Mt. Carmel meets Monte Cassino

 In listening to the vocation stories of my sisters here in community, I have found that several of them considered Carmelite life before settling on our own Benedictine community.  I was also among that group.  My discernment ‘road’ wound through visits to two Carmelite monasteries in Maryland where I was living and working at the time. 

 Pretty much every Catholic who grew up in a devout home was exposed to the Little Flower at some point because of her reputation for being a powerful intercessor in heaven.  I found an old yellowed, dog-eared copy of The Story of a Soul  (St. Therese’s autobiography) in a box of books that had been sitting in the ‘junk’ room of our farm house when I was in high school and was intrigued enough to read through it.  Because of that exposure, when I found myself discerning a contemplative religious vocation, it was natural to think of Carmelites first.  (I had not even heard of St. Benedict at that time)   Considering there is a Benedictine Convent in a city close to where I grew up and that I was born in a Benedictine-run hospital, I must have not been paying attention when I was younger!

So, I visited a place called Port Tobacco, MD.  I had a lovely drive through the countryside of southern Maryland to get to what was the first Carmelite community established in the U.S.   I drove up to a structure that had a WALL stretching as far as I could see.  I went into the little house that had a sign “Guests” and entered a small room without a door but with a ‘round thing’ jutting out of the wall.  There was a door bell to ring, so I did, and a voice from the other side of the wall said, “Praise be to Jesus” and asked me what I wanted.  I told the voice I was there to visit with Sr. so-and-so.  Then the ‘round thing’ jutting out of the wall began to turn.  “Take this key and let yourself into the the visitor’s parlor next door” the voice called out.  Sure enough, there was a key there lying in the ‘round thing’ which I now know is called ‘The TURN.’  I thought to myself, “this is a little spooky...if I just got in my car and left right now, they would never know who I was...”   

But I didn’t...

I bravely went next door, let myself in to the visitor’s parlor and sat down in a room divided in half by a ‘grille’ consisting of a wall about waist high with widely spaced bars on top of the wall going up to the ceiling.  I was soon joined by 2 brown-clad Carmelite nuns.  I had a delightful conversation with both of them that afternoon as they explained what their community was like and I told them a little about myself.  They gave me a video to bring home that was a documentary on their life style and showed what their place beyond the WALL looked like.  So I drove home, watched it, was fascinated and attracted by what I saw......but never went back to continue discernment with them.  

I guess it just wasn’t my call...

I still continue to appreciate the works of St. Theresa of Avila, John of the Cross and other Carmelite writings.  They do feed my contemplative soul.

Fast-forward to the year 2013.  We had been in contact with a Carmelite community in Jefferson City, MO over the years because they were in the altar bread production business to support themselves just as we are.   In the past few years their community had dwindled down to just three members and it was clear that they could not continue to live in their now too-big monastery.  Through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the idea was put forth that perhaps they could somehow share in our life up here in Clyde, MO.  The more we prayed and discerned, the more it just seemed like the right thing to do.  

We greet the arriving Carmelite sisters at
the front entrance to our monastery

So we were pleased to welcome into our midst on December 2nd, three Carmelites from southern Missouri who have turned one of our guest houses into the newly re-located Carmel of the Sacred Heart and St. Joseph.   

Hugs were given all around as the Carmelites stepped out of their vehicle.

There is no intention to become  Benedilites or Carmedictines...

But we do look forward to sharing our distinct contemplative lifestyles and traditions in order to make this corner of northwest Missouri even more of a power house of prayer!

Thankful for the healing power of faith

The end of November has once again rolled around and Thanksgiving is looming upon us.  I try and take stock of what I am thankful for each time this holiday rolls around.   Of course there are the standards:

my faith...

my community, family and friends...

my health...

This year I am especially thankful for the young adult Catholics I have met the past year.  I had the opportunity to spend time at Mizzou (slang for the University of Missouri) for a busy student retreat the first week of this month.  The students who participate in this retreat are in love with their Catholic faith and wanting to go ever deeper into prayer and living with God's presence in their lives.   It gives me hope that 'all is not doom and gloom' for the future of our church or our world.  

