Sister Selfie and Her Companions: National Catholic Sisters Week

"Real Woman, Real Stories"

"What is so significant in my life that I would be willing to give my life for it?"

- Sister Julie Vieira, IHM

Photo taken by: Rebecca Zenefski

      It was another scathingly brilliant idea my AE had, to send me and Sister Angela to Minnesota for conference on something about nuns. As usual, I agreed not knowing much about the program. Minnesota sounded cool, I guess and nuns were involved so, really there was no denying the opportunity. Weeks later, I found myself, once again on an airplane headed to Chicago for the night to meet up with "my sister" and eventually go to Minnesota the next morning. Before I knew it, we were landing in a foreign state (and country...the midwest is a foreign country). 

     As we gathered at the hotel for the sisters, there was a select few group of students and sisters already arriving. The program didn't actually start until 5:00 PM and we had landed a little before 11:00 AM. Needless to say, we had a few hours to kill. However, the Sisters were encouraged to travel via shuttle to St. Catherine's University with the students. So, on the shuttle we went and soon the students were shown our rooms in the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet's previous Provincial House. If someone asked me to describe my room, I would say, it was a typical nun room. A room big enough for a twin sized bed, a sink, a dresser and a chair. There was a closet, too. Prime living, people. But honestly, all the necessities and all I've ever truly desired. 

     The afternoon was filled with activities like LUNCH, discovering Zentangles (an artistic approach to meditation) and tours of the university and the provincial house. Before we knew it, however, it was time for the festivities to begin. Sr. Angela and I headed over with the group, arm in arm, to the reception. We made new friends and chatted about where we were from, which communities we represented and so on and so forth. Soon, we were ushered into the beautiful ballroom for Dinner and the big welcome speech given by the university's president, Sister Andrea Lee, IHM. Of course, the table talk consisted of getting to know you small talk and lots of giggles between me and my sister. You see, we had a lot to laugh about with all our inside jokes. 

    After dinner, we moved into one of the most beautiful prayer services I have ever experienced. In this building, they have a three floor atrium and so, we split into three groups and surrounded the atrium on each floor. We sang, we gathered, we prayed with the Gospel of John. In the middle of the prayer service, Sister Andrea spoke about how Jesus was calling each of us present in some way, shape or form that weekend. She read out loud a list of all the names of those present and asked that each person respond with "present" so as to acknowledge being present for Jesus. I was happy to hear more than one Rebecca present for Jesus. The solemn environment of the prayer service was so astounding. I will never forgot the emotion that ran through my soul in those moments. 

     Following the prayer service there was an option for a late night even called "Veiled Threats." This session circled around the negative connotation surrounding the habit and the religious vocation. However, the talk began with acknowledging how so many women religious have been left out of history books. Women, especially women religious, are often given the back burner when it comes to acknowledging them with any accomplishments. Women religious have played such a HUGE part in American history establishing the first hospitals, first schools, first etc. The speaker then transitioned into talking about sisters in popular culture. The stories and the images shared in popular culture about Sisters, Nuns and Women Religious are so often false, degrading, and negative. This truly evoked great conversation among the Sisters and the Students. 

      The next morning there were multiple sessions focusing on sharing the stories of women religious. We were encouraged to use social media networking to share sister stories and asked to help with the video archive project which would help get the sisters stories into a huge online video archive for all to access. I found it so interesting that among the young people present, less than a third were active on three or more social media sites. Of course, I found myself bursting with ideas on how to share Sisters' Stories as we sat through the sessions. As a true student, I was taking eager notes. I couldn't wait to get started. 

