SISTERS

Aware that Vocations Sunday is coming up, I put a few reflective pieces about a vocation to be a Religious Sister in my blog. Obviously, there are many vocational choices in life – and for a Christian there are many that come out of our baptismal calling.

When it comes to promoting ministries and service in our Church, it seems to me, promoting a life choice as a “Sister” or a “Nun” is often missed or forgotten.

This is an “ecological” disaster for our Church.

When I speak as priest to young people I ask at times, “Have any of you young ladies here ever given any thought of becoming a nun?” “Have you ever considered being a Sister.”

I say this because I was taught at OLPH Brooklyn grammar school by the Sisters of St. Joseph, Brentwood, N.Y. I remember Sister Jean Kevin, Sister Teresa Carmel, Sister Anne Marguerite, and so many other gals who have a lasting impact on me because of my 8 years in classrooms and school yards with them.

I say this because the Gray Nuns cooked for us when I was in the seminary – women who came from Germany to serve us future priests. Imagine doing that as a life choice? Amazing!

I say this because my dad had 3 sisters in the Sisters of Mercy – in Portland, Maine.

I say this because my sister Peggy is a nun – a Scranton, IHM - Immaculate Heart of Mary. [Check out a younger picture of her below - which should make her very happy.]

I say this because we Redemptorists are historically connected to a group of contemplative nuns – called the Redemptoristines.

I say this because nuns around the world have started hospitals, colleges, clinics, nursing homes, and countless programs that have helped those needing help – especially the unnoticed and neglected.

I say this because I have given lots of nuns’ retreats before I became a parish priest here at St. Mary’s Annapolis and I didn’t see enough young people in the mix. Walking around the property of many Motherhouses, I spotted large cemeteries. I walked through rows and rows and rows of the deceased. Each stone was the same as they were when they were in their nuns’ habits - each so different as brief biographical names and numbers on etched into the stone. And I wondered, “Why so many then? Why so few now?”

I am aware that many Sisters left their communities after the Second Vatican Council – for all kinds of reasons – many to breathe fresher air – to become more fully alive. Having gone through a pre-Vatican II formation system myself to become a religious and a priest, I know there were various weaknesses – especially when it came to understanding humanity. I am also aware of many sisters who stayed and grew – and became richer human beings. I go crazy when I hear priests comment about nuns and habits – and all that. I learned my lesson early on in life when I bought one of my nieces a Jordache vest for a Christmas gift. She never told me – but I hope someone, somewhere in some Goodwill Store thought it was a good buy. “Can’t beat the price.” I hear priests say: “Well, the communities of sisters getting vocations today all wear the habit.” And if I get sucked into the argument, I add: “Of course uniforms are important – and it gets people in the door. But if they stay, they better stay for the better reasons.” Then I add comments like, “ They better be able to go mufti like we did.” And “We have to learn something from history.” Then I add, “Remember the old saying, ‘The habit doesn’t make the monk.’” Then I say to myself, “Shut up! Let the women talk for the women.”

I am aware of the many single and married women who are giving their life and talents to teaching, nursing, running schools, hospitals, programs and parishes.

My thought in this blog piece is that there is a loss taking place.

Maybe a woman reading this will say, “I never thought of this for a life choice.” Come Holy Spirit.

Obviously, the shortage of priests in the Church in the United States, has challenged me to wonder about that as well as the shortage of religious sisters and nuns.

My personal observational research says a key reason for the decline is that parents are having less kids and want to see grandkids.

I always like to quote Groucho Marx’s words, “If your parents didn’t have any kids, chances are you won’t either.”

It’s been the choice of the Catholic Church in the “West” that priests and religious come from families as gifts to the Church and the world – especially the poor. So I hope couples are blessed with kids and say at times, “Think about giving your life to the people of our world as a sister or a brother or a priest. It means making the sacrifice of your life of being a husband or a wife – and parent – and giving all your love for the parents and children of our world.”

Another observation I make is that we live in what I call, “The Clicker Generation.” If the program on the screen is boring, change the channel or turn it off and go to the computer or e-mails or Google. Or pick up the cell phone. It seems that long term life commitments are not on people’s screen. However, as I say that I think of the many dedicated driven folks – with lifetime commitments - whom I have met in various careers. So I am not sure.

Should there be more ads for becoming a nun or a sister? More promotion? It seems to me that is pouring good money down the drain – but more asking folks to consider such a life is the best promotion.