Some of these splendid young adults also happen to be related to me!  I have already mentioned my niece Sarah in an earlier post this year who spent 2 months volunteering at our monastery this past summer.  My niece Kelly, a senior pharmacy student at Creighton University, loves adventure and loves to trot the globe.  She is currently in Uganda doing a 6 week pharmacy internship.  

She writes a great blog http://kraestarman.blogspot.com/ about her adventures and I want to share this post in particular she wrote about being thankful for the healing power of faith:

I've been in college for eight years now studying to become a pharmacist, but throughout all of those years and endless hours of study, I've honestly never felt like anything more than a student. The concept of graduating and being a doctor seemed absurd to me.

But for the past month in Uganda, people assume I’m a doctor. They bring their sick children to me, and plead with me to help their beloved grandparents, husbands, wives, friends, and children. And I've done the best I can.

It’s truly humbling to have people place such hope in you, especially when you know your own limitations and frailties and doubts and humanness. But it’s a powerful thing as well. It’s made me fight to be a better doctor, wanting to answer their faith with medicines that I know can offer them real hope in life and in health.

I've seen patients recover. I've had patients return to the pharmacy to see me and to shake my hand with tear-filled eyes because they were healed. I've seen patients in the hospitals rebound from terrible infections, waiting with a smile the next morning when I see them on rounds.

But I can honestly say that I don’t know if their recovery has much to do with me. Here in Uganda medicines, facilities, diagnostic tests, bandages, means for operations and even physicians are all lacking. I’ve seen patient wards where three tiny children share a hospital bed because there is no space to hold them all. The disparity between the healthcare I have seen in the US and here in Uganda is tragic, and to be honest, numbing.

Such disparity should quite honestly be a death-sentence – and result in a hopeless situation for many of the people here. But the miraculous thing is that it’s not. Despite what they're lacking, I believe that these patients largely recover because of what they have in abundance, faith. The doctors and nurses pray together before starting rounds. Many of the patients have rosaries clasped in their hands. People walk miles in the rain to attend church services where they sit shoulder-to-shoulder on hard wooden benches for twice the length of time as the same prayer service in the United States, lengthened by a genuine joy and desire in their praise and in singing.

The people I’ve met here have faith that extends far beyond the fleeting realms of mortality. When the limited accessibility to healthcare means that hope for healing in a traditional sense is lost, they cling to hope in an eternity greater than this life, free from the burdens of their heavy labors and travails.

As I was rounding with a doctor on a pediatric ward today, I realized that in my time here I've not only become a student of pharmacy, but a student of faith and hope. The ward I was in was pierced with the desperate, heart-wrenching cries of sick and sometimes even dying little children. Their mothers held them, fed them if they would eat, and waited. They didn’t demand answers from the doctors. They didn’t pace nervously around the room. They just sat with their babies in their arms and faith in their hearts. I tried to hide my own heart full of panic and desperation, and replace it with a calm and persevering faith to match theirs.

This week I’ve learned that the resiliency of the human spirit carried by faith is absolutely miraculous. And today, I’m thankful for that lesson. I’m thankful for the healing power of faith. 

All Saints

November always brings with it the solemnity of All Saints on the very first day.  We Catholics are privileged to recognize the ''Communion of Saints."    We have a wonderful custom at First Vespers of All Saints of gathering in our relic chapel and then singing the Litany of the Saints before we process into our main chapel for Vespers.   Our relic chapel contains over 550 relics and is one of the largest collections in the U.S.   It is an ideal place to begin our celebration; in the actual presence of the saints!

interior of relic chapel

Our chapels are also a stopping off point for the local "tourist industry."  With a local population numbering at 82 in the nearest town of Clyde, there aren't a lot of 'tourist' type activities except for ourselves and nearby Conception Abbey.   There isn't even a good coffee shop within 20 miles!

I gave a tour to a class of 8th graders just last week.  As you enter our relic chapel your eyes are drawn to a glass covered altar at the far end of the chapel in which you can see a clothed body reposing.   Now inevitably, the first question these kids always ask in a bit of a whisper is -"Is that a real body back there?"

