All Sorts out of Sorts

Synchronicity fascinates me. Recently, one of my friends was gripped by a sense of malaise. I am sure you agree with me that this is something many of us experience off and on in varying degrees during these protracted weeks and months of the pandemic.  While my friend and I were chatting about the overall impact the pandemic has on our psyche and spirits, she chuckled and said, “All sorts feel out of sorts.”  Well, and then she suggested I’d write a reflection about all sorts being out of sorts, a delightful play on the licorice brand name Allsorts. I laughed and suggested she write about being out of sorts since she had just had a taste of it. Herein lies the synchronicity, shortly after our conversation I had my own taste of feeling out of sorts. 

Probably none of us needs to turn to a dictionary to learn what it means to be out of sorts, still, I did. According to the Collins Dictionary when you are in that state, “you feel slightly unwell, upset, or annoyed.” It has been my experience that it is all these feelings mixed together.  Feeling out of sorts is all sorts of feelings layered on top of each other just like some of those Allsorts liquorice pieces.

In his book, Molloy, Samuel Beckett has his protagonist express feeling out of sorts like this, “I was out of sorts.  They are deep, my sorts, a deep ditch, and I am not often out of them.” Phrasing the state of being out of sorts like that sounds like the crème de la crème expression about what many of us experience these days. During these dark days, an unsettling mood can easily invade us. It is not unusual that we can find ourselves in a depressed mood during this pandemic without knowing exactly where it comes from and the degree of such moods can vary from person to person, from situation to situation. How deep are the ditches of some of your pandemic induced ‘sorts’?

““I am offering you life or death . . . Choose life. (Deuteronomy 30:19)”

When we have the courage, the gumption, one step at a time, to extricate ourselves from those dark moods, we choose to live instead of remaining in the dark ditch. The longer we remain in the ditch, the harder it tends to be to get out of it. No, it is not easy.  No, it is not instant. By relying on our life experience, on support from those we trust, and the grace of God we can learn bit by bit how to extricate ourselves ever more easily from our ‘deep sorts [that] deep ditch.’ Over the years, I have often held onto these words of Scripture, “I am offering you life or death . . . Choose life. (Deuteronomy 30:19). Perhaps you also have a Scripture quote or a mantra that helps you, offering you a lifeline when you are out of sorts, in one of those dark moods.

Henri Nouwen, a man who had his struggles with being out of sorts, believed, “One aspect of choosing life is choosing joy. Joy is life-giving but sadness brings death. A sad heart is a heart in which something is dying. A joyful heart is a heart in which something new is being born.” (You Are the Beloved: Daily Meditations for Spiritual Living)

During this pandemic, when so many people are experiencing such terrible, devastating suffering you can be forgiven for thinking it is absurd for me to try to suggest we find joy while we are out of sorts, in a dark mood.  True enough.  Yet, we always do have a choice.  Leaning on each other, I find so often is the only way forward. Supporting one another, encouraging one other, finding strength in each other, holding each other in prayer are some of the best ways forward during this pandemic. Pope Francis expresses this stance, such solidarity in these words, “The Covid-19 pandemic has revealed that all of us, fragile and disoriented, are in the same boat. All of us are called to row together [since] no one reaches salvation by themselves.” (Vatican News: World Day of Peace Message, Oct. 20, 2020)

To strengthen us, especially during our darkest days, God promised to, “give us a new heart and put a new spirit in us.” (Ezekiel 36:26) Even when we are out of sorts during this pandemic, may we trust, with the grace of perseverance, to live in the hope of better days to come. We do have a choice. We can choose life and joy rather than feel like victims of being out of sorts.

-Sister Magdalena Vogt, cps

Contemplative Sitting Network Reflection

I wanted to share with you this article written for the Institute of Contemplative Sitting Network from Sister Nancy Sylvester, an IHM Sister from Michigan.

-Sister Pat St. Louis, csj

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Bruno Barnhart was a Camaldolese monk who died in 2015. In his book The Future of Wisdom, he states, “The Christian history of the past two thousand years has been characterized by a continual tendency to reverse the event of the incarnation and separate once again the divine and the human, Trinity and humanity, God and Creation.” 