So let me ask you the reader of this blog – especially women: Did you ever think of being a religious, a sister, a brother, a priest?

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A SISTER

A sister,
a dreamer,
one who like Joseph
has many dreams,
many sisters and brothers,
a sister,
one who has discovered through pain
that the plot is always copious redemption,
especially when there has been betrayal and lies,
a sister,
one who has a forever kind of forgiveness,
a sister,
one who wants to make sure
everyone in the family
has at least one coat of many colors,
a sister,
one who is a bread winner,
so that everyone has their daily bread,
a sister
one whose heart is filled with charity,
beating with haste like Mary’s heart,
trying to bring forth new beginnings,
helping people move through a Genesis,
always unfolding, always being created,
through Exodus, towards Revelation,
the Revelation of the Son,
Jesus, the Redeeming One.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A CARMELITE

A Carmelite
always listening for knocks on the door
to move further into The Interior Castle.

A Carmelite
always knowing that in The Dark Night of the Soul
there is always The Living Flame of Love.

A Carmelite
always knowing that God is the one who moves us
from nothing to the all (“nada y todo”).

A Carmelite
always knowing Christ is inviting us
to make The Ascent of Mount Carmel.

A Carmelite
always listening to The Spiritual Canticle
that is our prayer – that is us.

A Carmelite
always knowing Jesus is the Little Way
when moving in The Way of Perfection.

A Carmelite
always knowing God sends the rain
when it’s difficult to water the Garden of the Soul.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A SISTER IN THE FAMILY

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “Jesus still walks this earth
and calls people, “Come follow me!”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “I am a member
of every family. I am your sister.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “God is! God listens!
I am here as one who listens.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “All of us down deep
are hungry and thirsty for God.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “God is a banquet,
here and hereafter.”

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

SISTER

“Sister” - one of those sacred words
found in so many lives.
Okay, not as powerful as “Mom,”
or “God”,
but all the same, to so many,
so important.
“Sister”.
Friend. Presence. Nun better.

One who cares.
Someone you can count on.
So no wonder all religious women
are blessed by being called by
such a sacred name,
“Sister.”

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

DOUBTING THOMAS

[This is a story for Doubting Thomas Sunday - March 30, 2008 - for our Kids and Family Mass. The Gospel reading is a bit different in the Children's Lectionary.]

Thomas was a doubter ever since he was a tiny kid. If you knew his background, you’d understand.

Thomas was one of two kids – and a twin at that with his twin sister, Theresa – spelled, “T H E R E S A” not “T E R E S A.”

People misspelling her name at times – was to be the only problem Theresa had in life. Not bad.

Now even though they were twins, Theresa had all the gifts. Theresa was smarter, quicker, better looking. At least that’s what Thomas often heard – when he heard adults talk about him and his twin sister – when mom and dad and an aunt and her husband who lived next door would talk in the other room or on the porch outside their house when the weather was warm and the windows were open and he would be listening. Thomas was not just a doubter. He was also a listener.

And when he went to school, the teachers often said to Thomas, even though Theresa was in the same class, “Why aren’t you like your sister?”

“Ouch,” that hurts.

Now of course, his parents tried not to say that horrible thing that every kid hates to hear: “Why aren’t you like your sister?” Or, “Why aren’t you like your brother?” Yet, they said it at times. And sometimes two times are too many times – especially if the person who hears it repeats it a hundred times inside themselves.

It would get Thomas mad – but he would never say it or show it. But he did think about it – as well as other comments about how great his sister was.

He would sit there at table inside his inner room – that inner room we all have somewhere deep inside our brain – our upper room - where hurts hide and hang out.

The implication always seemed to be disappointment with Thomas.

The hidden message always seemed to be: he, Thomas, wasn’t measuring up to expectations. At least that’s what he thought others were implying over and over again.

Thomas and Theresa, mom and dad, lived in a small town – so everybody knew everybody.

Thomas and Theresa were both in the same class – all through grammar school and high school.

Everybody noticed Teresa.

Nobody noticed Thomas – except for comparisons.

When it came time to graduate from high school, Theresa got several scholarships to good universities for lacrosse, basketball, soccer and academics. Thomas got nothing.

Not being an A student like Theresa – not being a great athlete like Theresa, Thomas decided to do something totally different. Instead of going to college, he decided to become a marine. Nobody in the family had ever been in the marines – so that’s what Thomas decided to do.

