Make religious life a habit!

I crack myself up. No, I don’t wear a habit. I’m not a nun. I don’t even wear a mantilla to Mass. A mantilla is one of those lace doily head coverings that went the way of the wind in the spirit of Vatican II. It says in 1 Corinthians 11:15, that a woman’s long hair is her glory. I find it more a matter of humility. If you’ve seen the raggedy mop I usually wear, you’d probably agree. This isn’t about my bad hair days, though. It’s about trying to live a life of holiness.

I feel compelled to share another story from my youth. I grew up in a parish run by Redemptorist priests and Sisters of the Holy Name of Jesus and Mary. The sisters taught me many wonderful things, like how to play the piano and violin and how to diagram a sentence of any length and complexity. I am a professional musician much to their credit, and I can still diagram like a maniac. Although I do cringe at some of the things I put them through. Like the time I dropped all of my quarters on the floor and we were busted playing blackjack in the back of the classroom during an inside recess. Or the time I shot this poor woman in the face with a squirt gun while she waited at the traffic light with her car window down. Of course I went sprinting into the school and she must have called and reported me as soon as she reached her destination. Yikes! What was I thinking?! That was not a pleasant announcement from the principal over the school intercom. Thankfully, no one ratted me out.  I really do feel badly about those things. No matter what kind of mischief we were causing, the sisters always lived their vocation with joy and patience. I was so intrigued by their lifestyle. They were totally devoted to God and made so many sacrifices to teach us kids. I wanted to live like them. I wanted to be a nun. They were wonderful models of Christian charity. I remember them telling me that I would certainly know if God was calling me to religious life. It would be as clear as a bell. I waited and waited. I put so much stress on wanting the call to the religious life of a sister, that I missed the part about marriage being a vocation as well. I figured marriage was what you did if you didn’t get the real call. I didn’t get the real call. Well, I didn’t get the call I wanted to hear at the time. In my own misguided mind I interpreted that as I wasn’t good enough. Oh, I couldn’t have been more wrong and I couldn’t have been more heartbroken. Then I misbehaved even more  because I figured it didn’t matter! Thank heavens for mercy and redemption!

The most amazing thing is that the sisters were right about being able to recognize God’s call when it finally came. I thought it was only for priests and nuns, but it also really was for married life as well. I heard Him so loud and clear the day I saw my husband for the first time. His voice was so clear in fact, that I had to stop what I was doing and look around for who I thought was talking to me. I will never forget that moment. I will also never forget what it was that I was to be listening for and hearing for the rest of my life. Let me be very clear: WE ARE ALL CALLED TO LIVE A RELIGIOUS LIFE! In living a life of service to our spouse and children, we demonstrate our faith. Being kind and patient when we want to scream is part of living a religious life. Putting aside our needs with joy in our hearts because we know we are providing someone else with happiness is part of living a religious life. The bottom line is that we are all called to live in imitation of Jesus Christ through His Gospel message, service and sacrifice for the benefit of others.  Being virtuous – generous, charitable, humble, forgiving, prayerful, sacrificial.

The Catechism (2204) refers to the Christian family as “. . . a specific revelation and realization of ecclesial communion, and for this reason it can and should be called a domestic church. It is a community of faith, hope, and charity; it assumes singular importance in the Church, as is evident in the New Testament.”

Living a religious life means receiving the Sacraments frequently, like going to daily Mass as often as possible and cleansing our souls through Confession at least once a month if not more. Make your morning offering. Always say grace. Pray the Angelus. Learn how to pray the Liturgy of the Hours or even easier, subscribe to the Magnificat. Pray the Rosary. Spend an hour praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament. Give up using all artificial contraception. Open your heart to your spouse the way Christ’s heart was opened on the cross. Turn off the television and the radio. Make sure you are listening. Make sure you can hear Him. He has important work for you to do, even in the everyday activities you do in your home. You can do your household chores with joy knowing that the ones you love will find comfort in a clean and warm environment. I say all of this from the perspective of a wife and mother. I know there are many other ways to live a life of service by caring for the needs of others outside of our homes. Right now our focus is on teaching our children to live a life of service so that when they’re grown, they will go out into the world and help others by using their God given talents and gifts.

Don’t think for one second that because you don’t wear a habit or a collar that the expectation for holiness is any less for you. It isn’t. Many of the saints were married with families. Like St. Therese, they did ordinary things with extraordinary love.  That’s what will make you a saint, too. Is it difficult? You bet! We are saturated with a message that is contrary to what I have just written, but I believe that heaven awaits and is attainable! I have hope and I will keep doing my best to love and serve the Lord. At this point, I should probably mention again, the benefits of frequent Confession. I want to make sure you are aware that I’m aware of my own serious shortcomings in my continued attempt at holiness. Saying it is easy. Living it is really hard. We have to help each other with encouragement and prayer.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is a good model for Roman Catholics living in America. As a young girl, she helped raise the  younger children in her family. She married her husband and they had five children of their own. She was a devout Episcopalian but converted to the Catholic faith.  In addition to raising her family, she spent countless hours and all of her money educating and serving the needs of the poor. After her husband died, she even started her own religious community, the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph.  The sisters are still active today, teaching children and helping the poor.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, model of charity and faithfulness, pray for us!

