AS098 Ask Sister podcast recorded live on January 12, 2012. Sponsored by aNunsLife.org ministry. Topics include: the difference between penance and sacrifice, speechless God, is grief a rejection of faith, and more!

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Ask Sister podcast is a live podcast where you have the opportunity to engage with us and ask questions about nuns, prayer, religious life, or pretty much anything in between!

Here are some of the topics we addressed in this Ask Sister podcast:

• What is the difference between penance and sacrifice?
• Austerities and asceticism
• I don’t feel like God is telling me much. Am I going to hear a voice one day before graduation telling me to go to a convent? Or is saying “I want to go to college and study anthropology” sufficient?
• Measuring up to the holiness of friends and other people.
• My mother died recently and I’m very sad. But some of my bible study friends say, “She’s in heaven with God now and you should be happy about that.” Is my sadness somehow a rejection of my faith?

Do you have a question for us? Contact us http://anunslife.org/contact/and, using your computer, record your question on voice mail. Be sure to give us your first name and city from where you are calling. We’ll play your message and respond on the Ask Sister podcast. You can also comment below. In whatever way you contact us, please know that your last name, email address, and any other private information will be kept confidential.

I never met Sister Valsa, but she is my sister and yours. My heart breaks for the congregation, family and friends of Sister Valsa John, SCJM, a Sister of Charity of Jesus and Mary who was killed a week ago. See Stephanie Nolen’s piece for the Globe and Mail – Activist nun who fought Indian mining companies brutally murdered (November 17, 2011). Here are some quotes:

Sister Valsa, 52, was from Kerala in south India, and 24 years ago took her vows as a member of the Sisters of Charity of Jesus and Mary. She was one of the remarkable breed of Indian religious figures who are grassroots social activists, who immerse themselves in the most marginalized and impoverished communities and work on literacy, basic health care and human rights. Sister Valsa said she did Jesus’s work by teaching the aboriginal people – known in India as adivasi or “tribals” – about their rights to their land….

Sister Sudha [Varghese, her close friend], who attended the funeral Thursday, said most who knew Sister Valsa believe it was people from the Santhal community, in the pay of the mining company, who killed her. “This is what the companies do: they divide people. When people are this poor, when someone gives them a little money, they can do anything,” she said. “Valsa knew it, and so many times we asked her to leave. But she said, ‘These are my people and I cannot leave them.’ ”

While the proverbial jury’s out in terms of who is actually responsible, news sources tend to name the coal company or possible local people who were angry with Sister Valsa for reporting to police the rape of a woman in the village.

Said Bishop Julius Marandi of Dumka, “Her violent death was a terrible shock and a great loss to the Church. We seek justice, but while we mourn this loss, our mission for the poor, the weak and voiceless will continue, strengthened and renewed by the blood of Sister Valsa, who now intercedes for human rights, justice, dignity and hope of these people.” (source: AsiaNews)

I’ve been reflecting a lot on Sister Valsa’s life and her death. No one knows where one’s vocation will lead — for some, to be a person of compassion, for others a teacher or a missionary or a parent. For all of us, our vocation leads to our death — not directly, perhaps, but in one way or another we find in our death that final statement of how we have lived our life. For some, one’s vocation necessarily entails facing death. I remember my own Sister Alice Baker, IHM, talking about her trip to the Holy Land. She talked about having to discern the possibility of her own death because she was going on a peace mission in a volatile region. I can’t even pretend to know what that means.

I lead a relatively peaceful existence with no threats to life other than the usual ones that all of us human beings face. Sure, I’ve had my share of “close-calls” but I’m intact for the most part! I am blown away by those like Sister Valsa and Sister Alice and so many others who have faced the real possibility of death. For some like Sister Valsa, death has come directly as a result of living fully one’s vocation.

You know, I’ve always wondered why in Compline — night prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours — the last prayer always reminds us of death. “All powerful God, grant us a restful night and a peaceful death.” I think it may be a reminder of our ultimate source and end in God and a reminder to take to heart our vocation. Not sure, but I will definitely keep pondering.

How do you understand “a vocation unto death”?

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Sister Theresa Coulter, IHM

Nothing can ever really take the edge off of the reality of death. Life is, and then it is not. Theresa is with us, and then one Sunday night, she is no longer here the way we have always known and loved her.

There is a song in our IHM tradition that speaks of our sisters who have died as “dwelling now in light, yet ever near.” In times like this, I have to trust the wisdom of my community and of my faith tradition because my plain old human emotions are not all that jubilant. I rather liked Theresa dwelling here and now. I loved her gentle spirit, determination, and courage to speak the truth. I like the Communion of Saints that are here with me, that I can rub shoulders with, revel in God’s mystery with, and share the bond of sisterhood with.

At the same time, I am a woman fiercely of the resurrection. I believe, as we read in yesterday’s Gospel, that God indeed desires peace for us, courage in times of challenge, and trust that God has already conquered the world! (John 16:33) For me, that conquering business does not mean overpowering the world, crushing it; rather it means that in all things — even persecution, suffering, and death — God is with us and has the final word. What is that word? Well, I think about Theresa, and I think of one word. Love.

