Song for Reflection: Be Thou My Vision
As alluded to in the introduction, the theological virtue of hope is a gift from God, rather than simply the natural passion of hope which we share with the animals (St. Thomas Aquinas) - like hoping it doesn’t rain or that we have a good trip…
 
According to St. Thomas, hope strives toward something that is possible, namely eternal life. 

God is both the good we hope to attain - and - the one by whose grace we hope to attain our end.
 
Christian hope isn’t like hoping to win the lottery (against extreme odds) 
Allow me to draw from paragraphs 1813 and 1817 through 21 of the Catechism.
Here, we read that the theological virtues:

• allow us to participate in the divine nature
• related directly to God
• enable us to live in relationship with the Trinity.

And, hope, in particular:

• Urges us to desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life,
• relying on Christ's promises and the grace of the Holy Spirit.
• is tied to the Beatitudes and the promises of God,
• is a weapon in the struggle for salvation.

In preparing this retreat, I thought about my experience working the night shift.  I had been asked to work unexpectedly.  After finishing my work of cleaning and probably laundry, I was waiting in the hall for the nurse to come so I could go sleep.  The words of Psalm 130 were fresh in my mind since we had been praying it every evening for our deceased Sister. 
 
I was quite tired since I hadn’t slept for nearly 24 hours.  I could really relate to this passage and thought: “So this is how the watchmen referred to in the psalm felt.  “My soul is waiting for the Lord, I count on His word.  My soul is longing for the Lord, more than watchmen for daybreak.  Let the watchman count on daybreak and Israel on the Lord.”
 
We see a beautiful example of this hoping in the Lord in the Carmelite nuns at Compiègne who were guillotined during the reign of terror following the French revolution.  They knew their death was imminent and prayed for a year, seeking the grace they would need and offering themselves for the salvation of France.
 
These sixteen nuns, one by one, went to their death singing the Veni Creator Spiritus.  Each asked permission to die from their superior and bravely went, youngest to oldest.
 
Interestingly , the revolutionary government fell ten days after their execution.
 
Pope Benedict, in his document, Spe Salve and his treatise on Virtues, teaches us a lot about hope.  Hope allows us to face our current circumstances in view of our goal; heaven is our goal.
 
The Catechism shares that hope opens up our hearts in expectation of eternal beatitude (aka heaven) (par. 1818) .
 
These are strong words – expectation of heaven!
 
I’d like to share a lovely quote from St. Teresa of Avila:
“Hope, O my soul, hope. You know neither the day nor the hour. Watch carefully, for everything passes quickly, even though your impatience makes doubtful what is certain, and turns a very short time into a long one. Dream that the more you struggle,  the more you prove the love that you bear your God, and the more you will rejoice one day with your Beloved, in a happiness and rapture that can never end” 
 
In the past several years, I’ve walked with a couple of people close toward death – my dad and Sr. Rebecca.  Hope has been a game changer
In this process, the analogy has come to mind that having a loved one die is like saying “See you later” rather than “Goodbye” – we have this hope.
 
Meanwhile, along our journey, as Catholics, we want to steer clear of the sins against hope, namely, despair and presumption.
Despair:

• a person stops hoping for salvation, for help in attaining it or for the forgiveness of his sins. Despair is contrary to God's goodness, to his justice - for the Lord is faithful to his promises - & to his mercy. 

Presumption:

• Two kinds:

Either man presumes upon his own capacities, (hoping to be able to save himself without help)

• or he presumes upon God's almighty power or his mercy (hoping to obtain his forgiveness without conversion and glory without merit).

 
Sometimes, I’ve heard people joking flippantly about confession, saying something like, “Let’s go steal some apples off that tree…it’ll be okay because I’m going to confession this afternoon.”  Even though they are kidding, I cringe interiorly because this is not the response of gratitude and love we should give to God for his goodness.  We should not be presumptuous. 
 
As I wrap up this segment on hope as a theological virtue, I’d like to share a story from my childhood. 
 
It was Christmas Eve, and “Santa” (possibly one of my uncles) was visiting.  He had been digging in his sack, pulling out gifts for all the cousins.  Santa felt his sack and it seemed empty, but my brother Dave hadn’t got a gift yet.  With his big brown eyes, he looked earnestly at the man in a red suit and called out, “Me good, Santa; me good!” 
 
What an illustration of our topic of hope! We know God has good things in store for us!

As we prepare to embark on the jubilee year in a little over a month, I wanted to share with you reflections that I presented this past fall to women at a day of reflection at St. Anne's in Grand Forks.  Together with Sr. Mary Ruth, much of this material was also presented for a weekend retreat here in Hankinson.