David Bohm was a physicist, in fact, one of the most significant in the 20th century, who died in 1992.  He said, “What is preventing mankind from working together….is a kind of thought that treats things as inherently divided…Each part is considered to be essentially independent …It’s similar to a virus…a disease of thought.”

In this time of COVID19, we do well to remember every time we sit in contemplative silence, alone or with others, we are generating antibodies to the above “thought disease” of both church and society.  Intentionally dwelling in oneness with ourselves, others, Earth, and the Divine, however much we are assaulted by thoughts or other distractions, we are in fact about immersing our consciousness in the source of ultimate unity.  We imbibe the correcting antidote.   We experience the unification of ourselves and our fractured Universe.  The Christ is once again being reborn in both ourselves and our world.

-Margaret Galiardi, OP and Nancy Sylvester, IHM

Reprinted with kind permission from Nancy Sylvester, IHM Detroit, MI.    

The Institute for Communal Contemplation and Dialogue is offering 3 programs via Zoom in January, February, and March 2021. To learn more about the newest program, click here: Enter the Chaos: Engage the Differences to Make a Difference.

Spirit brother, Spirit sister

I am… a Mom, a Grandma, a musician, a retired teacher, a Companion — a clay vessel being shaped and reshaped everyday.  It is not the shell I move around everyday with, but the heart that is being molded, all in the Creator’s time.

All my life experience has shaped my heart, raising 4 children, teaching JK/SK students, volunteering as a church musician and in particular, being a member of a “Companions” group.  “Companions” is a group of lay people and one religious sister from the Congregation of Sisters of St. Joseph.  The purpose of this group really is to understand and share and live the charism of the founder of the Sisters of St. Joseph in our daily lives.  This outreach group has had a flow of working/retired, men/women in the group who listen to the movements of the Spirit when praying, sharing, singing, reflecting on personal/world events which impact their lives.

Our most recent “Companions” virtual meeting involved a guest who provided us with his life experience as it related to our topic of reflection: racism.  Our head knowledge of this topic was based on the book, “Me and White Supremacy” by Layla F. Saad.  Our heart knowledge learning was based on listening to this young Indigenous family man and his lived experience of racism. With gentleness, openness, humility and humour he shared his life and work experience.

What immediately struck me and others in our group was his wisdom of heart, being who he was called to be at such a young age (early thirties).  Many of us could relate to him on the level of “being” as we are past the stage of life of “doing”. Living his life, he has realized about right relationship and he expressed a desire to reconnect with his Indigenous heritage after the death of his Indigenous Grandfather.  He spoke the language of right relationship, …love, addressing the needs of others by listening and communicating in a reciprocal manner, especially the elders in his work life. We only have to look at retirement homes during COVID to see where we fail at loving our elders.  He offered practical suggestions of books to read and courses to take which address more truthfully our knowledge of present-day indigenous issues of marginalization.

History books tell the story from the perspective of the dominant person and therefore is a one-sided story coming from a vantage point of power. It was backed up with heart knowledge where inadequate solutions to serious problems caused subsequent physical, social, emotional and spiritual consequences in these communities.  These issues are real, and they are happening to real people. The enduring shame of Indigenous people must be challenged.  We can’t dismantle what we can’t see. We are all racists and our help to address the shame and marginalization, in particular, Indigenous youth must mean we need to relate to them without stereotyping, defining, limiting, and judging.

He shared a story from his work life about his plan to help indigenous youth connect with their heritage in their community.  It was a tree planting project. When he approached the elder (who had no prior dialogue about the plan) as to where the trees should be planted, the elder directed the tree planting group to the outer edge of the boreal forest where this Indigenous community had carved out its community life. The Spirit gave him a moment of humourous reflection with the love lesson of always having meaningful discussions about their needs rather than having a pre built-up plan to solve the issues.

How can an Indigenous community have a boil water advisory for 25 years?! The answer to that question is a personal conversion of heart. Whether it is in omission or commission this suffering in this community is my suffering too.  In order to have common union we must face this community’s suffering and convert our heart.

Our speaker’s passion for learning about his heritage and his desire to claim it was remarkable.  He recognized his homecoming, who he was created to be is the path he must take. What insight, courage, humility, gentleness knowing that his journey is my journey too…who we are called to become, who we are called to be…Love.

