Heard last Sunday:
“Jesus did not say ‘You are the sugar of the earth.’”
The Baroness
One of my favorite spiritual guides is Catherine de Hueck Doherty, known to many as “The Baroness”, or affectionately, “The B.” Catherine lived an unbelievable life – full of adventure and sacrifice – from wealthy aristocracy, to war refugee, to waitress, to career woman, to voluntary poverty. Despite her fantastic life, Catherine remains relatable. She had all the ups and downs of life that “the rest of us” experience. She experienced many failures – of relationships, of her work. She had moments of desperation and confusion, times of financial ruin, doubts about being a good mother. Once she stood on a bridge in New York City and came very close to jumping off. But Catherine believed she saw the face of Christ in the water, and she kept on living. Even though she was not always certain of her path, she kept chugging, and the trajectory of her life resulted in amazing things.
Catherine Doherty – like her contemporary and friend Dorothy Day – is now honored with the title “Servant of God” as the cause for her canonization is officially underway. I’ll be posting more about her life and spirituality, but if you’re interested in learning more, you’ll find information about her life and excerpts from her writings at www.catherinedoherty.org. And if you’re looking for an insightful read that just might change your perspective on prayer, I highly recommend one of Catherine’s classics: Poustinia.
Nests
"This church . . . is the home of all, not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people. We must not reduce the bosom of the universal church to a nest protecting our mediocrity.”
I was already on the Pope Francis bandwagon. But when I read these words I pushed my way up a few rows and took a seat even closer to the front. It had been awhile since I had read anything so beautiful, so true, and so alarming. Like most people who heard or read this, I knew instinctively what it meant: how we've strayed, what we are supposed to be, how we have deformed the bosom of the Church.
It also got me thinking about nests. In nature, nests are for a select few. But in the Church -- whose identifying feature should be love -- the capacity of the nest must be limitless. Nests are places of protection – but they are also places of nurturing, places where family members gather to grow and stay warm.
I found Pope Francis’ words alarming not just because of what they said about my church – but because of what they said about me. I’ve built my own share of exclusive nests, I’ve protected my own share of mediocrity. Afraid to do the things our pope – and other popes, saints, prophets, friends and family have urged us to do all along – get our hands and feet dirty, heal wounds, open our doors, discover the joy of the Gospel.
The Way She Saw the World
The priest who gave me my first parish job – straight out of grad school when I had no idea what I was doing! – was not known for his social graces or tactful conversation. But he preached like a true man of God. At his mother’s funeral, I wondered what kind of homily he would give. He loved his mother very much, and she may have been the last person left on earth who loved him unconditionally. But he did not focus on his own loss, and in Mass and homily he sent her on to the next life with dignity and love. One thing he said about her in the homily has always remained with me. After telling stories about fish on Fridays and mandatory early morning acolyting for her sons, he summed up her life: “Catholic was the way she saw the world.” Catholic was the way she saw the world. You didn’t even have to think about what he meant. You just knew.
I owe that priest (who passed away several years ago) a debt of gratitude – not only for hiring me and believing in me – but for this tribute to his mother which unearthed a wise gem of truth. Catholicism is not just a religion. It is a perspective on life.