Christmas Message from the Sisters of St. Joseph

Christmas Message  

From the heart of silence leaps the living Word

like the dayspring rising where the dark is stirred

by our hope turned eastward toward the promised light

though the eyes see nothing but the depth of night.

(Genevieve Glen, OSB)

May Divine Love move us ever forward in acts of healing and whole-making.

Warmest Christmas wishes.

May Deep Peace be yours this Christmas Season,

The Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Canada

Christmas Eve: The Long Night

Christmas Eve, in the experience of many, is of a night of exquisite expectation, of fulfillment of the pregnant waiting of Advent and new life coming into being. It is a time of searching hope in the darkness even when darkness threatens to overwhelm us. We seek in the silent night sky, a star of promise.

At an everyday level we gather to begin a celebration. We prepare treats to share. Our excited children can hardly wait at all, creating mayhem and resisting sleep, just in case they miss Santa’s visit to place gifts under the tree! In Christian families a young child may also have a special role focused on the very meaning of Christmas. In my family living in the United States the youngest child, able to read, waits expectantly to be called on to recite the Christmas story from the old family Bible and then to place the baby Jesus into the waiting creche.

Christmas is, of course, a celebration of the birth of Christ so long ago. But it is also much more! Our celebration cannot be reduced simply to a sentimental re-enactment of that familiar scene, lovely though it is. For the very heart of the Christmas story is the vivid narrative of universal incarnation – God with us, God in all things, for time and for eternity. Christmas is, above all, a celebration of Divine Presence in all lives, in all events and in every element of matter – an ancient understanding.

A powerful image of this understanding of incarnation, is found in the Carmina Gadelica, a beautiful compendium of ancient Gaelic prayers and poems collected from the Hebridean Islands by folklorist, Alexander Carmichael.

In a Christmas carol entitled “the Nativity” found in that text we read that on Christmas Eve … in “the long night, Glowed to Him wood and tree, Glowed to Him mount and sea, Glowed to Him land and plain, When that His foot was come to Earth.”

The carol speaks of the light of Christ’s birth penetrating all and reflected in the entirety of God’s creation. Later, these words find more contemporary utterance in the writings of Teilhard de Chardin, Jesuit priest and paleontologist (1881-1955), as he exclaims,

“The Incarnation is a making new, a restoration, of all the universe’s forces and powers; Christ is the Instrument, the Centre, the End, of the whole of animate and material creation; through Him, everything is created, sanctified and vivified (The Phenomenon of Man).

This is what we celebrate at Christmas along with our more traditional practices. Truly it is a celebration, a joyful one but also one that de Chardin says, invites us into its deep mysterious significance not just for Christmas but for all of life in Christ. As we read in 2 Corinthians 5: 17, “if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation, everything old has passed away; see everything has become new.” This is the birthing of Christ in our hearts and world as we celebrate Christmas Eve. In the “long night” we are to birth Christ in the world anew.

This year, the “long night” of Christmas is a seemingly “dark night” for many; a night filled with violent conflicts worldwide, of the sufferings of people fleeing persecution, torture and starvation, a night of ecological degradation. It is a night still struggling with the ongoing shadows and isolation of a pandemic. Rapidly escalating prices in stores mean that many families are desperate simply to provide their children with some festivities. We face a night where the possibility of the light being extinguished forever seems real in ways not previously experienced in our world.

“with the celebration of Christ’s birth we are called to be “God’s light in our world.” ”

And yet … as Christians familiar with mystical references to “the dark night” we find in our faith the light of Christ at the heart of all things, incarnation, the God we can touch. As we celebrate this Christmas Eve and the days ahead may we be reminded that with the celebration of Christ’s birth we are called to be “God’s light in our world.” The silent, enveloping waiting in the long night calls us ever to the primacy of prayer and love in and for the world. It invites us to prepare actions that will make a difference.  Let’s truly celebrate with joy this Christmas and in the “long night of promise” may we share that joy. On this Christmas Eve may we again hear a call to new birth in the face of the challenges of our times. As Christmas dawns in our hearts then all of creation will indeed “glow where His foot was” and will, through us, once again, shine Christ’s Presence “on Earth”.

 -Sister Mary Rowell, csj

Winter Solstice

Decades ago, I attended a Winter Solstice event at the Timothy Eaton Church in Toronto.  There was prayer and singing as the ritual evolved with a gradual lessening of the light until all were there, feeling each other’s life energy supporting one another in the seeming emptiness of complete darkness. All was still, a moment full of mystery blanketed by darkness and silence.

That trembling moment of standing in the absolute present, without guideposts to enable action also called forth an inner exploration of the energy moving within each of us individually as women, as beings, as one small part of the living being that is Cosmos and animates us all.  Imagine a Celtic cross, with energy moving north and south, east and west; from the Holy One to each individual and the depth of their being and then each individual sharing that energy with each other enclosed by a circle of safety, belief and wonder with the Centre bringing forth a cosmic crash of birthing light. There we were in one holy circle.

