My Dear Family

IN TIMES OF NATIONAL CRISIS

by Catherine Doherty

On September 11th, shortly after the horrendous terrorist attack in the United States, we at MH read together the following letter which Catherine wrote to the MH staff on April 4, 1963 some months after the Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962.

It appeared in Restoration in March 1991, but in view of our current situation, we think it bears repeating.

———-

When the Cuba Missile Crisis occurred, I shared some thoughts about what our behavior and attitudes should be in the face of such emergencies.

There is no denying that, after the speech of the president, the world was breathless, awaiting the answer of Russia to the challenge.

It was a suspended moment when the world, especially Americans, had to face the possibility of a nuclear war with Cuba’s missiles descending in a fiery death upon Washington, New York, and other cities. It was a breathless, fearsome, and tragic moment.

But we must be prepared for these moments. To us they mean all that they mean to any other human being. It will be normal for us to have an ordinary fear. This is a legitimate, not an illusory fear.

However, we Christians belong to him who is perfect love. Perfect love casts out all fears and makes human fears of destruction and death bearable with his graces. So for us, the first step in such emergencies is to come together in prayer—prayer for peace, prayer that the dark clouds pass, prayer for people to keep their sanity and remember that God is with us.

After the collective prayer at Mass we should be praying individually all day for the same thing, beseeching and calling upon the mercy of God and his intervention in these affairs.

Those of us who are far removed from the scene of the conflict must then go about our business, which is the business of God, as we normally do in days of peace. The greatest contribution we can make is to go about the duty of the moment and offer it up for the same intentions as our prayers. At no time can we, the apostles of the Lord, show panic in the face of destruction and death, for many will rely upon us.

We should not have any fear of death since we have faith. Nevertheless, we must take every precaution to prolong our lives, and of course, the lives of others. We prolong our lives, not for ourselves alone, but so that we may serve others should an emergency arise. At all times our thoughts must be of peace and love, and for others, not ourselves.

We must also be prepared for those emergencies. It would be well to update our First Aid courses, for example, so that we might be of better assistance to our neighbor.

Let us also be men and women of peace, bringing God’s peace into the troubled and frightened hearts of others. During the Cuban Crisis a friend of ours was called by a panic-stricken friend. She asked her if she was going to stop a certain project because of the crisis. “Surely,” the woman said, “with nuclear war hanging over our heads, you are not going to continue!”

Our friend very calmly said, “Of course we will!” and began to talk peacefully and quietly to the panic-stricken woman and to calm her. So thus she was able to stop panic and fear in the heart of the mother of a family. We must do likewise. Let us truly remember that these are moments when we should bring peace to those who are so emotionally fearful that they can’t think straight.

Let us never spread rumors about the crisis. Let us be truthful, but let us never exaggerate. Let us never pass on unconfirmed reports, but discuss only official information. Let our voices always be calm and quiet, our steps unhurried, the horarium of the day, whenever possible, unchanged. Let our houses be refuges of peace and calm.

Let us stand ready to be of any assistance to our governments in the way of directing, helping with the organization of feeding or First Aid stations, and whatever else we are capable of doing to help. Whatever we do in public or in private, let us be efficient, peaceful, and quiet. Let us be, at these critical times, men and women of constant prayer. Let us be ready to serve God and our neighbor without counting the cost.

If possible during these emergencies, let us keep in touch with each other. If it is not possible, let us commend each other to God in complete peace, faith, confidence, and hope because of his love for us and our love for him, who is Lord of life and death.

From Dearly Beloved, Vol. 1, pp. 307-308, available from MH Publications.

 

 

Combermere Diary

TRAGEDY AND SUNSHINE

by Paulette Curran

In Combermere, September 11th was a beautiful day in early fall—crisp but mild and gloriously sunny. I was in my usual spot in front of my computer in the RESTORATION office at St. Mary’s; and Mike Huffman who, with his computer work, shares the office, was on the Internet.

Suddenly he turned to me and said, “Paulette, this is very important.” He waited until he had my full attention and then said, “The World Trade Center in New York has been attacked, the borders are closed, the planes are grounded, and the United States has declared a state of emergency.”

I was in a state of shock. The first thing that penetrated it was the bright sunshine out the window—the sunshine dancing through the trees and suffusing everything. And the first thought I remember was: “How can the sun keep shining like that?”

This is this image that comes to mind as I begin to write this article about our ordinary life: incomprehensible tragedy and sunshine. These days, this ordinary outer life and the life of the Spirit always working within us both individually and communally, have become interwoven and penetrated with the tragic events which have occurred and which continue to unfold in the world. Who can take it all in? Who can adequately respond to it? What can anyone say really?

Here in Combermere, as in most places, September 11th began normally enough. At the end of breakfast Fr. Peter Ng Lai Huat who was visiting us from Malaysia, gave a little good-bye speech: “I learned some new words—poustinia and sobornost—and now I am going to my poustinia in the marketplace knowing that I am united with you.” He said this, we later learned, at the exact moment that the first plane hit the first tower in New York City. (No, he wasn’t able to fly out of Toronto that day as planned.)

Many of us, like myself, were at work at scattered locations throughout MH when word of the attack quickly spread from work department to work department and from person to person. People working at the main house were gathered together to be told, and then they watched the television coverage for a little while.

Then whatever each of us was feeling, the duty of the moment, as usual, was an anchor, and we just continued doing what we had been doing in quiet and prayer.

The television in the basement of the main house, a TV which is usually covered by a cloth and used for the occasional video, was on all day, and people stopped to watch as they passed by or just before meals. But except for those having a day off, no one spent much of the day in front of it.

At lunch the kitchen served a treat—the chocolate cake leftover from the reception of the new applicants. (Mary Ellen, the head cook, said that sugar is good for shock.) At our usual after-dinner spiritual reading, we heard Catherine Doherty’s letter written to the staff after the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, a letter giving guidelines on how to respond to a national crisis. (That letter is on page one of this paper.)

And all day, our ordinary life continued. A couple of guests left and two, including one from Korea, arrived.

At our evening Mass, the celebrant, Fr. Tom Zoeller, spoke about the mercy of God. Then later on many of us gathered around the television and watched the continual news coverage and President Bush’s address to the people of the United States.

On Wednesday a spirit of silence seemed to settle over the house.

