A Place at the Table

A Place at The Table

Our Italian/Irish family get togethers are large. Typically, at least ten or fifteen gather for dinner, even when it’s only immediate family. I have always loved how we celebrate birthdays and holidays, but how do we look to outsiders?

Though full of love, our often loud and borderline obnoxious group probably looks like a three-ring circus at times. Possibly we are more normal than I give us credit for. In either case, bringing family together is very important to me. The family unit, however, does not only apply to those related to you but also to the body of Christ. God unites us all as the body of the Church, which is cause for celebration as well.

Recently I hosted my family for a holiday, and as the hostess, I kept busy cooking and ensuring my guests had an enjoyable time. I love having my family and friends over to our home. Over the years, we have invested in many updates that make the space more inviting and comfortable. One of those new additions which I am particularly proud of is a portrait of the Last Supper.

Jesus celebrated with his disciples at the last supper by reclining at the table and sharing bread and wine. The warmth of the picture I chose to display is very inviting. The faces of those in the room appear captivated by Jesus. The scene draws my faithful heart in, and even a non-believer would find it compelling.

Since the scene is Jesus having a meal with the disciples, I knew the dining room was our only option when deciding where to hang it. Wall space was an issue because of a couple of windows in that room. Because of the space limitations, the picture appears larger than life. I don’t think that’s all bad. It brings Jesus right to our table.

On the afternoon of our holiday, as my Dad rose from his seat, he commented on one area of the painting, bringing a sense of intrigue to those of us present. The disciples and Jesus are all seated around the table. In one area between Jesus and another disciple is a large gap. The lighting in the picture has a beautiful shadow on the wall behind Jesus and the others. No shadow is in this area, suggesting an open space. A place at the table, so to speak. 

I cannot recall Dad’s exact wording, but his comment was beautiful. He wondered if the area of space alongside Jesus was for us. Remembering it now as I put these words to the page fills me with love. I grew excited and thanked him for giving me a topic to write about. It wasn’t until later that I focused on inserting myself in that spot.

I studied the disciples’ expressions and thought about what mine would look like. Would I look surprised by Jesus’ words or have the appearance of peace and comfort? Upon another glance, I noticed that one of the disciples had his face against his folded hands. Does this represent sadness or concern? After contemplating the scene, I concluded that my facial expression would be as it is now, joyfully expressing God’s light and love. 

A relationship with Jesus brings pure joy, which looks different for everyone. Some may appear calm and peaceful, and others are joyful when they rest within praying hands. Dad has given me a new glimpse into this part of my journey with Christ, and for that, I am grateful. God has invited me to the table through the conversation that day. An invitation that I choose to accept every day, and I pray the same for you. God Bless.


Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images copyright Kimberly Novak and Canva

Mount Carmel

Mount Carmel

By this Chronos time of our renewed baptism in the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, pleasant weather has finally arrived in most parts of the United States. Many of us as Catholics can look forward to outdoor liturgical celebrations with the beauty of nature surrounding us in this season.

The public witness of Corpus Christi processions; devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary; as well as the glory of sacramental ordination for well-formed young men to the sacred priesthood; all are spiritual highlights that await us in June.

Mount Carmel commonly refers to the promontory of a mountain range with the same name, located about thirty miles west of the Sea of Galilee, on a peninsula that penetrates into the Mediterranean Sea. Today it stands at the edge of a modern city, Haifa, Israel, near the ancient Crusader city of Acre.

Dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary as Our Lady of Mount Carmel, and stewarded by the Carmelite orders since the thirteenth century, this popular pilgrimage site is also called Stella Maris, Star of the Sea. This may be in part because the entire peninsula is surrounded by water, but the roots of the alternate title go back much further into history.

Scholars believe that the usage ‘Star of the Sea,’ as both a place name and as a title for Mary, began with St. Jerome. He translated Mary’s Hebrew name, according to its meaning in the annals of the Exodus from Egypt — Miriam, the sister of Moses and Aaron, bore the same name with the same spelling as Mary, the mother of Jesus.

The site on which the Mount Carmel monastery stands today has additional roots that go deep into the Old Testament.

Sign at the base of the statue of Elijah calling down fire from heaven to defeat the prophets of Baal, in the monastery gardens, Mount Carmel. Author’s personal photo, used with permission.

A sign engraved in Latin, Hebrew, and Arabic at the base of a statue of the prophet Elijah in the monastery gardens declares the understory grotto at Mount Carmel to be Elijah’s cave, and this mountain the site at which he defeated the prophets of Baal (I Kings, Chapter 18):

(17) When Ahab saw Elijah, he said to him, “Is it you, you disturber of Israel?”

(18) He answered, “It is not I who disturb Israel, but you and your father’s house, by forsaking the commands of the LORD and you by following the Baals.

(19) Now summon all Israel to me on Mount Carmel, as well as the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal and the four hundred prophets of Asherah who eat at Jezebel’s table.”

(20) So Ahab summoned all the Israelites and had the prophets gather on Mount Carmel (I Kings, 18:17-20.). (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/1kings/18).

