Inspired by Scholastica

When Sister Thea Bowman, a Black sister, addressed the United States Catholic bishops in 1989, she began by singing several lines from an African-American spiritual: “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child/A long way from home.” She told the bishops that, as a Black woman and a Catholic, she brought her whole history, her traditions, her culture, her African-American experience, her whole being as a gift to the church. Her spirituality was “contemplative and biblical and holistic,” a spirituality . . . “that steps out in faith, that leans on the Lord, a spirituality that is communal.” Although she must have felt like her vision and contribution were not valued by the Church, she gave her gifts generously and wholeheartedly. The bishops listened and were charmed by her enthusiasm. At the end, she had them singing and swaying with African-American music. It must have been quite a sight to see these bishops, with their croziers and crimson-trimmed robes, clapping and singing along with

  When I was growing up, I never heard anyone talk about climate change. My mother never wasted water or food, and we reused paper bags, newspapers and just about everything. But, it was based on frugality, rather than awareness of the fragility of the earth’s resources. When I became aware of the global crisis and what it means for the future of our planet, I started to recycle everything and be more concerned about the future of our environment. So, I was very interested in the recent COP27 meeting in Egypt, where over 100 nations gathered to make decisions regarding the urgency of taking action globally. Although they did not make much progress on greenhouse gas pollution solutions, they did agree to a proposal to provide private money to poorer countries to develop clean energy action plans. This is certainly progress. Wealthier nations agreed to provide private funds to developing countries that have been devastated by flooding, aridity, pollution, and other destructive condit

Medical personnel tell us Covid is not over and could come back. We pray that all will be safe in the months ahead.  As I look back over two years of the pandemic, I am grateful. In our monastery, we had a few sisters who were infected with the virus, but they escaped serious symptoms. They were isolated right away, so as not to spread the disease. I'm sure it was not easy for them, but they understood the importance of keeping the virus under control. The rest of us carried on, wearing masks when required. We were restricted from going out to eat or shop or travel when the Covid count was high in town, but that was not too often.  We were spared deaths that other groups experienced. Older people were most affected, but our sisters seemed to be of very sturdy stock. We all got the first and second shots and booster shots, which I'm sure was a great deterrent to the disease.  Those teaching in schools had a much harder time. Many schools switched to virtual classes for long peri

I came across a book about Thomas Merton's way of prayer the other day.  Editor Kathleen Deignan shows how Merton made contemplative prayer accessible to the ordinary person by revealing how to use the different hours of the day to become quiet, to become conscious of God's presence, and to pray with an abandon to the Spirit within. The small book, called A Book of Hours , is divided into the four times of the day-- dawn, midday, dusk and night, with psalms, readings, prayers, intercessions and periods of silence. Deignan has gleaned the best of Merton's writings to appeal to the ordinary Christian. The book reads like poetry and allows for the reader's own reflections and thoughts. It often feels as if Merton is directly talking to us like a spiritual director. One example of the book's poetry is this collect: I send Love's name into the world with wings And songs grow up around me like a jungle. Choirs of all creatures send the tunes your spirit played in Eden