The days following continued to be an interweaving of the simple events of our lives and the earth-shattering ones in the “outside world.” Catherine had always told us to that focussing on the duty of the moment no matter what is going on will anchor and save us, and this we did. But I don’t think the events of the world were ever far from our thoughts and prayers for too long.

The newspapers in our “front room”, for example, continued to be read more than usual, and so often at meals, conversations began on other topics and then part-way through the meal, turned to the world events.

On Thursday evening, two days after the attack, the women staff gathered in the chapel for an hour of prayer that had been scheduled for the intention of the upcoming election of a director general of women. At the beginning of the hour, Jean Fox, the current director, said that at this time we needed to pray first of all for the victims of the attacks and their families and also to share with one another the burdens we were carrying as a result of those attacks. So the hour became one of intercessory prayer for these intentions and of sharing what was in our hearts.

Friday was declared an international day of mourning and prayer. I wondered if those who declared that day knew that it was the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross. Probably not, but with God there are no coincidences.

Here at Madonna House, it was also the day of our monthly RESTORATION bee, the morning when we gather together to put the labels on your papers in preparation for mailing them. This time, circulation manager Bill Ryan, who is responsible for this work bee, invited us all to offer our work in union with all the prayers throughout the world for the victims of the disaster and for peace.

Just before spiritual reading we observed the worldwide period of silence, and after lunch we heard a powerful reading for the feast from the Byzantine Missal, a reading which reminded us that it is through the cross that our salvation and victory have been won.

Then yesterday evening (I am writing this on September 22nd) we had a staff meeting in which we were able to share about these events. Fr. Pelton set the tone in the beginning when he said, “This is not a time of opinions, but a time of prayer. It is important for us to share what is in our hearts.” And that is what we did.

And this past while was, of course, a time of other events, too. The first of these was on September 8th, the day we formally accepted the new applicants, that is, those who are beginning their formation in preparation for joining our community. This year, there are four: Tom Kluger, Stephen Tosterud, Sandra Novecosky, and Sung Hee (Maria) Park. Maria is from Korea.

As always for this occasion, Jean Fox carried around the dining room the traditional cake with a cross on top. “If you embrace the cross depicted on the cake with total trust and childlike confidence,” she told the new applicants, “you will experience the sweetness, goodness, and life symbolized by the cake.”

And as always individual staff have been doing various things: Denis Lemieux and Kieran Kilcommons have left for the seminary; four staff went on Mary Davis’ annual 8-day canoe trip; Deirdre Burch attended a phytotherapy (herbal and plant medicine) conference; Donna Surprenant and Pat Probst took an art course in Italy; and 96-year-old Kathleen O’Herin, accompanied by Kathleen Janet Thompson, took a little vacation at our house in Edmonton.

Donna Surprenant also had a month-long exhibit of her paintings of the Madawaska River, an exhibit entitled “Views of A River.”

Then, after grieving for those who died in the attacks, we had a funeral of our own. Edie Scott, one of our members, after a long illness, died peacefully. Each of our MH funerals is both similar and different from the others, each one reflecting the uniqueness of the person who dies. This one, since Edie was half Cree Indian, included a few native Canadian customs. (There will be more about her in our next issue.)

And so, despite what is happening, our lives, like yours, go on.

We don’t know what will have happened in th

Though I cannot begin to put words around these unprecedented world events, let me share with you two thoughts that are helping to sustain me:

1) No matter what is happening all we can do is “the duty of the moment,” the moment-by-moment call from God that, most of the time, is in front of our eyes.

2) Though we are powerless in the face of all of these events, God is not. And no matter what is happening, he has promised to be with us. Though he did not promise that we would not suffer, both in our individual lives (unless we deliberately turn away from him) and in the world, the ultimate victory is his.

If we really believe this, though we may feel afraid, we can know that the reality is that ultimately there is nothing to fear.

So, it was very fitting, after all, that the sun, the symbol of God, continued to shine so gloriously on September 11, 2001.

 

 

A NORTHERN SPRING?

by Fr. Bob Pelton

The following is our current “begging letter” (our semi-annual letter which asks you our benefactors for the money we depend on for our work). Many of you have received it already, but we include it here because it was written on September 11th. And since it was, it ended up being a reflection on the terrible events of that day.

———-

I began to write this yesterday evening, September 10, after some days of pondering and praying, since our begging letter has to be ready early this week in order to get it to you at the beginning of October. I had planned to write a reflection on the way Madonna House has begun this year, in a clear way, to experience the new springtime of faith and evangelization Pope John Paul II has been speaking of for so many years.

Then this morning I was awakened to the news of the horrific terrorist attacks that were taking place in the United States, especially in New York and Washington.

Our first thoughts, of course, like yours and those of decent people whatever their faith or nation, went to the thousands of victims and their families. May Our Merciful Lord bring the dead into His presence, heal the wounded, console the bereaved, and bring peace and protection to the terrified.

May he show mercy to the perpetrators of these evil acts by bringing them swiftly to justice and to true repentance. May he show mercy to all of us by showing us how to respond according to the truth of the Gospel to the hatred that causes such horror all over the world.

A few years ago our begging letter quoted extensively from one that our foundress, Catherine Doherty, wrote in 1962, entitled Why We Beg. Let me quote it in the context of this bitter day: “I beg, we beg, because we are in love with a Divine Pauperthe one who was rich but became poor for our sake, that by his poverty we might become rich (2 Cor 8:9)who begged us to be beggars for love of him. How can we not beg when we see the Divine Pauper on a crucifix?”

Today the whole world can see the “Divine Pauper” on the crucifix. Most, probably even many Christians, may not fully realize what they see, but whenever innocent life is despised, degraded, wounded, killed, there is Christ Our Lord, who has identified himself with us unto death, even death by cruel violence.

Some 70 years ago Catherine told the Lord that, because in His perfect love he chose to identify himself with her in the extremity of her pain, she would choose to be one with him in his.

Not just as he suffered on Calvary but as he mysteriously but really shares it with all the sick, the homeless, the broken-hearted, the victims of war, and yes, of terrorismall the poor. Madonna House was born from those mutual choices, Christ’s and Catherine’s, and today, by God’s mercy, we continue here in Combermere and in our humble missions throughout the world to take up the cross of the poor, to be one with them and with him. We stand with them in the certain hope of his resurrectionGod’s own springtime.

