The Way to the Father's House

The Apostle & Evangelist Matthew

A reflection and poem by Sr. Petra for the Sunday before Christmas:

This Sunday of the Ancestors of the Lord is given us to remind us that God deigns--nay, delights--to work through His creatures: so much so, that He chose to become a Man, complete with a lineage of flawed human forebearers. We should pay particular attention to the genealogy St. Matthew presents to us: it includes people with far-from-pristine pasts, stories riddled with suffering and sin. Tamar, wronged by her father-in-law Judah, connived to ensnare him in incest. Rahab (the mother of Boaz) was a harlot before she hid the Israelite spies who came to her city. Ruth was a Moabitess, a foreigner from an idolatrous people, yet she was the grandmother of Jesse and the great-grandmother of King David. Solomon, of course, was a fruit of the relationship between David and Bathsheba, which began in adultery and murder. In fact, some of these ancestors were so wicked that their names were blotted out of the Hebrew genealogies. Thus, Joram was not actually the father of Uzziah as Matthew writes in verse 8, but his great, great grandfather. Because Joram had married one of the idolatrous daughters of Jezebel, his family was under a curse! But the reality is that God chose to come from just such as these--and He still chooses to enter the world through our feeble humanity. Undaunted and undeterred by our sins and failures, He mercifully gathers them into His loving hands and works our good, and the salvation of the world. My spiritual father told me recently, "God loves, loves, LOVES to work through secondary causes. He would rather work through you than alone." This is the wonder of the Incarnation. This is the startling truth of our Faith: Despites our falls and failings, The Trinity works through us to open the way to the Father's House.

Tamar: Felix Culpa (Genesis 38)

[Felix Culpa means "Happy (or blessed) Fault"]

Wedded to one wicked

who was slain by the Lord,

given to his brother

who denied what was yours,

you returned a widow

to your father’s house.

You waited for the third

son of Judah to come

fulfill your desire

by giving you a son.

But the years stole your hope

in your father’s house.

Since you were forsaken

by your father-in-law,

you laid aside mourning,

his lustful seed to draw.

Draped in a harlot’s veil,

you left your father’s house.

By the road at Enaim

you sat and you waited.

He paid to come to you,

his urge to be sated.

By deceit you became

your father-in-law’s house.

After three months had passed,

it was told:  Judah learned

that you were with child.

He judged, “Let her be burned.”

Pregnant, you were led out

of your father’s house.

You sent him the tokens

he’d given you as pledge

of pay for using you

as you lay on the edge

of the road to Timnah,

beyond your father’s house.

Then Judah acknowledged

his sinful deeds with shame.

The life that you carried

would indeed share his name.

At last, you bore two sons

in their father’s house.

Tamar, woman bereft,

you stretched forth grasping hands

to seize your rightful fruit

and establish your land.

Yet through you came the way

to the Father’s House.

From the Monastery Library: "Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect"

A children's book recommendation by Mother Cecilia:

Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect

I discovered this delightful children’s book, by Richard H. Schneider, at my parents’ house last year when I was visiting. The first time I read it, I cried. Then, I brought it back to the monastery to read to my sisters, and I cried again! The story takes place in “a small kingdom far beyond the Carpathian Mountains” where a young tree named Small Pine is striving to continue growing perfectly so that it might be chosen some day to be the Christmas tree in the great hall of the queen. But what happens that winter to Small Pine will forever change the way that evergreen trees grow. And, it might change your heart too!  

"To hold the fire in your hand": St. Barlaam of Antioch

St. Barlaam of Antioch (d. 304): Feast day – November 19

By Sister Petra

My first year in the monastery, when I heard the story of St. Barlaam of Antioch read in our chapel before Vespers, I was captivated—tears came to my eyes, and a sense of exultation lifted my heart.  I re-read his story after the service, and began asking for his prayers from that day. Every year since then, I’m more deeply moved by this martyr and father in the Faith. And I’m realizing that, like me, most people have never heard of him.

His story begins in a fashion typical of the early martyrs; he stands out only for his age: Barlaam an old man, in his 90s. During the persecution of the Emperor Diocletian in 304, he was dragged before the governor and urged to cast incense before the pagan gods of the empire. Of course, he refused, so his captors devised a way to mock the elder: They placed burning coals and grains of incense in his hand, certain he would drop the embers, thereby allowing them to deride him by saying that he did, after all, cast incense before the gods. Instead, Barlaam responded with the stillness of faith: holding the burning coals in his hand, he stood unyielding as his hand burned away. Some accounts say he then rendered his spirit to the Lord, others that the governor, enraged, killed him. Either way, this martyr’s love was tried by fire and proved worthy.

St. Barlaam has a special significance for me in my vocation. He is an emblem of the faith and trust required to remain in the purifying fire of monastic life. He offers me an image of celibate love: to hold the fire in your hand in faithfulness, and to refuse to drop the fire under the pressure of our society. But, most of all, a line from a homily of St. John Chrysostom pierces my heart with the meaning of this saint’s sacrifice: He “was both the altar and the priest and the sacrifice.”  We—all of us, not only monastics—are called to offer as priests the sacrifice of our very selves on the altar of our bodies.  

Telling my spiritual father about this saint one day last year, I burst out, “It’s impossible—impossible! Nobody could do that! Nobody! Yet—he did!!!” By the power of the Holy Spirit burning in him, St. Barlaam scorned the enemy’s fire and entrusted himself, body and soul, to the Lover of Mankind. May each of us allow the same Spirit to consume us, that we, too, may be radiant torches testifying to the luminous reality of Divine Love.  