He doubted he would make it – but he did.

So it was the Marines – training, then off to war in Iraq.

Thomas, now away from his sister, now called Tommy by his buddies – made it – in fact, he did really well at times. Sergeants and lieutenants praised him for his hard work – but Tommy didn’t know how to take compliments. He would doubt that anyone would praise him for his accomplishments. While growing up, he rarely got them in school or at home. Theresa got them all. So he didn’t take the compliments into his inner room – that place inside each of us -somewhere inside our brain – where we sit and talk with our thoughts and feelings.

One day – one horrible day – when driving down a dusty road not too far from Falluja in Iraq – a road side bomb exploded. It was a notorious I.E.D.: Improvised Explosive Device. This time, thank God, nobody was killed. However, Tommy’s left leg was really mangled and messed up – so messed up that he lost it.

He was flown to Germany first and then to a rehabilitation hospital in Texas – one of the best in the United States.

Obviously, his mom and dad and sister flew to Germany and then to Texas to see him as often as they could.

In time, Tommy’s wounds were healed. He was fitted with an artificial left leg – the latest and best artificial leg one could get. Yet down deep he couldn’t deal with his loss. He faked it when his sister Theresa and his parents came to visit him. Down deep in that secret room inside himself – which many of us keep locked – for fear that another person will say something that will hurt us even more, he had doubts that he would ever get anywhere in his life – now with only 1 leg.

Therapists kept telling his group in Texas that many soldiers who had lost arms or legs or hands were leading good lives. Tommy doubted this.

One Sunday – this Second Sunday after Easter he was in church and the priest said that for the past few years this Sunday has been called “Divine Mercy Sunday” – but for centuries before that it’s also been called, “Doubting Thomas Sunday.”

Hearing his name caught Tommy’s attention. He began listening like he used to listen to his parents on the porch in the summer when the windows were open.

The priest said that Thomas was not there when Jesus came back from the dead – when Jesus came into the Upper Room – even though the doors were locked – because the disciples were filled with fear. Jesus the Risen Lord came back and said to his disciples, “Peace be to you and I want you to bring peace and forgiveness to others.”

The priest said when Thomas came back, the disciples told him the good news that Jesus had risen – that Jesus had come back from the dead. Thomas wouldn’t believe them. Thomas doubted them. He said, “First, I must see the nail scars in his hands and touch them with my finger. I must put my hand where the spear went into his side. I won’t believe unless I do this!”

The priest who was preaching said, “That’s why Thomas is called ‘Doubting Thomas’. That’s why this is called, ‘Doubting Thomas Sunday.’”

The priest also said, “Thomas was a Twin” – and added, “I often wonder if the reason the Gospel tells us Thomas was a twin is because we are his twin. All of us have our doubts. Maybe the story was written down in the gospels, so we doubters could have someone we can relate to.”

Well, when Tommy heard this, he found himself in his Upper Room – somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain. Tommy was sorting out his own thoughts about all this. He knew he was a Doubting Thomas as well.

Then the priest added the rest of the story – how Jesus came back a week later and this time Thomas was present and Jesus called him by name to put his finger into Jesus' cuts and into his side and believe. And Thomas believed. And Jesus said, “You have believed because you have seen. Blessed are those who have not seen – yet they believe.”

Tommy began to feel great peace. Then and there his whole life was opened up for him. He couldn’t wait till Monday morning. He couldn’t wait for rehabilitation exercises.

And he did fabulously – so fabulously that he was asked by his superiors if he would consider doing this kind of work full time – that he become a doctor or a physical therapist or what have you – and be given an assignment to help soldiers – men and women injured in Iraq and Afghanistan – who came back in the pits – not believing they would ever recover.

And that’s what Tommy did – but immediately. He went to school at night to become a physical therapist – but during the day he worked with those who lost limbs and spirit in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Seeing Thomas move so well – speak so well – help train so well, many would recover very well. He had a way of getting deep into inside locked minds and hearts – inside people's upper rooms where we get stuck because of fears and anger and comparisons.

And at least 35 times so far, a soldier who lost a leg or an arm would say to him in anger, “Lieutenant Tom, it’s easy for you to say I can recover and lead a normal life. But I lost my leg in Afghanistan or Iraq and look at you – you’re normal – you’re a full person.”

