The Gift of Seeing Our Poverty

A reflection by Mother Cecilia as we prepare for the Nativity of Our Lord

During this time of preparation for the birth of Our Lord, He has given me the gift of seeing my poverty a little more clearly. I am not talking about poverty in terms of a lack of physical things that I have, but in terms of my utter inability to do anything on my own without God. I’m weak, I’m limited and I’m frequently making mistakes and sinning.

When things are going well, I feel like I’m in control and I think that I can do anything! It’s when I’m struggling and suffering that I see my poverty. God allows this struggle and suffering for many reasons, one of which is that it helps me to see my poverty. When this happens, I often wonder, “Why do I have to see this poverty?” It really hurts! Sometimes I remember the words of one of my favorite saints, who said, “The Mighty One has done great things for me, and the greatest of these is to have shown me my littleness, my incapability of any good" (St. Therese of Lisieux, Story of a Soul).  Wow! I usually don’t think of this revelation as a gift, let alone as the greatest gift!

I’m beginning to learn that the knowledge of my poverty is a gift. I’d like to share some of the reasons why. First of all, it’s always better to know the truth. “The truth will make you free” (Jn 8:32). And the truth is not only that I’m poor; it is also the truth that God is rich—rich in power, mercy and love. Seeing my poverty gives me the opportunity to more clearly see God’s greatness.

Secondly, as I learn the truth, I see that it is God who does all things in me, and I learn that He does them so much better than I could ever imagine. St. Paul tells us that the Lord said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9). Therefore we can say with St. Paul, “When I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:10).

Thirdly, the knowledge of my poverty shows me that God loves me for who I am, not for any sort of perfect actions I can do for Him. It’s actually my poverty that attracts God to me! The poverty of mankind drew Him to become man and to pour His divinity into our humanity! I am like the poor and messy cave in which Jesus was born. He could have arranged to be born in a cleaner, neater place, but He didn’t. He could wait until I seemingly have “everything under control” to do His work, but He tends to do His most powerful work in me when I am the weakest.

Finally, a great gift of seeing my poverty is so that I can surrender to God and give Him permission to work in me and be with me. When I think that I can do everything, I forget to do it with Him. I forget that He wants to be with me!

As we celebrate the Nativity of Our Lord, we notice the poor and messy cave because of the One who was born in it. We rejoice that Jesus chose to enter into this poverty. But the point of the feast is not to remain gazing at the cave and the manger alone, but to gaze upon God who has become man. We can see His face and live (Ex 33:20)! I often get stuck focusing my eyes on the poor “manger” of my heart and forget to keep my eyes on Jesus. I get discouraged by all of my weaknesses and forget about Him there in the midst of them.

When I am discouraged, I am a poor and messy closed space, but when I trust in God, I am a poor and messy open one. I need to accept my weakness and allow it to be the place where God can enter in and work in His power. When we open to the birth of Divine Life in us, we can rejoice with Mary, the Mother of God, in the words of her Magnificat: “He has looked with favor upon the lowliness of His servant, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and Holy is His name!”

Sr. Natalia explains her name

Sr. Natalia was tonsured and received her new name on Dec. 5, during Vespers for the Feast of St. Nicholas. Following monastic tradition, she submitted three names to Mother Theodora, who chose Natalia. Sr. Natalia is named after the Apostle Bartholomew (Nathaniel). She would like to share with you about her connection with her patron.

The Apostle Bartholomew (Nathaniel)
Feast Day: June 11

My greatest draw to Nathaniel is John 1:43-51, when Christ calls him and Philip. I wish to emulate both his knowledge of scripture, and his bold conviction of faith in saying, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” I also wish to imitate his immediate conversion and whole-hearted trust in proclaiming Christ as God and King as soon as he encounters Him intimately. More than anything else in this passage though, I strive to one day be “without guile,” as Jesus acknowledges Nathaniel to be.