St. Beatrice the Martyr

It certainly isn't something one sees every day!  "If you aren't afraid to look," I tell them, "you can actually see the bones of the hands through her gloves and the bones of the feet through her slippers."  This either brings a look of fear or excitement.   St. Beatrice is a martyr from the catacombs near Rome and is thought to have been about 13 years old when she was martyred in the early centuries of the church.


Being in a room full of relics of so many holy men and women really gives one pause.   Some of these saints were willing to spill their blood for the faith such as St. Beatrice.   None of us know for sure what we would do if faced with the situation of giving our life for our faith.

St. Therese relics

One of the more popular saints for our visitors is St. Therese of Lisieux.   She is also my confirmation saint so I have a great respect for this cloistered Carmelite.

I have no doubt the saints would have just described themselves as ordinary people like you and me...not doing anything extraordinary...just living their lives as best they could with the help of the grace of God.

...that is really our call, too...no heroic circumstances required...just continued faithfulness day after day in good times and bad...

Westward Ho!

I had the wonderful experience of traveling to the Pacific Northwest the first week in October to attend a Benedictine vocation director's meeting.  It was held at Queen of Angels Monastery in Mt. Angel, Oregon which is in the lovely Willamette Valley - the destination of wagon trains back in the 1840's and 50's.  I had never been to Oregon or Washington so I was glad to have the opportunity to see this magnificent part of our country.

Our congregation is a 'sister' monastery to the Benedictine women at Mt. Angel.  Five sisters arrived in Maryville, Missouri from Maria Rickenbach, Switzerland back in 1874 to start a new foundation.  In 1876, a few more sisters arrived from Switzerland to help the new foundation. Sr. Bernardine Wachter was in this group and in 1882, left for Oregon to start a new foundation that would become the current Queen of Angels Monastery.   It seems the fledgling foundation in Missouri had a lot of women with differing opinions on how the community should live out its Benedictine charism in America which eventually led to a foundation in South Dakota and Arkansas as well as Oregon.  God used all things to spread the Benedictine charism in the U.S.!

They have this lovely redwood sequoia smack dab in the front of their monastery.  According to the story, a sister back in 1893 found a little sapling next to some nearby railroad tracks and planted it there not knowing what kind of tree it was.  




Of course one lesson from this is - be careful what kind of 'seeds' you plant.  Another is - take delight in the surprises God gives us when we plant 'seeds' in reckless abandon.  If they are meant to be, they will take root.  If not, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

I was also able to spend a few vacation days up at Mt. Hood after our meeting.  I was warned it rains a lot in Oregon and therefore was prepared with the proper jacket, boots, etc.  I was hoping God would take pity on me, though, and dispense the clouds enough to let me see the actual summit of Mt. Hood since I had travelled all the way to Oregon...I've seen it in calendar pictures after all.  And besides, God knows I love mountains!   Well Day 1 was this... 

Day 2 was rain in copious amounts...

However, Day 3 was this!!!!!....at least part of the time.

It became this before long...yes, the summit IS right there just above that snowy ridge. 

It's not unlike getting glimpses of the 'summit' in our spiritual life or discernment journey.  Is it not wonderful when the clouds part and THERE IT IS?!  God seems so near, so close, so beautiful.  And then, the ceiling lowers, visibility is reduced to 10 ft and nothing is familiar.  

However, all that rain in Oregon molds the beauty that is there, even if you only get glimpses of it now and then.  I mean, how many times have you seen ferns growing up the side of a tree?  Unless a lot of rain falls, that isn't going to happen.   I think it is God's gift to us when He lets us see the goal, the summit of our life in Him.  But we can't stay there, the beauty is too overwhelming in this life.  So I will be content to slog around on the forest floor until the next great 'lifting.'  There is plenty of beauty to see here...

Jesus was not a hypnotist

We celebrated the Feast of St. Matthew on this past Saturday.  The gospel reading was of course, that wonderful story where Matthew is sitting at the Customs Post and Jesus walks up and says, "Follow me."  I'm always intrigued by the 'call' stories in Holy Scripture.  They seem to take place so quickly.  Jesus looks at you, says a few words to you and boom…the next thing you know you are wandering around the country preaching the coming of the kingdom.  Nowhere is the word 'discernment' mentioned anywhere.  There are no Come and See weekends for these people, no psychological testing, no interviews with a vocation director to see if they are 'fit'…they just go.  