Submission from the Pentecost Companions Group:  Jane, Leanne, Jaime, Dena, Sue, Ann.

Be the Bridge

New bridge opens in London, Ontario on the Thames Valley Parkway

I have always been fascinated by bridges.  How they are constructed across chasms and raging rivers intrigues me.  Hence, I was excited to learn about two new bridges being constructed in my neighbourhood, one of which can be seen in the photo above. A recent sunny Sunday was the perfect time to check out those twin bridges and trails that opened earlier this month.   Truth be told, there rarely is anything that is ‘perfect’ not even a sunny Sunday.  Yes, though the weather was ‘perfect’ it was a bittersweet day for early in the morning the news broke of the death of the beloved, iconic Jeopardy game show host, Alex Trebek. 

Those of you who do not know who Alex Trebek was, may wish to look him up on the internet to learn what an amazing man this Canadian-American was.  For those of you who know who he was, here is a bit of Jeopardy fun: “It is a rare, unusual ‘animal’ that could be seen regularly on Jeopardy.” I bet you know the answer!  And the answer is: “Who is Alex Trebek the G.O.A.T.?”  (G.O.A.T. being the acronym for the Greatest Of All Time Jeopardy tournament)

“ With God’s help we can be the reason someone feels welcome, seen, heard, valued, loved, and supported. ”

I have watched Jeopardy for a long time and always admired how Alex Trebek was such gentleman, such an amicable host of the show.  Though it was a game show he was hosting, one always had a sense that this game show host welcomed the contestants as if he were graciously welcoming guests to his home. Alex was a charming bridge-builder, always making contestants feel at ease.  So, while I was walking on the new path and crossed the two bridges last Sunday, my thoughts dwelled on the life and death of Alex Trebek, a bridge-builder.

If you look at the bridge in the photo above undoubtedly your eyes will be drawn to the massive concrete underpinnings upon which the bridge is resting.  The word ‘underpinning’ causes me to connect with the word ‘understanding’ which is something I admired in Alex Trebek.  He had a knack for asking contestants questions to help him understand who they are.  For Alex, and for all of us who desire to understand others, the best way to be bridge-builders, to be a bridge between the other and ourselves, is to understand or rather to ‘stand under’ in support.  Just as the bridge above rests upon what stands under it, so too, we do well to establish underpinnings upon which we can span the distance between others and ourselves, to build a bridge. Such understanding of others is what Margaret J. Wheatley alludes to in her quote, “When we seek for connection, we restore the world to wholeness.  Our seemingly separate lives become meaningful as we discover how truly necessary we are to each other.”

Sadly, we have seen such a lack of understanding or standing under, such a lack of connection in the aftermath of the US elections.  However, we do not have to look across the border to see evidence of what divides people.  It is also evident right here where we are, in our own neighbourhood, our own backyard. It so happened that this week I read the following on the Facebook of the Shalem Institute.  “Here's to the bridge-builders, the hand-holders, the light-bearers, those extraordinary souls wrapped in ordinary lives who quietly weave threads of humanity into an inhumane world. They are the unsung heroes in a world at war with itself. They are the whisperers of hope that peace is possible.” (L. R. Knost; Shalem Institute)

Last Sunday, while I stood on one of those new bridges for quite some time savouring the view, I kept wondering  how I can become more of a bridge-builder right where I am, in my daily life. Crossing a real bridge, especially a suspension bridge, can be rather unnerving, as can be spanning the distance between ourselves and others.  Reaching out to another can feel like crossing the bridge of unknowing with only a glimmer of hope that we will create a connection with the other.  Yet, as expressed by Noah Curran, “When you underestimate what you are capable of, you underestimate what God is capable of doing through you.”  It sounds to me as if God, the bridge-builder par excellence, has entrusted to each of us the mission to be a bridge, to build a bridge especially between ourselves and those who seemingly appear to be so different from us.

“When you underestimate what you are capable of, you underestimate what God is capable of doing through you.”

We are sent to bring light to our dark and desperate world.  We are to go.  To build bridges.  To stand under so we can understand and be bridges despite our differences.  With God’s help we can be the reason someone feels welcome, seen, heard, valued, loved, and supported.  I remember reading about the Backalley Barbers in Singapore who offer free haircuts for impoverished people.  They are young volunteers who learn basic hair cutting skills from professionals and then offer their hair cutting skills to those who cannot afford a haircut.  It seems to me here a pair of scissors is the bridge between these young volunteers and the impoverished in their midst. There are as many ways of being a bridge as there are people.  We can do this.