This resurrection springtime of God will come fully only at the end of time, but it comes just as truly at each baptism, at every moment of repentance, wherever the Church in eras of great danger and need urgently prays for a “new Pentecost in our time.”

Scores of millions of Catholics and our Christian brethren prayed faithfully for this unimaginable grace from 1960-1965; and for many years we seemed to have wandered into a cruel, confusing winter in spite of many moments of spring-like light and warmth. Even now we are far from seeing, as we prayed then, “a fuller knowledge of the Church’s teaching and salutary progress in Christian morality”!

But now, with Pope John Paul II, I believe this resurrection springtime has begun I’ve seen it!not because of our work but as a pure grace of God’s heart and Our Lady’s intercession in response to the faith of his little ones.

Mind you, this is no “southern spring” with flowers everywhere and mild rains. This is a northern spring with sudden thaws and freezes, with bitter winds, even with blizzards as harsh as today’s catastrophe. Yet for all that, the first flowers are poking through the snow, and clear light, which daily grows a little brighter, is shining through still bare trees.

“Well,” you might say, “you always have conversions and graces and even miracles at Madonna House. What has been so “spring-like” about recent months?” And I would answer, “It’s truein over 40 years here I’ve experienced greater numbers of visitors, more vocations, powerful outpourings of the Holy Spirit. “But this summer suddenly we were preparing not only for this year’s visitors but for World Youth Day 2002, which will be held in Toronto, practically on our doorstep. You can feel the whole Church in Canada stirring, and hundreds of young people from all over the world coming to encounter Christ with the Pope will also come to Combermere!

“And our Lord sent us, as he always does now, a stream of young people from western and eastern Europe and North America, a larger than usual stream from Latin America, and surprising numbers from Asia, especially from Korea. Suddenly one day there were eleven Koreans, a group of five and the rest individuals, here with us at the very beginning of this millennium particularly consecrated to the evangelization of Asia.”

Numbers don’t mean much, of course. Yet the quality of the talks that our lay people and priests presented in weeks focused on Liturgy and Daily Life, Discernment and Vocations, Church East and West, Dignity of Work, Dimensions of Christian Culture, Catholic Vision of Relationship between Men and Women, and Mary, Mother of the Church was more than matched by the deep response of our visitors.

Then, at the end of August, as we were gearing up for the harvest in our gardens, we were hosting simultaneously both a weekend retreat for Eastern (Melkite) Catholics and one for Canadian young people from Combermere and Oshawa, Ont.! Springtime (with lots of struggle)and we were seeing the goodness and power of Our Lord just as surely as our guests were.

All of this, our whole life for Christ and his Church in fact, is made possible only by your generosity, by your donations of money and material goods, by the alms of your prayers.

Every day our spiritual family prays and offers Masses for you, our friends and benefactorsin gratitude, for all your needs, and for your continued generosity. We thank you with all our hearts, and we count on your prayers. On this day of tragedy, may the Divine Pauper, together with his Mother, bless you and all who have lost so much today with the infinite riches of his infinitely tender, all-powerful love.

 

 

HELD IN HER ARMS

Introduction and Conclusion by Jean Fox

Some time in the 1970’s Catherine Doherty wrote a prayer to Our Lady of Combermere, a prayer which we in MH haven’t taken very seriously. Generally we pray and distribute to others the little one on the 3x5 card. But perhaps it might be a good idea to pray it at this time:

———-

Beloved Mary, Our Lady of Combermere, you are the Mother of all men and women, for your Son made you so.

When he was dying on the cross he gave you to St. John, and he gave St. John to you. In one gesture he who was not able to make any gestures because he was crucified, made you the Mother of everyone. We are all your children.

Unseen, you bend down tenderly over each one of us. If we would only pause for a minute, if we would only quiet our poor minds and enter your great silence, we would know how lovingly you hold us in your arms.

In these days, so many of your children are fragmented; so many wish to die; so many do not know where they are going; so many are refugees, lost in the immense deserts of our huge cities.

Take pity on us. Take pity on us because we are the most pitiful people ever. You see usCatholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hinduspeople of all religions.

You see every one of us and, whereas the arms of your Son were crucified, yours are outstretched to embrace the whole world. Your arms are ready to hold any of us who come to you, and you long to sing us a lullaby. You are always a mother. That is what you have been created forto be Mother of God and of all people.

So we come to you, first bowing low before the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, making upon ourselves the sign of the Holy Cross. In this we find our healing.

Beloved Mother, take me into your arms. Hold me tight. Give me strength for another day. Amen.

———-

We need this prayer today. We need forgiveness, repentance, tenderness, non-judgment, but most of all, we need love for all men and women. Never has it been more important to love those who hate us and to forgive seventy times seven and to say, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do (Lk 23:34). All of us on the earth belong to God. God loves all of us. Let us love one another as never before.

 

 

A VISION ON THE MOUNTAIN

by Catherine Doherty

Once upon at time God, who had been very angry with the Jewish people, in his mercy and kindness stopped being angry and said, Come, let us talk things over (Is 1:18). If only it could happen now!

But for this to happen, two things are necessary. First, people must believe in God. Second, those who believe must stop being angry at him.

I continued climbing the mountain. I climb the mountain of the Lord because I must, because he is calling me. Because it is he who speaks, I move over stones and rocks and deserts and green pastures. This time I was in very lovely green pastures. And all around me, the winds brought me the mercy of Godhis forgiveness, his tenderness, his peace, his love.

And as I sat there, suddenly a cross began to grow. Where did it come from? Slowly the upright beam became ten feet high, and the transverse beam grew from the very heart of it.

I contemplated what was happening, and could only kneel and adore the cross. Then out of the mountains a wind came. It picked me up and threw me down, like hurricanes do, and shouted, “Speak! Speak!”

Lying flat on the green earth, overshadowed by this cross that grew so strangely, I asked, “What shall I say?” I thought to say that the Lord is calling everyone to sit down and talk things over. But they don’t believe in God! The majority don’t. They don’t want to sit down with him. They don’t want to listen to what he has to say.

Still I opened my mouth and, like a torrent, words spilled out.