It’s not easy writing a blog post when your heart is heavy. This morning I woke to find out that two of my dear IHM Sisters died. One sister I’ve known since I entered the community. She lived at the Motherhouse in Monroe and always made sure to keep an eye out for new members to make sure they were doing okay. She used to play cards with me and other nuns, and took great pride in letting others know that she was teaching the young sisters Spite and Malice! The other sister was the sibling of a nun that I lived with while I was in formation. I rarely saw her without her smiling or laughing or having a twinkle of mischief in her eye!

As I think about and pray for my sisters, I am reminded of my first experience ever of dealing with the death of a Catholic sister. When I lived in Toronto with the Loretto Sisters (IBVM), a sister from the house I lived at died. Sister Emma was a fireball, a woman in love with life and with God. She was a singer, and tried to get my friend Michelle and I to sing but there was little hope for either of us! Her death was a shock to all of us, and it broke all of our hearts. I learned so much from the sisters of that house of how to care for one another, how to celebrate and to mourn Emma’s death, and how to place one’s sorrow and one’s trust in God.

Sister Emma’s wake was held in our house — it was a big convent, but still felt a little weird to me because I’d never lived in a house where a wake was held. When the funeral home brought the body to the house, the sisters welcomed the body at the door and prayed as the casket was brought in. The sisters sat vigil with the body, sometimes praying and crying quietly, other times chatting about wonderful Emma stories! The lay women of the house (we were mostly grad students boarding with the sisters while we worked on our degrees) were welcomed into this holy mourning and celebrating. We too sat vigil, we served at the funeral Mass, we buried our sister, and we celebrated as Emma would have wanted us to.

The experience of knowing Sister Emma and of journeying with the Loretto Sisters through her death touched me deeply. It was probably one of the most formative experiences of my life. It taught me the meaning of sisterhood, and it illustrated for me — in full color — what it means to give one’s life, and one’s death, totally to God.

Please pray for my IHM Sisters Alice and Bea who are “dwelling now in light yet ever near”… and  for my Sister Marie, Alice’s sibling, and all of those who loved these women and were touched by them.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May the souls of the faithful departed,
through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen.

Here is a picture I’ve been searching for of my Nuncie, Sister Annunciata Grix, IHM.

A Remembering Card with the info below is made for each sister who dies.

Began

Life
August 16, 1908

Christian Life
August 23, 1908

Religious Life
January 2, 1930

Fullness of Life
July 9, 2008

“In the evening of life we shall be judged on LOVE.
~ Saint John of the Cross

Some of you have begun sharing about the “Nuncies” in your life — people who mentor you, encourage you, and embrace you for who you are. Write in the comments below about who your “Nuncie” has been.

Today is the wake of Sister Anne E. Carr, a Sister of the Blessed Virgin Mary and well-known theologian who died a few days ago.

My prayers and sympathy go out to the BVM Sisters, one of whom is a colleague of mine at Loyola Press.

I only knew Anne through her writings — she was a wonderful theologian and wrote on my favorite theologian Karl Rahner and on Thomas Merton. She was Professor Emerita of Theology at the Divinity School of the University of Chicago. Here’s her bio:

Anne Carr works in contemporary theology, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, liberation theologies, and feminist thought and theology. She teaches courses on the mystery of evil and theological anthropology, and her current research centers on the doctrine of providence. Her publications include The Theological Method of Karl Rahner; Transforming Grace; and Thomas Merton’s Theology of the Self. She is co-editor of several numbers of Concilium centered on women’s issues, is an associate editor of Horizons, and a consulting editor for Theology and Philosophy and Listening. (source)

In my last post “Can you become a Nun if you have a chronic illness?” I received some good feedback from Lisa about the different ways that chronic illness can be understood. Lisa also suggested that I balance out the post by writing about the fact that “if people become ill once in community, particularly post perpetual profession, the community stands with them and does not ask them to leave.”

When a person is fully a member of a religious community, the community is with her 100%. Should she become physically or mentally ill or whatever, the community takes care of her and does not abandon her. She is still a vital member of the community even though she may have to find new ways of expressing this.

Let me give you an example of a sister who was cared for by the community and who, down to her last breath (unable to communicate well or get out of bed), was a vital member of the community. I remember a day when one of my dear IHM sisters was sick and dying. Normally when a sister is dying, there are always sisters sitting vigil with her. Our nuns make sure someone is always in the room or nearby so the sister is not alone. So this one day I went in to see my dear sister Mary Ann. The sister with her graciously left so we’d have some time alone together. I went to her bed and just held her hand and talked to her. She was not really awake and I wasn’t sure if she knew I was there. She didn’t open her eyes or make any response. I wanted to be strong for her as she had always been for me, but I just couldn’t muster up any strength. So I started praying the Hail Mary aloud. Amazingly Mary Ann, in a barely audible voice, said a few of the phrases of the Hail Mary. At that moment I knew that of course she knew I was there and with what little breath and energy she had, she consoled me — she was still being there for me, comforting me like she always did when things were tough. I stayed with Mary Ann a while longer, just sitting in vigil with her. It was one of the most grace-filled moments of my life. Mary Ann died not long afterwards.

The community takes care of one another in sickness and in health. We stand with one another, not always perfectly, but with great love, care and affection. Even when a sister is dying, she can be a source of life and energy and love for all those around her, the sisters, the housekeeping staff, the family members, the health care staff. Everyone. Although being sick or having a serious chronic illness isn’t the same thing as dying, the way we care for one another is the same. It isn’t always pretty being sick, but it is a true blessing to have sisters who care so deeply and would move mountains for you.