Rather than share it all at once, I will be dividing the reflections over several weeks' time.  
​
Session I: Introduction
Song for reflection:  Cornerstone

In today’s world, we don’t hear a lot about hope, but it’s an extremely important virtue.  We will say, “I hope you have a safe trip.” Or “I hope we don’t get caught in the rain.”  But, do we say in earnestness, “I hope to see you in heaven.”? 
 
When the idea for this day of reflection, centering on hope, came to me this past July, I didn’t realize that the Pope’s theme for the upcoming Jubilee is hope – how appropriate!  It will begin on Christmas Eve and go until Epiphany, 2026.
 
I invite you to pray the Jubilee prayer. 
* * *
To be more accurate, this coming year’s theme isn’t just hope – but pilgrims of hope.  We are on a journey. 

As I began the day, I let the participants know that my impaired vision would probably affect the way I presented and lessen my ability to maintain eye contact, etc.  In this context, I went on to share the story of an experience I had during my high school years.
 
The summer after my sophomore year of high school, my parents made me attend a nearly three-week program for kids with vision impairments.  From even before the camp started, I had a very negative attitude, giving it the name “Torture Camp.”  I even went so far as to ride bike aimlessly around town to avoid going, when the dreaded day arrived.  This program was intended to give us more real-world experience and skills for doing daily activities after graduating.  We took a city bus to a part-time job, for example. 
 
You might say that, during that time, I had hope -  I had a goal in mind – the end of that camp!  June 26, 1997 – when my exile would be over and I could leave that place of torment. But it really wouldn’t have been that bad – If I had had a better attitude – If I had recognized that our Lord was with me – if I would have seen it as an opportunity to learn and grow – if I had seen the humor in the troubling incidents, like getting squirt with a water gun by a “drive-by shooter” and getting knocked in the ankles by canes.  Unfortunately, though, I didn’t.  I was not exercising the virtues of my baptism terribly well.  I was not utilizing the virtue of Christian hope.
 
Even though our life on earth can be very difficult, if we approach it with the eyes of faith and hope, we can find joy in the midst of the sorrows.   We can realize that life is a pilgrimage of hope more than a torture camp.
 
In the reflection to follow, I will share what the Catechism teaches about hope as a theological virtue.  I will explain how Jesus is our hope, I will share how the sacraments are sources of hope, and also explain how Mary and the saints inspire our hope as well.  As you may notice, the Holy Spirit is very important as we speak of the virtue of hope.  His action will come up again and again as we study what the Church teaches us on this topic.  I will conclude with some thoughts on how we can share a reason for our hope with others.
 
I’d like to put theme verse, “A Reason for your Hope” from 1 Peter 3:15 in its context (14-17):
“But even if you should suffer because of righteousness, blessed are you. Do not be afraid or terrified with fear of them, but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts. Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope,  but do it with gentleness and reverence, keeping your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who defame your good conduct in Christ may themselves be put to shame. For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that be the will of God, than for doing evil.
 
I shared a beautiful story a certain mother shared with me last summer:
 
Her youngest was born 10 weeks early, and needed to be on a feeding tube for a year and a half.
They did feeding therapy with her every day with the hope that one day she would eat on her own.  They let her play with food, taste different foods and take small bites.  This mother found herself often fearing that she would never eat; she struggled with her own interior battle to accept her lovingly as she was, her beautiful baby girl with hope that she would one day enjoy eating.  Thankfully, her daughter eats everything now.  This beautiful woman closed by reflecting, “Maybe that’s how our Father in heaven looks at us, lovingly accepting us with the knowledge of the heavenly banquet that awaits us.”
 
I hope that these reflections will help you to be more aware of what we mean when we talk about hope and help you to cultivate this virtue in your own life. 
 
As I close this session, I’d like to share with you one of my favorite scripture passages that speaks to hope, from Romans 8:
What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? As it is written: “For your sake we are being slain all the day; we are looked upon as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers,  nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
 
​
Stay tuned in the next week or so for the second segment of this series!

Wow!  It’s been a long time since I’ve written…I’m sorry about that.  It seems that, between life getting busy and me not feeling inspired, the weeks have passed by.
 
I guess, to be honest, I’m in a better position to write today than I would have been for a couple of weeks. 
 
​I’ve been really struggling with a certain situation, wondering what I should do (if anything) and how it would all turn out.  It’s been a difficult time for me. 
 
I had been bringing it to prayer, trying to surrender and trust, but I’d been finding very little peace. 
 
A couple of days ago, I started praying more just for the grace to trust in this situation.  All along, though, I had been handing it over to Our Lord, sitting before Him in the Tabernacle and also at Mass. 
 
However, I wasn’t finding myself really able to trust that He would take care of the situation and make it work out ok. 
 
I had also, of late, renewed my efforts of praying for the intercession of “all the angels and saints.”    In particular, I called upon St. Pio (in light of his recent feast day and other circumstances) and St. Francis. 
 