 Elijah’s activity on Mount Carmel did not stop there, either. In II Kings, Chapter 1, we read that:

(3) …the LORD said to Elijah the Tishbite: Go and meet the messengers of Samaria’s king, and tell them: “Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going to inquire of Baalzebub, the god of Ekron?”

(4) For this, the LORD says: You shall not leave the bed upon which you lie; instead, you shall die … (II Kings, 1:3-4) (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/2kings/1)

 Elijah delivered the message as God had commanded. Then he raced with haste up to the top of Mount Carmel, so he could watch over the Jezreel Valley for this new king’s angry men, who had been sent to kill him.

Twice again Elijah was forced to call down fire that destroyed two commanders and two battalions of fifty men, before a third commander who had been sent with more men to capture him pleaded for mercy, and received it. (II Kings 1:1-18). (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/2kings/1)

Fr. Lawrence Hoffmann celebrates mass in the garden at Mount Carmel monastery, Haifa, Israel. Author’s personal photo, used with permission.

The holy mass that my pilgrimage group was privileged to experience in the garden at Mount Carmel was a peaceful and anointed celebration.

At the end of our liturgy, as the priest pronounced the final blessings, into the silence after each human response came a single gentle “caw,” in chorus from the birds in the trees.

Despite the many problems our human lives face today, and the impotent ‘baals’ that the misguided seek for answers, there is still ‘a God in Israel’ – as there always has been, and always will be.

Let’s live in Kairos time this June.

May you feel ‘amens’ resounding from God’s creation, and continue to bring your own witness into the world.

May you remember that Our beloved Lady, Star of the Sea, stands guard at Mount Carmel, where Elijah the Tishbite worked his miracles. They continue together, to watch over us all.

©Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias

Featured Photo: Welcome sign at Mt. Carmel. Author’s personal photo, used with permission.

 

Maria Riley shares tips for combating writer’s block.

As a Catholic writer, I am blessed and challenged by the knowledge that what I am writing is not really my own words. My goal every time I sit down at the keyboard is to write the words God wants from me. For this reason, I have learned that I don’t suffer from a traditional writer’s block, but rather a spiritual block when the words don’t come.

I’ve often joked that I wish God would send me an email outlining exactly what he wants me to do. I am not known for my patience. When I feel lost without inspiration, I want a quick fix and immediate answer to what I should be writing that day. The reality is that God doesn’t work on our timeline. His inspiration isn’t a tap we can turn on and off when we are ready for it.

The tricks for overcoming a spiritual block are simple in theory, but the practice can be challenging. The more we talk to God through reading scripture, spending quiet time in prayer, and pursuing faith-based activities and friendships, the more we will hear God communicating with us throughout the day. The more we hear directly from God, the easier it is to sit and write with confidence and ease.

Unfortunately, our daily lives are inundated with noise and distractions that prevent us from hearing the quiet words God is trying to speak into our hearts. It has been my experience that God rarely yells. He is always reaching out and seeking us, yet he waits patiently for us to respond to him.

Finding time to sit quietly seems counterintuitive when a deadline is looming, yet it may be the only way to fully open the channel to God. Nathaniel Hawthorn penned one of my favorite quotes: “Happiness is like a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.”

I have found this to be true for writing inspiration. So long as I am using my own strength and resources to actively pursue the right subject matter, I will always fail. If I can force myself to sit down, be still, and listen, that is when the creative juices flow freely.

Another method for combatting Catholic writer’s block is to not wait until you are at the computer to gather your inspiration. I keep a running note on my phone in which I can jot notes whenever I feel divine inspiration. I frequently get ideas while listening to a sermon, chatting in a conversation, or while hearing God’s word on a podcast. Since I practically always have my phone with me, the notes app is a perfect go-to place to gather these ideas.

By prioritizing quiet, contemplative prayer time, I feel close to God, even though I don’t always pray with the consistency that I’d like. Like everyone, my hectic schedule and constant disruptions get the best of me. Throughout my day I try to offer up my work and sufferings as prayer, and I pray for others when they pop into my mind. I struggle, though, to find significant blocks of time to sit silently and listen to God.

Every night before I fall asleep, I speak to God. I discovered that consistently I felt inspired and motivated each night. I realized that this was my contemplative prayer time. The house is quiet, everyone else is asleep, and I turn my thoughts to God. I first give thanks for my blessings, then ask for forgiveness for my shortcomings, and then I let my mind wander with the help of the Holy Spirit. Now I recognize that some of my best ideas are developed in those quiet moments.

When all else fails to combat your writer’s block, I recommend writing what you know. For me, I know writer’s block today. As I write, I pray that I can inspire another writer to continue on a mission from God to share his word with the world in that writer’s own unique way.

Maria Riley 2023

Our Lady of a Thousand Names

Our Lady of a Thousand Names

Mary is our mother, and May is her special month. But who is Mary, really?

