The Sisters Of the Visitation of Tyringham

Live + Jesus

FEARLESS IN THE NEARNESS OF GOD

by Sr. Bernadette Therese

June 2008

Printer safe version

Dear Friends of the Heart of Christ

If you were raised as a Catholic, chances are the lives of the saints had a hand in your formation. It was the saints who initiated ideas about the great love of God, penance, mortification, generosity, and love to me, often in a very colorful manner. I remember learning about St. Rose of Lima who, when she was a little girl, would put a small rock or a pebble in her shoe on purpose so she could suffer for Jesus, have something to "offer up". This seemed like something within my grasp, so I tried to do this on and off the year I was in seventh grade. I was never able to stand it very long (pun intended), but it was an interesting experience at any rate, and I was learning, although I didn't realize it at the time, valuable lessons.

Already I was learning that I didn't need to look for, much less, create ways to suffer. No, God Himself will provide the sacrifice (said Abraham to Isaac).
Even into the lives of children, a little rain must fall. My rain was so soft and gentle, it would more rightly be called mists for I was supported and cushioned in a pillow of love from my family.

When I was a little girl, I was bothered quite often with ear and kidney infections. There were some hospitalizations, but more frequently, staying home from school with fevers. My Mom had many children to look after and much laundry and housework to tend to. I would pass the time in my bed reading, playing with snowglobes and paper dolls. Mom did not spend endless time at my bedside. But, I could hear her working. To this day, the sound of a washing machine running is a comforting sound. Hearing the washer told me Mom was nearby and could and would come if I called. I didn't call too often. It was enough to know she was around. Sometimes, the house grew silent and I knew she was outside hanging the laundry on the line, or perhaps in the garden, or maybe just resting herself on the couch Still, I didn't worry - she was near. I couldn't see her, and sometimes, I couldn't hear her, but I knew she was there for me. Periodically, she would pop in to check on me, take my temperature, bring me a popsicle, or read a story to me. Once in awhile, we would play a game. Anything she did was just right to me. All was a delight and all was gladly received. Did I thank her? I don't remember. Probably not, who gives thanks for eardrops?

When my sisters got home from school, they would explain any homework I had and bring me my schoolbooks. (I'm not sure I appreciated that effort on their part very much) Then they'd go to do their homework. Believe it or not, they would come back and play with me instead of going off to their friends' houses. Then, Dad would come home from work and come to see me and ask how I was feeling. Depending on how sick I felt, I could join the family for supper or Mom would bring it to me in my room.
All this love and attention made my pain or discomfort easier to bear. Out of these experiences as a patient was born the vocation to be a nurse. Sometimes, I was too ill to join the family or might be in the hospital, and the loneliness and separation was the most difficult element of illness for me to bear. Still, I trusted that Mom or Dad would come to see me when they could. I was not so very ill that they felt they had to drop everything to be with me and somehow I knew this. I don't think I ever expected anything different than the way things were. My parents might have been unseen but they were very real.

In many ways, the Heart of Jesus can seem to be far away from us. We have the impression that He is hidden from us. We cannot see Him. We cannot hear Him. This has been going on for a long time. The psalmist asks How long, O Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? (PS 89) When things get rough and the way before seems very dark, it is our natural human inclination to ask, "Where are you Lord?" When tragedy and catastrophe strike, we ask, "Where are you?" When evil abounds and hate is oozing into the most unexpected places, we ask, "Where are you, Lord?" Qoheleth, in the book of Ecclesiastes observed,"...in the judgment place I saw wickedness, and in the seat of justice, iniquity."

I cannot say that I personally have experienced abounding evil and oozing hatred, but I have seen it and would know it anywhere. I can even hazard a guess that you have seen it too, even if only second hand. By that I mean in newspapers, television, and radio.

Recently, my sister returned from a medical mission trip to Haiti. She brought back reports of having seen a nation of people who, from a distance, might be expected to be crushed and defeated by poverty and governmental oppression and indifference, illness and unspeakable hardship. To many people, poverty is a manifestation of evil and the outcome of hatred. But up close and personal, it was not evil and hatred that she found. She found souls who, collectively and individually, were generous and joyful. They told her that they have no money for food (never mind medications) and even if they did, food is so scarce and expensive, they wouldn't be able to buy it anyway. So they eat water and mud mixed with a protein powder, vegetables they coax to maturity, and little animals that come their way.

