The trip to the Apostles of the Sacred Heart

I dialed the number and inhaled deeply.  This call felt awkward.  I didn't know exactly why I wanted to visit. I didn't feel prepared to talk.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Um, yes, my names is Robert Berra, and I'm a student at Yale Divinity School in New Haven.  My great grand-aunt was a member of the Apostles until she passed away in 1995.  Her name was Caroline Berra.  I am wondering if I could come visit sometime in the next two weeks..." 

She gave an affirming answer and asked me to wait as she put me on hold. She came back about five minutes later.

"Robert, Caroline was one of the founders of the adult day care we have on site.  I'm emailing your information to our archivist who is here on Mondays and Thursdays.  She may have some information for you."
_____________
I really started to ask questions about Sister Caroline in the fall of 2008.  At Arizona State University, I took a course on "Sex and Gender in American Religion." We spent some time talking and reading about Catholic convents and the Protestant detestation of them, particularly in the 1800s. It was then that I remembered that there was a religious sister in my family. And so I went looking for Sister Caroline’s information because of my class readings and because I recently decided to join a local New Monastic community through a local Episcopal Church. The Apostles are not Benedictine as such, which is the monastic tradition I most closely identify (though I am finding that there is a Dominican streak running through me); still it was heartening to know that I'm treading a path that has already been traveled in my family: the path of professing vows for/to the service of God, the Church, and all people. Caroline's journey to taking vows has figured into both my exploration of religious orders and re-appropriation of the some of the substance of catholic Christianity.  In moving to New Haven, it was somewhat on my mind that the Apostles were based three miles away in Hamden.

Since meeting a sister of the order while I was a chaplain intern at the Hospital of St Raphael in New Haven, and then running into the sisters in other public places, I've felt the pull to visit the Apostles of the Sacred Heart since August.  The time never seemed right for a visit until a few weeks ago, as Spring Break approached. Then as I checked her obituary in preparation for the phone call, I noticed  that the hospital I served in this summer was the same hospital in which she passed away.
_______________

The following day, I received an email from another sister, based in Pennsylvania.

Hi Robert (Bob),

I'm Sr. S. and I received an email from one of our sisters saying that you were at Yale and related to Sr. Caroline.  I lived with her at the Manor for a good 20 years until her death.  We were good friends.  I also taught Karen and Michael Berra at St. Ambrose.

Presently I'm stationed in Pa., but I'm coming to Ct. this Weekend for a workshop.  I'd love to meet you and or talk to you. What can we arrange?

 We made arrangements to meet the coming Friday evening at the Manor.
_______________
I was let into the manor by a sister who asked me to take a seat in the darkened lobby.  The overhead lights were off, and the room was lit by two lamps.  Sr. S. had not yet arrived.  I sat down on a couch in the darkened lobby and listened carefully.  Somewhere, a radio was playing Stevie Ray Vaughn's "Pride and Joy."  I smiled.  That's a great song.  It seemed like the manor was shutting down for the night.  There was little movement; the place was quiet except for the tell-tale sounds of banging hotel pans told me that people were cleaning a kitchen.  A few sisters walked by me slowly--the couch was by a door opening to the main corridor--they smiled and said 'hello.'  I returned their greetings.

Did I know why I was there yet?  No.  I didn't even yet know what I wanted to ask.

S. arrived about ten minutes later, and still having little sense of what I wanted to know,  I asked S. to simply speak of Caroline.  S. suggested we go down to the adult day care that she and Caroline helped start in 1988.  As we went she pointed out pictures of Caroline as she saw them.

(Caroline is in the foreground with the back turned)

This particular picture S. stopped to elaborate on.  In 1993, the sisters decided to put on a play based on the film Sister Act.  S. said that Caroline really did a wonderful job as Whoopi Goldberg's character, and that it was a shame that there was not a video of the event. Another picture was a football game event around the Superbowl in 1992.

(Caroline is once again in the foreground facing away.)

We entered the day center and sat down.  I began to show S. some of the material I had:  Caroline's obituary, the program from her funeral Mass, and a drawn genogram to show her where is was in the family in relation to Caroline.  S. asked me to speak a little of my own life, and I told her of my journey from Alabama to Arizona to Connecticut, and from the Southern Baptist Church  to near-ordination in the Episcopal Church.  I mentioned that I wanted to learn about my family in general, but I was also interested in how Caroline lived out her religious vows, and I confided that I was also looking at the vows I would soon be taking.

I asked S. to tell me about starting the center and living with Caroline. What was she like? Caroline was normally a very reserved person, and only one person, a sister Cecilia, could get her to play dress-up for events and parties they threw. But once she was in character, she really enjoyed it. Caroline used to joke that once the day care reached fifty occupants, she would retire from it. The rest of the staff jokingly decided not to tell her once they (rather quickly) sailed past fifty. She was very artistic and loved crafts. She must have been rather resourceful, because the center started with very little and they often had to improvise.