Mary of Nazareth was officially declared “Theotokos,” mother of God, at the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D. This Greek-language title is still used in the Eastern Orthodox churches today. (1)

By the sixteenth century, popular devotion to the mother of Jesus in the Western church had multiplied into many titles. The traditional Litany of Loreto, approved by Pope Sixtus V in 1587, calls her mother, virgin, mirror, vessel, rose, tower, ark, house, gate, star, and queen. These vivid images are repeated, as diverse domains are placed into her care through one of only six litanies formally approved by the magisterium for public recitation. (2)

Those many queenships do not even to begin to exhaust her multitude of names.

All around the planet, there are shrines dedicated to Mary, often titled “Our Lady of …” with place names that have experienced church-approved apparitions and miracles, or with spiritual qualities like “peace, mercy, good hope.”

In their book, Marian Shrines of the United States: A Pilgrim’s Travel Guide, Theresa Santa Czarnopys and Thomas M. Santa, C.Ss.R. highlight more than fifty shrines dedicated to the Blessed Mother in the United States alone. (3)

With her parents, uncle, aunt, and husband Joseph, Mary was a historical human person. She is still remembered in Nazareth by contemporary villagers, whose ancestors have lived there continuously for thousands of years.

I heard one person say, sharing stories passed down in his family for generations, “We’re not sure it’s Joseph’s workshop, exactly. But all the carpenters worked right in this area, they always have, and so it probably looked a lot like this one.”

Those words were offered as a personal testimony when my group of pilgrims viewed an ancient builder’s studio in Nazareth that Israeli archeologists have managed to excavate with painstaking care. A similar tale was told about the ancient well where young Mary went to draw water.

Our faith considers the rosary a worthy meditation on the mysteries of Jesus’ human life; and also, about Mary’s life as his mother. Writings by a plethora of Saints who are formally recognized by the Roman Catholic Church often name the mother of Jesus as their guardian, guide, and friend.

At Our Lady of Lourdes, I was able to view a sign with Mary’s original words when she identified herself to St. Bernadette. By the letters engraved on that bronze plaque, she spoke in the local Pyrenees Mountain dialect, a combination of Spanish and French, probably the only language that Bernadette would have known. In 1858, when asked for her name, Mary said, “Yo soy Immaculata Conception.” “I am the Immaculate Conception.”

I was told, by an official guide there, that the poor young girl had no idea what those fancy words meant. But she memorized them. Only her parish priest, who had recently received the provincial distribution of papal bull Ineffabilis Deus from Pope Pius IX in Rome (4), was able to recognize the meaning of that particular message from Mary.

As Our Lady of Altötting, Germany Mary is said to have guided Joseph Ratzinger from birth to the papacy, through a childhood and young adulthood spent under the horrors of Germany’s Third Reich. His devotion to her has become legendary. Even now, when she temporarily resides in the parish church of St. Michael’s (pictured below) nearby while her ancient chapel is being restored, she carries in her scepter a custom-made sapphire ring. This ring was a gift to Fr. Ratzinger from his brother and sister, when he was appointed to be Archbishop of Munich. In 2006, after he was elected Pope Benedict XVI, Joseph returned to Altötting to give Mary his ring. (5)

 

Pope Benedict XVI had a great devotion to Our Lady of Altotting. It is said that she guided him throughout his life.

At the shrine of Our Lady of Knock in Ireland (pictured in banner), the shrine guide gave us this explanation about nineteenth century Marian apparitions there. (6)

“People always ask, ‘But what did Mary say?’ When we answer, ‘She was silent,’ everyone wonders how it could be, that Mary came among the garrulous Irish and didn’t say a word?

“Wherever she appears, Mary always asks for two things. She tells people to fast, and to pray. She didn’t ask us to fast because she knew we were already starving. She came with St. Joseph at her right, St. John on her left, with the angels and the Lamb on the altar, to show us that she had heard the constant prayers of her faithful Irish children.

“Everyone had lost so many members of their families to death from the Great Hunger, and then from the necessary emigration. The land had been decimated.

“We believe that Mary came just to hold us in her love, and to reassure us that there was a future. She came to bring us hope. She didn’t need to say anything. We all understood.”

© Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias, Ph.D.

Notes:

  1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theotokos
  2. https://www.ourcatholicprayers.com/litany-of-the-blessed-virgin-mary.html#:~:text=The%20Litany%20of%20The%20Blessed%20Virgin%20Mary%2C%20also%20known%20as,1587%20by%20Pope%20Sixtus%20V.
  3. Liguori Publications, Liguori, Missouri, 1998.
  4. https://www.papalencyclicals.net/pius09/p9ineff.htm
  5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrine_of_Our_Lady_of_Altötting
  6. https://www.knockshrine.ie/history/

Photo credits:

Featured photo: Our Lady of Knock Interior Chapel Sculptures Attributions

Page URL: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Apparition_Chapel_with_Stained_Window.jpg

File URL: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8a/Apparition_Chapel_with_Stained_Window.jpg

Attributions: KnockShrine, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Inset Photo: Image of Our Lady of Altotting

Page URL: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gnadenbild,_Gnadenkapelle_Alt%C3%B6tting.jpeg

File URL: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/ed/Gnadenbild%2C_Gnadenkapelle_Alt%C3%B6tting.jpeg

Attribution: Finner: Siddhartha Finner, Dipl.Ing.-Architektur, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Licensure: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

 

We ALL Teach, So Be Careful of What and How!

