitions, desires, possession; for these things are a heavy burden that drag us down. We don’t own anything, so that we can be free to accept all the wondrous gifts God is trying to give us.

We don’t climb the economic ladder, the social ladder. No, we ascend the ladder of God’s revelation. Like Jacob, we capture a vision of the ladder that leads to heaven (Genesis 28:12).

Is it hard to climb? Sure, but so what? To climb up the economic ladder, the social ladder, the political ladder is just as hard—even harder. Those ways demand dedication, time, effort, struggle. But what do you have when you reach the top? A moment of glory that soon fades. And the cost is so great! What do we in MH have? Eternal life with Christ. What do we receive? Our true personhood—unique and wonderful.

My Dear Family

THE KISSES OF HIS MOUTH

by Catherine Doherty

In this Year of the Father, the Pope calls us to a "renewed appreciation and more intense celebration of the Sacrament of Penance" (Tertio Millenio Adveniente).

To help achieve this, we print here some of Catherine’s reflections on the sacrament.

 

Today I want to talk about confession. I hope many of you are going regularly. It is one of the most important sacraments of the Catholic Church.

Lately, people don’t go as much as they used to, but confession is such a wonderful thing that everybody should be rushing there.

I just love it! Absolution falls on our ears like oil on our wounds. The forgiveness of God envelops us like a mantle.

The confessional is the altar of mercy. At any hour, our souls can be washed clean and whiter than snow in the Sacrament of Penance. We become little children again, newly baptized.

Think of it, dearly beloved! Think of what this most holy sacrament means. Spendthrift of love, Our Lord gives it to us to bathe our souls and make them alive again, resurrecting them from sin in a mercy that knows no end. How utterly loving God is!

If any of you are away from the sacraments, this is the moment to reconsider. The Father is waiting for you. Why not run to him and say, "I’m sorry"?

This beautiful sacrament was instituted by Jesus Christ. He said so clearly to the apostles: I give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven. Whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven, and Receive the Holy Spirit, for those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; those whose sins you retain, they are retained (Mt 16:19; Jn 20:22-23).

It is a terrible, awesome power that those men have, the successors of the apostles. One of our children, a very ordinary man with humble hands of clay, has a power beyond our understanding, the power to loosen and bind!

The mystery of the priesthood is immense. It isn’t the priest who is absolving in confession, it is Christ!

Why don’t we go to confession? What’s the matter with us? It’s a marvelous sacrament.

Catholic priests, to their tremendous honor and heroism, have never broken the seal of the confessional. They’ve been tortured, they’ve had terrible things done to them, but they haven’t opened their mouths. As a result, there is this man to whom I can go and tell anything and everything, knowing that he is not going to break my confidence. I can really tell him what is in my heart and the guilt that eats me or whatever. It’s rather consoling, isn’t it?

Here is a great miracle in God, a great gift of God: lost innocence can be restored!

Have we told others about this gift? Have we spoken to our friends, to our enemies, to ourselves about it—we who are supposedly bringing the Good News to the world? Confession is the way to restore innocence.

Once we repent and meet Christ in this sacrament, he touches us in our inmost being and we become as innocent as newborn babies.

Christ’s mercy was too immense to allow innocence to be destroyed without showing a way to restore it. So he gave us the sacraments of Penance and of the Eucharist, which restore people to pristine innocence.

Let us be watchful that we are not guilty of tearing off this innocence from anybody. It’s a mantle that you can tear off. And if it happens that we do, let us weave a mantle out of our compunction, our sorrow, our repentance, and put it on that person by leading them to the one place where innocence can be restored: the lips of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Russians consider confession the kiss of Christ. It is Christ’s kiss of peace, of forgiveness. When I was a young girl, my mother said, "Catherine, it’s time for you to go to confession and be kissed by Christ."

Isn’t that a nice introduction for a child? So I would go to church, kneel before a priest, and tell him my thoughts.

In my imagination, it was more than that. My mother very gently and simply explained it. I had committed a fault and knew God wouldn’t like it, so I sort of ran towards him and, sitting on his lap and putting my arms around his neck, I would kiss him—like I did my father—and tell him how sorry I was for having done something he didn’t like.

In my imagination, Christ hugged me and said something like: "That’s all right, little girl. I know it’s not easy to always do the right thing." Then he’d kiss me and bless me, and say, "Now go and play."