Note on this icon: This past summer, my friend Mother Pelahia worked with me on this icon of St. Barlaam of Antioch.  

Why-We-Give Wednesday

Enjoy this week of fun activities on our Facebook page leading up to our Virtual Bridegroom's Banquet this Sat. Nov. 7! Earlier today, for "Why-We-Give Wednesday," we read messages from three of our biggest benefactors on a live-streamed video. We also share them with you below. We are so grateful to these benefactors for their beautiful words, which will encourage us to persevere. And we are so grateful to all of our benefactors, and to those who cannot give in a material way but who pray with and for us.

The Virtual Bridegroom's Banquet is our online benefit event that includes live-streamed Vespers, the premier of our new video: "Bethany: Supporting Spiritual Fatherhood," and a chance for your donation to be doubled! Please visit the event page for more information.

#1

We support Christ the Bridegroom Monastery because we all need this community of faithful prayer to continue and grow. The world needs to see that not all nuns are stern and forbidding, or solemn and sorrowful. These brides of Christ are joyful, loving and full of fun. They make it clear that, like Christ, they love you with all your faults and failings. You know this for sure when they hug you. Their poustinias provide a refuge for people to be alone and encounter God. Their hospitality is unbounded. They have nothing but what they are given, but they take that gift, bless it, and multiply it for a starving world.

#2

There are very few places in this busy world where we can go find silence.  And even in those places of silence, fewer still are those that are specifically created to bring the silence of listening to the voice of God.  Christ the Bridegroom Monastery is one of those places.  I suspect that each person who has had the wonderful opportunity of spending time at the Monastery will have a story of meeting God in silence.  And finding that same peace in some way reflected in the nuns of Christ the Bridegroom Monastery.  My story is simply one of many. 

 I believe that God is working here, at the monastery, in ways that are distinct.  And powerful.  I believe that God has created this place of silence as a refuge from the world of distractions that we have created around us.  This monastery is not a “nice to have” – it is critically imperative for the sustainment of the Christianity that has been passed down to us by our Holy Fathers.  I believe that it was for this reason the Desert Fathers left the comforts of the cities to enter the desert.  To secure the Christianity that flourishes in quiet and sacrifice.  To experience God’s grace rather than just our personal comfort.

 It is a privilege for me to support Christ the Bridegroom Monastery.  I am thankful to God for the role that the nuns play in my life.  I am hopeful that we will have a long and Christ-filled relationship for many years to come!

#3

It is no coincidence that God has given us a beautiful gift to increase and enrich our spirituality, but one that is also dependent on us to sustain it.  Christ the Bridegroom Monastery has had an enormous impact on the spiritual development of many parishioners, priests, seminarians and religious, both in the Roman Catholic Church as well as the Byzantine Church, throughout the United States and Canada.  To sustain themselves they are totally dependent on the gracious financial contributions of those around them.

There is another reason we support the Monastery.  It is impossible not to fall in love with these nuns.  There is something about them, their pure hearts, their kindness, their joy, their selflessness, and their love for God and His people.  We can’t get them to say an unkind remark about anyone, even a politician, even after drinking a bit of scotch (and the Lord knows I’ve tried).  They see the goodness in people, that part of us that is made in the image and likeness of God.  They are patient with our failings and faults, like a mother with her child.

Finally, there is one more thing we should notice about this Monastery.  Haven’t you wondered how someone could pray for 5 or 6 hours a day or more.  Recently a missionary priest explained to me that prayer is a grace we receive from God.  We need to pray for this, and God will give us the grace to pray as we should.  Christ the Bridegroom Monastery is a powerful witness to that spirituality and the impact it can have on a world in desperate need of the graces extending from it.  Bishop Robert Barron in his Catholicism series, points out how Hur and Aaron supporting Moses’ arms as he prays over the battle between the Israelites and Amalekites, is a beautiful depiction of the Church.  Like Hur and Aaron, we laity play an essential part in God’s plan by supporting these nuns so they are able to pray for our salvation.

Meet-the-Nuns Monday

Enjoy this week of fun activities on our Facebook page leading up to our Virtual Bridegroom's Banquet this Sat. Nov. 7! Today's posts for "Meet-the-Nuns Monday" are compiled below. The Virtual Bridegroom's Banquet is our online benefit event that includes live-streamed Vespers, the premier of our new video: "Bethany: Supporting Spiritual Fatherhood," and a chance for your donation to be doubled! Please visit the event page for more information.

Mother Theodora

Patron saint: Blessed Theodore Romzha

Feast day: October 31

A few of my saint friends: St. John Paul II, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Augustine, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Elizabeth the New Martyr, St. Martha of Bethany, St. Mary of Egypt, St. Symeon the New Theologian

Interests: Sacred Scripture, Iconography, Gardening, Canning, Painting, Cooking, Sewing

One of my favorite quotes: "I belong to my Lover, and for me He yearns." Song of Songs 7:11

An Interesting fact: I used to teach ballroom dancing.

Where I grew up: Niles, Ohio

Mother Cecilia

Patron saint: St. Cecilia, virgin-martyr of Rome

Feast day: Nov. 22

A few of my saint friends: St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, St. John the Baptist, St. John of the Cross, St. Anthony of the Desert, St. Porphyrios of Kafsokalivia, St. Mary of Bethany, St. John Paul II

Interests: Prayer, silence, nature, taking walks with Jesus, writing poetry, painting icons, watercolors, camping, skiing, photography, saints, spiritual motherhood, adventures.