We ALL Teach, So Be Careful of What and How!

Many years ago, I taught at a local Catholic elementary and high school. It was my first professional teaching job, and I was excited to pass along the knowledge I’d garnered over my years in college. As a Catholic school music teacher, I taught science, math, English, history… and sometimes music. I had one student in my history class who was NOT going to pass and, furthermore, didn’t care. When I approached him with this information, he kept saying, “I don’t care! I’m going into my family’s business. I don’t care if I pass or not.”

Exasperated, I asked, “What’s your ‘family’s’ business?’” Imagine my surprise when the young man told me his family’s business was something VERY illegal!

My teaching training kicked in, and I said, “Well, even in your dad’s business, history plays a large part! He needs to research, plan, and know the history of the situation he will be walking into.” The student gave me a wary look, smirked, and walked away.

At a parents’ evening at school, the student’s father asked to see me alone. Needless to say, I was nervous. I suddenly wished I’d become a banker instead of a teacher. Soon a mountain of a man ambled into my classroom scowling, “I’m [so-and-so’s] pappa.” I swallowed hard and stuck out my hand for him to shake. In an instant, he had his bear-paw-sized hands and arms around me—giving me a hug and beginning to sob.

All I could do was stand there and say, “It’s okay, it’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll be alright…”

After the man composed himself, he told me his son had told him about our exchange. He was shocked into reality. He said, “I had no idea he even knew what I did for a living, let alone planned on going into it.” The father had been preaching one thing to his son, “Be a good boy. Always do the right thing. Listen to your elders…” Meanwhile, his actions were teaching him to do something different.

For the sixth Sunday of Easter, we’ll hear of Phillip converting an entire community, then James and Peter coming to “confirm” what Phillip had done and laying hands on them to confer the Holy Spirit to them, making sure the people honestly knew who the Christ was. Then we hear Peter telling us we need to embrace holiness and be able to explain why we believe what we believe. And furthermore, we need to “show-and-tell” in a way that is not confrontational. Finally, we have Jesus telling us that IF we fully integrate what he taught into our lives, he will send the Holy Spirit to fill us and help us in every decision.

What we teach matters, but so does how.

If you were wondering what happened to the student, I am very happy to report he went on to business school and owns a local business that is considered a jewel of the community.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

The Poetry and Praise of Nature

The Poetry and Praise of Nature

Here we are in the middle of Eastertide. One of the things I have always loved about the Easter season is that it seems as though all of nature is celebrating the Resurrection of Christ along with us.  In my part of the world, Central Texas, this is the time for our annual display of wildflowers, a riot of colors that starts with deep blue bluebonnets, paired with light pink evening primroses that eventually fade into red, yellow and brown sunflowers as the weeks progress and the temperature warms up.

I was on a morning walk last week and stopped to take a photo of a patch of wildflowers. I was happy to see that there were others who were also pleased to see the wildflowers. Darting in and out of the blooms were butterflies and bees, and overhead birds were busy building nests while squirrels waved their bushy tails at me, peering from behind branches, daring me to notice them. The scene reminded me of a passage from one of my favorite children’s books, The Alligator and his Uncle Tooth, by Geoffrey Hayes.  This book tells the tale of a small alligator, named Corduroy, who loved to wander through the hills surrounding his home. He especially loved to meander through the pine forest, always “standing strong and silent through every season. When the trees were hung with snow or covered by fog or moved by wind, Corduroy watched them, and it was like seeing poetry.”

Later in the story Corduroy goes to live with his Auntie Hick, who runs a small stationery shop in a village by the seaside. The little alligator is overwhelmed at his first glimpse of the mighty sea.

“The sea roared as it swept onto the beach, sending up showers of salty mist that tingled Corduroy’s nose. He breathed in the ocean smell. How untamed it was! How alive!

“As he sat there watching it, the sea foam rolling on the waves looked like delicate clouds; and the clouds in the sky looked like flower blossoms; and the sky moved like a song. ‘Poetry!’ thought Corduroy.”

Ah, poetry. That literary form with the ability to teach, communicate and elevate through images and a minimum of syllables, to strip away the familiar and help us see it once again with fresh, new eyes. As I stood in the wildflower patch that morning, watching all the pollinators busy at their work, I felt as though I were watching a living embodiment of poetry, just like Corduroy.

Feeling the warm sun, knowing winter was finally slipping away for another year, I felt the promise of Easter joy rising again; the newness, the light, the victory, the hope. I thought “Someone should write something.” Then I thought “I bet someone already has.”

Upon returning home I opened my Bible and went to the Psalms, that book of precious poetry. Sure enough, I found Psalm 8:

O Lord, our Sovereign,

How majestic is your name in all the earth.

You have set your glory above the heavens.

Out of the mouths of babes and infants

You have founded a bulwark because of your foes,

To silence the enemy and the avenger.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,

The moon and the stars that you have established;

What are human beings that you are mindful of them,

Mortals that you care for them?

Yet you have made them a little lower than God,

And crowned them with glory and honor.