Either late last night or early this morning, though, something changed.  I had a distinct realization which I am now struggling to put into words. 
 
It became clear to me that Jesus would make the situation work out as He saw fit, as He knew best.  As I had been reminding myself, He is all-powerful, all-wise, and all good.  He is totally able to take care of it and make things fall into place in the way that is best for all concerned.  I realized anew that it is not my job to take care of this situation.  I just need to step back, take a deep breath, and let Him work it out. 
 
I’m not promising that I will do this perfectly, but I am praying that I can persevere in this attitude, whatever comes. 

Sr. Christina M. Neumann, OSF

I’ve been thinking of writing this since I got home over a week ago! 
 
Recently, attending a youth conference, one of the songs they used resonated with me. 
 
Actually, it was just one line in Cody Carnes’ Nothing Else.  It was right around the feast of the family at Bethany (Sts. Mary, Martha and Lazarus), which made it even more appropriate.  
 
The above-mentioned line: “I just want to sit here at your feet,” along with echoing Mary’s posture while Jesus was visiting their house, is dear to my heart as a posture of prayer. 
 
Nothing Else really isn’t one of my favorite songs, but some of the thoughts contained therein really rang true to me and my experience of praying with the scriptures. 
 
This experience, for me and countless souls before me, isn’t just one of asking for a list of different intentions…It’s an experience of being with Jesus and listening to Him. 
 
It’s an experience of just sitting at His feet, whether it be at the home of Bethany, the Sea of Galilee, or the Foot of the Cross. 
 
During this time of Eucharistic Revival, how could I fail to mention the great gift we have as Catholics to really, physically, sit before the Lord, present in our tabernacles? 
 
It is a gift that will never grow old!  Each day brings us a new opportunity to sit at His feet, listening to Him and then to go out and share His love with others.  

Although I wasn’t able to attend the Eucharistic Congress, taking place these days in Indianapolis, I’ve, nonetheless, been a recipient of graces of these days. 
 
During my work, I have been tuning into the sessions.  I have felt my heart being stirred and inspired by the words of the speakers, given to the thousands gathered and also to us tuning in from at home. 
 
These presentations have reinforced a message that had been placed on my heart earlier in the week.  Themes of hope, trust, and freedom were shared in those reflections I was able to hear.
 
I hope and pray they are speaking to your heard and inspiring you as well, whether or not you are physically present.

A couple of days ago, I was heading back from my home visit in Minnesota.  The fields were beautiful and green. 
 
It was a nice afternoon for a drive, as we passed farms and small towns along the interstate. 
 
Going past these agricultural areas reminded me of a verse of scripture which was appropriate for me at this time: “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). 
 
This time of heading back, of leaving my childhood home and loved ones, was an opportunity for me.  It led me to renew my response to our Lord’s invitation to follow Him in the Consecrated Life, to leave behind what I held dear. 
 
As we passed the verdant fields of growing crops, this scripture passage reminded me to look ahead and follow Jesus rather than dwelling on what is left behind. 
 
These reflections came after several days with my mom and family in the Twin Cities.  A couple of days before, one of our Sisters had brought a visitor from Germany to the Cities so she could see and experience the area before they gave me a ride back to Hankinson. 
 
She had commented on what a wonderful area it was and how vibrant the Church is there; she mentioned what a sacrifice it had been for me to leave the Archdiocese. 
 
I did not say much in response, but I sensed the truth in these words.  As I reflect on this further, now, I think about how much our Sisters from Germany gave up in coming to America…how countless others made similar or greater sacrifices than mine. 

I realize that each of us makes sacrifices in our life of discipleship.  Personally, I really appreciate the daily opportunity to bring such sacrifices and struggles, as well as joys and hopes, to the Mass as I join my Sisters in prayer.  Another wonderful part of living in the convent is having Jesus present in our own home.   The consoling realization that He is just down the hall can bring joy to even the dreariest of days, when the grass doesn’t look so green and the sun isn’t shining so brightly.
 
I hope that the beautiful fields and flowers and summertime bring us all to lift our hearts in gratitude as we set our hands to the plow…and…our eyes on our Lord.  

I walked by chapel earlier and saw that no one was signed up to read at Mass tomorrow.  Since I haven’t done this for a while, I decided to sign up.
 
Later, when I sat down for my daily time of scriptural prayer, I thought it would be good to use the readings for Wednesday since I may not have a chance to prepare later. 
(When I work in our infirmary until 10 p.m., it impacts my morning schedule.)
 
To my delight, I quickly realized that the first reading was the story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal. 


I was happy that I would be able to do this reading at Mass tomorrow.  It’s a story that I have long enjoyed, for some reason. 
 
In case you don’t remember, this story from 1 Kings recounts a time when the people of Israel were wavering in their faith; they were undecided between following God and worshipping the idol of their neighbors. 


