Keeping Jesus Company

"In the silence of the heart, God speaks.

If you face God in prayer and in silence, God will speak to you.

Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your

nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. 

Souls of prayer are souls of silence."

- Mother Theresa 

     Holy Week began on Sunday with Palm Sunday. As per the tradition, the choir met at ten am and practiced with Sister Regina with the same Palm Sunday songs we do every year. However, there was something different: she wanted me to sing the opening antiphon: Hosanna to the Son of David. I'll be honest; I didn't think I could sing that loudly or strongly. But when she made me sing, I felt like she was Sister Mary Clarence and I was Sister Mary Robert from Sister Act...you know that scene when Whoopi comes in and rearranges the choir and then tells Sister Mary Robert to sing out - loud? Yeah, that happens to me everytime Sister Regina makes me sing. Needless to say, I was a little nervous to sing out in the rotunda in front of all those people. But, after Mass I could feel the Holy Week High coming on.

    In years past, Holy Week was always my most favorite week. This year, I was praying to be filled with the same excitement for Holy Week. For some reason, I had lost my excitement for Lent about week three of fasting and almsgiving. Although, SEARCH did help with my excitement about LIFE, my excitement about Holy Week was still being tucked dormant in my soul somewhere. Starting with my emotional sob fest after Palm Sunday Mass on Sunday Night, the week was a roller coaster of emotions. I cried and laughed many times.

    Again, this year, I partook in the Busy Person's Retreat and this time around my Spiritual Director was Sister Mary. A big focus of my reflections was the idea of servitude to God. My whole life I felt I had been called to be a Servant of the Lord. Even the very word, servant, is important to me. The second day of retreat I prayed with the first reading from ISAIAH in which it was proclaimed: by your mother's womb, I have called you by name. My name, Rebecca, means servant of God in Hebrew. So, as you can see, the word servant is so important and it plays a huge part in my discernment story. 

     As I shared with Sister Mary, often the tears came as I spoke about all the times I have already been blessed to give of myself to others. Tears came when I spoke about the blessing Immaculata has been. And of course, the tears came when I spoke about the Sisters at school who have become a family to me. But as we spoke, she seemed to notice that I wasn't as talkative as usual. Perhaps it was because our meetings were at 9 in the morning or maybe because I didn't get much sleep. But I remember bringing up the idea of having two ears and one mouth for a reason. The reading of the day for Wednesday, our last day of retreat, said something about God hearing us when we cry out. And so, there was suddenly a reflection on not only hearing God's word as a servant of His, but also knowing that God is always listening. 

     Flash forward to Holy Thursday night. In keeping with tradition, Sister Marcelina and I headed to Our Lady of Czestochowa in Doylestown for Mass. While we were a few minutes late (red lights...every single one) and walked in during the Gloria, I couldn't help but notice one thing: the music. But it wasn't actually the music that struck me even though the voices were absolutely beautiful, it was the lack of organ playing. The music was only voices. They sang a meditative hymn: Ubi Caritas and I closed my eyes and listened to the gentle silence of the hymn. All throughout Mass, all I could think of was silence, silence, silence.

     When we got home to the convent, I got in my car and turned off the radio (I have a bad habit of leaving it on when I turn the car off). Typically on Holy Thursday, I make a pilgrimage to either three or seven churches. While I knew I wasn't going to make seven churches considering the hour, but I made it to three. As I traveled, I was surprised to see how many children were out late with their families visiting churches. It made me smile to see how many beautiful families, the true witnesses of the faith, were out and keeping with the Old School Traditions. My first stop was Saint Katherine of Siena parish (aka where I parked my car at the convent). There, everything was stripped down and silenced in the very physical form. There were a few children, families and older couples.  At my second stop, St. Charles, again I noticed the quieting of the atmosphere. Statues were covered in purple linens so as to maintain the quiet and silence. I also noticed that it really drew the attention to the focal point of Holy Thursday night: Jesus. 

      Finally, at St. Ann's, my favorite chapel, it dawned on me. I knelt on the floor and gazed at my beautiful and beloved Savior. All around me was quiet, I had no more words for Jesus. Silence overtook my heart. It was in those sweeping moments that I realized why Holy Week wasn't quite Holy Week for me yet; I wasn't engulfed in a sea of silence. Although, I did share in the tears of Christ all week, I hadn't shared in the quieting of His mind and soul. I realized though, that Jesus' mind was restless on the night of His betrayal. He kept asking His father to let the cup pass. He was experiencing the true pain of being a servant of God as we so often do. I realized last night that I had shared in so much of Christ's passion already and I didn't know it. I had shared in His tears, His anxiety about His future, His overwhelming knowledge of His Father's presence, His pain in being a servant of His Father...and of course, the silence in the garden. As I kept Jesus company in the garden last night, I felt true solidarity with Him. I felt, again, peace of Holy Week. I felt Jesus speaking to me in my silence of heart and mind. It was there in the garden of silence and agony, that I felt one with Him. It's beautiful what simply sitting with one's Beloved can do for one's soul. Thank you, Jesus. 

Normally, I'd add a song here. But in keeping with the tradition of silence, 

my invitation is that you, too, can spend a few minutes in silence with Jesus.