Allow Jesus to "lay down" in your weakness

A reflection by Mother Cecilia, originally published in Horizons, the newspaper of the Eparchy of Parma.

Through the sponsorship of a benefactor, the nuns of Christ the Bridegroom Monastery made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, organized by the Melkite Eparchy of Newton, this past July. It was the first time in the Holy Land for most of the nuns of the monastery.

On the first full day of our pilgrimage, my amazement grew as each new site increased in importance. I was in awe when we visited the place where some of the prophets are buried. Then we visited the place where the greatest of the prophets, John the Baptist, was born. As we approached the place of the birth of the Messiah — of God on earth — I simply didn’t know what to think.

In Bethlehem, we went first to Shepherd’s Field, where the angels announced the Good News of Christ’s birth to the herdsmen. We walked through the ruins of a monastery that existed during the Byzantine period.

After lunch, we arrived at the Church of the Nativity. It is one of the oldest churches still in existence. The doorway is very low, so that visitors must bow in order to enter.

Underneath the church is the Grotto of the Nativity, where the place of Jesus’ birth is marked with a metal star on the floor. Nearby, in the same chapel, is the place where Jesus was laid in the manger. We listened to the chanting of the Gospel and then venerated the place of the Nativity as we sang the Troparion of the Nativity.

I was overwhelmed and nervous to venerate this holy spot, especially as we were being urged to move quickly. As I kneeled down and leaned over to kiss the star on the floor, my metal water bottle fell out of the side pouch of my backpack and crashed loudly on the marble floor near the star. Someone picked it up for me. I tried to touch my chotki to the star, but because it was attached to my belt I couldn’t reach it there. I awkwardly got up. I quickly understood that Jesus was allowing me to be humbled in the very place where he humbled himself by becoming man.

Then I walked a few steps over to the place where Jesus was laid in the manger. It was slightly less chaotic there. I stood there quietly for a few moments and said in my heart to Jesus, “I don’t know how to pray here. I don’t know what to think about in this place where you have lain.”

Immediately, an image came to my mind: I saw myself receiving the Eucharist. Then I understood, and exclaimed to Jesus, “Oh, I’ve experienced this before! You lay in me every time I receive Communion!”

At that moment I began to relax. The places I visited in the Holy Land were not actually foreign to me. I had already experienced these mysteries interiorly, in the liturgy, and in the mysteries of the church.

As I look back on the experience of our pilgrimage, I realize that I didn’t need to figure out how to think or how to pray. God was giving himself to me, and my job was to open to receive him. This is what he continues to do in every moment of our lives.

During this Feast of the Nativity, may we humbly accept our weaknesses, allowing them to be places where Jesus lays down in us so that we can give him to the world.

To descend to be raised up

Today we celebrate the feast of the Dormition (falling asleep) of the Mother of God. Now that I have been at the tomb of the Mother of God in the Garden of Gethsemane during our recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land, I was struck in a new way as we celebrated the feast.

I was especially moved by the phrase in bold in this first stichera at Vespers:

"O what a wonder! The Source of Life Itself is placed in a tomb; the grave becomes a ladder to heaven. Rejoice, Gethsemane, holy chamber of the Theotokos. As for us, O faithful, let us cry out with Gabriel, the prince of angels: Rejoice, O woman full of grace, the Lord is with you!--the Lord, who because of you bestows great mercy on our souls."

Why did it strike me? Take a look at the second photo to the right. These are the many steps descending into the church which contains the tomb of the Mother of God. (The people in the photo are only about half-way down the steps.) This, to me, is an image of Mary's humility. "For He has looked with favor upon the lowliness of His handmaiden..." (Lk 1:48a). In life, and in death, Mary embraces the littleness and poverty of her humanity, and God raises her up. "From this day forward, all generations will call me blessed" (Lk 1:48b).

Mary is an example to us of the daily dying to self which "becomes a ladder to heaven." When we descend the many steps down into the poverty within us and surrender our lives into the hands of God, He then raises us up to a new life of joy and freedom, ultimately in heaven, but even now in the Kingdom that has already begun.

Mother Cecilia

Transformed into the image of His Love

By the grace of God, a benefactor sponsored us to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, July 6-18. In the coming months, we will share reflections and photos from this life-changing experience. Here is the first of our reflections, written by Mother Gabriella for the occasion of the Feast of the Transfiguration.

During our recent trip to the Holy Land, I had the privilege of going so many places I never even dreamed of going.  Even though I read the itinerary ahead of time, every moment seemed to be a surprise from God!

Below this icon is the Stone of the Transfiguration

One of the feasts while we were there was for St. Veronica (July 12), who has been part of my journey for many years.  Tradition tells us that she was the woman with the flow of blood for 12 years that Jesus healed, which was a very important image for me during my discernment of monastic life and even now.  On the day of her feast, we began by riding to the top of Mount Tabor to an Orthodox monastery which has a piece of the rock where Christ was transfigured.  I didn’t have a particular excitement about the trip up the mountain – be it the jet lag, lack of sleep, or generally being overwhelmed by all the holy places we had been – but as soon as we got there, many of my sisters were very moved by the experience, so I thought, maybe I should get excited to be here!