You have given them dominion over the works of your hands;

You have put all things under their feet,

All sheep and oxen

And also the beasts of the field,

The birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,

Whatever passes along the paths of the sea.

O Lord, our Sovereign,

How majestic is your name in all the earth!

(NRSV Bible, Psalm 8)

 It is such a tremendous truth that all of nature worships God, just by doing what it was created to do. From the orange winged monarch butterfly to the mighty oak tree to the towering, silent mountains, all of creation offers its praise. May you, too, find yourself amid ample opportunities of living praise – and poetry – this Easter season!

© Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

Featured photo Eastertide Wildflower Field © Copyright 2023 by Sarah Pedrozo

Spring and the Stubborn Cardinal

Spring and The Stubborn Cardinal

Spring has arrived in my neck of the woods, and with it comes the hustle and bustle of God’s fantastic flying creatures around the flowers in bloom. This time of the year, I try to take every opportunity to visit outdoor places of interest. Recently, my husband and I walked the grounds of Our Lady of Lourdes Shrine, taking in all that nature had to offer. Scattered across the walking paths were sticks and small branches which had fallen in storms earlier that week. However, the beauty of the outdoor chapel, statues, and illumined candles surrounding the altar remained. Off in the distance was the whistling call of a cardinal announcing its presence, bringing happiness to my heart. 

As we approached a building that housed a gift shop, the little red cardinal made its existence known, flying from its edge to a nearby tree. It wasn’t until we were inside the shop that we became aware of the cardinal’s intent. We listened to the shopkeeper’s story explaining that the cardinal was either confused or stubborn. 

A sister of the Most Holy Trinity told us the cardinal had been visiting for many months. Daily attempts were made at flying directly into the shop window. These occurred so often that decals were affixed to the window to deter the bird from attempting to enter. It is common for a bird to see its reflection in a window, provoking it to go after what it thinks it sees—ultimately resulting in either an injured bird or complete surrender to the situation.  

In this case, it appears the Shrine has a stubborn cardinal on its hands, and it prompted some thoughts as my husband and I recalled the activity of the bird that afternoon. Could it be that the bird was refusing to leave? What was it looking for? Had it lost a mate? Did the bird know it wasn’t getting anywhere by continuing its current behavior? 

I am not alone when I share that there have been countless times when God has called me toward something, and I have run the other way. Or instances when I continued to go “my way” only to hit the same roadblock repeatedly, never realizing that the road I was trying to travel was not God’s plan. Like the cardinal at the gift shop, we spend too much time looking for something that isn’t there instead of listening to God’s voice as our guide. 

Our moment of surrendering to the situation comes when we realize that our plan may not necessarily be God’s will. Like the bird flying into a window repeatedly, we are injuring ourselves when we repeat a pattern that has us, in essence, stuck. The decals in our lives that help us to see come in many forms—spiritual guides, faithful friends, parents, siblings, a spouse, and our children. Let’s not discount the stranger or good Samaritan who will help us to visualize what is ahead through teachable moments. 

We can only hope that the cardinal visiting the sisters at the Shrine stops long enough for God to provide enlightenment or perhaps send another bird to provoke a different activity. You and I both know that if it continues on the path it is now, the bird will eventually suffer hurt beyond repair.  The same is true for you and me. If we continue on the wrong track and fight the direction of God, our circumstances may result in a chaotic life.

The cardinal has as many choices as you and I. We can continue flying into the window, never getting anywhere, or set our sights on a path for God to light and guide us. Discernment becomes clear through consistent prayer and prayerful conversations with a spiritual director or parish Priest. Take advantage of the freshness and new beginning spring offers, open the windows of your heart, and fly. 



Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images Copyright Canva

Hope and Resilience

Hope and Resilience

Only Divine Providence could have woven such a tale. I can just offer you a sketchy map, and a few further clues. But we’re all a part of it. You’ll find your way.

This story opens in the mid-1800’s, with an English nobleman who collected American tree specimens to forest his Irish estate across the Atlantic Ocean. It encounters White Russians fleeing persecution following the communist revolution in 1917. It continues into the 1920’s, with an ambitious Irish diplomatic attaché in Paris; and a devastating family tragedy in Ireland.

Our tale emerged again in a small Swiss town in 1957, when a Protestant housewife received an indelible message in prayer from an Eastern Orthodox Catholic Saint.

But perhaps the most interesting plot twist occurred in the late 1940’s or early 1950’s, when a group of Irish schoolboys discovered dusty 15th-century religious icons while searching for treasure in a 19th-century reproduction-Gothic castle.

For me, it began on a recent March morning when a massive herd of glossy cattle crossed the road in front of our tour bus for more than fifteen minutes on their way to pasture. These cows dwell at Glenstal Abbey near Murroe, County Limerick, in the ancient Munster region of Ireland. (1)

Assisted by their dedicated local lay-oblate community, the Benedictine monks at Glenstal administer a substantial farm; a nationally-accredited Roman Catholic boarding school; and a conference center that offers retreats, spiritual consultations, and pilgrimages to individuals and groups of different faiths from around the world. A major inspiration for many pilgrimages to Glenstal Abbey is its unique collection of rare Eastern Orthodox prayer icons. These icons are displayed in a custom-built underground chapel beneath the main church.