One of my favorite quotes: (A story from the desert fathers) Abba Lot came to Abba Joseph and said: “Father, according as I am able, I keep my little rule, and my little fast, my prayer, meditation and contemplative silence; and, according as I am able, I strive to cleanse my heart of thoughts: now what more should I do?” The elder rose up in reply and stretched out his hands to heaven, and his fingers became like ten lamps of fire. He said: “Why not become fire?”

An interesting fact: So far, I am the only nun in the monastery named after a female saint!

Where I grew up: North Royalton, Ohio (near Cleveland)

Mother Gabriella

Patron saint: St. Gabriel the Archangel

Feast day: July 13 - Synaxis of St. Gabriel

A few of my saint friends: St. Dorotheos of Gaza, St. Francis de Sales, St. Jane Frances de Chantal, St. Teresa of Avila, Servant of God Catherine Doherty, Servant of God Walter Ciszek, Servant of God Fulton Sheen

Interests: Hiking, kayaking, reading, painting icons, The Awkward Yeti, Calvin and Hobbes, hugs, watching sports, people!

One of my favorite quotes: Relying on God has to begin again everyday as if nothing had yet been done. -C.S. Lewis

An interesting fact: I was at St. John Paul II's beatification AND canonization! 

Where I grew up: New Franklin, Ohio (near Akron, Ohio)

Mother Iliana

Patron saint: St. Elias (aka the prophet Elijah...you can read about him in lots of places in the Bible)

Feast day: July 20

A few of my saint friends: St. Thérèse of Lisieux, St. Teresa of Calcutta, St. Pio of Pietrelcina, St. Philip Neri, St. John the Beloved, St. Peter the Apostle, Hosea the Prophet, St. Michael the Archangel, because each of these saints has touched my life in a very particular way and drawn me to receive the Father's love.

Interests: Ask any of the nuns and they'll tell you, I have a lot of "favorites!" That means, I also have a lot of interests (which are my favorites). I'm interested in all things beautiful and have loved art since before I can remember. I love drawing, watercolor, and painting icons, or going to the art museum to see everything (with a soft spot for French Impressionism). Baby faces, fall leaves, and sunsets cause me physical pain (because they are beautiful). I'm also always interested in eating ice cream and talking about prayer, saints’ lives, and funny stories. I love swimming, braiding hair, and watching movies or documentaries. I love to be outside whenever possible, especially hiking in the woods, and to laugh. I also love reading lots of books especially ones by Michael D.O'Brien and Elizabeth Goudge)! I should probably stop now, as I've only listed about the first 0.005% of my favorite things.

One of my favorite quotes: Some monks came to see Abba Poemen and said to him: "Tell us, when we see brothers dozing during the sacred office, should we pinch them so they will stay awake?" The old man said to them: "Actually, if I saw a brother sleeping, I would put his head on my knees and let him rest."

An interesting fact: When I was a kid I would watch a Mother Teresa of Calcutta documentary (the 1986 one narrated by Sir Richard Attenborough) religiously (pun intended), probably hundreds of times. I'm not sure, I just remember being obsessed. I was drawn to her love for God in a powerful way and I remember aching for His love when I watched. In 1996, when I was just a teen, I had the chance to meet Mother Teresa. I happened to be at the right place and right time and she held my hands and spoke with me. I'm completely convinced that she's praying for me in my vocation today.

Where I grew up: Silver Spring, MD

Sister Natalia

Patron saint: St. Nathanael (Bartholomew) the apostle

Feast day: June 11 in the east, August 24 in the west

A few of my saint friends: St. Photina, St. Mary of Egypt, Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassatti, Bl. Bishop Theodore Romzha, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Ephraim, St. Nicholas

Interests: Reading, Hiking (especially 14ers), Climbing trees (or anything, really), Watching Star Trek

One of my favorite quotes: "God is not a deceiver, that he should offer to support us, and then, when we lean upon him, should slip away from us." -St. Augustine

An interesting fact: I lived in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba for two years!

Where I grew up: I've moved over twenty times, but my last (and favorite) residence before entering the monastery was Colorado. 

Sister Petra

Patron saint:  St. Peter the Apostle

Feast day:  St. Peter in Chains (January 16)

A few of my saint friends:  St. John Henry Newman, St. Thomas More, Julian of Norwich, St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, St. Joseph, St. Barlaam of Antioch.

Interests: Reading, Gospel Nonviolence, the Inklings, England, hiking and biking

One of my favorite quotes:  "Therefore I will trust Him.  Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away.  If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.  My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us.  He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life, He may shorten it; He knows what He is about.  He may take away my friends, He may throw me among strangers, He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me--still He knows what He is about." (St. John Henry Newman)

An interesting fact:  Raised Wesleyan, I was received into the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil in 2009.  Since then, I have made four pilgrimages:  an Inklings pilgrimage to Oxford, England; a Flannery O'Connor pilgrimage to Milledgeville, Georgia; a St. Joseph pilgrimage to L'Oratoire de Saint-Joseph du Mont Royal in Montreal; and a Holy Land pilgrimage with all the nuns.  Before I die, I hope to make pilgrimages to see the tilma of the Virgin of Guadalupe, pray at the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham in England, and walk the Camino de Santiago.

Where I grew up: Indiana

Rest in Your Heart's Foundation

Are you feeling a bit lost, uprooted, unsettled or divided lately? Take a minute to read (and then pray about) this reflection from the book, "This is the Day the Lord Has Made: 365 Daily Meditations," by Fr. Wilfrid Stinissen, O.C.D. (Aug. 17 meditation):

Rest in Your Heart's Foundation

"The depth of the human heart can't be measured. Its very nature is infinite, as it is rooted in the infinity of God. Your life has full meaning only if you try to discover the depth of your heart, the center of your being.