Each of the nuns was blessed to receive an icon of the Transfiguration to touch to the stone where Jesus was transfigured and as I touched my icon to the stone, I prayed, “I want to be transfigured, so my life will show the change you have worked in my heart.” And I heard immediately from the Father, “You are transfigured,” in a very knowing voice, so I trusted He would let me know what that meant.

Praying at St. Veronica's Chapel in Jerusalem

Fast forward to the end of the day back in Jerusalem, one of my sisters had expressed interest in going to the sixth station to visit the chapel dedicated to St. Veronica in honor of her feast, so we headed out through the Old City to find it.  We arrived after a several minute walk and were blessed to find the church still open!  So we went in and were able to sing her tropar (hymn) in the chapel.  We also had a deacon friend with us who chanted all three gospels of the woman with the flow of blood and we ended with some quiet time to pray.  As I sat there praying, I meditated on the gospels we had just read and imagined myself as the tassel on Christ’s garment.  I don’t normally do imaginary prayer, but since that is where the Spirit led, that is where I followed.  As the scene played out in my mind, I could feel the power of Christ move through me to St. Veronica as she was healed and I was struck with a connection between Christ and St. Veronica I had not seen before – the importance of cloth and blood.  I saw how St. Veronica came to Jesus confident that He would heal her flow of blood, if she but touch the tassel of His garment.  And I saw Jesus, approaching St. Veronica during His passion, also bleeding and in need of comfort, seeking St. Veronica to wipe His flow of blood away with her veil.

This scene moved me to also desire to comfort Him, but I had no cloth to wipe His face.  I told Jesus this desire and He spoke to my heart that He had already given me something to use – my habit.  I gave Him myself already and He gave me this cloth, which He invisibly imprints His face upon for all to see everywhere I go.  In accepting my dependence and need, in laying down my life and receiving from Him, I had something to offer back to Him – the very clothes on my back, to comfort Him.  In comforting and receiving that imprint, I became transfigured – I became the very image of Him in the world – an icon of His love.  I became an image of heaven on earth – of what our life in heaven will look like, in union with Him forever.  So I prayed that His image would become more present in me, on me, through me, making me a living transfiguration – which was exactly what He said had already happened that very morning!

So as we encounter the Transfiguration anew today, let us all ask Jesus how we can offer ourselves to Him, to be further transformed into the image of His love for the world to see.

Happy Nun Pilgrims!

To be Consoled, or to Console?

By Sr. Iliana

As Jesus hung on the cross in utter anguish, struggling for every breath, He turned to the thief crucified to His right and said, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43). These words suddenly had deeper meaning for me when I found myself one day struggling to breathe in an emergency room. If any of you have ever struggled to breathe, you know the anxiety that this produces. I do admit I felt pretty anxious. I soon realized that I felt lonely, too, as if I had been abandoned. I hadn’t actually been abandoned, but that is how it felt. Due to a series of unforeseen events, I was there alone. The nurse who was caring for me was truly a dear, but she was a stranger to me, and I desired my loved ones to be there. Even though I knew in my mind that there was no need for them to come, my heart still desired for them to come. This is a very normal human reaction! When we’re suffering, we want to be consoled by our loved ones. We even want this when we’re not suffering. The first thing I do when I’m in a large crowd is scan the room for someone I know.

Jesus was actually abandoned by His friends. Of His twelve disciples, only John came to the foot of the cross. Peter denied Him, Judas betrayed Him, and all the others fled in sheer terror. Though His Mother was there, and a few women at a distance, His intimate friends abandoned Him as He foretold. Jesus must have felt truly abandoned. Jesus is fully human and He desires consolation just as we do.

Yet in the moment that all of humanity would most desire to be consoled, Jesus turns to the stranger at His side – the thief who had been mocking Him just moments before – and He consoles. He says, “Today you will be with me in paradise,” as if to say: “You are now as close to Me as possible. You are now a saint. You are about to be face to face with your Father who loves you. Between us is the most intimate friendship, the most intimate love.” He takes the stranger and brings him into intimate relationship with Himself, the same relationship He desires for each of us. Whereas I desired my intimate friends, Jesus makes the stranger His intimate friend.

When I was in the emergency room, I eventually stopped feeling sorry for myself, and began to talk to Kaitlyn, my nurse. She asked me to pray for her, and I was profoundly moved by our encounter. I even wondered if Jesus had allowed me to be sick just so that I could be there with Kaitlyn in that moment. Kaitlyn was a consolation to me. Imagine how much more Jesus was consoled to see the salvation of the thief at His side. The Lord wants to take us out of mere feelings and into true communion with Himself, so that in the moment of our utter darkness we can see the hand of God and be consoled – not because the darkness has now passed, but even in the midst of the darkness. The thief was still nailed to the cross in anguish when He received the greatest consolation of all – the promise of eternal life. As we face the trials of our life, as we pick up our crosses and follow Him, let us join St. Francis in praying, “Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console.”