In the Eastern Orthodox faith tradition, iconography is regarded as a particular kind of worship and a specific religious vocation. Although drawing and painting are involved, icons are always referred to as “written,” not made. The most important stages in their writing are the trained religious artists’ disciplines, fasting and prayer. Orthodox believers do not “look at” their icons; they present themselves before them, so that the saints can communicate with human beings on earth through the windows of their eyes.

The White Russians eventually found their way to Paris, France. Many families at that time were trapped in an economic depression that gripped continental Europe as well as North America. Too often, they were forced to part with their most precious possessions in order to support their families. For the Russian émigrés, that meant selling their family icons.

It seems that a diplomatic attaché for the Irish government, stationed in Paris, was happy to assist with the disposition of religious art works. The monks at Glenstal Abbey believe that this is how their Russian Orthodox icons were transferred to Roman Catholic Ireland.

At some point the icons landed at the castle forested with North American trees, once owned by the Barrington family. When their daughter was killed by Irish freedom fighters in 1921, the family returned to England. A local priest, Monsignor James Ryan, purchased Glenstal Castle in 1926 and donated it to the Benedictine Order, to found an abbey and school in the Archdiocese of Cashel. Glenstal Priory was inaugurated in January of 1928; the abbey boys’ school was established four years later in 1932. (2)

But following the turmoil of World War II, by the early 1950’s the Orthodox icons’ presence at Glenstal Abbey had been almost forgotten. Inquisitive schoolboys, digging through nooks and crannies, apparently came upon them stored somewhere in the castle. The Russian Orthodox saints traveled across a Roman Catholic campus in children’s hands, to decorate dorm room walls or to lie hidden under beds as secret prayer talismans.

Back on the continent, in 1957 the small-town wife of a Reformed Church pastor began to see saints and angels, including Mother Mary, beckoning to her from Roman Catholic churches in central Switzerland. Eventually, Joa Bolendas entered these churches to pray.

According to one of Bolendas’ accounts, St. Nicholas appeared to her and said, “This is the testimony of an early Saint of the Russian Orthodox Church.” In their encounters, St. Nicholas showed her images of icons that he said were “missing.” He told her that these icons were important for the future of the world and must be found. St. Nicholas thought that the icons he sought were somewhere in Ireland.

Bolendas’ nephew by marriage, John Hill, a graduate of Glenstal Abbey School, was in residence at that time in the C. G. Jung Institute of Zurich. Acting as a family member and not in his professional capacity, John began to accompany his wife’s aunt to church. He observed her in ecstatic prayer (3).

Joa Bolendas was described by all who knew her as “a strong woman,” and “a thoroughly practical person.” John himself watched her come out of prayer visions and briskly proceed to a nearby shop. There she would haggle with the butcher for his best cut of meat at the lowest price, to cook for her family’s dinner. John Hill deemed her fully grounded in reality.

He had a vague recollection of “those icons we used to play with at Glenstal as boys.” The matter seemed worthy of investigation. John called his old friend Mark Patrick Hederman, a monk, writer, teacher and administrator for the same abbey school where they both grew up.

In 1976, John and his wife Anne-Marie, with a photographer selected by Joa Bolendas, traveled back to Glenstal Abbey to examine whatever icons they might be able to find there.

Photographs of the icons they located in a thorough search of abbey and school were shown to Joa after they returned to Switzerland. She confirmed them as the same images St. Nicholas had revealed to her in visions. The saint then requested through Joa that the Benedictine brothers at Glenstal “build a chapel at their abbey to preserve them.”

All of the saints and angels who spoke with Joa over many years conveyed the same essential message. Whether explicitly or implicitly, the thrust of these revelations was always the importance of unity among mankind. If the chapel was built at Glenstal, St. Nicholas told her, “Unity will follow for Germany and Ireland.”

When Brother Patrick first presented a multi-million-dollar bid he’d received from a local contractor, the proposal to build a free-standing icon chapel on the abbey grounds was firmly rejected by the Glenstal monastic community.

Over time, however, the Benedictine brothers eventually developed a consensus. If Brother Patrick could find a way to build this chapel in the unused dirt cellar under the abbey church, they might be willing to help support it.

A third Glenstal Abbey School classmate, Jeremy Williams, had grown up to become one of Ireland’s leading architects. Patrick called Jeremy to the abbey for a consult. The aesthetic they both envisioned was a smaller version of the chapel at St. Sophia Church in Istanbul.

Their design was ultimately built in Glenstal Abbey’s church cellar to house the Russian icons, as well as an equally-precious donated collection of Greek Orthodox icons.

Their cement contractor in Cologne, Germany, who ground real stone for use in the colored-concrete chapel floor, provided the abbey with hefty discounts. In return the monastic community granted permission for the contractor to use an image of the finished chapel in promotional materials.

Before construction even began, while the abbey team was still examining the underground structure, a man no one had ever seen before walked in.

He said, “I know what you’re doing here! I know how to do it! No one else must touch it!”