His life after Christ’s ascension is also a great source of inspiration. He was crucified upside down next to Philip. Though Philip died, Bartholomew was rescued. Rather than understandably “retire” from mission work at this point, Batholomew continued traveling and preaching the gospel until he was flayed and beheaded. I pray our Bridegroom grants me this courage to profess my faith for all time, unmoving in the face of adversity and persecution, as did the good Bartholomew.

Some beautiful liturgical propers:

“Jesus our God, the Sun of glory, sent you to the whole world like a ray of light to disperse the gloom of ungodliness, O all-glorious one, and to enlighten all who sit in the darkness of ignorance.” 

“Submitting to the will of Him Whose will all things obey, you imitated Him as a teacher of righteousness.”

Before we step into the desert

Today is the first day of the Great Fast, and in exactly one month from today I will turn 30, the age of Jesus when He began His public ministry. And before Jesus began this ministry, the Spirit led Him out into the desert for 40 days where He was tested by the devil. So as we begin the Great Fast, which commemorates in part these 40 days of Jesus in the desert, I am putting myself in the shoes (or sandals, I should say...) of the Son of God who came and put Himself in mine by taking on my human nature.

A friend pointed out to me recently that after Jesus was baptized and before He went out into the desert, He heard the voice of the Father saying, "You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased" (Lk 3:22). What consoling, strengthening words! In the devil's temptations of Jesus, he challenged Jesus' trust in the love of God the Father and of Jesus' identity as His Son. The Israelites were tested in the same way during their 40 years in the desert, but they failed in their trust in God. Jesus did not.

Jesus heard the Father's words of love and did not doubt them, and He remained faithful in the desert. If Jesus, the Son of God, needed to hear these words, how do I think that I can remain faithful to God without accepting these words? How can I step into the desert of the Great Fast, or even step any further into the desert of monastic life, if I do not pause and simply let God love me? If I continue to think that I have to earn God's love, that I have to do the right things in order to be pleasing to Him, or that I am not of priceless value just as a child of God, then how will I not succumb to all of the devil's temptations?

Before I can fast, I need to know God's love for me in a deeper way. Fasting is not what draws God's love to me; the poverty of my humanity and my existence as His child does that. Before we step out (or step further out) into the desert of Lent, let's give God a chance to speak these words to us in the unique way that He speaks to each of our hearts: "You are my beloved son (or daughter); with you I am well pleased." And then our fasting will open us even more to His love and mercy.

Mother Cecilia

"...For the children of the desolate one will be more..."

Newsletter Reflection 3 of 6

A Reflection from Mother Gabriella about her life profession on Nov. 8

A couple months ago, a priest-friend of mine joked about my upcoming life profession, saying, “Your name is going to be Mother soon!  I am going to call you ‘Mom’ – and I’m coming to YOU for spiritual direction!”  Thankfully he was only kidding, but his words did strike a chord in my heart.  It was true!  Soon I would be making my life profession and setting aside biological motherhood to fully embrace my vocation as a nun and spiritual mother of priests and of souls.

The more I reflected on spiritual motherhood, the more I felt confident that it was intimately connected with two other realities in my life – being a daughter of God the Father and a Bride of Christ.  I realized that I could not give myself fully to Christ without a deep knowledge of the Father’s love for me and that I would have no love to offer Jesus as my Spouse if I had not first received the love of the Father.  The gift of spiritual motherhood really seemed to flow from my relationship with the Father and my union with Christ as His Bride, and from this communion, I sensed a great potential for fruitfulness.

With her Goddaughter, Grace

In imitation of the Theotokos (Mary), I truly pondered all these things in my heart as I approached my profession day.  There is so much that could be said of such a momentous day, but the moment that will be forever engraved on my heart was when Bishop John placed my wedding ring on my finger.  Instantly, I knew in my heart that I had been espoused to Christ, which was beautiful and overwhelming all at once.  As I stood before our icon of Christ the Bridegroom, I was in awe.  Then another thought hit me – I would soon be receiving Jesus in the Eucharist and sealing the covenant of our union!  The spousal encounter of the Eucharist had never been more real to me than in the moments leading up to my first Eucharist as a fully-professed nun.  After receiving Jesus, I had a beautiful encounter with Him in the enclosed garden of my heart.  I knew immediately that our union during that time was going to bear fruit, but I figured it would be years before I would see it, if ever.