I knew that I was not myself. The winds spoke for me. I was awed that out of my mouth came the words of Christ, for that is the way it was. I wasn’t thinking. I felt almost dead, and yet I was standing straight, unafraid. I was speaking these words from the mountain, and they went across the world.

Yes, all heard what I had to say, because it wasn’t I who was speaking. I was saying, “Repent! Repent!” until I was tired of the word. But I had to repeat it again and again.

Then I said, “Repent and make peace with one another or you shall all perish in the great fire that is coming.

“Can’t you see? Are you blind? Are you deaf? Repent! This is the time of asking forgiveness of God and then of your neighbor. For we have all sinned against him and against our neighbor. We still have time to repent, to cry out to God, `Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! O Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“We still have time to turn to our brother and be reconciled with him. But there is little time. The invitation of God to come and talk things over will not last forever, because we shall be like the captives of Babylon. We shall be annihilated, and those of us who will not die the merciful death of the body will cry out for forgiveness, for repentance.

“And do you know something? God will hear us. Even if it is the last hour.”

Then the terrain became flat, with no trees. Some grass sprouted here and there, as if it did not want to but had to. The whole place turned drab and gray. Its dull monotony brought depression to my heart.

I looked around. The place was filled with people going about their business, selling and buying. There was practically no breeze. I stood in the midst of all those people, being elbowed and pushed around, knowing I was called to preach the Gospel with my life. But in these dull surroundings, among those drab sellers and buyers, I didn’t feel like opening my mouth.

Then a small wind touched me. It was very soft. It almost didn’t seem as if it was a wind at all. Yet it entered my heart and repeated to me the message that I knew already: “Speak! Tell the Good News that is preached to the poor.”

I hesitated. It was so difficult, so difficult. But I knew that I had to do it. There was no promontory of any kind, no hill, no boulder that I could stand on. There was nothing but this drab, gray terrain crisscrossed with sidewalks and people rushing around like mad, buying and selling.

I spoke of the love of God, of his tenderness, his mercy, his love for us. I spoke of the miracles he had performed. I brought the Scripture in all its purity and simplicity before everyone.

I spoke, because those thoughts came to me, unbidden, as if someone filled my mind with what to say.

Do you know something? My voice, which was fairly powerful, seemed to be absorbed into a huge ball of cotton like that used in hospitals, and it died there. For I was talking to people who were not listening. They were utterly indifferent to what I said. They passed me by without even turning their heads.

They didn’t want to argue anything. No theological or philosophical or other kinds of verities penetrated to their hearts. Nothing. They were like a herd of sheep without a shepherd. It seemed they could not even remember what they had seen on television.

My voice got hoarse as I stood alone speaking. Still I kept proclaiming: “Christ asked us to love one another as he loved us. Think about that.” But nobody did. Not a soul. One can speak to the blind, but can one speak to the deaf?

I felt scalding tears fall on my face, and called out to God, “Lord, have mercy!” A quiet and peace-filled voice answered, “That is who I amthe God of mercy.”

At that I knew not where I was, other than on God’s mountain, the summit of which I never quite reach.

Somehow I seemed suspended over a tremendous precipice that opened on the whole world. I was lying flat on my stomach and looking down, and insanity seemed to take hold of me. Then cold, brusque winds came up and blew away my thoughts, and I didn’t feel insane anymore. I knew that I must preach the Word of God.

But was this possible? For at the bottom of the mountain people seemed to be struggling in some kind of battle. Strangely, there were no tanks or men armed with guns, nothing resembling a war. But from the mountain heights, people looked as if they were ants scurrying, crowding the bridges, crowding the waters. They were swimming across the Hudson River and the East River in New York. They were crossing any river they could find in the USA.

Bridges were collapsing under the weight of overloaded cars. People were trying to run from the atomic bomb which was whispered to be coming.

The winds said, “Speak. Speak.” So I lifted my voice and called out, “Stop it! Stop it! Don’t do it! Don’t activate your arms made for the destruction of the world.

“Look! In the midst of your airplanes and missiles stands an enormous cross. It is as big as the sky. It loses itself in the universe. The transverse beam touches unknown areas. It comes from the hearts of men. See how it goes up and up and up, to the feet of God the Father; how its shadow falls on the whole world!

“Don’t do it! Don’t annihilate! Don’t kill! It is against the commandments of God the loving God who died for us. Don’t do it! Follow him. Repent! Repent!”

My voice rose like thunder, but no one paid any attention. Missiles were there, ready to fire. And fire they did.

Lying flat on the rocks, I saw it all and wept, for I loved. The wind came at me, still cold, but more gently, and out of the wind came a voice: “Now they have seen what their pride and arrogance have done. Pray that they will return to my Father.”

A fog enveloped me, a warm fog which held me tight. I rested in it, and didn’t want to look at anybody or anything. But out of nowhere came a breeze that whispered in my ear, “Speak. Speak.” So I had to proclaim the Good News through the fog.

I began to tell people that God came to save us, that he lived among us, that he was crucified for us, that he loved us beyond all our imagination.

Beyond the fog I could see the hearts of men. I saw with horror and fear that they were buried under gold, silver, and all kinds of valuable things. They didn’t understand that they were slowly being suffocated to death by their gold and silver. But these people stretched out their hands and cried out, “More gold! More silver! More everything!”

Here was the ultimate sin, the sin of greed, selfishness, and pride. What could I do except to cry out into the fog that they should stop while they were still alive!

But that seemed impossible for them to understand. They were selling themselves with that gold and that silver. On the stock exchanges of the world they were buying and selling gold and its paper equivalent, stocks, which would give them, so they thought, happiness.

“Stop,” I cried out to them again, “Wake up! Repent! Come to God! There is still time!”

Then I began to shake uncontrollably, because then I saw also the anger of God.

I knew that I had to enter that anger, that I had to plead for these people, that I had to cry out to God to forgive them, as Moses did when he came down from the mountain and saw the golden calf.

So I entered the anger of God, knelt at his feet, and implored him to forgive people’s sins of greed and selfishness and especially of unrepentance, which were leading them to war.

Just as I fell totally exhausted at the feet of God the Father crying, “Abba! Abba! Be merciful to us sinners!” I heard a gentle voice say, “My Father and I and the Holy Spirit are always merciful, always forgiving. Remember that.”

