How Beautiful Are My Feet?

This past weekend, we joined in the celebration of the Inauguration of Fr. Dave Caron as President of Aquinas Institute.  For the Inaugural Address, Fr. Dave invited Sr. Barbara Reid, a Dominican Sister of Grand Rapids and Academic Dean at Catholic Theological Union, to speak. 

Sr. Barbara preached on the Letter from Paul to the Romans which concludes with, “How beautiful are the feet that bring good news” (Romans 10:8-15).  In her preaching, Sr. Barbara reflected on the many types of shoes needed for preaching.  Sturdy shoes to navigate the challenges of being a preacher...  Mismatched shoes that allow us to try on the shoes of others – experiencing their pain, joys and sorrows and bringing peace...  Communal shoes, shared by all, which allow roles to be shifted and shared.  And, finally, no shoes, feeling the ground in holiness... taking off our shoes in reverence of God and the creation that reveals God. 

Copyright (c) <a href='http://www.123rf.com'>123RF Stock Photos</a>

I have lots of shoes.  Some are for comfort and convenience.  Flip-flops allow me to check the mail, run around the house or to the grocery store without a lot of effort.  I can quickly take them off or put them back on.  I have hiking boots and trail tennis shoes which provide stability and safety in places that could otherwise be dangerous.  My primary shoes at the novitiate are black patent leather ballet flats.  They are fairly universal, but not perfect for any situation.  They can be worn with jeans, a skirt, capris, or just about anything, but don’t provide the safety that hiking boots do (although they look a lot better!).    I have heels which, although they don’t get taken out often, are perfect for weddings and special events.  I feel beautiful in them and they allow for twirling on the dance floor, but would mangle my feet if worn on a regular basis.  I have slippers that keep my feet warm on cold nights and in the morning when I’m stumbling down the stairs for a cup of coffee. 

To be honest, if I could, I would walk around barefoot all the time. Bare feet are humbling.  Feet are an area of our body that are covered up for ½ the year – more in colder parts of the country.  My feet are a little bumpy and I have high arches.  I have big feet and long toes.  My heels are rough and my skin is dry.  Even with all of that, they are the feet I have and serve me well.  My feet support me as I go to class and ministry.  They can bend when I need to reach the top shelf or need extra support to kneel down.  My feet were ritually washed during the Holy Thursday service at Sinsinawa last month.  This was a humbling experience, especially in the fact that during this 25^th Anniversary year of the Collaborative Dominican Novitiate, my feet were washed by one of the first women to dream of a CDN.  On a daily basis, we have our feet washed and wash the feet of others – we just don’t call it that.  We are constantly served and serve those around us.  Our washed feet are then enclosed by the shoes we need for the day -- whether sturdy, mismatched, communal, flip-flops or heels – and we go out to bring good news.   Hmm… What shoes will I wear tomorrow?

Jenn Schaaf   

Building a home in God's Love

Adela Langa, Dominican Sisters of Adrian

At the beginning of our time at the CDN, a wise man advised me to not let St. Louis become an airport stop, and I have to confess that I have been spending plenty of time in my internal airport.  And I think that’s what this canonical year has called us to do: to go deeper in our discernment, to dive in the pool of surrendering, to embrace God’s call to new life, to stay open to welcoming the unknown. 

 Airports are fascinating places.  A pause in between directions.  We come to the CDN sort of like arriving in an airport, each with our own bags, only to embark on a new journey together, but one on which we can only take whatever weight the airline we choose allows.  And as needed, we help each other place the bags in the appropriate compartments so that we can enjoy the trip rather than be confined to one position only, which would limit our ability to appreciate the view from various angles.

Our trip so far has had various layovers and each one has been an invitation to see God in all creation and to stretch the boundaries of our own hearts. As an immigrant, I have struggled to accept that for a while I do not have a ‘home country’.  Romania is my country of origin and yet this August is the 10th anniversary of my arriving in new lands.  I have chosen the U.S. as my home for a while but never quite decided that this would be my home as the Transylvanian lands kept calling me back.  Never has this pull been more challenging than during this time here at the CDN.  And yet it makes perfect sense that the time before embarking on a new plane, one looks at all other possible destinations.  

Have you noticed how when in an airport, we tend to look at appealing or intriguing places, and wish that we could explore more places but at the same time know that our chosen destination is the one for which we have prepared and then once again commit ourselves to enjoy the adventures that await us.  Sometimes we would rather take a new direction because we know that ahead of us lies the call to face challenging choices, to enter into difficult conversations, to confront our own limitations and prejudices.  Who wouldn't go to Hawaii on a cold, windy, snow storm type of day?  And yet, how beautiful the view when the snow sets, the wind calms down, and the sun comes out.

I have been neither here nor there, in between home lands, and yet, I have come to see how this is exactly where I needed to be.  In this discerning airport, I have had wonderful opportunities to allow people to love me as ‘the other’ and to love them as one who has been the fortunate recipient of abundant blessings.  