Against the odds, Elijah’s contest against the prophets of Baal proves overwhelmingly who is the true God.   Fire consumes his offering, despite everything having been drenched with water.
 
This episode in Israel’s history is a reminder to us that, no matter how bleak things may seem, God will be victorious.  As tomorrow’s responsorial psalm reminds us, He is our hope on Whom we rely for everything.

Even when, humanly speaking, we can't see a way forward, we are reminded here of who can make a way and turn our losses into victory.

 “For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Mk. 10:45)
 
This verse from our gospel reading this morning has long stood out to me as a poignant one. 
 
In reflecting on this passage, I was struck by what transpired. 
 
Although Jesus was thinking and speaking about His upcoming torture and terrible death, He was able to address a situation with His apostles who were thinking about honors in the coming kingdom.
 
I don’t know about you, but when I’m faced with great suffering, I don’t think I tend to be very attentive to other people.   I am not eager to patiently go beyond myself and help them in such circumstances.
 
Here, though, Jesus is patient with His followers and even teaches them an invaluable lesson about selfless service.
 
In today’s gospel, we too are reminded that our lives are about serving others more than about what others can do for us. 
 
May we be touched by Jesus’ example of love and selflessness and strive, with His help, to put it into practice. 
 
May we strive always to serve and give our lives back to Him in thanksgiving.

It’s been a while since I last flew in an airplane, but not so long that I’ve forgotten the benefit of a nice smooth, soft landing on the runway. 
 
Strange as it may seem, this time after Pentecost made me think of this. 
 
Each year I am grateful for the wisdom (and charity) of the Church in giving us a nice, soft landing from the exhilaration and exuberant joy of the Easter season. 
 
We are not crash-landed back onto the green grass of Ordinary Time.  Thankfully, we are allowed a number of wonderful feasts to help ease us back into the ordinary-ness of the remainder of the liturgical year. 
 
Next Sunday, we will have Trinity Sunday, with all of its wonder and mystery.  Then, we celebrate Corpus Christi (my favorite), in which we especially honor and give thanks for the great gift of Our Lord’s Body and Blood.  After that, we honor the Sacred Heart of Jesus, followed by the memorial of Mary’s Immaculate Heart. 
 
There are other extensions of this paschal joy for us, too.  For example, the Regina Coeli is traditionally prayed until next Saturday night.  Also, one’s “Easter Duty” may be fulfilled yet during this time (by Trinity Sunday). 
 
It's wonderful that we have this sort of post-Easter gradual descent to earth.  There should be no ear-popping or disturbance in our equilibrium.

Today’s reading from Acts continues the theme from last week’s reflection here about unlocked doors. 

St. Luke’s description here is quite vivid. 

As I read it, I find myself picturing the scene in that Philippian prison two-thousand years ago. 

I can almost see Paul and Silas there, singing hymns at night. 

I imagine the scene of the jail shaking and the doors flying open. 

I almost cringe as I read the words about the soldier, as the picture of a uniformed man unsheathing his sword in despair, comes before my mind’s eye. 

Thankfully, Paul’s voice catches him in time, and the story takes a positive turn as we learn of the soldier’s subsequent hospitality, care, and conversion. 

What started in the darkness and uncertainty of that night ends in a bright new day of hope, joy, and new faith. 

A lot happened within the course of the night!

As the days of this beautiful Easter season speed so quickly past us, I pray that our faith, which has been thus renewed, may bear fruit in our lives in the world today. 

You and I probably won’t convert a soldier or be miraculously released from prison, but I suspect that Our Lord has a mission today for each of us. 

As we pray for the coming of the Holy Spirit, perhaps one of our intentions might be that He would help us to be open to that mission and attentive to His promptings. 

Don’t you love the Easter stories of how Jesus comes to the disciples, offering them peace, despite the fact that the doors are locked?  That little detail was no hinderance for our Lord, in His glorified state, that Easter evening. 
 
The cold reality that I don’t share this ability was made abundantly clear to me this chilly Sunday morning.
 
I had decided to make the most of this day of rest, having worked a twelve hour shift in the kitchen and being scheduled Sunday afternoon in our infirmary.  I stayed in bed until after seven! 
 
I gave myself just enough time to get dressed and unlock the doors for visitors while still being a little early for morning Office at 7:30. 
 
Thus, around 7:20, I came down the stairs from chapel and checked the door.  It seemed like it might already be unlocked.  Maybe Sr. Sara Marie had been there ahead of me, I mused.  I decided to test it to make sure, and opened the door. 
 
I stepped outside and let the door close.  I’d like to blame my foolishness on the fact that I had just crawled out of bed. 
 
Too late, I realized that the doors had NOT been unlocked.  I was locked out!
 