Now I realize that in reality perhaps some of these encounters with Jesus were not actually the first time they ever saw or heard of Jesus.  Our evangelists were making the point that following Jesus is primary to anything else so dropping everything to follow him is a worthy image to portray.

Pope Francis gave a homily on Saturday that talks about the gaze of Jesus in relation to the Call.

When Jesus looked at Matthew, “that gaze overtook him completely, it changed his life,” said the Pope to the congregation at Casa Santa Marta on Sept. 21.

“The gaze of Jesus always makes us worthy, gives us dignity.  It is a generous look.”

He explained that the an encounter with Jesus “gives the courage to follow Him.”

“Jesus’ gaze always lifts us up,” continued Pope Francis. “It is a look that always lifts us up, and never leaves you in your place, never lets us down, never humiliates. It invites you to get up – a look that brings you to grow, to move forward, that encourages you.”

The gaze of Jesus is incredibly powerful, said the Pope, but it is not “magical.”

“Jesus was not a specialist in hypnosis,” he quipped.

Rather, Christ’s gaze is one that “makes you feel that he loves you.”

Jesus does not hypnotize us to get us to answer a call to religious life.  But sometimes we have a hard time believing that his gaze is one of love when he calls us.   We can think that a call means suffering and hardship and something we wouldn't choose to do.  But God does not purposely call us to misery. 

Another image our chaplain used in his homily on Saturday was that of "Christ passing by."  Jesus passes by us even if we are a 'sinner' sitting at a customs post.   Who knows he may be passing by right now...are you going to ignore him or take a chance?

'Wine' a little, it will make you feel better.

September 14th marked the 20th anniversary of my entering the postulancy of the Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration in Clyde, MO.   I remember the day well, excited, but also thinking to myself, "What in heaven's name have you done, Ruth?!"  Something took though...I'm still here...

So what did I do to celebrate?  I went grape picking at a local winery named Holy Field.  
What a great name for a winery for nuns to go pick grapes at.  Don't ask me what makes that field holy.  I cajoled our three women in formation to join me.  Actually, I didn't have to cajole them, any outing is a nice break when you are in formation!   

Postulant Rosa 

 A cousin of one of our sisters has the winery outside of Kansas City.  I've been there a few times over the years to pick grapes.    A few years ago our Sr. Gladys, a wine guru, agreed to teach me how to make wine.   So I dutifully brought back 100 pounds and we used about 75 lbs for our project.  It seemed at the time that we had a river of wine with all those grapes.  We ended up with 75 bottles of varying sizes with inflated balloons on top during the fermentation process down in our basement.   

Watch your fingers, Ruth, you still have to play the organ
for vespers this evening.

We still have not finished drinking it and I am proud to say that no one has died from it!
We probably brought back around 140 lbs this time, seven 5 gallon buckets full.  Since we have not finished the last batch of wine I made, we will use these grapes for grape jelly.   

the Haul

St. Benedict in his Rule absolutely 
despises murmuring in community members.  I suppose he wouldn't like whining either...none of us do unless perhaps we are the 'whinee.'   Do we not feel justified in the righteousness of our whining?  But I was amused by a saying on some napkins that the winery sold in their gift store:

"Wine a little, it will make you feel better."

Our Lord is not against feasting or he would not have changed water into wine at the wedding feast in Cana.

Benedict lets his monks have wine in chapter 40 of his Rule but wants them to drink moderately.   He phrased it this way (he knew his monks well) -

"We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink moderately and not to the point of excess."

This is good advice...even for the eating of grape jelly!
  

Wedding day of a nun

  

This past weekend was a time for celebration in our community as Sr. Nancy Rose Gucwa made Final Profession at Eucharist on Saturday.  (I was especially happy to see one of my first 'vocations', after becoming vocation director, make it to the big day!)  It is the closest thing we nuns get to a wedding day.   And just as brides 'glow', so was Sr. Nancy Rose glowing as seen in the picture to the right.  The light happened to be streaming through the windows at just the right time...or maybe it really is her natural glow!