It’s so much easier to wash someone else’s feet and yet so much more vulnerable to allow others to wash ours.  Never underestimate though the loving gaze we receive as we place our naked feet in the hands of our Beloved God.  In this airport I have allowed God to touch me and now I can say with all my heart:  

My Lord and my God.   Your people will be my people because you have loved me first and in your love I have built my home.  

Farewell from Alexa

In his Chronicles of Narnia series, C.S. Lewis created a peaceful place called the Wood Between the Worlds. Scattered amid unfolding growth of grass and trees were a series of glistening pools—each leading to a different world. In the story, some children journey to a pool of a ruined magical palace, a pool containing Narnia, and a pool containing modern London. I have come to the realization that I was trying to live in two pools at the same time, and unable to fully live into either. There is the beautiful world of religious life and intimacy in community, and there is the world of fully expressing my art and imagination. In the last few weeks, I have found myself in a place like the peaceful woods, and knowing that I needed to choose which path to continue on. With the help of my community here, and the presence of the Holy Spirit, I have come to the difficult decision of journeying on in a pool different from religious life. I may return to the Wood Between the Worlds in the future, but for now I have a sense of both sorrow and peace that my journey is taking a different road. I thank everyone for their prayers, support, and love during my time of discernment—you will always be with me. Namárië, mellon nin

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

— J.R.R. Tolkien

Read my blog at:
http://imaginationlane.net/blog

Rewriting Lent

This Lent, I have chosen to take time to rewrite some of the devotional prayers from our Catholic tradition.  I've begun with those that have to do with Mary.  (Yes, I know this is probably more appropriate for Advent, but that is where I am at the moment.)  So, for this blog post, I'm going to share my version of the Angelus.  A version of the Angelus can be found here: http://www.ourcatholicprayers.com/the-angelus.html

Jenn


A small quiet voice stirred Mary,
her attention brought forth new life -- God within her.

Dear Mary, faithful child, God is in you.  
You are filled with blessing, as is the child you carry.
God's holiness is within you, 
you are called to share that holiness with women of all ages.

Pay attention!  Mary has given her life over to God.
Let me do the same -- living in your Word.


Dear Mary, faithful child, God is in you.  
You are filled with blessing, as is the child you carry.
God's holiness is within you, 
you are called to share that holiness with women of all ages.

What was written of God has become real
and is here among us.


Dear Mary, faithful child, God is in you.  
You are filled with blessing, as is the child you carry.
God's holiness is within you, 
you are called to share that holiness with women of all ages.

Pray for us Mary, carrier of God,
that we will live up to what God has called us to be.

Fill us God with deep faithfulness.  Let it flow through our bodies.  We know of your self-giving act.  We too have heard that still small voice.  Although we will encounter pain and sorrow in our lives, may we also encounter the fullness of life and the new life experienced in Mary.  May you always be with us O Wisdom and may those we love -- here and gone -- be at peace.  Amen.

CDN's 25th Anniversary in St. Louis

This year the Collaborative Dominican Novitiate celebrates its 25th anniversary.  On February 1, 2013 we gathered at Aquinas Institute for evening prayer and a dessert reception.  Below is the script for the preaching I did on Mark 4:26-34.

We are grateful to all who have made this collaboration possible and we thank you for journeying with us.  Have a blessed Lenten season.

A few weeks ago, during a session on self, family and community, Mike Pollard, our facilitator, asked the Intercommunity Novitiate Group to reflect on how our families functioned, how our houses were built. In particular to look at whether we had gates and/or fences around our properties. And what type of fences. As we shared our experiences, we pointed out how much our identity is influenced by boundaries or lack thereof.  For example. I grew up in a Romanian-German village.  The houses are almost glued to each other and yet the gates are almost as high as the houses.  Most families have a small farm, and all land properties surround the village but they are all open fields.  No fences between properties.  When time comes for planting or harvesting or any of the in-between labors, everyone goes out into the fields at about the same time.  You can see whether someone needs help carrying heavy loads or if they need to finish the work as rain starts, and you go and help them.  And because all this work is in the open, you help each other even when you don’t feel like it.  When the fields are open, people exchange the fruits of their labor much more easily.  If you don’t have many apples but plenty of grapes, you exchange with the neighbor who doesn’t have enough grapes but has plenty of apples. These farmers see themselves as a group sharing the same mission and vision: sustainability. For themselves and future generations. 

I am not a farmer.  But at different times in my life I have shared a mission and vision with various groups.  For the last three years I have been working in the fields of Dominican life.  In August I came to St Louis with Alexa, Jenn, and Renee.  We each brought a bag of dirt from our congregational campuses.  We put it all in one pot and planted different plants that Joye and Megan had prepared for us.  We trusted that the St Louis dirt that was at the bottom of the pot will nourish our plants.  This hasn’t been just our hope.  It has been the hope of CDN’s founding mothers and the sisters who saw tremendous potential in opening the congregational fences.  I can only imagine the trust it has taken to put human and material resources together for the sake of the mission.  To labor in open fields.  To share gifts for the mission of Jesus.