Yet these are a prayerful and thankful people, eager to celebrate their faith and religion and to share what they have. Who could see this and not walk away transformed? Some would say Haiti is a country pregnant with disease (AIDS and TB are rampant), poverty, and social ennui but, on closer examination, perhaps we, in our greed and selfishness, are far sicker, poorer, and almost paralyzed by moral malaise. God is not absent from the heart of Haiti. No, indeed. He is clearly in their midst.

Once, I read something that was attributed to Gandhi. He said, "The enemy is fear. We think it is hatred, but it is fear." Hear what he says: "The enemy is fear."

As St Rose and I learned, believing in a God who loves us and will help us and rescue us eliminates fear. Whenever a feeling of fear comes over me (whatever the cause), before the fearful thoughts can come to completion, I pray the words we use to begin the Divine Office: Oh, God come to my assistance. Oh Lord, make haste to help me. I repeat this prayer as often as I need to. If I feel my anger rising or my grip on patience slipping away, again I utter, Oh, God come to my assistance. Oh Lord, make haste to help me. When bodily pain or exhaustion threaten to snatch away my joy, again I say, Oh, God come to my assistance. Oh Lord, make haste to help me.

My God is always near. . Like my Mom in days long past, He is near. I may not see Him, or hear Him, or feel Him, but he is there. He is here. He is everywhere. Didn't we learn this in our earliest years of catechism? The Heart of Jesus is beating within our own hearts.

And, haven't we heard or read how much God loves and favors the poorest, the weakest, the littlest ones in His family? How can we not look upon the same with a holy envy knowing that these are the recipients of his predilection? It is only when our confidence in God begins to falter that fear creeps in.

Afraid of hunger, afraid of want. Afraid of pain, afraid of infirmity. Afraid of losing power, afraid of losing our good name. Afraid of losing the esteem of others, afraid of losing a position or job. Afraid of failing, afraid of getting fat. Afraid of being left out, afraid of flying....This fearful litany may possibly have no end, but you get the idea.

Maybe Gandhi was right. Maybe fear is the enemy. Perhaps the only worthy fear is the fear of offending God, but even so the fear will supernaturally give way through repentance, to forgiveness, and restoration in His Love. Again, I think back to my Mom and Dad. What could I have done to lose their love? I might do something that angers them, irritates them, embarrasses them, or even causes them great anguish and sorrow, but they will never stop loving me.

So it is with God, but in a greater, and indeed, a perfect degree, for He foresees my fall from grace. He does not inflict hardship on me as punishment or to appease His righteous wrath. He is not out to get me, although to those weak in faith this may seem to be the case. Like my Mom when I was sick, He is always near. "God is in our weakness. God is in our frailties". (Guy Consolmagno, SJ).
And if this is true, if God is in my weakness, if God is in my frailty, then as the saying goes, I am good to go! I have everything I need, for I am well equipped with weakness and frailty.

As I grew up, I strayed away from the attraction of extreme mortifications and practices of Rose of Lima type saints and found a model in St. Francis de Sales who recommended moderation in everything but love. St. Therese of Lisieux, who was influenced by Salesian spirituality, lived what she called The Little Way. It seems to me, living the middle, little way, is the way that everyone can follow.

When I finished school and was out in the world supporting myself, I came to understand that I could not feed the hungry or house the homeless of the world. I could not do it for one small country like Haiti. I could not even do it for my surrounding community. But, I could do something. Realizing this, I became a supporter of the local homeless shelter and food bank, and free health clinic. These activities combined the giving of myself and my time, as well as, my financial support. I began to live more simply, calling to mind the power of living in a spirit of solidarity with the poor, without the extremity of divesting myself of every possession.

Now, as a professed religious, I have no personal resources to donate, but unite my heart with the almsgiving we do as a Community. Now I live in a glorious and beautiful (although occasionally leaky) house of God, and so my help for the homeless takes the form of offering prayers and sacrifices for them and bringing the plight of the poor to the attention of others as opportunities present themselves (like now, at this talk!).
When we either pray for others who are in need of assistance, or when we actually render aid ourselves, we are helping the Heart of Jesus to make Himself known. We make the nearness of God evident in our actions. It is easy, isn't it, when we are overwhelmed with difficulty, to feel like the Lord has abandoned us? These are the times when faith is challenged and so when someone comes to us in our need, whatever it is, we are instantly reminded that He is near...very near.

This presentation was given at the Monastery of the Visitation of Tyringham, MA on Sunday June 1, 2008

God be Praised