"They" can be anyone we choose to see in opposition to ourselves. And as soon as I draw a line of demarcation with "them" on one side and "us" on the other, the opportunity to call ourselves brothers and sisters has slipped away.
In Horizons, younger sisters reflect on their lives, ministries, spirituality and the future of religious life.
Horizons - On a recent trip for a friend's first vow ceremony, we sat around the night before in a mixed group of sisters and friends talking about the vows. I teased now-vowed Presentation Sr. Mary Therese "MT" Krueger with the question, "What's your favorite vow?" and it soon became obvious that some around the table were unclear what these mysterious vows were all about.
The transformative process of bread-making is a story of death (the killing of wheat at harvest), rebirth (the yeast within the dough), death again (in the oven) and new life (when bread nourishes the human body). How is the death-to-life process part of our community life?
Maybe the aching melody awoke something within me, some bone-deep gratitude and inexplicable love for ancestors I've never known. Certainly, I felt surrounded by them, my grandmothers and grandfathers in both genealogy and faith.
Cancer had not been in Sr. Marie Flowers' plan, but she accepted it with grace. "God must have a different plan for me. It's a new plan — an adventure. I love adventure!" She never lost the sense of the expansive possibility found in God.
Sometimes the things that control us the most are the things about which we are the least conscious. I'm haunted by the idea that we all may blindly, unknowingly sacrifice our freedoms.
Prayer is getting a bit of a bum rap these days, at least when it is tagged on to the end of the platitude most often employed in the face of senseless disaster and heart wrenching tragedy — "thoughts and prayers."
Horizons - During Hurricane Harvey, my hometown experienced flooding like never before. My dad's neighborhood was under water.
Horizons - In ministry, I walk with many beloved migrants, but I'm never quite sure how to characterize what I "do." The pope's words and a new campaign give me insight: I share the journey. In doing so, I have seen the face of Christ.
We arrive at the memorial already soaked. The rain has been pouring down for about an hour, making our one little umbrella woefully insufficient for our entire group. We huddle in the cab, unwilling to take that first step out into the dark, wet city. We are five Catholic sisters from different corners of the United States, and we are to become a holy trinity of sisterhood marking this spot sacred with our feet.
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