Ephraim the Syrian (306-373) says that when God created us, he put all of heaven in the depths of our hearts. Our task is to dig sufficiently deep to discover the hidden treasure we carry.

God can only be found if you search for the secret room in the depths of your being. If you dig deep into yourself, you will find the gate to the reign of God, and God Himself will stand at the gate and wait for you. The best way to dig is by daily reserving time for interior prayer.

When you have finally found your heart, you need to try to remain in it, live in it. This is not easy. The various tasks in life often force us to live with our attention far from our heart. But if you are rooted in your center, it doesn't need to be divisive to use the mind and the attention to do what the tasks of the day demand. Your heart is the foundation upon which all of your interior and exterior abilities rest, and, in the midst of all these external preoccupations, your heart can be rooted in God's infinity and silence."

Poem for the Feast of the Apostle Matthias

Sometimes in the Byzantine Tradition we celebrate many things at once. It makes setting up for the services rather complicated, because the liturgical typikon (instruction manual for the daily liturgical services) prescribes that we pray particular sections of the texts for each of the things we are celebrating, but it is a joy to celebrate them all! Today is the 10th Sunday after Pentecost, so we celebrate the Resurrection with joy as we do every Sunday, and it falls during the post-festive period of the Transfiguration, so we continue to celebrate this great feast, and it is the feast of the Apostle Matthias! In honor of St. Matthias, here is a poem written by Sr. Natalia. Enjoy!

Fear of Being Chosen

O Matthias, what did you think,

what did you feel,

when you were beckoned forward?

Did your heart race at the idea

of joining ranks with those eleven?

Eleven different types of broken,

all seeking to be whole.

Did you fear the possibility

of secret brokenness revealed?

And did you also feel

the thrill of sure adventure,

after having seen the ups and downs

of the men whose eyes were now on you?

You’d seen their pain, their dying,

and in your heart felt a pull.

One thing you must have known,

known without a doubt:

being witness to the resurrection

would mean a life of miracles.

And when you heard your name called out,

and reality sunk in,

did you feel that joyful pain of knowing

that all now know that you are His?

Did your thoughts bounce back and forth

between death and resurrection?

And did you steal one more glance

at Joseph Barsabbas

and wonder, “Why not him?”

The gift of monastics during the pandemic

Below is a beautiful letter by a bishop in Italy to monastics (in particular, fully cloistered ones) during this pandemic time. In actuality, it is a letter to everyone, pointing out the profound and timely lessons that monastics can teach us by the witness of their lives.

Before we get to the letter, here is a link to some videos and other resources for the Sunday of the Man Born Blind, and here is a quote from the liturgical typikon arranged by Fr. David Petras:

"Jesus anointed the eyes of the Man Born Blind, and he was enlightened, professing Jesus to be his Lord. He is an image of our baptisms, when we are enlightened out of darkness by the anointing of the chrism of the Holy Spirit. We remember the salvation of the Man Born Blind and our own enlightenment as we close the Feast of the glorious Resurrection of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ."

A letter by Bishop Aiello of Avellino:

Monastics’ gift to Italy

Letter to the nuns and monks:

We turn to you, sisters and brother monks, to ask for your prayers, to support your raised arms, like those of Moses on the mountain, in this time of particular danger and unease for our communities: by your persistent prayerful intercession, we acquire resilience and future victory.

You are the only ones who do not move a facial muscle in the face of the rain of decrees and restrictive measures that rain on us these days because what we are asked for, for some time you have always done it and what we suffer you have chosen.

Teach us the art of being content living  with nothing, in a small space, without going out, yet engaged in internal journeys that do not need planes and trains.

“Give us your oil” to understand that the spirit cannot be imprisoned, and the narrower the space, the wider the skies open.

Reassure us that you can live even for a short time and be joyful, remember that poverty is the unavoidable condition of every being because, as Don Primo Mazzolari said, “being a man is enough to be a poor man”.

Give us back the ability to savor the little things you who smile of a blooming lilac at the cell window and greet a swallow that comes to say that spring has come, you who are moved by a pain and still exulted by the miracle of the bread that is baked in the oven.

Tell us that it is possible to be together without being crowded together, to correspond from afar, to kiss without touching each other, to touch each other with the caress of a look or a smile, or simply … a gaze at each other.

Remind us that a word is important if it is reflected upon, ruminated within the heart for a period of time, leavened in the soul’s recesses, seen blooming on the lips of another, called a low voice, not shouted or cutting because of hurt.

But, even more, teach us the art of silence, of the light that rests on the windowsill, of the sun rising “as a bridegroom coming out of the bridal room” or setting “in the sky that tinges with fire”, of the quiet of the evening, of the candle lit that casts shadows on the walls of the choir.

Tell us that it is possible to wait for a hug even for a lifetime because “there is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embraces,” says Qoelet. President Conte said that at the end of this time of danger and restrictions we will still embrace each other in the feast, for you there are still twenty, thirty, forty years to wait …

Educate us to do things slowly, solemnly, without haste, paying attention to details because every day is a miracle, every meeting a gift, every step a step in the throne room, the movement of a dance or a symphony.

Whisper to us that it is important to wait, postpone a kiss, a gift, a caress, a word, because waiting for a feast increases its brilliance and “the best is yet to come”.

Help us understand that an accident can be a grace and a sorrow can hide a gift, a departure can increase affection and a distance that can finally lead us to encounter and communion.