I realized that when we grow up, we receive another kiss. We sin, and say, "I’m sorry." Slowly a strange face that nobody knows (and yet everybody knows) bends down and touches ours, and we experience the words of the Song of Solomon, Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth (Song 1:2).

Well, this is what confession is. In a sense, his lips touch ours, and fire and flame enter our hearts and cleanse them.

Yes, confession is Christ’s kiss of peace, of forgiveness. It’s a simple thing, not complicated. Perhaps the way my mother taught me stayed with me. I was never afraid of it. Always, before my eyes, were the love and forgiveness of God and his immense mercy.

Many people have rejected confession; they are not interested. They don’t go there very much. What they miss! They miss being kissed by God.

I always feel a little sad when people don’t go to confession, because they miss so much. Above all, they miss a kiss from Christ.

Why is confession so important? If we go to confession often, we sin less. It helps us overcome any difficulties we may have.

Just talking about it makes you think. A tremendous grace is conferred upon a person who confesses often. Strength comes to that person to avoid sin.

We are sinners before God, but when we confess our sins, we are washed clean. It is very important to have a clean soul. We can work better. We can do good to other people better when our souls are clean, when our minds are not on ourselves.

If we let confession go for two months or so, our souls are in shambles. Everything is topsy-turvy, like pieces of furniture piled on top of one another.

It is so very important for us to kneel down and say to the Lord, "I am sorry. I am really sorry." To say that in front of another person who is a priest is absolutely necessary.

If you’ve forgotten confession (as so many have), remember it again. Go often and you will feel so much better. Your soul will be free of any encumbrances. It makes no difference if it’s a small sin or a big sin. Big sins certainly upset you, but the little sins pile up; and you end up with a combination of little sins on top of one another.

At the end you sort of say, "What’s the use?" Before you know it, you aren’t going to church, or to communion. As a key to all the other sacraments, confession is of vital importance.

So you should spend some time finding out what confession is all about. There are lots of books that deal with confession. Get one and see how important it is. It is a key to your whole life.

(Adapted from The Kiss of Christ, pages 5-10, available from MH Publications.)

The Pope’s Corner

THE SIGN OF THE FATHER

by Pope John Paul II

In this Year of the Father, we continue to reflect on God’s love with this excerpt from the 1980 encyclical Dives in Misericordia (Rich in Mercy).

 

Before his own townspeople in Nazareth, Christ refers to the words of the prophet Isaiah: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord (Lk 4:18-19).

These phrases are his first messianic declaration. They are followed by the actions and words known through the Gospel. By these actions and words Christ makes the Father present among men. It is significant that the people in question are especially the poor, those without means of subsistence, those deprived of their freedom, the blind who cannot see the beauty of creation, those living with broken hearts, of suffering from social injustice, and finally sinners.

It is especially for these last that the Messiah becomes a particularly clear sign of God who is love, a sign of the Father. In this visible sign the people of our own time, just like the people then, can see the Father.

It is significant that, when messengers from John the Baptist came to Jesus to ask him: "Are you he who is come, or shall we look for another?", he answered by referring to the same testimony with which he had begun his teaching at Nazareth: "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have Good News preached to them, and happy is he does not lose faith in me" (Lk 7: 19-23).

Especially through his life and his actions, Jesus revealed that love is present in the world in which we live—an effective love, a love that addresses itself to us and embraces everything that makes up our humanity. This love makes itself particularly noticed in contact with suffering, injustice and poverty—in contact with the whole historical ‘human condition’, which in various ways manifests our limitation and frailty, both physical and moral. It is precisely the mode and sphere in which love manifests itself that in biblical language is called ‘mercy’.

Christ, then, reveals God who is Father, who is love. Christ reveals God as ‘rich in mercy’. This truth is not just the subject of a teaching; it is a reality made present to us by Christ. Making the Father present as love and mercy is, in Christ’s own consciousness, the fundamental touchstone of his mission as the Messiah; this is confirmed by the words that he uttered first in the synagogue at Nazareth and later in the presence of John the Baptist’s messengers.

On the basis of this way of manifesting the presence of God who is Father, love, and mercy, Jesus makes mercy one of the principal themes of his preaching. As is his custom, he first teaches in parables, since these express better the very essence of things. It is sufficient to recall the parable of the Prodigal Son, or the Good Samaritan, but also—by contrast—the parable of the merciless servant.