Excerpted from Urodivoi, 1983, pp. 47-56, available from MH Publications.

 

 

MH Washington

SEPTEMBER 11, 2001

by Angela Redmond

It is eerily quiet on the streets of Capitol Hill this evening as I write this. With the horrifying terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon this morning came everything one would expect: fear, disbelief, prayer, uncertainty, and other emotions as well. One thing that did not set in in Washington, thanks be to God, was widespread chaos.

People were immediately evacuated from all federal buildings and schools, and most businesses and other institutions were shut down as well. Police, of course, were mobilized all over the city.

All air traffic was halted, and so we knew that every plane we heardand there were manywas military.

Needless to say, traffic was very slow. No inbound vehicles were allowed on major arteries, and outgoing traffic crept along slowly but steadily.

On Capitol Hill where our house is locatedas well as on all the streets near major federal buildingsthe only vehicles allowed to enter were those of residents. And all of these had to produce identification papers and proof of address.

Our street was soon filled with people. The teenage pages who work in the Capitol were running to their residence one block away, and other people were heading for their cars. Still others, who looked stranded, simply stood around. Many people, unable to retrieve their cars from parking lots, ventured home on foot.

One woman who was crying said that her husband, who was on his way home from Virginia, wouldn’t be able to get back. But before the morning was over, he showed up. He had walked from Fall Church, Virginia, which is a quite a few miles away.

As the day progressed, the streets grew increasingly quiet. Union Station, a major train and metro station nearby, was closed all day, and the metro was closed for a time. After a while, nothing could be heard except the sirens and planes overhead.

Cell phones weren’t working, and one friend of ours, who works in a nearby Senate Office building, brought some of her colleagues over to use ours.

Here in MH on Capitol Hill, we learned of the disaster in New York from a friend who phoned mainly to let us know that she was in the hospital with a heart condition. We went to the basement to watch the news on TV, and saw the live film of the second plane crashing into the second tower of the World Trade Center.

It was so overwhelming that we could not take it in. We continued to watch and listen for quite a while, and then went to the chapel to pray.

Cathy left for a doctor’s appointment. While she was gone, we heard that now the Pentagon, too, had been hit by an airplane, and we knew that it would be a long time before she would be able to get back home.

Somewhere along the line, I phoned Jean Fox, our director in Combermere. Cathy had tried earlier, but had been unable to get through.

Jean gave us simple directives, asking us especially to be careful of our drinking water supply. She asked us to consider going either to our house in Roanoke, Virginia, or to the one in Raleigh, North Carolina. She told us that she and everyone in Combermere were praying.

By taking back streets through the warehouse district, Cathy eventually made it home. She phoned Jean and told her that it was virtually impossible to go anywhere, and that we would really prefer, if at all possible, to stay with our friends and neighbors who were in the same state of uncertainly and anxiety that we were.

We spent the rest of the day putting one foot in front of the other and keeping an eye on the news. One friend, having walked from her downtown office, spent all day at our house. Another phoned and then walked here from further away. She works in the Department of Commerce, very close to the White House, and people there could see the Pentagon burning from their windows.

Some people phoned to see if we were still having our planned farewell party that evening for Rae. (Rae was soon to leave for Combermere where she has been transferred.)

We decided to go ahead with it for whoever still could and wanted to come. The tone, of course, would be completely different.

There were many phone calls throughout the day, some from people who just wanted to connect with friends at this time, and all of us were in touch with our families. Christina is from Combermere; and when her mother phoned, she told her that the children at the parish school that her brother and sister attend gathered in the auditorium to pray for those who died and for the protection of Christina and Madonna House Washington.

We also received e-mails from several of our MH mission houses, including our house in England.

We took time to pray quietly in the chapel before supper, and the two friends who were with us joined in. After supper, we did the final set-up for the gathering which turned out to be very special.

With one exception, (a priest friend who came by a re-opened part of the metro), the only people who came were those within walking distance. There were only a dozen all together, and Rae was able to visit with each one individually.

At 8:30 we all watched President Bush’s address to the nation

After the address, we gathered in the chapel for a simple prayer service. We opened with a hymn that begins, “Holy, Holy, Holy, though the darkness hide thee….” This was followed by a time of spontaneous intercessory prayer, and we closed with “Amazing Grace.”

Thus ended this unspeakably tragic day.

 

 

The Pope’s Corner

BACK TO YOUR ROOTS

by Pope John Paul II

The Pope gave the following address on September 13th to James Nicholson, the newly-appointed US ambassador to the Vatican. It speaks not only to him and to Americans but to all of us, about the challenges the whole world is facing.

———-

At this time of national mourning for the victims of the terrorist attacks on Washington and New York, I wish to assure you personally of my profound participation in the grief of the American people and of my heartfelt prayers for the President and the civil authorities, for all involved in the rescue operations and in helping the survivors, and in a special way for the victims and their families.

I pray that this inhuman act will awaken in the hearts of all the world’s peoples a firm resolve to reject the ways of violence, to combat everything that sows hatred and division within the human family, and to work for the dawn of a new era of international cooperation inspired by the highest ideals of solidarity, justice, and peace.

In my recent meeting with President Bush I emphasized my deep esteem for the rich patrimony of human, religious, and moral values which have historically shaped the American character. I expressed the conviction that America’s continued moral leadership in the world depends on her fidelity to her founding principles.

Underlying your nations’s commitment to freedom, self-determination, and equal opportunity are universal truths inherited from its religious roots.

From these spring respect for the sanctity of life and the dignity of each human person made in the image and likeness of the Creator, shared responsibility for the common good, concern for the education of young people and for the future of society, and the need for wise stewardship of the natural resources so freely bestowed by a bounteous God.

In facing the challenges of the future, America is called to cherish and live out the deepest values of her national heritage: solidarity and cooperation between peoples, respect for human rights, the justice that is the indispensable condition for authentic freedom and lasting peace.

In the century now opening before us, humanity has the opportunity to make great strides against some of its traditional enemies: poverty, disease, violence.

As I said at the United Nations in 1995, it is within our grasp to see that a century of tears, the 20th century, is followed in the 21st century by a “springtime of the human spirit.”