And Lieutenant Tom would smile – knowing the day would come when he would find the right time, the right moment, to say, “Let me show you something.” And he would sit down on a nearby chair and slowly roll up his left pants leg.

No doubt about it, it always worked.

DOUBTING TOMMY

(The following is a story I made up last year for our Sunday morning Kids and Family Mass. I try to write a new story for each of these Masses - and when I wrote this year's story, I said, "Uh oh! Didn't I write something like this last year?" You be the judge!

Once upon a time there was this kid name Tommy. He was a great kid. However, his mom and dad often told him, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

They would say this if he spent too much on his Game Boy and not enough time on his homework. As a result, he’d end up almost failing. Now Tommy had a good brain. Yet his parents would say, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

They would say this if he ate only dessert and skipped his green vegetables and salad and hamburger and potatoes – and all those things parents nag their kids about when eating. Then when he felt sick – because he took too much dessert, they would say, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

Now Tommy had a twin brother named Teddy. Now, Teddy loved his twin brother Tommy, especially because Tommy always got the corrections. Teddy just stayed cool, calm and collected, enjoying life in Tommy’s shadow.

One Sunday afternoon, their mom and dad, left the two of them alone – because they wanted to go to a wake. Someone in the parish had died suddenly. As they were leaving mom said, "Tommy, you're in charge!" Then out of habit she added, "Think before you act."

Tommy liked being the older brother. They were both 12 years old – but Tommy was 26 minutes older than his brother.

Their parents didn't think much could go wrong if they were out of the house for just an hour.

It was raining out. It was a Sunday. It was April. March madness was over. Nothing good was on TV. When T & T realized they forgot to recharge their Game Boys, they got out their lacrosse sticks and started tossing a ball back and forth in the living room.

Tommy wasn’t thinking before acting – but neither was Teddy.

They were doing well – when suddenly Tommy threw a lacrosse ball to Teddy – but too hard and too wide. Teddy lunged for it, but the ball crashed into a very expensive living room big mirror on the wall. Teddy, as he tried to catch the ball, hit an expensive Waterford crystal vase with his lacrosse stick. It was on an end table and had some spring flowers in it.

"Crash!" "Splash," went the glass of both the vase and the mirror. Water, flowers and broken shards of glass were scattered everywhere.

“Uh oh,” both of them muttered.

Then they both yelled in unison, “Uh oh! Big time!”

Teddy said, “I’m going to call mom and dad right away and tell them we just broke a vase and the mirror. Better tell them now than latter.”

“No,” said Tommy. "Let’s wait till they get home. We need some time to come up with a good story.”

Teddy, said, “Nope, I’m calling right now.”

So Teddy went to the phone in the kitchen – while Tommy pouted on the big couch – looking at the mess – wondering how he’s going to get out of this one. He could hear his mom and dad saying as they walked into the room and seeing the mess, “You have to think before you act. You could have gone out into the garage and have a catch there with your lacrosse sticks.”

Teddy returned from the kitchen three minutes later.

Tommy asked, “What did mom and dad say?”

Teddy told his twin brother Tommy, “They were upset, but they forgave us. Mom said, ‘Just as long as neither of you are cut.’”

Tommy said, “No way. No way they forgave us. I can hear them as soon as they walk in the house and see this mess. ‘We told you. No lacrosse, no football, no baseball playing, in the living room. You’re going to break something.’ Then I’m going to hear, ‘Think before you act.’”

Teddy repeated himself, “Nope. They forgave us. And they added, ‘Don’t try to pick up the broken glass. You might cut yourself.’”

The next hour was the longest hour in their entire life. They could hear every drop of rain falling from the sky. Finally, they heard the garage door opening and the car coming into the garage. Then they heard their parents come into the living room.

“Are you guys okay? All the way home we were worried you might be cut. We can always get a new mirror and a new Waterford vase, but we can’t get a new set of Twins like you guys.”

Teddy and Tommy were silent – amazed – and stunned.

Their parents continued, “All the way home we were thinking how you must be nervous wrecks worrying that we’re going to yell at you. Hey we broke things when we were your age. And we’re impressed that you called right away. Nice going. Not too many kids would do that.”

And Teddy didn’t give Tommy the “I told you so” look.

Tommy thought to himself, “Better to stay in Teddy’s shadow. There will be more broken windows and dishes and more, ‘I told you so’s’ – in the future, but for now, it was all forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness and lots of wonderful peace.