There are many passages in the teaching of Christ that manifest love and mercy under some ever-fresh aspect. We need only consider the Good Shepherd who goes in search of the lost sheep, or the woman who sweeps the house in search of the lost coin.

The Gospel writer who particularly treats of these themes in Christ’s teaching is Luke, whose Gospel has earned the title of ‘the Gospel of mercy.’

When one speaks of preaching, one encounters a problem of major importance with reference to the meaning of terms and the content of concepts, especially the concept of mercy. A grasp of the content of this concept is the key to understanding the very reality of mercy.

Before devoting ourselves to establishing the meaning of words, and the content proper to the concept ‘mercy’, we must note that Christ, in revealing the love and mercy of God, at the same time demanded from people that they also should be guided in their lives by love and mercy.

This requirement forms part of the very essence of the messianic message, and constitutes the heart of the Gospel ethos. The Teacher expresses this both through the medium of the commandment which he describes as ‘the greatest’ (Mt 22:38), and also in the form of a blessing, when he proclaims, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy (Mt 5:7).

In this way, the messianic message about mercy preserves a particular divine-human dimension. Christ—the very fulfillment of messianic prophecy—by becoming the incarnation of the love that is manifested with particular force with regard to the suffering, the unfortunate and sinners, makes present and thus more fully reveals the Father, who is God rich in mercy.

The Father’s Plan - Part 1

THE SOURCE OF LIFE

by Fr. Thomas Rowland

According to the schedule requested by Pope John Paul, to prepare for celebrating the beginning of the Third Millennium 1999 is to be observed as the Year of the Father.

As part of this celebration, I hope to present in Restoration a series of articles on the Father’s plan for our salvation. I’ll begin by exploring why the name Father is used for God.

From earliest times, many civilizations have described the relationship between their gods and themselves in sexual terms. For them, God—being the source of life—was seen as impregnating the fertile womb of the earth with the seeds of life, thus giving life to all that lives.

God—the male element—is the one who ‘fathers’ all life as we know it. The earth—the female element—is the means by which this life is nurtured and brought to fruition.

The concepts of Father God and Mother Earth are found among many peoples. As I hope to show in future articles, this is also revealed to us in our Judeo-Christian heritage.

For some people, the term ‘father’ may create a bit of a problem. Perhaps they’ve had no experience of a father, except that given by a grandfather or some other surrogate.

For others, such as victims of child abuse, the word ‘father’ has a negative connotation and cannot be reconciled with their sense of a good God.

For a few readers, the use of a masculine term for the source of all life and goodness indicates a male chauvinistic attitude.

Without going into a long discussion about this, let me just say that the God about whom I am writing is someone altogether special, totally unique, completely different from any other that we may experience.

As St. Anselm says in his Proslogion, trying to see the beauty and goodness and glory of God is like trying to gaze at the sun with the naked eye. The light of the sun lets us see the beauty around us (and the ugliness as well), but we cannot see the sun itself.

Perhaps a child without a human father has an advantage over the rest of us in recognizing the goodness of God the Father. We others—even if gifted with wonderful fathers—are aware of parental shortcomings and tend to attribute these defects to Father God as well.

Certainly those who have experienced abuse need to rise above such horrible ordeals, and realize that these are signs of what God the Father is not!

Yes, God is the source of all existence. He is omnipresent, and all-knowing, and all-powerful. He has made and shaped the earth, far beyond the limits of which we are aware. He has created the sub-microscopic world about which we are just beginning to learn.

God also possesses, in a mysterious fashion, all the wonderful attributes that we consider to be masculine and feminine. These attributes are, in their human manifestation, made by God and given to us.

Giving life to all things is only a part of God’s activity. God the Father is a tender, loving Person—who wants to share with us his glory. This revelation of God’s love is the whole point of our year of preparation.

The very idea of such a Person—who he is, what he is, how he is, where he is, even when he is (for there is no past, present or future in him)—is so far beyond us that we will never be able to understand it, even if we spend all eternity in contemplating him.

As we look at the history of our relationship with God, we must be careful always to remember that this Person is wholly beyond us. We must not ascribe to God human responses, human reasons, or human emotions; not even the most beautiful of human virtues!