The possibilities before the human family are immense, although they are not always apparent in a world in which too many of our brothers and sisters are suffering from hunger, malnutrition, and the lack of access to medical care and to education, or are burdened by unjust government, armed conflict, forced displacement, and new forms of human bondage.

In seizing the available opportunities, both vision and generosity are necessary, especially on the part of those who have been blessed with freedom, wealth, and an abundance of resources. The urgent ethical issues raised by the division between those who benefit from the globalization of the world economy and those who are excluded from those benefits call for new and creative responses on the part of the whole international community.

Here I would emphasize again what I said in my recent meeting with President Bush, that the revolution of freedom in the world must be completed by a “revolution of opportunity” which will enable all the members of the human family to enjoy a dignified existence and to share in the benefits of a truly global development.

In this

Thanks also to the commitment of the United States, that process had given rise to hope in the hearts of all those who look to the Holy Land as a unique place of encounter and prayer between peoples.

I am certain that your country will not hesitate to promote a realistic dialogue which will enable the parties involve to achieve security, justice, and peace, in full respect for human rights and international law.

Mr. Ambassador, the vision and the moral strength which America is being challenged to exercise at the beginning of a new century and in a rapidly changing world call for an acknowledgement of the spiritual roots of the crisis which Western democracies are experiencing, a crisis characterized by the advance of a materialistic, utilitarian, and ultimately dehumanizing world view which is tragically detached from the moral foundations of Western civilization.

In order to survive and prosper, democracy and its accompanying economic and political structures must be directed by a vision whose core is the God-given dignity and inalienable rights of every human being, from the moment of conception until natural death.

When some lives, including those of the unborn, are subjected to the personal choices of others, no other value or right will long be guaranteed, and society will inevitably be governed by special interests and convenience.

Freedom cannot be sustained in a cultural climate that measures human dignity in strictly utilitarian terms. Never has it been more urgent to reinvigorate that moral vision and resolve essential to maintaining a just and free society.

In this context my thoughts turn to America’s young people, the hope of the nation. In my pastoral visits to the United States, and above all in my visit to Denver in 1993 for the celebration of World Youth Day, I was able personally to witness the reserves of generosity and good will present in the youth of your country.

Young people are surely your nation’s greatest treasure. That is why they urgently need an all-round education which will enable them to reject cynicism and selfishness and to grow into their full stature as informed, wise, and morally responsible members of the community.

At the beginning of a new Millennium, young people must be given opportunity to take up their role as “craftsmen of a new humanity, where brothers and sistersmembers of the same familyare able at last to live in peace” (Message for the World Youth Day of Peace.

 

 

Word Made Flesh

LOOKING AT IT SQUARELY

Fr. Pat McNulty

The following is a meditation on the readings for November 11th, the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time: 2 Mac 7:1-2, 9-14, 2 Thes 2:16-3:5, and Lk 20:27-38.

Believe it or not, this reflection on the suffering caused by evil was written a couple of days before September 11th.

———-

In this day and age, when we see the latest atrocities on the evening news, it is not difficult for us to imagine this scene in the Book of Maccabees. It is the scene in which a mother watches the torture and martyrdom of each of her seven sons and finally endures her own rather than renounce the faith.

But because we are on audio-visual overload when it comes to horror, it is more difficult for us than for people of former times to begin to take in any atrocity, let alone to continue to stand in faith and hope.

By the time in Jewish history when this event took place, there was a heightened sense of life after death, but it was not as specific as the New Testament revelation of the resurrection. For this Jewish mother, the terribly painful martyrdom of all her children and finally of herself was an awesome act of faith without the sure knowledge of the resurrection.

There is a certain kind of suffering which most human beings more or less willingly embrace. Most of us know that life itself and our own lives in particular will have their own measure of sufferingbe it physical or psychological. And I suppose we are getting more and more accustomed to some level of suffering as a result of natural disastersnamely freezing rain storms, blizzards, hurricanes, high winds, and so forth.

Some of us are even a bit further along on the road to embracing suffering. I have seen many people embrace terrible tragedies in a most heroic way.

All things considered, with most of the above kinds of suffering, I think my attitude is pretty “Christian.” That is to say, I think that whatever suffering comes to me in my life, I will eventually be willing to embrace it and stand in it in faith.

I understand and embrace that suffering which comes upon us as the result of being fallen creatures, but what I cannot understand is the kind of suffering implied in today’s first reading.

It’s when something as unexplainable and evil as what happened to this mother and her children comes to my attention that my problem with suffering kicks in. We’ve all heard about such incidents and read about them in our own dayatrocities beyond human imagining. They seem so horrible that the only thing we seem to be able to do is to forget them as soon as possible.

But, of course, as Christians, we dare not forget them. In order to discover the truth behind them, we must look at them squarely. And the truth is this: whether we know it, believe it, or can comprehend it or not, the murder of the Son of God was greater than all the human atrocities ever committed in history!

And the very same thing caused this as causes all the other lesser atrocities: the desire to be God.

I hope that none of my sins will ever warp my mind and heart so much that I would ever personally do the sort of horrendous things I’ve read and heard that others have done. But I don’t know what I would do if I lived in their situation if I had their psychological, economic, political, and family background.

In “Awakened by a TV Ad,” my column in the September RESTORATION, I said something about “the poor” which I want to repeat in this context of human suffering and atrocities because there is something similar. In that column I said that we should not hide from other people’s poverty. I said that we should look the poor in the face so that so we can see Christ in them and so that their poverty will change our hearts.

I think we need to do the same thing with atrocities and the sufferings caused by evil: we need to look at them. We need to let them tear at our hearts and bring tears to our eyes, and to let them take us into the depths where there are no human answers or explanations.

We need to let them take us back to the greatest of all possible atrocitiesthe crucifixion and murder of the Son of God.

It is there we see the source of all suffering, of all hatred, and of all war, namely the desire of man to be God. And that desire can grow to the point where you will do anything to have it.

We call this “egomania.” And you know, egomania is not confined to the kinds of atrocities we read about in the newspaper. Deep inside, sometimes unconsciously, we all want to be God.

We all want to be God in some waywhether in our own lives or in the lives of others. And egomania, like all sins, begins in small thingsin our hearts, in our homes, in our work places.