To you, teachers and masters of the hidden and happy life, we entrust our uneasiness, our fears, our remorse, our missed appointments with God who always awaits us, you take everything in your prayer and give it back to us in joy, in a bouquet of flowers and peaceful days. Amen.

Reflections for the Sunday of the Samaritan Woman

Enjoy these two reflections:

1. Video reflection from Bishop Milan and resources for prayer at home

2. Reflection from Sr. Petra:

You ask her for a drink—not because You need anything from her (even in Your humanity:  presumably Your disciples would soon return with drink, as well as food)—in order to open the dialogue between you, to gently entice her heart to open to Yours.  You are here initiating…

She responds to Your request for a drink with some bewilderment:  It doesn’t make sense socially or religiously for You to speak to her.  In inviting us—to pray, to respond to our vocations, to seek union—we also feel the dissonance between our view of the world (and of ourselves) and what You’re doing.

You lead her further…  “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked Him and He would have given you living water.”  You’re opening before her another way, another path:  her response to Your request could be like a doorway.  You’re offering a quenching to her thirst that goes beyond this world, deeper than the desires of mere flesh.  You’re letting a ray of Your identity penetrate her darkness—begging her to ask the question:  Who are You?

She responds accordingly, curious in her thirst.  How will You do this, having nothing with which to draw water?  Are You greater than Jacob?  She wants, needs, further revelation and reassurance before she opens herself to You.  The burden of action is back on Your shoulders.  She responds, but You must direct this encounter.

And yet, for all Your leading, Your reply isn’t really an answer to her questions.  “Every one who drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst; the water that I shall give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  You’ve gently lifted her desire heavenward.  For a moment, she forgets her puny, earthly questions.  You’ve danced with her into the realm of the Spirit.

She responds from a heart moved beyond worldly constraints.  Eyes off herself, no longer weighing You against logic, her heart cries in eager hope, “Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw!”  She wants freed from more than the inconvenience of drawing water:  She aches to be free of the shame that enfolds her as she walks to the well alone in the heat of the day, in order to avoid the condemnation of the “respectable” women.

Knowing the throbbing wound behind her request, You go there, knocking on the door behind which her shame crouches.  “Go, call your husband and come here.”  You aren’t playing with her, or tricking her into confessing for legal necessity.  You are moving to open her capacity to receive You, this gift You are.

“I have no husband.”  She can’t bring herself to unveil the painful truth.  At that point, such a confession is beyond her ability to utter.  And so—You do it for her, relieving her of the burden:  “You are right…”  And You speak the terrible truth of her deeds:  they take form between you.  This must be; there is no other way to union. 

She tries to deflect this solid history, to remove herself—her heart—from the conversation.  “Lord, I perceive You are a prophet.”  Then she turns to the shield of theological controversy, a vain effort to cover her spiritual nakedness.  She implies a concrete, external question (where is the proper place to worship?).  Is she also trying to robe herself in the illusion of respectability?  See, she seems to say, I care about such things!  Perhaps she’s also trying to distance herself from You in self-protection, by bringing to the fore all the deep divisions between you, Jewish Man, and Samaritan woman.

You move through that strategy as though through a spider’s web, guiding her back to the heart of this whole exchange, to Your Heart for her:  to worship, the restoration of man’s union with God.  “But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth…”  You reply to her query as though, yes, worship has significance even for her, fallen as she is.  Once more, she retreats.  “I know that Messiah is coming; when he comes, he will show us all things.”  As though to say, I don’t need to deal with this now.  Let it wait for another day.

The urgency of Your love—the Truth—pierces her last defense.  Heedless of the shame that bound her minutes before, she rushes into town, bearing witness.  Many come to believe in You because of her testimony—because You sought her in love, pursuing her gently yet inexorably.  You are not rebuffed by our resistance.  Again and again, You move to woo Your bride.  Locked in our prisons of shame, pain, and sin, we can’t reach You, we can’t seek You.  So You seek us.  You knock on the door of our cells and offer the key of love—love unto death, Love that trampled Death, the jailer of our souls.

When I feel the lie that it all depends on me, remind me, Lover of Mankind, that You’ve taken the lead, You’re taking the lead, and You’re leading me back to the Garden where we may drink deeply of Love.

A guide for praying at home during this Holy Week & Pascha!

Holy Week and Pascha (Easter) without being able to go to church??? Nuns to the rescue. Our monastery is just a little family, not so unlike yours, living the life of the Church in an intense way. We are here to help give Byzantine families/couples ideas and resources for Holy Week and Pascha for your domestic church (the church of your home), because the Resurrection isn’t cancelled! We need to remember now more than ever the hope we have in Christ’s destruction of death and His gift of eternal life. This current crisis is an opportunity to revive our domestic churches and begin to pray (or pray more) as a family/couple and individually. And, when we pray, we must remember that the whole Body of Christ—the Church, is with us.

We are excited to share with you this project we've been working on for the past week! Please share it quickly with others, in time for Holy Week to begin! God bless you!

A poem during the pandemic

An Acceptable Time*

Lord, help us to find You
waiting in our souls,
when Bread is withheld and
Your Voice falls silent.

In this desert darkness,
may the invisible glow of
Your indwelling Presence
enfold us in hope.

You are not removed,
cannot be kept from us.
Closer than our own selves,
You’re buried in our hearts.

Teach us to keep vigil
with You in the Garden,
to surrender—not my will—
in trust that our tears water

other gardens, a million gardens
that have lain dormant
in our dust.  We submit
to this pruning.