God is so far beyond our experience that, as St. Anselm said, we cannot begin to see him, much less describe him.

This is the God whom we call Father! He is not some great man whom we recognize as our leader. He is infinite, eternal, perfect Being.

In addition, it is well to remember that God is totally self-sufficient. He has no need of anything nor anyone, outside of himself. (We could spend years thinking about how great God is, trying to get a glimmer of what ‘self-sufficient eternal infinity’ means.)

God does not need us. Not in the least. Yet—because he is so good, so loving, so tender—he wanted to share himself with the human race. … And so, he created Adam and Eve!

to be continued

View From Thorpe Lane

HERE A RUIN, THERE A RUIN

by Fr. David May

When you walk to the end of our driveway, you can turn to right or to left on Thorpe Lane. (Of course, you could also cross the road and drop in on the Watsons. Harold and June have been dropped in upon by visitors from MH for nearly 15 years, and are quite used to it!)

If you turn left on Thorpe Lane, you first pass St. Stephen’s Anglican church, then the old railway station (now a residence), the Surgery (doctors’ offices), and the bowling green.

If you keep on, you soon leave Robin Hood’s Bay proper and find yourself on the Cleveland Way. This hiking trail follows the Yorkshire coast for miles before veering inland towards Rievaulx Abbey, the old stomping grounds of a famous saint of our area, St. Aelred.

The first major stopping point after our village is the old port town of Whitby, six miles up the coast. Today it’s a bustling little place, especially in the tourist season.

If you’re a little weak from the exertion of the hike, you can find fish and chips available, to keep body and soul together. They taste better here than anywhere else in England—according to local surveys!

As you walk toward Whitby, you’ll see ahead of you (for quite a distance) a most striking landmark: Whitby Abbey, originally founded in the 7th century by one of our most famous local saints, St. Hilda.

The ruins date back to medieval times, and English Heritage does a pretty good job of maintaining them.

This was the site (in A.D. 664) of the famous Synod of Whitby, when the English Church settled on a single date to celebrate Easter. Until then, practices were at variance between Celtic customs coming from Irish missionaries in the north, and Roman customs in the south.

Why this was such an important meeting at that time, you can find out for yourself by reading The Ecclesiastical History of the English People by St. Bede the Venerable. He loves to go on and on about the subject of Easter!

The fact is, this decision firmly linked England to the European continent—and to Rome in particular—for nearly a thousand years, until the Reformation.

This is not exactly what I intended to write about, however. I was telling you about sighting Whitby Abbey while out hiking the Cleveland Way. If you had a couple of pounds to spare, you could go into the Abbey grounds when you get there and walk among the ruins of the splendid medieval church. You could also touch the stones.

I’m quite big on touching stones when I visit monastic ruins. I also like to sit on them and lean against them.

By so doing, one gets the ‘feel’ of the commitment to the Faith they represent. True, one feels a bit sad that monastic life came to such an abrupt and tragic end under the government of Henry VIII. Yet there’s a communion that transcends such twists and turns of history.

If you go to Whitby Abbey and touch the stones there, you can feel this commitment to the Faith, and draw strength from it. As these medieval stones rise up from the ashes of a church largely in ruins (due to the Viking invasions of the 8th and 9th centuries), so today God can lead us to build up his Church again out of the contemporary state of disrepair we find in many places.

Here in England, it seems unlikely that such abbeys will flourish in great numbers again any time soon (though there are some, thanks be to God!).

What the Lord is asking us (at least, here in MH Robin Hood’s Bay) is to concentrate, one by one, on ‘living stones’ that we encounter.

The structures of the past are but signs of a living faith that had the power to inspire people to deeds of unexpected greatness. The same applies today—but we have to be willing to start small, to be hidden, to be seeds planted in the earth to bear fruit in ‘due season’.

Four such ‘living stones’ showed up here one Saturday afternoon for a scripture class. We meet weekly to study the Gospels.

The average age of the group (minus myself) is 12½. If you include me, it’s 19½. (We are a young group.) Our topic that day was Matthew, chapter 13, the parables of Jesus about the kingdom of heaven.

We always begin in the chapel, praying a decade of the rosary, each one lighting a candle in front of Our Lady. She is the one who understands most profoundly the Word of God, her Son Jesus Christ, so it seems wise to entrust the whole business to her.