Now I had to make tracks or I’d be late for chapel!  I hurried off to another door for which I had a key fob so I could get in. 
 
In my sleepy haste, I headed west instead of east and ended up going the long way around the building! 
 
Finally, I made it inside out of the cool spring air and unlocked the doors.  I was in chapel about two minutes before morning prayer began, and all was well. 
 
This unplanned situation involving locked doors may have been a little blessing in disguise by which I got fresh air and exercise which I would have otherwise missed out on. 
 
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the hidden gifts you give us, even through locked doors

As I prepared for confession today, a piece of spiritual advice came to mind.  I had heard it paraphrased years ago, probably by our youth director. 
 
St. Faustina shares these words, once directed to her: “Do not fight against a temptation by yourself but disclose it to the confessor at once, and then the temptation will lose all its force.”
 
I think the way it was put to me was that, when we confess temptations, “they lose their punch.” 
 
The recollection of this adage was good for me today as it encouraged me to bring a temptation I’d been fighting for a long time to this Sacrament of Mercy.  I hadn’t planned on doing so before this thought came to me during my preparation. 
 
I ended up having a very good confession and left with peace and courage.  I know a daily struggle still awaits me, but am hopeful that I’ll experience some of “the punch” being taking out of the temptation in this area of my life. 

​I pray that the graces of this confession may be sealed and may be fruitful in my life as I move forward “with the help of [His] grace.”

This morning’s reading from Acts recounts the Apostles’ miraculous departure from prison “during the night.”  By early morning, they were back to their task of teaching in the temple as charged by the angel. 
 
As I write this, I am nearing the end of my second consecutive night of working the 10 to 6 shift in our infirmary.  By early morning (after lauds and Mass), I hope to be napping!  😊
 
I wonder if the apostles were tired after their less than restful night, or if their excitement and enthusiasm for spreading the Good News drove out any feelings of fatigue.
 
In another account of imprisonment in the Acts of the Apostles (16:25), we hear of Paul and Silas spending their nocturnal hours in prayer and hymn-singing. 
 
It feels a bit backwards, when beginning the night shift, to say prayers like: “…watch over us when as we sleep” or “…grant us a restful night…”   It almost seems like I should switch these two “liturgical hours,” praying morning prayer at 10 p.m. and compline close to 6 a.m.
 
Nonetheless, whether I am sleeping normal hours or working through the night, I know that my heart should be lifted in praise, like the apostles’, to the one who knows “my resting and my rising” (Ps. 139).

Easter Turnabouts
 
Today, there were only a couple of us down for lunch at first.


We were at the table praying our Before Meal prayers when, suddenly, I realized, “We shouldn’t be praying the Angelus; it’s Regina Caeli time! 
 
Consequently, in the middle of the prayers, we made an abrupt switch and began praying the Marian antiphon for Easter instead. 
 
As I write this, I am realizing that this is not the only abrupt change or turnabout during this season.  In fact, this morning’s gospel account of the Road to Emmaus includes such a change. 
 
At the beginning, two travelers were “looking downcast,” and discussing with dismay the horrible events that had happened the previous Friday.  By the end, they had returned to Jerusalem with joy, hurrying back to share their wonderful news. 
 
Sudden transitions from terrible sorrow to exuberant joy are deeply embedded into our experience of this time of year.  No wonder the Church gives us a whole octave every year to delve into this great mystery!
 
I pray that during this beautiful Easter Season you may encounter our Risen Lord, who is truly the reason for our joy, finding Him “in the breaking of the bread,” in prayer, and “along the way.”
 
Have a blessed Easter Season!

When my alarm went off at 5 this morning, I prepared for the day and hurried down to our small chapel, eager to have some quiet time of prayer before my shift began in our infirmary. 
 
As I reflected on the first reading from Jeremiah and subsequent psalm, several phrases spoke to me: “mighty champion…my strength…my rock, my fortress, my deliverer.” 
 
Like the prophet and psalmist long before me, I was encouraged to put my hope in the One in whom “I have entrusted my cause.”   
                                                                                      
Whatever the day may hold and whatever my struggle may be, today’s readings on the cusp of Holy Week remind me of where my focus should be; the remind me of Who I must look to for my strength and support.
 
I am encouraged to know that “the LORD is with me, like a mighty champion.”
 
As St. Paul would later say, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

​​As we approach these holiest days of the year, memories surface from Passiontides past­- both recent and from years ago. 

My understanding is that the last two weeks of Lent fall under this sub-seasonal category.

We are on the cusp of a somber, yet beautiful time, a particularly holy time. Soon, crosses will be covered.  

Things are going to be so different for me this year, living in a different place and not being sacristan anymore.  I can remember, in the past, wishing that I could just participate in the liturgies of Holy Week without having to coordinate or prepare for them.  Now, I am feeling somewhat nostalgic and almost wishing that I were still in that position. 
 