Bring forth a harvest
for Your Church, renew us
in the faith that God is with us:
We cannot be shaken.*

*Title taken from Isaiah 49:8 (Douay-Rheims and KJV--rendered in modern translations as "a time of favor").  The last lines allude to Psalm 46/45, v. 5  "God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved".

--Sr. Petra

An open letter to the faithful: A Eucharistic "fast"

Beloved brothers and sisters in the Lord,

I have been praying for all of you, especially during this Great Fast, during this time of turmoil in the country, in the Church and in the world.  I believe I have a message of hope to share with you, which I pray is from Our Father.  Please allow me to share my reactions to the current situation in the Church, as well as the light I believe that God has given me to accept and find grace during this time.

Over the past week, our country has plunged into a radical reactionism unlike anything I have experienced in my 33 years of life.  Over the course of several days, precautions have been taken and bans put in place to slow the spread of COVID-19, commonly spoken of as the coronavirus, which has been labeled a pandemic.  It seemed like each day, there were more freedoms limited, more opportunities taken away--most especially, our freedom to worship the Lord at Mass and the Divine Liturgy.  As a nun, this was a great pain for me.  During the Great Fast in the Byzantine Tradition, we fast from the consecration of the Eucharist on weekdays, but the Church in her wisdom, knows that we cannot fast from the Bridegroom completely, so she prescribes what is called "The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts," which is a communion service with Jesus’ Precious Body consecrated on the previous Sunday given to the faithful in the context of Vespers, or evening prayer.  But now, in the current state of affairs, we will also abstain from this--and even from the Sunday celebration of the Divine Liturgy.

My first reaction was anger and frustration.  How can the bishops do this?  How can it be good for the faithful to be without the sacraments or public worship, especially during this difficult time?  How can we conceivably cancel Holy Week and Pascha (Easter)?! Perhaps some of you can relate to these sentiments--or have felt them yourselves.

As I was shopping this past week to prepare for a three-week self-quarantine at the monastery, in an attempt to protect our immuno-compromised sisters, I felt all these feelings welling up within me.  As I turned to the Father in the midst of this seeming "apocalypse shopping," I felt His overwhelming presence and invitation to trust.  In His goodness, I also felt Him place upon my heart an answer to my question.  Not the question I asked of, "Why is this happening?"  But the deeper question of, "What am I supposed to do?"  The response was staggeringly simple.  “Consent.”

“Ok, Father.  You are asking me to consent.  To trust that You are at work in the request of our bishops.  To give my ‘yes’ to that which I would not choose for myself.  Yes, Father.  I consent.”

As this prayer tumbled around in my heart while I moved 50-pound bags of rice, I also became aware of a deeper reality.  My consent was to bear fruit!  I saw another invitation--to offer my ache to receive Him in reparation and repentance for those who do not receive Him worthily.  My pain was becoming fruitful before my eyes!  I saw a great opportunity to offer my own living sacrifice--a contrite heart--which the Lord will not refuse.  As my spiritual father has often told me, we don’t need to seek out penance--our lives and vocations will present us with the penance and suffering that God desires for us.  Since I believe this to be true, I see the invitation of this Great Fast and Pascha to enter into an Even Greater Fast--from the very sacraments that bring me into contact with God’s presence--because God is allowing this to happen and asking me to consent.  And you, too. 

In a sense, we now know for sure what the Father is asking us to give up for the Great Fast--and it’s not just chocolate!!  Though we continue with our other observances for the Great Fast, there is more He is asking.

I believe this is precisely the purification that we need--as a culture and Church in America.  We need to know Who we receive in the Eucharist.  We need to know that He is God, and we are not.  We need to fast from our need to control--to have things ‘on demand’--even sacraments .  We need to allow this purification to drive us inward in the right way--to the presence of God in each of us.  To learn to pray.  To seek relationship with the Trinity.  We need to learn to pray as a family, to make God’s love present in our homes.

So, I make a radical request of you, dear brothers and sisters.  I ask you to share in the Father’s request of me, the request He is making of each of us, to "consent."  Consent to the situation that God has placed us.  Pray for our bishops and trust their discernment.  Pray intentionally in your hearts and in your homes for our Church and for the whole world during this time of crisis.  Allow your ache for Him to be fruitful.  In this time of cleansing our bodies to remain free from COVID-19, allow the Father to purify your soul from the virus of pride, self-love, self-determination and control.  And trust that the Father will be faithful and bring more good than we can imagine out of what seems to be evil.

I am praying for all of you and I love you.

In Christ’s Heart,
Mother Gabriella

“If you say ‘yes,’ everyone will see!” (Mother Cecilia’s Vocation Story)

Happy Feast of the Meeting of Our Lord with Sts. Simeon and Anna! (Also called the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple) Today is also World Day for Consecrated Life. In honor of this celebration, here is Mother Cecilia's vocation story. (Mother Theodora's story can be found here. We will post other stories in the future!)

When I was born, my parents gave me the name Julie. Three months later, my parents took me to my dad’s Byzantine Catholic church to have me baptized. When the priest asked during the baptism, “What saint is this child to be named after?,” my mom, a protestant who knew very little about saints, was speechless.  My godmother stepped in: “Saint Julie!” she said.

Sometime later, my mother, being a good Baptist, took me to her church to “dedicate” me to God. (Baptists do not baptize infants, waiting for the person to make his or her own choice, but they instead offer their children to God in a dedication ceremony.) She told me years later that when she did this, she “really meant it!”