Today’s Gospel reading invites us to use our imagination.  To picture the kingdom of God as a mustard seed.  A garden plant that spreads so fast that it takes over the garden.  Have you seen any plant like that?  Any plants that as much as you try to remove from the garden, you can’t?  Somehow they just keep coming back and spread? I can’t help but wonder how we would have reacted if we had been there with Jesus.  What would we have said to his challenging invitation to look all around us? 

I probably would have given him a look.  One that showed my surprise.  A look that my community knows by now.  Maybe I would have told him that I had never heard of a powerful empire to be compared to something as ordinary as the mustard bush.  After all, the cedar tree would have been the image everyone expected as the symbol of power.  The image of the cedar tree as God’s kingdom would have given them hope.  I imagine I would have started looking at the mustard bushes growing all along the Sea of Galilee.  I probably would have wondered how something so ordinary, how something as ordinary as me can say something about God’s kingdom.  Maybe you can relate to that too.  Maybe you would have been surprised as well. 

The other day I was looking at the plants the four of us novices planted, and I wish I could tell you that they all grew into beautiful plants.  However, remember, I am not a farmer, and obviously not a gardener either. At least not yet.  Two of our plants did not make the transition from the first to the second pot.  And by the way they look today, they might not make it to the middle of June. But who knows? When I looked at the plants the other day, I was struck to discover not the two plants that had survived but 5 branches. One of the plants broke into 3 different branches that, although look quite the same, are of different lengths. 

I thought to myself, I wish they were more ordinary.  I wish they were more like the mustard bush.  Then they could have spread without us being in charge of their growth.  But then I saw the pot.  And I saw the walls.  How could they ever spread in a pot?  The walls did not give them enough room.   I think next time we’ll try planting them outside so they can grow strong roots and spread all over the garden.  And I think next time I will ask for help.  I will ask someone who is gifted in gardening to come take a look at our garden.  It will probably be wise to ask someone who knows our neighborhood.  Someone who knows the soil around our house. 

Our Dominican sisters had the wisdom to do just that.  Today we celebrate 25 years of laboring in the fields of mission. Side by side.  No fences.  No walls.  We celebrate ordinary lives that have been growing branches in God’s kingdom.  In 1987 formation directors and sisters in leadership from 19 congregations of Dominican women came together to start plowing in the fields of collaboration.  They dared to imagine that a nationwide collaboration in the formation of canonical novices was not only possible but also worth pursuing.  As is the case with any collaboration, they had concerns, they had hopes, and they had dreams. 

25 years ago they formed a circle of wisdom. When time came to move from their circle into the fields, they first had to stand and give their YES.  Since then 16 congregations have been laboring together for the sake of the mission of Jesus.  With them came 14 co-directors, 160 novices, board members, formation directors, and CDN presenters and facilitators.  Today we know that when novices come to the CDN, we don’t run off to other congregations.  Quite the opposite.  We ask more questions because we want to know how to follow the seasons that take us in the fields of mission.  We want to understand ourselves as new members of the Dominican Family.  We embrace a new layer to our identity, and we do this by entering into dialogue with one another, the broader Church, and the extended community. 

The current CDN community has 6 members from 6 congregations: Alexa from San Raphael, Jenn from Blauvelt, Renee from Sparkill, Megan from Grand Rapids, Joye from Peace, and I from Adrian.  However, our community has not been working alone in the fields of mission.  We have been the fortunate recipients of generous support coming from our diverse neighbors: our Franciscan sisters, our Dominican brothers, Sisters of Providence, School sisters of Notre Dame, our OMI brothers, Sisters of Charity, Alexian Brothers, Daughters of Charity, the Aquinas community, the people who have welcomed us at our ministries –Catholic Charities, Children’s Hospital, Women in Transition, and Interfaith Legal Services for Immigrants.  As you can see, collaboration has grown like the mustard seed, and

Today we praise the God who called us to open congregational fences.

We bless the people who listened to that call and became mustard seeds for more branches.

We preach the good news of Jesus Christ:  God’s kingdom is all around us.

~Adela Langa, Dominican Sisters of Adrian

First Snowfall

I am grateful for the stunning and magical snowfall of Tuesday—the first time I've been able to see it falling other than in photos. There is something special about it that reminds me of the manna coming from God—it is absolutely gorgeous and I am so grateful to have experienced it.

— Sr Alexa

Visit to Colonia Esperanza Mission

In early January, Alexa visited the Dominican Sisters of San Rafael mission in Tijuana 

which enables families to better their education, living conditions, and job situation.