-Sister Magdalena Vogt, cps

UNMASKING (W)HOLINESS

‘Tis the last week of October.  You knew that already, of course.  If nothing else, the much cooler weather here in the northern hemisphere is a giveaway that November is just three days away.  If you are among those who still go shopping, you will most likely have seen innumerable signs of Halloween wherever you go. On my recent walk through the lovely neighbourhood, I noticed goblins and ghosts and ghouls roaming amongst rustling autumn leaves and the last roses of summer.  Whether we believe it or not, 2020 (the year that wasn’t) will make way for 2021 in sixty-four days. 

So, are you getting ready for Halloween? What kind of mask might you be wearing?  Oh, how could I forget – this year masks will not be a big deal at Halloween.  We have already been halloweened, aka masked, for, what, seven months??  Masking to protect ourselves and others from the Coronavirus, that’s what we have been doing and continue to do.  Not with masking tape, but with masks of various designs and colours no one would have imagined prior to this pandemic.  PPE of one kind or another has become part of our normal attire. Masks and gloves ad nauseam.  Cover-ups everywhere. 

What are we hiding behind our fabric masks and in our homes where we hunker down in our bubbles?  Do I still see the beautiful you behind your mask? Do I remember the whole of you, or have we become strangers to each other, isolated from each other?  I long to see you, the wholeness of you, after these long months.  This pandemic has been hard on us in so very many ways, but has it robbed us of our wholeness?  Or have we instead allowed this pandemic to strip us of our familiar normal busy way of being so that our true self, our (w)holiness can shine through more clearly these days?  As luck, or grace, would have it, this morning I came upon this poem by Bob Holmes.

The Rose After The Hurricane

It's alright to be discombobulated.

It's ok to live in the shambles where everything is blown apart.

For those who live lives of firm certainty cannot know transformation.

It's not until we let go that we can refind ourselves at a deeper level.

Until your life has been blown apart

as you stand on the edge of oblivion,

Until our control falls apart into the chaos of unknowing,

Until our ego melts and burns in the cauldrons of life,

Until we have no whisper of hope left within us

as we stand naked and broken,

our molecules on the cusp of being unmade,

We cannot know in every cell of our being

the grace and love of God that transforms us.

I would say these first stanzas speak loudly to our present lives that offer us 20/20 vision to see ourselves and each other more clearly.  Are we paying attention?  Bob Holmes concludes his poem with these lines:  

Being in being

Woven with eternal threads

of burning, living, light

where we become

Something we cannot fathom.

Such is the grace of God

that unmakes us to make us whole.

If you live in the northern hemisphere, why not go out among the trees to witness their beauty, their wholeness shining through in their golden dying leaves and ponder how you might, “become something [you] cannot fathom.” Perhaps then, quite unexpectedly, you might be led to look at yourself in the mirror to gauge how during these months, slowly, and painfully, your (w)holiness is being unmasked.   

What is (w)holiness? Might I suggest (w)holiness = wholeness + holiness.  Yes, of course, we are all painfully aware of being a mix of beauty and brokenness, of love and lies, of holiness and hiddenness.  Thinking about unmasking (w)holiness takes me back to Brenè Brown’s book, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are in which she, “explores how to cultivate the courage, compassion, and connection to embrace [one’s] imperfections and to recognize that you are enough.” (goodreads.com) Can we reach a point where we stop hiding behind masks and instead choose to embrace our enoughness, our wholeness our (w)holiness? As Bob Holmes concludes his poem, “Such is the grace of God that unmakes us to make us whole.”

- Sister Magdalena Vogt, cps

Lord,

Help us take off our masks,

the ones we wear to hide

from others and ourselves,

the person you made each of us to be …

Unmask us all, Lord,

Help us find the hidden, human beauty,

under costumes, ‘neath our masks,

in everyone around us,

beginning with ourselves

and help us, Lord,

to love each one we find …

-A. Fleming (Excerpt: Morning Prayer, 27 Oct. 2020; A Concord Pastor Comments)