I can remember getting our brown suitcase down from the top cabinets in the sacristy; it held all the special things we would need: violet-colored cross covers, the wooden clapper, things for the Easter candle, and more. 
 
Even outside the liturgy, there are so many special and unique things tied to Holy Week  Two of my favorites are dyeing Easter eggs on Holy Saturday afternoon and making Hot Cross Buns to serve on Holy Thursday. 
 
I can also remember doing a thorough cleaning of the sanctuary and of candles and the vigil light rack during the last days of Holy Week.  The timing was perfect in more ways than one.  
 
It will be interesting to see what customs arise here for me.  

Have a blessed Passiontide!

Tomorrow starts our provincial chapter.  During this three-day event, we will discuss various topics and elect our new superior.  We have Sisters from our generalate in Germany here for the occasion. 
 
Would you kindly keep us in prayer these days, for the guidance of the Holy Spirit?

When I work until 10 o’clock in our infirmary, I find it hard to get up at my preferred rising time to make it to chapel for a full hour before lauds at 6:30 a.m. 
 
Consequently, this morning, I made my meditation after Mass instead of before.  I heard the readings given us for this Wednesday of the 2nd Week of Lent.

Lately, I have been going through a list of scripture passages which were suggested to me for prayer, but this morning’s gospel from Matthew struck me.  I decided that I would use it, instead, for my scriptural prayer. 
 
“As Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he…said to them on the way, ‘Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.’ ”   (Matt. 20:17-18) 
 
What struck me today was that Jesus knew what awaited Him.  He knew a horrendous death and untold sufferings were in store for Him in Jerusalem.  Yet, He was going there freely. 
 
What courage and love this must have taken!
 
I realized that I, on the other hand, do not know what my “cross” will be, this day or in the future.
 
I do not have the courage or strength to meet it on my own. 
 
Thankfully, I can ask strength and courage from “our brave shepherd,” as the liturgy calls Him (Collect of the Fourth Sunday of Easter). 
 
Today’s gospel provides us with beautiful inspiration as we strive to follow the One who “did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matt. 20:28)
 
What an example we are given! 
 
May we always take up the crosses that come to us with the love and courage He provides!

Last evening, I had a kind of wild shift in St. Mary’s (our infirmary unit).  Around 9 p.m., one of the Sisters told me that the big lights were on in chapel. 
 
There is a balcony there, we call it the choir loft, which overlooks the chapel. 
 
I had noticed the lights a little while earlier, but had kind of assumed that our chaplain was doing something in there.  Being busy, I hadn’t checked back on the situation. 
 
The concerned Sister told me that she had called out: “Is anyone in here besides Jesus?” 
 
I had to chuckle.  It was a dear, but practical witness to Our Lord’s Eucharistic presence.  She knew He was there.  What she wanted to know was if anyone else was there, explaining for this use of the lights. 
 
I told her that I would take care of it and hurried down the stairs to turn off the unused lights in the chapel. 
 
As I entered the chapel, I could here her call out her question again.  I turned off the lights and went back upstairs. 
 
Sometimes, something as mundane as conserving electricity can remind us of Christ’s love, His constant presence with us. 
 
Thanks be to God for these reminders and for the wondrous gift of the Eucharist in which He is always here!

For the first time in a while, I signed up to read at Mass tomorrow.  I decided to start preparing and praying with the reading today in case the morning gets wild.  When I did so, I noticed that the first reading is a bit on the longer side, but it didn’t look difficult. 
 
This reading from Isaiah 58 touched on the themes of fasting and acts of charity.
 
I don’t know about you, but as I begin this Lenten season, the thought of what outward, physical penances I should undertake has come to mind for me. 
 
I don’t think this is wrong.  I think we are invited, even called, to do penance and discipline ourselves.  However, in Friday’s first reading, Isaiah reminds us of another important part of living out our spiritual life:
 
“This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; Sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.”
 
Reading over this passage was a reminder to me to be on the lookout for a brother or sister in need and to be ready and eager to lend a helping hand. 
 
This “need” can manifest itself in so many ways.  Although I may not find any yoke thongs to untie or meet someone in need of clothing, each day holds occasions, if I am aware, for me to serve our Lord in His people. 
 
This Lent, perhaps I need to slow down a little bit so that I can notice the opportunities for “the fasting that [He] wish[es].”  

Perhaps a large part of my call this Lent is to foster this awareness and act upon it.

Soon, we will be entering the holy season of Lent with its plentiful opportunities for deepening our faith and life of prayer…parish missions and Stations of the Cross, carefully chosen personal practices of self-enrichment and self-denial, group volunteer opportunities…and the list goes on.  
 
Sometimes, though, our entrance into the holy is not preplanned and is not part of any community-wide program for formation or renewal.  Sometimes, oftentimes, the holy comes to meet is right where we’re at.
 