Final Profession is THE commitment...no more messing around with temporary vows.   It's time to stop sitting on the fence...are you in or are you out?  We all hark back to our own Final Profession day whenever we celebrate someone else.   I remember it being one of the happiest days of my life.  I was rather chicken to make the commitment, however.  It took me six years in temporary vows to decide that 'yes, this will be forever.'  (Temporary vows can be anywhere from 3 - 6 years long.)   I suppose I suffered from wanting to keep my options open AND a fear of commitment.   But God gave me the grace at the right time.

When we make Final Profession we get THE RING.   People often ask if they notice it, "What does the IHS stand for?"  It's a Greek shortcut for the name of Jesus.  It is NOT as some may joke, "I have suffered."  (although there is suffering involved in lasting long enough to get the privilege of wearing one! :)

The ceremony is rich in symbolism.   The sister prostrates herself before the altar and the whole assembly prays Psalm 51 over her.   Psalm 51 asks God to create a pure heart and steadfast spirit, the monastic ideal.   The thing I remember about prostrating there is feeling an energy pass through me during the recitation.  I can only assume it was the Holy Spirit!

 Another part of the ceremony involves the singing of the Suscipe.  This can often be the scariest part of the ceremony for those women who don't sing confidently.   Nancy Rose did just fine.

Receive me Lord,
according to your promise
and I shall live;
and disappoint me not in my hope.
(Ps 119:116)



In today's hook-up culture it is easy to be cynical about 'forever.'  With over 50% of marriages failing, we can easily get cynical and say - "Nothing is forever."  But in this northwest corner of Missouri we celebrate the fact that yes, there are people who really do mean it when they say " forever"!

a Sister on vacation

I had the great pleasure of being on vacation last week.  My idea of vacationing is pitching a tent and going hiking in the mountains which I don't get to do very often here in northwest Missouri.  The closest 'mountains' to us would be in the Ozarks which is a several hours drive to the south.   We, Benedictine Sisters of Perpetual Adoration, are fortunate to have a little monastery in Dayton, WY at the foot of the Bighorn Mountains (real mountains!) so that was a good excuse to head west for a little R&R.  My intrepid companion was our novice Maria who also loves to hike and camp.   

The fastest route to Dayton is through South Dakota so we had to make some side trips to some notable sites.   One cannot be close to Mt. Rushmore and not drop in.  I am also fascinated by the area known as the 'Badlands.'   It's like a 'moonscape' in many areas.    

The colors are incredible, though, as your eyes travel down the formations and you travel eons through time.  It just goes to show that even something called the Badlands can be a place of great beauty.  Even here there are grassy meadows so there is sustenance for creatures even amidst the 'moon scape.'

Once we hit the mountains we sought out cold refreshing mountain streams.  Neither one of us fish, (the fish are certainly grateful) but we would plop on a rock and meditate on the water rushing by. If you have ever sat on a rock in the middle of a madly rushing mountain stream, you will know what it feels like to read Psalm 36 verses 8 - 9:

They feast on the abundance of your house,
    and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
⁹ For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light we see light.

In the stream there are little waterfalls, pools of quiet water and always the water rushing down, down, down.  Some of the droplets leap as they race over the rocks...if this water could talk, I would imagine it screaming wildly for joy and perhaps some fear too.   I am reminded of the book Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.  It is an allegory of the Christian life and the journey of faith as we make our way toward the High Places of the Shepherd.   I read this book when I was discerning a religious vocation many years ago.  I highly recommend it for anyone who has not read it.  I just finished re-reading it a few weeks ago.   When I was discerning I could very much identify with the main character 'Much Afraid', who belongs to the Fearing family.   Even as I re-read it, I had to admit there are areas where I am still 'Much Afraid.'  

In one chapter she is standing at the foot of a high water fall.  The Shepherd asks her,
 "What do you think of this fall of great waters in their abandonment of self-giving?"  

"I think they are beautiful and terrible beyond anything which I ever saw before.  It is the leap they have to make, the awful height from which they must cast themselves down to the depths beneath, there to be broken on the rocks."