S. and I then continued to walk through the center, which is a beautiful space, where we found the photo albums for the center.  S. and I went through, and she allowed me to take the photos of Caroline (which I will return).

After gathering some photos, S. and I walked back to a table and spoke for some time.  I asked her about her own work as a teacher in Pennsylvania, working with mentally handicapped children and young adults. At around 9pm, she asked if I had a ride home and offered to take me back to New Haven. I accepted.  As we parted I wished her well and blessings and safety in her travels; she did the same and said it was wonderful to meet someone from Caroline's family and think on the wonderful memories.
_____________________________

A few weeks later, March 22nd rolled around; the day Caroline passed away and the day she is memorialized in the ASCJ.  It was also the day of my middler review, in which the seminary/divinity school has a conversation with the student about how things are going. Thanks to the visit, I had some sense of my way forward in the Transitional Diaconate.  It's odd and wonderful really.  I came back from the visit with an answer to a question I didn't know how to ask.

The next day I took a trip out to North Haven--where she is buried--and I paid my respects.

I'm am thankful that S. took the time to speak to me about Caroline; and I am grateful to Caroline for her service to God and her example to me.

O God, the King of saints, we praise and glorify your holy
Name for all your servants who have finished their course in
your faith and fear: for the blessed Virgin Mary; for the holy
patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs; and for all your
other righteous servants, known to us and unknown; and we
pray that, encouraged by their examples, aided by their
prayers, and strengthened by their fellowship, we also may
be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; through
the merits of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Time and family

In two months, to the day, I will be ordained a Deacon in the Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Arizona (provided that God is willing and the people consent).

Wow, it is becoming a reality in my mind.  More on this later.
_________________________________

Tomorrow I will be contacting the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, a group of Roman Catholic women religious with a community in Hamden, CT.  I mentioned this September, on this blog, that I have a family connection to this order--my grandfather's aunt was a sister--and I've felt a pull to visit the community for reasons unknown to me since I have been in New Haven.  I'm hoping to visit over some of a day during this spring break.

Another odd fact jumped out at me today.  In preparation for contacting the Apostles, I pulled out Sister Caroline's obituary, only to discover that I was serving as a chaplain in the same hospital in which she passed away.  

Another synchronicity has presented itself.  Sister Caroline is memorialized by the Apostles on March 22nd, the same day as my middler review at YDS.  Considering that Caroline's journey to taking vows has figured into both my exploration of religious orders and re-appropriation of the substance of catholic Christianity, that she is memorialized on the same day as a significant moment in my formation seems wonderful to me.

Holiday Review 4- Saying Goodbye

I have two great aunts. Both have been on this Earth for more than 90 years. Both are ready to leave. When they said goodbye to me over the break, it wasn’t the “see you next time” goodbye, it was the “see you on the other side” goodbye. It was very close to those exact words. We were at my parent’s house after lunch and doing the gift exchange.

One of them, the older of the two (Nellie), well, I hadn’t been prepared for how much she had deteriorated in my absence. She can no longer hold up her head when she is standing. It was at my parent’s house that she started saying her goodbyes, she in a recliner lying down and I at her side kneeling. There was nothing for me to say. Anything would seem trite. I did what I could and I’m not sure how to explain what I did. I held one her hands, kept my other on her head, kept eye contact and…exuded as much love as I could muster.

Watching my priests I’ve learned that there are times when words fail and that I should be comfortable with not having to resort to mere words. Mary hugged me before my wedding and I felt a strength and love that mere words failed to convey; Gil simply sat and listened as I talked of my Grandmother when he took me through the burial rite, and I felt a comfort and a closure that I would lack without presence. Presence is underrated and perhaps it should be more often distinguished from mere closeness.

We should have been walking out. We had two other households to visit that day but I couldn’t bring myself to go until I felt excused by her; I was with her for 15 minutes and it seemed to be just me and her in that house. At times everyone else was completely blocked out. My mother couldn’t hear anything that was going on between us, but she said my aunt looked more at peace than she had been in a long time. I left her with a blessing.

…And then there was the younger aunt (Mable), who was struck speechless (and she is not often speechless) by my incredibly simple gift.

What could I have said? “Keep fighting!”? No, that just shows my own selfishness. Part of my silence was to avoid saying “go with God.” They want to go home and they are both occupied with thinking about Heaven (whatever that actually is). Their own apparent eagerness to leave this world shows me how I should feel about their own passing when it happens: joy. I’ll be pained, certainly. But I can imagine their joy and I am strengthened.

Unsettled- holiday review 1

I'm back in Mesa and I'm reflecting on the trip home over the holidays. There were no unpleasant experiences to mention but I spent quite a bit of time in an emotionally and spiritually unsettled state. No single event sent me into a slump; it was the totality of a few things.