Last night, I was helping a Sister with bedtime preparations as I neared the last leg of my shift in our infirmary.  As I was doing so, I happened to catch a glimpse of the crucifix hanging on the wall in the adjoining room.  
 
Something in this struck a chord with me.  It was a beautiful reminder of Christ’s presence in this Sister, in this moment.  It spoke to my heart, telling me that this was, indeed, a holy moment.  
 
I may go about my day doing any number of things, updating a webpage, creating a flyer, promoting upcoming retreats, or even cleaning a bathroom.  What I do need not be something sophisticated, complex, or potentially beneficial to a large group of people.  
 
In caring for one person with patience, kindness, and even a little humor, I am given the privilege of caring for Jesus.  
 
I use the word “privilege" very intentionally here.  One of our recent popes commented on this, sharing that those involved in acts of mercy will realize that they are truly receivers in this role and not only givers.  The line in the prayer attributed to St. Francis that says, “it is in giving that we receive” rings true.  
 
As we anticipate the Lenten season of grace, I pray that you and I may be more aware of the special moments that fill our day and that you, too, may have beautiful glimpses into Christ’s presence in your everyday encounters.  This awareness, in turn, can lead to gratitude.
 
If we are aware, we have so many opportunities to meet our Lord in the mundane - or rather the holy - moments of our lives.  

Just a few days ago, I found myself reflecting that I haven’t been asked to help in the kitchen for a while.  I regretfully wondered if those days were over.  Although it’s a lot of work, these duties are kind of fun, too.  I like to be helping and don’t enjoy twiddling my thumbs.
 
My musings were soon put to rest when Karen, our retreat center coordinator, asked if I could help out on Monday and Tuesday. 
 
I was happy to do so.
 
Appropriately, I had recently come across the following passage from Colossians, which is a wonderful inspiration to direct my steps: “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
 
On Monday, after making apple bread pudding and serving breakfast, I had decided to make chili for supper the next day.  When I shared this with Karen she kind of chuckled and informed me that chili was, in fact, already on the menu for Thursday when the team would be here for the upcoming retreat. 
 
At this point, I already had a 5 lb. package of hamburger thawing in the fridge.  I quickly decided to make meatloaf instead.  Remembering the abundance of already-peeled potatoes in the cooler, I decided upon a cheesy potato casserole for a side dish. 
 
For dessert, I made a family favorite, pistachio pudding.  I had been given several boxes, first from my aunt and then from my mom when she visited last month.  This was the perfect opportunity to use a couple of them.
 
Things went well, and I was also happy to be able to use some oregano from my plant in the windowsill of our hobby room.
 
Today, now, I’m back to some of my other duties, helping in St. Mary’s (our infirmary unit) and working in the library. 
 
One never knows, though, what the day might hold!
 
The next time I find myself musing about not having done something for a while, it may just be a little nudge from above preparing me to reenter this area of service.  

Today, the Church celebrates the conversion of Saint Paul to the Christian faith.  Needless to say, it’s a very important day. 
 
On this day, though, my mind often drifts from this first goes to our Sister whose birthday was also January 25th. 
 
She loved playing Pinochle, and would have a card party with cake and ice cream to celebrate her birthday. 
 
While St. Paul used pen and preaching to spread the gospel, Sr. Mary used her gift for art.
 
When I was in formation, I used to clean in her art room every week.  Boy, was that a job!
 
There were so many knickknacks and projects to dust around.  The floor (what you could see of it) was bubbled in one place so the dust mop would catch. 
 
It was definitely an interesting place to clean! 
 
Now, years later, on this feast of St. Paul, I remember her fondly and ask the intercession of the great “Apostle to the Gentles” for her and all of our Sisters. 
 
I would appreciate your prayers as well.

Shared by Sr. Christina’s mother, Kathy Neumann
 
In 1957-59, my first and second grade, I attended a Catholic grade school In Karlsruhe, North Dakota. This school was run by the Franciscan Sisters from Hankinson, ND. I have very fond, clear memories of these sisters teaching me, along with our pastor, Fr. Zimmerman.
 
These were very formative years in my spiritual life.
 
The Sisters prepared me well for my first Holy Communion and Reconciliation. They were strong, kind, compassionate, and loving teachers.  I looked up to them and admired them for who they were and how they lived their life.  Back then, they were somewhat of a mystery to me in their long black habits, veils, high black boots and large rosaries at their sides…also the white stiff things around their face (coifs).
 
I often thought how hot they must have been in the hot summer days, especially when there was not even the slightest breeze blowing and no air conditioning!
 
About 50 years later, the Lord led our daughter Christina to Hankinson, ND where she joined these Franciscan Sisters.
 