That is the ugliest, most beautiful bird I've ever seen!

I’m referring to none other than the pelican.

Up until a few weeks ago, I had never given the pelican much thought. I knew it was a large, white, sea bird with a huge, cavernous beak; short, strong legs and a very wide wingspan. They are capable of expanding their throats to hoard the fish they catch. It really is an odd looking bird. On top of it, I’ve never been a big fan of birds. I had Finches when I was a kid, but they made the biggest birdseed mess you’ve ever seen on the shag carpet that I had in my room. Vacuuming was a nightmare and a couple pair were accidentally asphyxiated during my aerosol hairspray sessions. It was the late ‘80’s. Please don’t call PETA. I thought the pet store was selling me sickly birds.  We currently have a few interesting looking birds in our backyard every now and then, but for the most part, I avoid birds. The spastic, flapping feathers and the potential for viral disease and lice getting into my lungs and hair makes me very nervous. However, I discovered something very special about the pelican that has dramatically changed my opinion of the awkward looking beast and has deepened my sacrificial devotion to my family and Church.

When our parish installed its new marble altar, there were four tiles placed on the front representing different aspects of our faith. The tile on the bottom right was of a pelican and her babies. I know an explanation of the pelican was given, but I wasn’t paying attention.  It wasn’t until a discovered an alternate translation to the hymn Adoro te devote by St. Thomas Aquinas that I began making the connections. The sixth verse of the seven verse hymn is all about the pelican. The translation usually heard in the hymn Humbly We Adore Thee, is not even close to what St. Thomas originally wrote. Surprise! The Church has been saturated with bad translations – a rant for another day. Until I had seen that verse, it had never occurred to me that such a ghastly looking bird could be portrayed in such gentle and sacrificial way.

                                O soft, self-wounding pelican!

                                Whose breast weeps balm for wounded man,

                                That blood, whose least drops sov’reign be

                                To wash my words of sin from me.

Early Christianity adopted the image of the pelican because of the belief that the pelican would gouge into its own breast to feed its offspring, blood and flesh, to keep them from starving in times of famine. This can easily be made into a metaphor for Jesus Christ’s sacrificial life, not only in the way He gave His life for us on the cross, but  Jesus actually says, “. . . unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life within you.” (John 6:53) It’s not far-fetched to see the parallel between Christ and the pelican. It’s also important to recognize that we are called to live in imitation of Him and the bird.

One night after rehearsal, I stopped at the front of the church to pray before I turned off the lights to go home. I was having a personal struggle with the fact that a job I really wanted was no longer available. While I know in my heart it wasn’t in God’s plan for me, it still left a painful sting. My initial conversation with God began with my sad lamentation. I was on my knees in the front pew and that little tile of the pelican caught my eye. I was mesmerized. Here was this bird, self-wounded, with the drops of blood suspended over the open mouths of its babies. Here was a mother giving her life to sustain the lives of her children. I realized I needed to be more like the pelican and of course, more like Christ.  Our decision to home school and putting aside my personal ambitions made choosing the pelican as a model for imitation, a logical choice. I think all mothers will find comfort and encouragement in the image of the pelican, once they take a good look at it. Reflecting on it can inspire us to give until it hurts, literally, even in a physical way, and can help us become more generous and loving in a world that encourages selfishness and loathing.

My course this semester is private composition lessons. When asked what my goals were, I informed my professor that I wanted to compose sacred choral music and in the tradition of the Church, I wanted the music to serve the text. He thought that was a lovely idea and sent me on my way to find a text for my first project. I immediately knew what I would be working on. I returned the next week with the pelican verse from St. Thomas. He looked a little puzzled. Of all the text from which I had to choose, I chose a verse with the word pelican in it? He wasn’t sure that would be easy to sing for various aesthetic reasons. When I explained the legend of the pelican, he looked very intrigued and protested no more. On his advice, I set aside the English translations I had collected and I returned to the original verse in Latin, which is actually going to be very beautiful to sing. O Píe pellicáne, O loving pelican . . .

                                                               

        Píe pellicáne, Jésu Dómine,

                                Me immúndum múnda túo sánguine,

                                Cújus úna stílla sálvum fácere

                                Tótum múndum quit ab ómni scélere.

                                Loving pelican, Jesus Lord,

                                Me unclean cleanse-Thou in-Thy Blood,

                                Of-which (a) single drop to save

                                (the) whole world is-able from all (its) guilt.

That translation is literal and a bit awkward. You certainly get the idea but if it bothers you, please go back up to the one near the top. It is a little gentler.

I think it is also important to add that in the image below, my professor pointed out that the pelican looks more like a swan. Yes, that is the beauty of it.