Inspired by Scholastica

Cacophonous cries pierce the air as thousands of white-winged geese descend upon the marsh, packed together like sardines, latecomers shoving others for position, nestling close, feet paddling. Then as if by signal, they begin to lift off again, their black-tipped wings rotating like tiny propellers whirring and splattering across a dusty pink sky. Soon they splotch the rippling water with feathery tufts again, dozing in the sun before they continue their spiral dance, weaving back and forth, dipping and gliding in zigzag patterns above the glassy lake.

My naive image of prostitutes was women who sold their bodies for sex to make money. I knew there were pimps who organized rings and forced the women to hand over the money they made. But I had little idea of how prevalent or abusive the sex trade was. In the Feb. 13, 2015 issue of Newsweek , an article entitled "Sex Slaves on the Farm" opened my eyes to the horrors thousands of women endure out of fear or coercion. Isolated undocumented migrants on America's farms take advantage of prostitutes supplied by supervisors. The women are forced to supply sex all hours of the day and night. They experience shocking violence at the hands of their buyers who engage in excessive drinking and substance abuse. With no money and no legal help, the women are truly indentured slaves. Within the last few years, Homeland Security Investigations  and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement have uncovered numerous crime rings and have gotten offenders prosecuted and sent to prison.

Many years ago when I lived in Kansas City with another sister, we decided to start a prayer group in our home. We advertised it in the parish bulletin and the first night a middle-aged African American woman came and the first thing she asked us was, "Are you filled with the Holy Spirit?" The other sister and I looked at each other and mumbled, "We hope so." We had never thought about that question. But we later realized that she was really asking, "Are you authentic Christians who really are what you say you are?" That's what Lent calls us to be -- authentic, real. Some of us slip and slide in living out our beliefs. We want to be faithful, to turn away from sin, but the path is slippery and our human weakness gets in the way. During this time of silence and reflection we renew our commitment to prayer, fasting and almsgiving so that the Holy Spirit will live in us more fully. SisterVerna Holyhead reminds us that ashes are fertile and protective  &qu

Awakening “Is it time yet?” The worms asked. “Not quite,” the turtle said. “You have to feel the cold ground soften before you burrow through. You have to see some roots growing and moisture seeping down.” “It’s getting late,” the snails sniffed. “Watch the crocuses,” the turtle said. “They peek out first with their sturdy blades. Sometimes they get buried with snow but they spring  back up, their gossamer petals unfold in violet and saffron pleats. Then the earth awakens and you can crawl and wiggle again.” The worms and snails sighed in relief.

Abbot Notker Wolf and me Abbot Primate Notker Wolf defies the sterotype of the hierarchy in the Catholic Church. Although he oversees 6,800 Benedictine monks and 14,800 Benedictine women, he is unassuming, simple, and approachable. Still tired from a week-long meeting with abbots and prioresses, he graciously answered questions from reporters and TV cameramen, and visited with the sisters at Mount St. Scholastica monastery in Atchison after a Eucharist celebrating the feast of St. Scholastica on Feb. 10. The same evening he gave a lecture at Benedictine College and played the flute. He also plays the electric guitar with a Christian rock group in between traveling around the world and writing books. He has been re-elected  Abbot Primate twice and his favorite part of the job is meeting people. He speaks six languages and tries to learn to greet people in several others. He never seems to be at a loss for words and enjoys a good joke and surprise. After mentioning fresh roses as a

Archbishop Oscar Romero Pope Francis recently declared Oscar Romero a martyr, soon to be beatified. The Salvadoran people and many others already honor him as a saint. On March 24, 1980, he was gunned down while offering Mass in the chapel of the hospital where he lived. The previous Sunday he had asked the soldiers to lay down their arms and stop the killing of innocent people during the civil war in the 1970's and 1980's. While on a mission trip to El Salvador in the 1990's, I saw the place where he died and his small room. I also saw the garden where the six Jesuits and their housekeeper and daughter were murdered by the Salvadoran military. They are all martyrs who died for defying the slaughter of thousands of Salvadoran people.Today as we hear of beheadings and torture by ISIS and Al Qaeda, we know that civilians continue to be killed in the name of Allah. President Obama recently reminded us that Christians in the past put non-believers to death, especially

A Winter Scene Winter dresses the hillsides and roads in white studded with shimmering crystals; bare trees bristle as brash winds swirl across the land. Death has swept the gardens clear of color and greenery with only a bleak stalk poking up here and there through the blanket of snow. An old cat scurries across the porch, its fur quivering in the stormy blast. All is still – then a scraping sound pierces the darkness as a snow plow tunnels the roads, clearing a path for travelers laden with scarves, ear muffs, mittens, woolen caps and wraps. Their breaths blow smoke signals in the air as they step gingerly into a frozen world.

Reflections on "Selma" The movie "Selma" wrenched my soul when I saw the cruelty and hatred many whites in Alabama showed toward the black people who marched to gain voting rights in the early 1960's. Although the marchers practiced non-violence, the white officials either did nothing to protect them or directly opposed them with clubs, guns, and tail pipes. I was a young sister in my 20's at the time and although I heard about the marches, I was not really socially aware. I probably would have been reluctant to march even if our sisters had been encouraged to participate. I admire the sisters who did, but it seemed too dangerous and scary to me at the time. The courage of those marchers was inspiring and I hope black people and whites today appreciate their sacrifices. We still have problems like those in Ferguson and New York City, but we need to believe that non-violent protests work if we are united and unflinching in our efforts to demand justice for

After more than 50 years of living the monastic life I have acquired a few attitudes about life and hopefully a bit of wisdom.  Many of my viewpoints come from the Rule of St. Benedict who based his precepts on Scripture. The Rule contains teachings on silence, humility, good zeal, prayer, simplicity, good works, and other aids to holiness. St. Benedict established a "school for the Lord's service" so we who live in monasteries are continually learning how to be better people. In addition to Benedictine monastics, many lay people find this Rule helpful in living a good Christian life in the world. I believe that most people are trying to do the right thing, but because of family background, lack of opportunity, or poor choices, some fail to grow and become their best selves. But God continues to love us and give us more chances to begin anew each day. Sometimes we need other people to help us continue the struggle, sometimes we can help others to keep going. W