I had no idea, when she went there to visit for the first time, that they were the same group of Sisters that had taught me in first and second grade at St. Peter and Paul Catholic School which I attended so many years previously.  
 
A few of these same sisters were still living in Hankinson when she entered: Sr. Fidelis, always smiling, Sister Mary Sand, with her strong but gentle way, and a few others. They had so much integrity, faith, compassion, kindness and love for the Lord which seemed to radiate from deep within their being.
 
In 2006, the Lord called our daughter Christina to her beautiful vocation with these Franciscan Sisters.  Watching closely her growing and blooming in this place with these Sisters, I've learned what sacrifices, challenges and joy, and real love look like in the vocation of religious life.
 
When visiting our daughter and the Sisters, I have heard many stories of their lives: stories of challenges, sacrifices, hardships but most of all, the love which seem to speak volumes of these beautiful women of faith and their journey that the Lord has taken them on.
 
The charism of teaching they seem to have done very, very well all done with compassion and understanding and also strong morals and ethics, not to mention the joy that radiates from these Sisters I have been privileged to see first-hand.
 
I am blessed, the Church is still blessed by this very critical and important vocation.  A religious vocation, along with the pope/priests and rest of the faithful who make up the three components of our rich Catholic Church. Where would we be without each one?
 
I praise and thank God for all his many blessings, especially this order of faithful servants, the Franciscan Sisters.
 
Sisters, thank you for your Fiat!

Sr. Sara Marie wrote the following reflection for our diocesan magazine.  I'd like to share it.





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December 10th was the 95th Anniversary of our Sisters moving into St. Francis Convent, Hankinson. The group of twelve didn’t even have steps up to the front door yet, approaching over wooden planks to the landing, then up 8 or 9 more steps to the main level. I’ve been feeling nostalgic about them for over a week as I had the privilege of knowing several of them who lived to old age. Sister Mary Joseph (front left seated) was the youngest and only a teenaged postulant when she volunteered for the then historic mission to America.
A few weeks after the Sisters moved in, on January 10, 1929, the first American vocation for our congregation arrived at the front door, by wagon from Mooreton. Clara would become Sister Angeline Althoff and one of the first teachers. How those first Sisters all sacrificed and worked to build up this province for the Lord and his people. Some began the Vestment Department, others taught, some served as cooks and housekeepers—all of them prayed...all of them weeded...all of them, for the glory of God, did more than their share.

Sister Mary Joseph became a teacher and was warmly remembered by the alumni for standing at the door and commanding every student to wipe the mud and gravel from their shoes before walking on the floors the housekeeping Sisters had worked so hard to make shine. Sister Jean Louise always called her the memory of our Province, and that she was. We were blessed that she lived long and was mentally strong to the end. In her retirement years, she dreamt of the day we would be teaching again in our building and would walk the halls with her rosary, praying for the alumni. As it has developed, we now see our young Sisters “teaching” in our former school rooms, offering adult retreats and youth programs. Sister Mary Ruth and Sister Christina, powered by prayer, are as generous and hard working as our pioneers ever were. Sister Susan Marie heads our retreat center which now hosts several hundred people a year for private and group retreats led by other organizers.

Since 1928, women have entered the consecrated life here at Hankinson, trusting God for the whole of their lives. Not all persevered, but all tried, and for that they deserve credit. Father Thomas Nelson, O.Praem., well known among Religious in this country, believes that every young Catholic should be encouraged to, or at least not impeded in any way from, exploring a call to religious life or priesthood, opening themselves to God’s will. If their call is not to a vowed consecrated life, the experience will only make them better Catholics and better people...

The Church needs every vocation, and it is generous parents who God and the Church depend on to give us Priests, Sisters and Brothers. We would have nothing without our Priests, but consecrated Sisters and Brothers bring something different to the Church because of their vowed state. It is a mystery, but the fruits born by religious men and women through the centuries are plentiful, even if hidden.

Now we live in a different time than 1928: small families, largely uncontrolled materialism, confusing messages from some in leadership now and then, increased media control of information, world chaos, .... Pray for young men and women to be able to generously discern God’s call as our early Sisters did, and that He will call more for the Diocese of Fargo. The good news is that, recently, we have seen young communities “dipping their toes” into North Dakota. Let us pray they will persevere here for the Church and put down deep roots like our pioneer Sisters did — flourish the way they did a hundred years ago — so greater numbers of Religious may again help in the parishes. And, pray for young women to respond to God’s call here in Hankinson. Each community has its own unique charism and we hope to see ours go on for another 95 years, along with the new ones!
To paraphrase Father Nelson again: The Church belongs to God. He has a right to call individuals out of the general laity to serve in these vocations. God is calling young people to serve in Church vocations. How can we help them discern? Teach them to love the Church and Jesus in the Eucharist. In this year of Eucharistic revival, there are many ways to do that.