Then, as we become accustomed to these little things, they become bigger: I’m the only one who knows anything about this or that, and it’s gonna be my way or else. And bigger: they have no rights because they are dumb, or lazy, or disenfranchised, or a threat to society.

And bigger: anyone who disagrees with me will pay the price. And bigger: I know what is best and how to achieve it, so let me be your leader. And bigger: let me be God!

Whatever of that egomania is in us Christians, the source of it is actually a lack of faith in the resurrection. We feel the need to be God now and then because we do not believe that God is really God.

We do not really believe that Jesus has conquered death itself, including all real and all potential atrocities. We have to be God because do not really believe that we have nothing to fear.

We have to be God because we do not believe that this world is temporal and belongs to God alone. We have to be God because we do not believe that in the end everything will be justified according to God’s heart and not ours.

And only God, who alone can judge hearts, ultimately knows which atrocities are truly worse than mine or yours.

Yes, this Christian revelation of the resurrection can make us heroic human beings in a world gone mad if we do not abuse it by hiding behind it in order to avoid looking at history square in the face. Yes, this belief in the resurrection can make us heroic if we can squarely look at history and still say, “Nothing can ever be more atrocious than the murder of the Son of God. And nothing will ever be beyond the power of the resurrection.”

Oh, for the faith of that mother in the book of Maccabees! The mother who didn’t even know about the resurrection but yet believed with a heroism beyond heroism that God is God. She was able to believe that all was well even as she witnessed the agony of her own sons and followed it with her own.

We are “children of the resurrection!” God is with us, and, ultimately, there is nothing on this earth for us to fear.

 

 

THE CROWNING OF MY LIFE

by José de Vinck

The following is an Act of Acceptance of Death written by a close friend.

———-

In the name of the most holy Trinity, I (name)…., with complete sincerity of heart and with faith, hope, and love in my soul, declare in your presence, O angel of God, my holy guardian, that with your assistance I will accept without revolt any form of death which God’s providence may have in store for meat this very moment or after many more years of toil in his vineyard in this very place or in any distant corner of the earth.

I accept death in peace or in violence, for I know it will come to me as God’s final gift on earth. For death is the gate and the dawn, the end of the pilgrimage and the fulfillment of the promise.

I do not pray that my death be painless, for I wish to carry my share of the sufferings of Christ; and it is at the final hour that I wish to offer the only thing I can truly give because it is truly mine: my pain.

Let this hour be the crowning of my life, the richest moment of my time on earth. Let it summarize my constant effort towards you, by being part of your own death upon the cross.

Yes, I am weak, and life is good, and I may fail when comes the time of trial. And so I pray to you, St. Joseph, my patron saint and the patron of a happy death, and most of all to you, most holy Virgin Mother of God, to come to my rescue in time of need, so that, through the merits of Christ, I may be able to keep the promise I have made today.

I pray that I may live peacefully in the expectation of the last hour, that I may never fall away from grace, and that I may ever rise to greater faith, hope, and love for God and neighbor, until such time as I am called upon to give account of all my thoughts, words, and deeds.

And I pray that when all is done, I may, with the repentant thief, hear these words of pardon and love: Amen, I say to you, this day you shall be with me in paradise (Lk 23:43).

 

 

Notes from Far and Near

GHANA

There have been various new developments in our apostolate here, and it feels as if a new chapter has begun.

Fr. David’s presence has been a catalyst for some of these developments. Through him, Bishop Lodonu requested that we give talks on our MH way of life and vocation in general to most of the senior secondary schools and training colleges in the diocese. We are hoping that some seeds of Catherine’s vision and the life of the kingdom take root and flourish in the hearts of these young Ghanaians.

We’ve also had several young Ghanaians and Togolese come and join in our life for a week or two. Two of them are in the process of discerning vocationsone, a man who heard about us through our talk, to the Spiritan Fathers, and the other, a young local woman and long-time friend, to the Holy Spirit Sisters. These young people bring life and joy, and have also been a big help on our farm.

This one-acre farm in a neighboring village, a farm which our diocese is lending us, is another life-giving addition to our lives. But swinging a hoe and cutlass under the hot sun has already led one of us to start pricing tractors. We’ve planted maize, cassava, and yams, and the first of the maize harvest is already in.

The best part about the farm is seeing the shock on people’s faces when they see us weeding our own farm, raising our own chickens, or making charcoal for our coal-pot.

One recent joy-filled event at the parish church, an event at which we helped out in varius ways, was the ordination of three young men for our diocese. One of them, Fr. John Bosso, is the youngest brother of a carpenter friend of ours.

The next big event will be the final vows of three SMMC sisters later this month.

Darrin Prowse

MH Ghana

 

COMBERMERE

The youth in this area are being formed and are “going deeper.” Recently sixteen of them came together at MH’s Cana Colony for a youth leadership formation weekend.

The inspiration for this weekend (coming, we believe, ultimately from Our Lady of Combermere) came through Trudi Cortens (director of MH Toronto) and our friend Angelina Steenstra, both of whom saw the need for the continuing formation for the youth after the high of a weekend retreat.

On this second weekend, these young people were given help in “walking with the Lord,” and they shared their struggles and experiences with one another.

Jim and Lisa Anderson, a local couple, were retreat masters, and the others who formed the leadership team included Angelina Steenstra, local people, and members of MH both from the training center and St. Joseph’s House. Fr. Jim Duffy, currently of MH Toronto, was present at the opening as the group gathered in front of the statue of Our Lady of Combermere at Madonna House to consecrate themselves to Our Lady. This consecration was a fruit of Fr. Duffy’s time of “planting seeds,” of founding two youth cenacles (Marian prayer groups) in the area a number of years ago. (Both groups are still going.)

This weekend was a new experience, not only for the youth, but also for those of us who led the weekend. As the youth were being formed, so were we.

For us, it was an experience of walking together as a team, and of facing blocks within ourselves so as to better serve our younger brothers and sisters. The tremendous unity we experienced as we worked and prayed together made me say, “This is how we are meant to livein this openness and vulnerability.”

The upcoming World Youth Day in Toronto and the planning it requires have also been occasions of the gathering together of youth and adults of the area.

One of the first fund-raising activities in this area, for example, took place at a recent renewal weekend at Canadian Martyrs Parish in Combermere. At this event, the youth sold lunches and suppers, and also helped with the needed setting up and cleaning up. Thus they not only reaped the benefits of attending the weekend, but they also raised some money for World Youth Day.