The Shepherd asks her to watch the water from the moment it leaps over the edge until it reaches the bottom.  Once over the edge, the waters were like winged things, alive with joy, so utterly abandoned to the ecstasy of giving themselves that she could almost have supposed that she was looking at a host of angels floating down on rainbow wings, singing with rapture as they went.

"It looks as though they think it is the loveliest movement in all the world, as though to cast oneself down is to abandon oneself to ecstasy and joy indescribable." 

This is what I thought as I watched the river race down, down, down... exploding on rocks... leaping in the air...perhaps a respite in a quiet pool until once again a water droplet was drawn into the current to start down again.  

I have to ask myself, am I still ready to abandon myself in the Lord's river of delights even though it might mean crashing into rocks and leaps of faith.  Hopefully, I say YES!!!  And hopefully you do too!

Summer Hiatus

It's been a couple months since I posted anything.  I didn't intentionally take a summer hiatus...it was lack of inspiration...or pure laziness.   It's not that it has been a really dull summer; although some may wonder if ANYTHING exciting ever happens in a contemplative, semi-cloistered monastery located conveniently next to no-where.  

We had a lovely college student volunteer for most of the summer here in Clyde.  She was the best volunteer ever!  She also happens to be my niece Sarah (not surprising that she was the best ever, then).  She is going to be a senior at Benedictine College in Atchison, KS this fall.  You can read her story here at  student volunteers.  She decided that hanging out with the sisters would be more exciting than assembling sandwiches at the local Subway where she has spent other less than exciting summers.   I must say, at her age I think volunteering at a convent would have been the last thing I would have wanted to do.  I wanted to go work in Yellowstone Nat'l Park during my college summers, which I never did do!

Just this past Tuesday we had another woman cross the threshold of our monastery chapel to enter our postulancy.   We have the ritual at our Noon Prayer and it began by having Arana  knock on the chapel doors while we awaited her coming in.   (If anyone was going to cut and run, that would be the time to do so because she is out there by herself...nobody ever has, though :)

Sr. Cheryl, Assistant Prioress General and Sr. Lynn, formation director, officially welcomed her into the postulancy during the ceremony.  Arana brings Cajun cooking skills to our midwest monastery which will be something new for our meat and potatoes type of community.   But, we do have other sisters among our newer entrants who like 'hot' food with a kick to it.

We also hosted a week-long monastic experience here in July.  "Listen with the Ear of your Heart" was our theme.   The attendees received input on - Why pray the Psalms?, Lectio Divina, Centering Prayer, Discernment, Life in Formation and heard great vocation stories.

One highlight when guests come to our abode is to take them out for ice cream 10 miles away to the nearest ice cream stand.  That might not sound so exciting but the local town of Clyde has a population of 82 and Baskin Robbins is 45 miles away!  

One can also get fried gizzards at this
ice cream stand, but I generally pass on that
option.  I would say both Dairy Queen and
Baskin Robbins would have a hard time matching
up with that!!!!  

Postulant Rosa enjoying a cone as it
quickly melts and starts to drip.

    

The Body of Christ meets celiac disease

We celebrated the Solemnity of Corpus Christi this past Sunday which is a special solemnity for our congregation.  We joined Pope Francis and the rest of the world in the world-wide Holy Hour which was 10am-11am our time.  As I sat in our chapel I was thrilled to know that millions of Catholics around the world were simultaneously joining in prayer before our Eucharistic Lord.  We had it easy here in Clyde...we didn't have to get up in the middle of the night to be synchronized with the 5pm Rome time!

One special way our community contributes to the greater church is by producing

sisters at old bakers

the communion hosts that will be changed into the Body of Christ.  We have been doing this for over 100 years now.   The 'old-timers' in community fondly recall the old bakers we used to have that required one sister at a baking machine to produce the single sheets that would be cut into the round hosts.
If a sister was really good, she could handle 2 bakers at a time.   I've heard some claims to handling three!

pouring batter 

    
By 1992 we upgraded our altar bread equipment and switched to one large baker that contained 30 plates - the equivalent of 30 baking machines, as seen below and to the right.  This monster baker can churn out 1 baked sheet every 5 seconds or so and only  
requires one alert baker.