One reason for the slump was a change in routine, actually, it was the lack of a routine. To compare:

My disciplines in Mesa

1. daily reading from the Rule of Benedict
2. two weekly Eucharists, sometimes three
3. the Daily Lectionary (sometimes playing catch-up if I miss a day)
4. Tuesday Noonday Prayers
5. Church/ Theology related reading
6. Rosary/meditation about 5 times a week

My Disciplines in Mobile

1. daily reading from the Rule of Benedict
2. one weekly Eucharist
3. the Daily Lectionary, but only half of the days
   
4. Tuesday Noonday Prayers
5. Church/ Theology related reading / one wonderful fiction
   
6. Rosary/ meditation once the entire trip
   

It was to be expected that the routine I have would be hard to keep. I apparently do a lot at the daily level. I had obligations and demands on my time from friends and family that took some of the time I would spend in my disciplines. I don't regret any moment with my loved ones though. The situation was what it was. I wasn't about to tell the people that loved that I required at least 30 minutes a day in solitude. I at least faithfully kept to the requirements of St. Brigid's Community.

Other reasons for my unsettled nature

1. My conversation with Jim and Mary
2. The growing gap between me and my friends at home
3. I was expecting a theological showdown that did not happen
4. I'm displeased with my own lack of humility
5. Being given a final goodbye by my great-aunts
6. My sister doubting the sincerity of the Anglican style of worship. I expected this and I appreciate her honesty, though I dislike the implication that I am locked in a dead style of worship.

The next few posts will deal with the above in detail.

Reconnecting to a Catholic Root

I've talked about the fact that I was raised in a Southern Baptist congregation. What I haven't mentioned is what is even further back in my family history in regards to religion. My mother's side of my family, at least to my knowledge, is uniformly Baptist; my father's family, however, was mainly Roman Catholic. It is through my family connection to a more Catholic form of worship that I find continuity of faith and, frankly, an expression of faith that makes me more mindful of the Trinity.

When my Grandfather died in March and my aunt was dividing up his belongings, I received his rosary and wall crucifix. Here is a picture of his rosary.



When I received it I felt honored; I think it had once been mentioned that I should get it when he passed away and rosaries tend to mean a lot to people. I decided that since I now had one perhaps I should learn how to pray it.

I then started to wonder if the Episcopal/Anglican church uses rosaries, especially since the two Churches are so similar. It turns out that they do and I now have an Anglican rosary.



The structure is different from the traditional Catholic rosary. There is the cross and then 33 beads in all (four sets of 7 "week" beads, 4 cruciform beads, and an invitatory bead). A full explanation of the symbolism is here. I don't focus on Marian devotion so much (neither do all Catholics for that matter, there are other Catholic rosary forms). There are no set prayers with the Anglican rosary but rather suggestions that can be mix and matched. I'm changing my prayers to reflect the liturgical seasons though...tomorrow starts Advent. In any case, I find using a rosary to be helpful in ordering my prayers.

In my "Sex and Gender in American Religion" seminar, we have spent some time talking and reading about Catholic convents and the Protestant detestation of them. It was then that I remembered that there was a nun in my family. And so I went looking for Sister Caroline’s information because of my class readings and because I recently decided to join a local New Monastic community through a local Episcopal Church. She was a member of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Hamden, Connecticut. She entered religious life in 1941 and died, still in the Order, in 1995. It's heartening to know that I'm treading a path that has already been traveled in my family.

So, heirlooms and history help me connect to a style of worship that feels more familiar and meaningful to me.

And recently I have been thinking about what Protestantism lost in the effort to separate itself from a Catholic style of worship. My reflections on this comes from my experience in the Baptist church I attended.

1) The liturgical calendar. In the Baptist Church, there was Christmas and Easter. We seemed focused on Jesus' birth and death but the rest was not as important.
2) the Lectionary. The pastors I grew up listening to, well, there never seemed to be a method to the madness. With the lectionary, there is a system of readings from the Bible and, in most cases, priests use sermons to elaborate on these readings. It is more holistic than the preacher who picks a verse or five and connects them without regard to context. The lectionary system also helps me remember the content of the sermon. I fankly do not remember much of what my old preacher said. I remember him (or another Baptist preacher) talk about sins of commisssion and ommission, that the Palestinians should read the Bible and realize the the land belongs to the Israelis, and that celebrating Halloween will send me to Hell. That's it; I don't remember much else.
3) Good works vs. Faith. Southern Baptists follow sola fide with a passion, to the point at which they said that Catholics would go to Hell because they only cared about works. I agree that faith is important (correct doctrine is fuzzier) but there must also be works. We are called to works (Matthew 25:31-46) and I think the focus on Jesus' death obscures that for the Baptists.
_____
Correction: Tomorrow is Christ the King; Next Sunday starts Advent.