With the monks’ permission, he spent the night alone, “inside the black box,” for inspiration. That ‘stranger’ turned out to be a local man, the brilliant and idiosyncratic Irish artist James Scanlon, who created luminous stained-glass medallions to anchor and illuminate a portion of the chapel ceiling vault.

Even the cows offered up their own fair share of the chapel costs, in cream and butter. Dairy sales from the farm help to support all of the spiritual and educational programs offered at Glenstal Abbey.

The finished icon chapel opened on April 10, 1988, with ancient musical tones and choral chants. These were researched as well as performed by Irish composer Michael O’Sullivan, with Rev. Nóirín Ní Riain, Ph.D. as liturgical cantor. (4)

Just nineteen months later, on November 9, 1989, the Berlin wall that had divided Germany for more than five decades fell to the ground. On 10 April, 1998, the tenth anniversary of the chapel’s consecration, Good Friday Agreements brought peace to Northern Ireland, putting an end to physical interreligious violence there.

This evidence is anecdotal, of course. Private devotions are treated as optional, not obligatory, in our Roman Catholic church. Still, the discerning monks of Glenstal Abbey visit their icon chapel every day, at the same time, to pray for healing in our world. This devotion is performed in addition to their traditional Benedictine charism, ora et labora, a daily rhythm of work and prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours.

If nothing else, the length and breadth of this history illustrate that dark times of many different kinds have always besieged humanity. The haunting eyes of early saints in the Glenstal Abbey chapel continue to regard contemporary pilgrims with eternal compassion.

Glenstal Abbey will celebrate the icon chapel’s 35th anniversary on April 10, 2023.

Should you, yourself, feel called to reflect on how a group of 1950’s Irish schoolboys ‘just happened’ to be in the right places, at the right times, prepared with the exact adult skills to provide every resource required to incarnate this chapel … Please join in prayers for unity and peace on Easter Monday.

 “Drive away the darkness that surrounds us,

Shed onto us the mantle of your light.

Help us to know your will,

And give us the courage to do it.” (5)

 Amen.

Original Russian Icon “The Healing Christ” in the Glenstal Abbey Icon Chapel Photo by Margaret Zacharias, taken with permission from Don Mark Patrick Hederman

 

Featured Image: Collection of Original Eastern Orthodox Icons in the Glenstal Abbey Chapel Photo by Margaret Zacharias, taken with permission from Don Mark Patrick Hederman The “Angel of Silence” can be seen at lower right.

Notes:

  1. https://glenstal.com/abbey/
  2. A more detailed history of Glenstal Abbey, and exposition about the educational philosophy of the secondary-level boy’s school, may be found in former Headmaster Mark Patrick Hederman’s book:

 The Boy in the Bubble: Education as Personal Relationship

 https://www.amazon.com/Boy-Bubble-Education-Personal-Relationship/dp/1847304052/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1680133263&sr=8-1

  1. The full story of Joa Bolendas’ visionary prayer experiences may be found in her books:

So That You May Be One

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Joa+Bolendas+That+You+Be+One&crid=1RFFTDTLMZBLJ&sprefix=joa+bolendas+that+you+be+one%2Caps%2C155&ref=nb_sb_noss

Alive in God’s World

https://www.amazon.com/Alive-Gods-World-Described-Bolendas/dp/097010975X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=Q8W6BZWU4KAG&keywords=Joa+Bolendas+Alive+In+God%27s+World&qid=1679641031&sprefix=joa+bolendas+alive+in+god%27s+world%2Caps%2C144&sr=8-1.

  1. Recordings of the early Christian music that accompanied the consecration of Glenstal Abbey’s icon chapel may be found here:

 Vox De Nube

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09S3F6YQ1/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3RR326YJQLC6A&keywords=vox+di+nube&qid=1679728636&sprefix=vox+de+nube%2Caps%2C142&sr=8-2

  1. One prayer given in a dream to Don Mark Patrick Hederman, now Abbot emeritus of Glenstal Abbey.

This article was prepared with help and permission from Don Mark Patrick Hederman and John Hill.

Any errors of fact or interpretation are the sole responsibility of the author. 

© Copyright 2023 by Margaret King Zacharias, Ph.D.

 

Journey ad Amorem

Journey ad Amorem

We’re all here to learn how to love. Life is a school of love. The things that happen to you in life are meant to help you learn how to love. The people who cross your path in life are meant to help you learn how to love, and you’re meant to help them learn how to love, too.

We’re all on a journey back to God, a journey ad Deum. It’s just that some of us don’t realize that yet, or have forgotten it, or else don’t want to believe it. But we are. We all came from God, and we’re all intended to return to God. Only in God will we find the ultimate happiness, freedom, purpose, and peace that we so desperately desire.

The little three-word phrase “God is love” (1 John 4:16) is the most profound statement ever uttered by a human being. For some people, however, the phrase “God is love” has become so familiar as to have become almost trite. They may acknowledge that it is true in the abstract, but it is not a truth that they allow to impact their daily lives in any significant way: “‘God is love’ sounds nice, but it doesn’t pay the bills”—this seems to be the attitude of some people. Other people reject the claim that “God is love” entirely.