I don’t remember attending my mom’s Baptist church every other Sunday as a young child. My mom became Byzantine Catholic when I was seven, and from then on the whole family was immersed solely in the faith, traditions and beauty of the Byzantine Church. I grew into my faith alongside of my mom, who became more on fire each year as she discovered more gems of the faith. Under the leadership of both of my parents, our family was very involved in the life of the parish, especially in its spiritual and educational dimensions.

During middle school and as I started high school, I thought of myself as a good Catholic, but God wasn’t yet totally real to me or the passion and love of my life. Throughout those years I was very insecure and struggled to fit in with my chosen group of friends. The summer after my sophomore year in high school I attended the national ByzanTEEN Youth Rally at Mt. St. Macrina in Uniontown, Pa.  I made some friends, learned a lot in the talks and was having a great time, but near the end of the weekend I again found myself in my typical state of insecurity and loneliness. Earlier in the weekend I had learned about the Jesus Prayer, and in the midst of my desolation I decided to give it a try. I was stunned to be immediately filled with an overwhelming peace and joy that had absolutely nothing to do with the acceptance of my peers. In that small moment I had opened the door of my heart to God, and my life was completely changed.

I continued to have many of my usual struggles when I went back to my public high school that fall, but I had found my value as a daughter of God. I began to make time each day for prayer, and I took the initiative to learn everything I could about my faith. That fall I also convinced my family to attend the annual pilgrimage at Mt. St. Macrina, which I heard about during the youth rally. We drove down for the day on Sunday, and while we were there I must have repeatedly mentioned that I wanted to talk to Sr. Celeste, the nun who facilitated the youth rally. “Well, go talk to her!” my mom said. But I didn’t know what to say; I just wanted to be around her. Finally, before the evening was over, my dad walked over to Sr. Celeste and introduced my family. I recall that we talked about the beautiful weather! I didn’t know at the time that this attraction was one of the first signs of my vocation.

The sisters at Mt. St. Macrina were the first religious sisters I had ever met, and it wasn’t until high school that the thought of religious life occurred to me as a possibility, maybe while reading the autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. During my senior year, my pastor started to slip discernment retreat brochures into my mail slot at the church. I was shocked but honored that he thought I might be called to religious life. I didn’t look into attending them…at first.

As high school came to an end, I made the decision to attend The University of Akron for financial reasons, even though I had set my heart on attending Franciscan University of Steubenville. It turned out that God knew what He was doing (as He always does!) by leading me to Akron.

During my first semester of college I decided to attend a discernment retreat with the Sisters of St. Basil the Great at Mt. St. Macrina. I loved the experience. It was the first time I had spent time with religious sisters, and I found out that they were very “normal” people, who laughed and liked to have fun. However, when I returned to school, it wasn’t long before I started spending time with a great Catholic guy from our Newman Center (the Catholic group on campus). We frequently attended the daily noon Mass together at St. Bernard’s, the Roman Catholic church just off campus, and started dating in December. I quickly threw aside any thoughts about religious life.

I loved college and was quickly growing into the person God had created me to be. I was surprised to meet other devoted Catholic students and made lots of wonderful friends. And to my great surprise, God called me to leadership roles as I sought to develop a more authentic and dynamic Catholic atmosphere at the Newman Center and as I helped my new friend Jessie to establish a Students for Life group on campus. For my remaining years in college I served as president of our Newman Center and vice-president of Students for Life (Jessie holding the corresponding roles!). I started working at the local Right to Life office and found my niche using the communication and design skills I was learning for the glory of God.

About eight months after we started dating, my boyfriend broke up with me. As a typical heartbroken girl, I thought my life was over! Later on, I read back over my journal entries during the time that we were dating and was surprised to discover that I wrote about the sense of “something more” to which I felt called. I didn’t understand, at the time, what it was.

That fall I attended another discernment retreat at Mt. St. Macrina. Again, I enjoyed the experience. The following spring the sisters were holding a discernment retreat in Phoenix, Arizona. I wanted to go, mostly because I had never been to Arizona and I knew it would be nice and warm! However, I knew I couldn’t go because of the cost of a plane ticket. But then one evening, the vocation director, Sr. Barbara Jean, called me up and said, “Someone has offered to pay for your trip. Would you like to go?” I heartily agreed.

On the plane I realized that although I was excited to go to Phoenix, I should also be serious about praying about my vocation. On Saturday morning we were praying Matins (morning prayer) in the little chapel of the retreat center. I was so at peace. I stayed in the chapel after everyone left. I stretched my hands out from each side of me with my palms facing upwards, in an act of surrender to God. As I stood there with my eyes closed, it felt like my arms were rising up on their own. I immediately pulled my arms back down to my body with the thought, “I don’t want anyone to see!” And within me I clearly sensed the Holy Spirit saying, “If you say ‘yes,’ everyone will see.” I knew that the Lord wasn’t talking about my hands; I assumed that He meant that if I entered religious life, everyone would see the decision I had made. I was at peace with that.

I was quite sure after this experience that God was calling me to religious life, but He knows me so well that He knew He would have to pull off something even more dramatic to impress the point upon me forever!

Holy Week was beginning as I returned to school after the retreat. In my prayer that week, the thought occurred to me that I should take note of the calendar date of that experience in the retreat house chapel and remember it. If it was true that I was really being called to religious life, I figured that this date would be important to me.  So I repeated it in my mind: “April 8th…April 8th.” 