Our society stresses action and doing, not being.  It is difficult to remain in the darkness of expectant waiting when our world seems bereft and empty, when all that we have seen and known is taken away from us.  It is sometimes near impossible to remember that the light is ever-present while not visible and that life is gestating and preparing to birth again.  At least this was the case for me when our dearest daughter, Kristina, died in a tragic car accident on Easter Sunday, 1991. The powerful transmission of spiritual energy between the generations was suddenly curtailed; I felt suspended in the deep darkness of loss without knowing the way out. It would take years of psychological and spiritual direction before a safe path was hewed through the wild and untamed forests of grief.

Two experiences sustained me then and still do. That night at the hospital while praying with two Associate friends, the words from Isaiah, “You have given all to me, now I return it” were all I was able to articulate, yet their gift was the confirmation of a sure, unwavering faith in the cycle of life and the sacred mystery that is the Holy.  And then came the dream that called me “to the sanctuary, or spiritual center of my being” and took me “beyond linear and spatial limits” to a new consciousness (Geri Grubbs. Bereavement Dreaming and the Individuating Soul. Berwick, Maine: Nicolas-Hays, Inc, 2004). In the dream,

Kristina and I are walking along a dark alley when suddenly, she falls into a deep rectangular-shaped hole. Desperate to rescue her, I climb down the rocky face to rescue her.  The descent into the hole is slow and scary but I manage to do it. Lo and behold, there she is – just as she was – but cradled in a manger filled with straw! I am surprised that it is not dark down here; the space is filled with a deep, golden, warming light. I figure that we will have to climb up the way I came down but miraculously, over to the right, is a shiny, copper ladder fixed against the wall.  We climb up, me first; I woke before I ever knew if she made it out. 

She taught me that no matter how dark it may seem, there is always an ember of Light to sustain us; that, in fact, an ever-present Holy Fire animates our spirit if only we have eyes to see. And when it is time and we are ready, like the mythical Persephone we will be provided with all we need to rise up and out of the earth and flourish once again.  

Since that time thirty-one years ago, I have become a sacred circle dancer.  We always have special dances that honour the Solstices. Part of me never quite understood why dancers were asked to wear white during the darkness of our Winter Solstice Celebrations.  Now I do!

-Susan Hendricks, Associate of the Sisters of St. Joseph

Presence, Grace, and Gift

Sean came to live with me in late December 2020. His mother passed away about 9 years ago when she was 45 years old due to complications from juvenile diabetes. Prior to that, Sean lived with his step-father in Chatham.

Sean is 35 years old and has Cerebral Palsy and is on the spectrum for autism.  Sean functions cognitively around the age of 8-10 years old.

I went to pick up Sean to come live with me on Dec 24, 2020 following the death of his step-dad from pneumonia. Sean’s only sibling passed away suddenly a few years ago at the age of 32, which left Sean with no immediate family except a grandma and grandpa who are elderly and unable to have Sean live with them.  Sean is not able to live alone due to his cognitive abilities. Sean’s biological father is “not in the picture”.

Sean has taught and continues to teach and remind me of so many priceless and valuable life lessons.  For example, Sean is simple and simply lives in the present moment. He doesn’t worry or have anxieties: he simply lives in the present moment.  When his mother, brother, and step-dad passed away, Sean would say that “they are in heaven now watching over us”.

If you ask Sean today, he would say that he is living his best life through God’s grace. He loves camp and loves to help out.  I am convinced an angel, the Holy Spirit, all of the above was looking out for Sean as he immediately landed a volunteer position at an overnight camp where he works in the kitchen. He gets to stay overnight in a cabin he shares with other staff members. The staff are so good to him, they include Sean in after work activities and treat him as an equal.  Sean came from the Chatham area where his step-dad worked and Sean had some experience working as custodial in a factory on modified duties and later in a marine shop.  Sean graduated from a special college program that provides life skills and specialized classes to students with special needs. When Sean lived in the country near Chatham, he would watch TV or listen to music and had little contact socializing with others due to the country setting.

“ I am convinced an angel, the Holy Spirit, all of the above was looking out for Sean ”

The camp director tells me that we need more people like Sean: he is on time for work every day, always completes all chores/tasks and he takes pride in the work he does in the kitchen and shows others how to use the industrial size dishwasher.  Sean never complains and he never asks for anything. 

I am truly grateful for the gift of Sean’s presence through the grace of God.  I am reminded to slow down, not to judge others, not to complain, and to see life as true gift from God.

Sean is a gift from God and during Advent and Christmas, I continue to reflect on Sean’s purpose in life and how and why he entered mine.

-Julie Angiolillo