On the diocesan level, youth are already registering for next year’s World Youth Day. And a few formation days are being planned so that all those attending from the diocese can come together and receive some preparations for the event.

Even some of those not directly involved in planning or attending World Youth Day are being inspired to offer suggestions for fund-raising and are getting excited about the good things happening around the preparations.

Jo-Anne Paquette

St. Joseph’s House

 

 

MOM’S HOME-GOING

by Regina Rolph

The African-Americans that I work with have a beautiful way of describing their loved ones’ passing. They call it “home-going.”

My mother died recently, and there are three things I learned during the time of her illness and death.

We can’t take it with us. When we see someone we love dying, we fixate on different things. Some people are upset by the tubes, some by the medicines, some by the way a person looks, or by something else.

For me it was “things.” This woman who had once had a house, a car, clothes, and so forth now had so few things. And no one could understand why this upset me so much, because I am not a “thing” person. Things have never meant as much to me as they do for some people.

But it was very, very hard to see that the dear old folks in the nursing home had only a closet with a few clothes and several drawers of things. Mom mostly had holy cards and a few sentimental items that she had saved. It was, and is, very hard to look at them. I almost wished she had had more not to take with her.

Interestingly, just the month before, I had begun thinking about pre-paying for funeral arrangements for myself. I did not want my son and his family to have to take on such a burden when I die. So I began clearing out my own little place.

It was quite an experience to go through old programs and other things I had saved and to realize that no one else would want them. They had meaning only for me. It was hard to get rid of some of this stuff and to make room in my apartment, but it was liberating.

There is a time for everything. The week before Mom died, my sister said to me, “Isn’t it hard to look at Mom? She is so thin and weak-looking.” All of a sudden I felt the Lord say to me, “It’s OK. She’s that way because she doesn’t need her body any more.” What a comfort that was!

Yes, there is a time for everything: a time to take care of and build up our bodies and a time to realize that the health of the body is no longer necessary. It is not necessary when the soul is preparing to leave it behind.

God is in control. The hospice staff who took care of Mom said this over and over. They said that, though there are certain ways we can tell when someone is going to die, we can never be sure of the time because “God is in control.”

They just said it to me over and over, and this were very liberating. It meant that if I happened to fall asleep and miss the moment of Mom’s death, it would be all right. It would be as it was meant to be.

Yes, God is truly in control of death. When Mom died, all of us were with hereven one sister who had a big fear of death. She had not wanted to be present for that moment, but at the last minute, she came, and this has been very healing for her.

And all of us received every grace that we had prayed for.

I had felt that Mom had not let go, and I had prayed that she would. Just fifteen moments before she died, her whole aspect changed. She became very calm, and the very air in the room changed.

At that moment, I believe that Jesus opened the door to heaven just a bit, and Mom saw it and said,“OK.” This was the closest I have ever felt to perfect peace.

When Mom took her last breath, it was like a candle going out. We sang “Amazing Grace,” and we prayed. We called the night nurse and aide and all of us held hands and prayed together.

Then my sister’s grandson spoke up. “I saw the angels come and swoosh her up,” he said, lifting up his arms.

Yes, all of it was all right, because God is truly in control. And we were very, very blessed.

 

 

GOD’S TENDERNESS

by Chuck Sharp

In every one of us, there is an empty place in our hearts. Sometimes it’s just a small hole, but sometimes it’s very deep and very emptyseemingly a great chasm. It’s that place where we are isolated and alone.

Though sometimes it is bearable, at other times, it is excruciatingly painfulalmost more than we can bear. That is when we are tempted to do anything to get away from the pain. So we use things or people to try to distract ourselves and escape it.

This is precisely the place where Christ, in his great tenderness, wants to meet us. He goes to that place and says to us over and over, “You are not alone. You do not have to feel isolated. I am here. The Father and I are here. The whole reason I came to earth was to show you that the Father and I are here.”

One of the gifts we have received here at Madonna House is a particular emphasis on the tenderness of God. This emphasis, quite strong in the Russian Christian tradition, was communicated to us by Catherine. Over and over, she connected it to two imagesthe Infant and the cross.

Look at one of the icons of Our Lady of Tenderness. It shows her holding the Infant Jesus to her cheek. See the beautiful exchange of love and trust and tenderness between Mother and Child.

Now consider for a moment that this tiny, helpless Infant is the God who created the universe, the God who is all-powerful and far beyond all human comprehension. In order to show us how much he identifies with us, this God chose to come to us as a tiny, helpless baby.

Though Catherine has written a great deal about the cross, I would like here to refer to a line I heard a few years ago from a very holy Scripture scholar: “When you look at a crucifix, you see the fullest expression of the Father’s love for the Son.”

Yes, the Father’s love for the Son, not the Father’s love for usthough that is surely there as wellbut the Father’s love for the Son. Because the Son’s deepest desire was to bring us to the realization that the Father loves us.

Why is it so hard for us to believe, and even harder to experience, the tenderness of God? The reason is the profound breakwhat we call original sinin the relationship between the Father and each of us.

So, to go against the lie that we are alone is a lifelong struggle. What to do when faced with it? Here are a few simple suggestions.

As soon as you realize that you are starting to enter that place where you feel isolated and alone“no one loves me; no one cares”renounce the lie and place it on the altar. And pray the name of Jesus.

Spend time with Scripture. Nothing goes against a lie as powerfully as the truth, especially the truth as expressed in the New Testament. Soak in the Word of God, and let it slowly wash away that lie.

Reach out in love. Christ came to reveal to us that we are called to love, and at every moment, I have in front of me a specific call to love. This is the duty of the moment, this moment, right now. It is not, “What will I do tomorrow?” “How do I transform society?”, “What can I do to heal my brother or sister?”

No, I only have this moment. Love will slowly break down the separation that I am experiencing.

Possibly the most difficult thing to do is to just stand still in our pain. We want to escape it. We want to assuage it with people or things. But if we can come to that point where we can be quiet, stand still, and go into our own hearts, we will eventually experience the tenderness of God. For God is in our hearts.

We are made for unity. We are made for love. And our God longs for us to come to him and to know him precisely in those places where we are most afraid and in pain.