Many of us need to consider (or reconsider) the profound meaning and implications of the claim that “God is love.” This little phrase not only claims that God exists; it also makes a startling claim about what God is. The claim is not just that God has love, but rather that God is love. Love is what God is. God’s essence, the core of who and what God is, is love. Not thought, or power, or freedom, or knowledge, or any of the other things that we human beings might have expected or predicted to be the essence of God, but love.

But “God is love” is not just a statement about God. It’s also a statement about the nature of existence, the nature of life itself. God is not just one more being among many. God is not some “super-being” with superhuman powers. Some atheists seem to derive pleasure from attacking such images of God, but that’s not the God in whom we Christians believe. No, God is not just one more being among many; God is Being itself (Exodus 3:14; John 8:58). God is the Mind behind all that exists, the Mind that gave rise to all that exists and that sustains everything in existence from moment to moment, the Source and Ground of all that exists, the uncaused Cause of all that exists. So if God is Being itself, and the essence of God is love, then the essence of Being itself is love. Love is what Being is, so love is what being is meant to be. To love is to be, and to love more fully is to be more fully. The more fully we join in the dynamic of love, the more fully we share in Being, and the more fully alive we are.

Some of the ancients described human life as a process of exitus and reditus: a going out from God when we are born into this life so that we might then freely choose whether or not we want to return to God forever. Our life is intended to be a journey back to God, a journey back to Love. We were born for love. We were made from and for love. We were created to dwell forever in the divine Love, but whether we end up there or not depends on whether we accept God’s offer of a share in the divine life.

Life is a beautiful and profound and mysterious drama in which our ultimate destiny, our eternal destiny, hinges on our choice of whether to say Yes or No to Love and to love. The stakes couldn’t be higher. So why does God leave the choice up to us? Again, it’s because love, to be genuine, has to be both freely offered and freely accepted. God doesn’t work by force, but rather by persuasion. God freely offers us the gift of a share in the divine life and love, but it’s up to each of us to choose whether to accept the gift or not. We’re all enrolled in the school of love, but it’s up to each of us whether we make the most of the opportunity or choose to drop out.

* This article is an excerpt from Rick’s recently released book, The Book of Love: Brief Meditations. https://enroutebooksandmedia.com/thebookoflove/

Rick Clements, 2023

(Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash)

May I Have This Dance?

May I Have This Dance?

I recently spent the day waiting for a family member undergoing a medical procedure. As we hunkered down in the lobby, a gentleman played the piano, filling the open atrium with melodies. We enjoyed reminiscing on some songs from the past, and I noticed how those conversations put our worried minds at ease. A hospital employee arrived at our table asking if we liked the piano music and if we would dance.

How lovely it was to see her go from table to table, bringing smiles to worried families looking for anything to occupy their minds while they waited. I never saw anyone accept the dance offer in the hours we spent in that space. However, moods were lifted, achieving the ultimate goal. I thought how wonderful it was for the hospital to provide this type of service and how nice of the employee to present it so joyfully. Little niceties like this are heaven-sent moments where God joins us in the dance.

Over the last several years, music therapy has become a staple in healthcare, and I am a big fan. Not long ago, I spent time with my uncle, who had suffered a stroke. Uncle Boo, I called him, had been a wedding singer for many years, and music meant the world to him.  When the nurses on his floor learned of his passion, they quickly ordered music therapy at his bedside. I was blessed to have been visiting him on a day when the therapist arrived. The stroke left his voice weak, but that did not slow him down.

Singing his favorite songs with the therapist brought tears, laughter, and an unforgettable smile to his face. The connection the therapist made with my uncle was like watching two old friends dancing cheek-to-cheek. Setting aside my emotions, I managed to record a voice memo on my phone as my uncle softly sang the lyrics, “All my lovin’, I will send to you,” and “Don’t you look back.” I relish the gift God gave me that day—an opportunity to play the recordings back, close my eyes, and dance.  Reflecting on that memory today, I realize how blessed I was to have chosen that particular moment to pop in for a visit, not to mention that this was God filling His dance card.

In both instances, music was a gift presented by God through a person who was trained and highly qualified, not to mention motivated to share their gift. That does not mean that only trained professionals can present gifts of this sort. For instance, before we were married, my husband asked me to dance in the middle of a candle store. It ultimately led to a dance with the same song on our wedding day—when God filled his and my dance cards. 

It makes me wonder how many other events, not only in my life but for everyone, are times when God asks us to dance. More obvious moments might be when the trees sway in a soft breeze inviting us to swing side to side as we watch the leaves dance. Or, perhaps, the joy on a child’s face as they ride on the playground. 

I can go on and on with different scenarios, and I’m sure there are many you can think of, also. God is with us in all things, big, small, medium, and large, especially in the twinkling of a dance. Embrace these joy-filled moments of glee and savor them with prayers of gratitude, a note in your journal, or sharing with a friend. My prayer for you, the reader, is that you tune into the little niceties as gifts from God. Consider them precious moments when God shows up with His dance card.  Like a little girl with her daddy, learning to dance, except this time, God is leading the steps. 


Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images Copyright Canva