'new' baker

Needless to say, we were able to produce more breads in a shorter amount of time than previously.  

In recent years, celiac-sprue disease or gluten-intolerance has become an issue for many people.  Our community was the first altar bread producer to create a low-gluten bread that still satisfied the requirements that 'some' gluten be present to make it valid in the Catholic church but was a small enough amount that most celiac sufferers could take it.   

Sr. Jane spreading batter on
 waffle irons

I think it took about 10 years to come up with the right recipe.  This has been a labor intensive project as we have used basic breakfast waffle irons (with flat plates instead of ridges) for years until a recent generous gift of a modern baker from an anonymous religious community no longer using it.  The 'waffle-iron' breads were kind of crunchy and rough looking (but decent tasting). The  breads from our new baker are smooth and almost melt in your mouth.

This has been a blessing for us to do  as we receive letters or e-mails like this one just sent yesterday from a woman in Connecticut:

Dear sisters:
We just received a new box of your low-gluten hosts.  I just want to tell you that I am forever grateful for your efforts on the behalf of Catholics with celiac disease.  I never receive Communion without having you in prayer.  I have to admit that part of me is going to miss the funky handmade hosts, because it was such a tangible demonstration of your commitment to this small population.  

I was desperately sick when I was finally diagnosed with celiac disease in 2000.  I was literally dying of starvation--90 pounds at 5'8".  But I accepted the gluten-free diet with bitterness until you produced your low-gluten host.  THAT the was one thing that changed everything.  After that, I could accept everything else.  Thank you for everything you have done for us, the celiac Catholic community...

It's hard for me to imagine what it would have been like to have celiac disease and NOT be able to receive the Bread of LIfe before our community was able to produce low-gluten breads.   But we get new e-mails like the one above several times a week so all the years of failed experiments were worth it to our sisters.  

Truly we ARE all ONE body in Christ.

I love a good mystery

I was a big fan of mystery novels when I was growing up.  I think I started off with the Bobsey Twins and then moved onto the Hardy Boys and  Nancy Drew.  Good ole Nancy was my favorite, I thought she was so cool.  I have since become a fan of Brother Cadfael who is a monk in a medieval monastery in England.  In fact, there are several murder mysteries set in medieval monasteries on the market today.  It's amazing how many people die under suspicious circumstances in or at a monastery in the middle of nowhere in these stories.

Why do I bring up mysteries?  Because every year when we celebrate Trinity Sunday, it reminds me of the great mysteries of our faith.  I went to Google Images and typed in "Trinity" to see what would pop up.  Try it, it is rather interesting.  There are a lot of triangular images and a woman wearing black leather appears rather frequently...I had no idea what THAT connection was so I had to click on it to see where it would take me.  When I saw the MATRIX, I realized it was that movie I had heard about that came out a few years ago.  (I never did see it, don't know if I ever will)

They offer semester long classes in seminaries and tomes have been written over the centuries to try and make sense of it.  If I were to take such a class I am pretty sure that after it was all said and done the most I would be able to say is, "It's a great mystery."

Three persons in ONE God?

Come on, that makes NO sense logically if you really think about it.  But what about God IS logical?  

We have the luxury of living with 'defined' doctrine about the Trinity because of those church councils that hashed all that out in the 4th and 5th centuries.   So in one sense all I have to do is sit back, accept it and not worry about it.

However, last year I had a niece ask me, "Where in the Bible does it mention the Trinity?"  She asked this because she was contemplating becoming Mormon and apparently that is an argument a Mormon will bring up.  I had never really thought about it before so I was a little stunned by the question.    

My first thought was "You silly child", but my actual response was, "It's all over the place, just because it isn't formally defined in scripture doesn't mean that the Trinity doesn't exist."  

Our beloved John is really a great Trinitarian Gospel writer even though he probably didn't know it at the time.   He talks about the Father and the Spirit a lot, especially in the Last Discourse during the Last Supper.  I especially like this from John 14:16-17:

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—  the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.

I don't believe I'll try and wrestle with trying to understand the Trinity beyond the above scripture passage.  Why mess with what already works?!   :)