The rest of the evening was incredibly blessed, from the greeting line in the church to the beautiful reception where so many of our family and friends gathered to celebrate our profession.  As the evening came to a close, I had an opportunity to talk with some of my dear friends, a married couple, who had approached me with a question.  They have been married for several years and had trouble conceiving, but through God’s grace they are preparing to give birth to a boy early next year.  We stepped to the side and they took the opportunity to ask if I would be the godmother of their little boy!  My heart was elated!  Due to community constraints, I am not able to be the official godmother, but I assured them that I would be honored to be his spiritual godmother.  Then suddenly my eyes filled with tears – Jesus had shown me the fruit of our union!  This little boy, who had been conceived through much prayer and patience, was now conceived in my heart on my profession day!  I had a spiritual son!  Just as surely as I knew I was espoused to Christ, I knew that this little one was His gift to me.  God is never outdone in generosity.  Thanks be to God for the gift of my vocation and spiritual motherhood!

"For the sake of the joy that was set before Him He endured the cross"

Happy Feast of St. Anthony of the Desert and First Sunday of the Triodion: the Sunday of the Publican & the Pharisee! 

Newsletter Reflection 2 of 6

A Reflection from Mother Cecilia about her Profession on Nov. 8

After our profession, Sr. Iliana commented to me, “At the beginning of the profession you were very serious, but at a certain point you were suddenly smiley and didn’t stop smiling!”  I knew exactly what she was talking about.  As I stood before the bishop and responded to each of his questions, “Yes, Master, with God’s help,” I felt the weight of these life-long promises I was making.  Then the bishop began to read to us the catechesis that follows his questions. These instructions, too, are very serious.  But then the bishop said the following words, and everything changed in my heart:

“Always be sensible and mature, ever inspired by the vision of the good things of eternity, which are the desire of everyone who lives for God.  Think of the martyrs and all the holy ones who have pleased God since the world began; think of their sweat and labor, of the blood they shed, and how they obtained these eternal riches only through death.  Endure difficulties as a loyal soldier of Christ, for because of us He became poor, and dwelt in our midst so that we might share the riches of His Kingdom.” 

At that moment, God held out the Kingdom to me. I understood its immense joy, both in the next life and in this life, for “the Kingdom of God is within you” (Lk 17:21). I wanted to give everything—my whole life and my whole being—to receive this Kingdom. I wanted to sacrifice everything to live for this Kingdom, not only for myself but in order to draw the whole world into it as well.  I wanted to give myself totally to the One who was offering Himself to me. I did, as best as I could, and I was filled with incredible joy.

It is monastic tradition to remain in the monastery chapel for five days after the profession, “resting from all work, except reading, and abiding in spiritual contemplation and mental prayer.”  When this profound experience of union with my Bridegroom was completed, the first piece of news I heard was about the attacks in Paris.  For the first time in my life, it occurred to me that I might be called to be a “red” martyr—to literally shed my blood for Jesus.  I realized that the “white” martyrdom of monastic life is training for that.  Each day as we “die” to ourselves in the little moments, setting aside our own wills and desires for love of God and others, we are preparing to give the bigger offering of our lives.

When I came out of my five-day retreat, or “honeymoon,” I also experienced another reality: I really felt like a mother!  I instantly received a great motherly concern and tender love for every person, all of whom are my spiritual children.  Monastic life makes even more sense to me from the vantage point of a mother.  A mother sets herself aside for her children. She “dies daily” (1 Cor 15:31) for them, and this is her great joy.

Martyrs and mothers teach me so much, but it is ultimately Jesus, my Bridegroom, who will help me to die for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.  Just as God held out the Kingdom to me during my profession, the writer of the letter to the Hebrews says, “For the sake of the joy that was set before Him He endured the cross…” (12:2). Jesus’ infinite love compelled Him to run to the cross, and it is only by transforming me into this love that I will be able to be the offering of love that I vowed to be.