That done, we took psalm books upstairs and read together the great psalm about the Messiah and his kingdom: Psalm 72 (71). It is a powerful assurance of the power of God at work on our behalf:

God, give your justice to the king, your own righteousness to the royal son, so that he may rule your people rightly and your poor with justice. …

Uprightly he will defend the poorest, he will save the children of those in need, and crush their oppressors.

Like sun and moon he will endure, age after age, welcome as showers to thirsty soil.

After reading the first three verses of Matthew 13, we had to pause to look at the meaning of the term ‘parable’.

Our working definition: an ordinary story from daily life, but containing a mystery, a secret. Then we read on: ‘Imagine a sower going out to sow …’ First question: why is this an ordinary story? We talked about agricultural practices in first century Palestine.

Second question: what is the mystery or secret this story contains? Silence.

Mystery? Secret? You mean that there’s actually something exciting, astonishing, and even of contemporary interest buried in this little tale? What could it be?

We found a first clue. Harvest figures for the seeds bearing much fruit (30, 60, 100-fold) are greatly exaggerated—even in this day of expensive fertilizers and genetically modified seeds. In the time of Christ, such figures must have sounded very strange indeed.

What kind of seeds are these, anyway? What kind of energy and non-earthly power do they contain?

Suddenly, one of the group, remembering what we’d just read in the psalm, saw the light. The mystery is: what does planting seeds—even extraordinarily fruitful ones— have to do with the kingdom of heaven and the mighty Messiah? There doesn’t seem to be much connection at all between the two concepts.

Precisely the point! The kingdom comes mysteriously, in a hidden way. We receive it first of all into our hearts as the seed of God’s word.

How plain this often seems! How prosaic and unexciting. Yet what power there is in it to change the course of one’s whole life, especially if we treasure it, try to live it, and above all, ask the Lord’s help when we don’t understand it.

Another day we will perhaps discuss about becoming seeds ourselves, dying as Jesus did, so that life might be multiplied for others. For that is the only way the great temple of the living God can be constructed in this world.

In the meantime, it was time for chocolate ‘bickies’ (cookies) and fruit juice.

I wonder what those children will see the next time they pass Whitby Abbey? An old familiar landmark, hardly to be noticed? A sign of a church in ruins and heroic efforts finally defeated?

Or the promise of a seed that can burst forth in the most unexpected and wonderful ways—because that seed is Jesus himself, and he lives in each of us.

Behold, he says, I make all things new (Rev 21:5).

Winslow

GOING INTO GOD

by Patricia Probst

Our Atrium, named in honor of Blessed Juan Diego, is abloom with 50 little children, ages four to six.

Margarita and I assist Janet and Mariann with their classes in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, and all of us delight in recalling and sharing what the children have to say.

One time, Janet showed a picture of the Good Shepherd going to save a lost sheep who was clinging precariously to the edge of a cliff. She asked: "How do you think the lost sheep felt?" One child said, "He doesn’t like to hike."

Another time, a child stunned us by blurting out: "I know God’s name!. It’s Howard." Howard? "Our Father who art in heaven, Howard be thy name."

Perhaps one of us hadn’t enunciated ‘hallowed’ clearly enough, when teaching the Lord’s Prayer.

The children don’t intend to be funny. They are serious about their work in the Atrium, and these answers are sincere. We respect them, and have a good laugh after class.

More typical responses are the following:

"What do we know about the Good Shepherd?" … Josh: "He had the last dinner with his friends." … Gabriel: "He is the light in our hearts."

"What is the difference between a shepherd and the Good Shepherd?" … The children, with one voice: "God!"

At the prayer table, following a presentation of the Last Supper: … "Thank you, Jesus, for dying for us." …. "Thank you for rising from the dead."

Janet showed how the priest prepares the chalice for Mass, saying that he pours into the cup filled with wine just one little drop of water. This represents us! Then she asked: "What could this mean?"

"We go into God," a child answered.

We go into God. This was a moment of epiphany for me. Out of the mouths of little ones, clearly enunciated, come the essentials of our faith.

Thank you, God, that I am in Winslow with these little children. Please teach me to be like them. As five-year-old Aaron said, "God, you are the most beautifullest!"