On Holy Wednesday I repeated the date “April 8th” to myself as I prayed after Mass and then headed over to the Catholic book store near the church to look for a gift for a friend who would be entering the Catholic Church during the Easter Vigil. In the store, I walked straight over to the book aisle, not necessarily to buy one for my friend, but just because I love books! One book caught my eye and I pulled it off the shelf. It was about naming children after the saints, and it listed hundreds of saints and their feast days. I immediately thought of Sr. Barbara Jean’s vocation story, in which she explains how she heard the call to religious life on her feast day—a day on which she had made the annual habit of doing something special for herself and taking extra time for prayer. I thought to myself, “I should look up St. Julie and find out when her feast day is, so that I can make that day special too.” Previously, I had chosen St. Julie Billiart as my patron, since she was the only “St. Julie” I found, as opposed to “St. Julia.” So I flipped through the book and found St. Julie Billiart, and I froze, staring in shock at the page. Her feast day was April 8th! The tears started running down my face. “Lord, You want me?” I prayed in joy. “I’m so honored that You want me as Your bride!”

In a daze of joy, I found a gift for my friend and practically skipped back up campus (at least spiritually!). It was a warm day, but halfway to where I was going, the sky opened up and it poured! I started to run but couldn’t in my wet flip flops, so I took them off and ran barefoot into the nearest building, laughing out loud. God showered me with love in that rain by blessing me with a childhood joy of running in downpours!

It was difficult for me to tell my parents, family and friends about the call I had heard. Becoming a nun isn’t exactly a standard “career path.” How could I explain the intimate love I shared with Jesus which had led me to say “yes” to His invitation to be His bride? To my surprise, those in whom I confided were completely supportive. After a few months of joy mixed with inner turmoil, I began the application process with the Sisters of St. Basil. On the feast of the Dormition (August 15, 2006), I was accepted as an “affiliate” for a period of formal discernment before applying to be accepted into the community. I spent my last two years of college as an affiliate, visiting the sisters when I could, while remaining very active on campus, at Right to Life, at St. Bernard’s and in my home parish. I often wondered if God was calling me to the Roman Catholic Church, because of the youthfulness and zeal I found there, but it was during this time that I began attending weekly young adult gatherings at my bishop’s residence. It was in praying Vespers (evening prayer) with Bishop John Kudrick and these faithful, energetic young adults, that I realized that my beloved Byzantine Church was still alive and that God was asking me to be a part of its revitalization.

In January of 2008, before beginning my last semester of college, I made my longest visit with the Sisters of St. Basil and spoke to them about formally applying. However, God had other plans. Shortly after I returned from my visit, I read a letter that Bishop John had just published about his vision for establishing a men’s or women’s monastery (or both) in the Eparchy of Parma. He quoted from St. John Paul II’s apostolic letter Orientale Lumen (Light of the East), in which the pope wrote of the beauty and necessity of traditional Eastern monasticism, calling for its revitalization. With every word of that letter, my heart was “burning within me.” I simply knew that this was what I desired and what God wanted for me.

Without much hesitation, but also without any confirmation that this new monastery was even possible, I wrote to Bishop John of my interest. At that moment began a new journey of trust in God’s providence and wisdom. To my joy, I learned that Sr. Celeste (now Mother Theodora), the sister to whom I was so attracted during that first visit to Mt. St. Macrina, and who I had come to know better since that time, had discerned that it was God’s will for her to found this new monastery. I did what I could to journey with her through the struggle and complete surrender to God that was required in seeking exclaustration (a leave of absence from her community) and moving to the Eparchy of Parma (in December of 2008) even before the house that was given to us for our monastery was ready to live in! In February of 2009, I moved in with Sr. Celeste into the empty rectory at St. John’s in Solon where she was temporarily living, and on April 3, 2009, we moved into our new monastery on Mumford Road in Burton, Ohio…drywall dust from renovations still floating in the air! As we prayed for the first time in our monastery—Matins, that first morning—I cried tears of joy as I realized that this was Matins for the same liturgical day (Lazarus Saturday) as it had been on April 8, 2006, the moment that God revealed the gift of my vocation to me.

My close friend from college, Jessie, with whom I had stepped out in faith in so many ways during college, became the next woman to join our monastery (now Mother Gabriella). We laugh when we talk about the fact that writing the constitution for Students for Life was practice for writing our monastic typikon (rule)! If becoming a nun isn’t a standard “career path,” becoming a nun and starting a new monastery is even more absurd, yet this is the way God has chosen to love me, and this is the way He desires for me to love Him.

At the dawn of my life I was baptized into Divine Life, “dedicated” to God, and named after a saint who would help me to realize my vocation (and one who knows what it is like to establish a new community!—St. Julie Billiart founded the Sisters of Notre Dame).

At the dawn of my monastic life, I was named after another saint, one who would (and continues to) help me understand my vocation and to live it. On September 30, 2012, I was tonsured as a rasophore (“robe-bearer”) nun and received the name Sr. Cecilia. The martyr Cecilia is a model to me of monastic life because it is said that during the wedding celebration of her forced marriage she was singing in her heart to Jesus, asking Him to preserve her for Himself alone. Monastic life is a life of total dedication to God and continual praise of God. It is also a life of “white martyrdom”—a daily dying to self.

After receiving the name Cecilia, I learned that this name means, “Guide to the blind.” As time has passed, I have come to understand that when the Lord said to me, “If you say ‘yes,’ everyone will see,” He didn’t ultimately mean that everyone will see me, but that through my vocation others would see Him.

I made my life profession and was tonsured as a stavrophore (“cross-bearer”) nun on November 8, 2015, becoming Mother Cecilia. I ask God for the grace to persevere in this difficult but beautiful monastic life, so that at the end of my life on earth He will find me still completely dedicated to Him and still desiring to live forever as His bride in heaven.