      While I did love the morning sessions, I think my favorite part of the weekend aside from the liturgies, was the Sister Story Presentation where four Sisters presented a tidbit of their discernment or religious journey. I found myself feeling like a kindred spirit with the sisters. One Sister spoke about her missionary work in South America. Well, it's no wonder that story hit close to home as I have become so passionate about working in South America. I have always wanted to Hispanic Ministry, but in my journey to S.A., the passion grew even deeper. Another Sister spoke about how, even before she really started discerning, she felt a kindred spirit with the Sisters. My favorite part of her story was when she told us how she was sitting in the community room with a few of the sisters when she got the call that she had been accepted into the community. She was there with her sisters and she said, "I had already felt for so long that I was a part of their sisterhood." Finally, another sister (the cutest by far) told the story of how she didn't break up with her boyfriend until the night before she entered the community. My hear actually broke during this story. OH how close to home this one hit. I spoke to her afterward and told her honestly, how close that was to a part of my own story of discernment. However, I told her, I didn't wait too long before I was honest. Their stories were so rich and so deep and so honest. I truly felt in my heart their spirit as my spirit and their love for Jesus as my love for Jesus. Then I remembered, we all kind of fell in love with the same Guy.

     After the Sister Stories, we prepared for Mass. I kept telling Sister Angela that I needed a nap. Anyone who knows me knows that naps are, aside from Mass, the most vital part of my day. If I don't get a nap, I sure do get cranky. But I was on my best behavior and instead just closed my eyes in Chapel for a little bit. Mass was filled with beautiful liturgical dancing, beautiful music (nothing quite beats the sound of nuns singing) and a beautiful homily celebrating women religious. I've always been one fore using "hand motions" during Mass, especially during the Our Father. When I opened my hands to pray the Our Father, I closed my eyes and didn't expect anyone to take a hold of either hand. However, Sister Angela placed her hand in mine and gave a gentle squeeze. She doesn't know this, but she will after she reads this, but that moment moved me to tears. It was an expression of trust, of love and of friendship. She had one hand, Jesus had the other. 

     In the nunly tradition we did a lot of prayer, but also a lot of eating. So, of course, after Mass we had a very fancy sit down dinner. It was after this dinner that I introduced myself, like the brave soul I am, to the president of the university. I told her I was a college product of her cousins, the Immaculata IHMs and that my Sister Cathy said hi. Of course she was happy to greet me. I stole a quick look at her feet just to see if she was actually wearing shoes this time. Earlier in the weekend, I burst out laughing when I noticed her walking around barefoot. I had found a kindred spirit just by noticing her lack of shoe wear. Anyway, I moved to the legendary Sister Amata who was also very gracious. I passed on the IHM hellos to the other IHMs. Of course, I did have to do a little explaining to Sister Angela about how they were both IHM communities but they were different, too. Good thing Sister Cathy has trained me well in community history! 

      We had another late night event and this time it was about Sisters in Film, in particular, "Radical Grace." The few clips of this movie that we watched definitely evoked much conversation and it was during this that I found another kindred spirit (I'm assuming you're thinking...wow this girl has a lot of them...I'll get to that), Sister Mary Kay, who ironically is from Philly. Needless to say when she told me she was from Philly, I actually screamed in excitement and wrapped my arms around her. PHILLY SOLIDARITY, people, it's important, especially since everyone and their sister (see what I did there?!) was from the Midwest. Sister shared a lot about how she advocates for Immigration Reform in accordance with the church and the USCCB. I looked at her and said, "Me, too." Kindred Spirits for sure.

       The next morning, after losing an hour of sleep, we gathered once again for breakfast and then the morning prayer liturgy. At every one of our liturgies, we were encouraged to share signs of peace. In the words of Molly Hazelton, "share peace in the manner most comfortable for you." Good thing everyone liked hugs; I gave so much nun hugs this weekend and I regret nothing. Our final session was about taking what we learned and planning to implement it in our universities and communities. It seemed to me that all the other tables of sisters were very practical whereas we were very visionary. We spoke about needing courage and willingness to share stories. We spoke about learning about one another, learning charisms, learning communities, learning about ourselves. At one point, I was the only student at my table of nunnies. Wow, I was lucky. I shared with them the following:

       The weekend was so incredibly fruitful for me. Not only did I get to hear so many stories, something that as an English major, I absolutely love, but I also got to connect with so many beautiful witnesses of the faith. I expressed how awesome it was for me, as a young person, to hear about their charisms and watch them grow in their personal charisms as they shared them with one another. They each realized that there is so much they all have in common despite their diversity....something I had seen from the very beginning. It was so beautiful for me to be able to witness that...so very beautiful and so very awesome. I was able to find a kindred spirit in so many of the sisters who I met because there are so many similarities of all of us together. It was easy to see a part of me in their stories of discernment, especially the stories of my own sister, Sister Angela. 

       As the weekend came to a close, I counted the amount of Sister Selfies that were taken at every event and with so many sisters. The number was astronomical. I laughed at them and began to feel a sadness. I had had such a beautiful, fruitful weekend which not only helped me in my own discernment of becoming a religious sister, but it also strengthened so many relationships and built new ones. I was amazed that even though I had known Sister Angela for two years, I didn't really know her story. I was amazed, too, at how close a person can feel to another after only a few days with her. I counted myself blessed to have such a special Sister with me, one who was willing to link arms with me, let me nap on her shoulder, and even share a book (we actually read the same book simultaneously in the airport...we're adorable). I shared so many laughs with her, so many laughs that yielded hurting stomach muscles and bright red faces. I shared so many spiritual moments with her in prayer, so many smiles, so many hugs and the list goes on and on. While I enjoyed every moment of the conference and tucked away all the knowledge I gained, the most important part of my weekend was sharing it with her. I don't think she knows how special she truly is to me. But I'll tell you this much, when it came time for us to part ways in the airport, she gave me a tight hug which squeezed s numerous amount of tears out of my eyes. Before I knew it, I was sobbing in the airport like an idiot. Yeah...I guess you could say that Sister Selfie and I bonded; she became not only "my nun" as we students began calling our sister companions, but she also became my sister...God works in so many mysterious ways. And here I am, crying again at the beauty of His goodness, as I write this. 

       National Catholic Sisters Week lasts until Saturday so you better hug as many nuns as you can. Take pictures with them (sister selfies preferred) and hashtag #thankanun. Thank as many women religious as you can because they have done so much for our world and deserve the gratitude. I know, for sure, that I'll be hugging lots and lots of nuns this week. I started today...and of course, got strange looks because THEY DIDN'T KNOW. So, I spread the word. National Catholic Sisters Week. Oh and next week, according to my good friend, Kristie, is subsequently deemed "National Future Catholic Sisters Week." Sure, Kristie, sure. Remember, thank a religious sister (thank a few...) and share their stories. 

 

Beginning at the End of my Comfort Zone

"We must attract them with joy."

- St. Katharine Drexel

     Lately it seems all I have been doing is things way out of my comfort zone. As I slowly got dressed and ready to go this morning, I kept thinking about how uncomfortable I was about to do something I hadn't done in a while. It was going to be awkward, I just knew it. Going to a place I haven't been in a long time, to talk to people I haven't spoken to in an even longer time was going to be utterly awkward. And so, because I needed to get it out there, I tweeted "All I'm doing is constantly going out of my comfort zone." Within a few seconds, my friend Kathy tweeted back at me : "@nunbetter_BG92 Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. You're #winning. Own it." I knew that was God. 

     I got into the car and drove the ten minutes down the road to a place I used to frequent more when I was much younger. I parked the car and headed straight to the cemetery. If someone was going to help me out, I knew it would be my girl, Sister Thomasita. And so, I stood there (freezing, mind you) and chatted away with my dearheart. You see, she is my reason for coming to the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament Motherhouse. She is the reason I pray. She is the reason I ever started discerning in the first place. And even though I never got to tell her, she knows and she looks out for me as if God specifically told her to be my Guardian Angel. 

      After a few moments with her, I headed to the Chapel where I met Sister Odessa. She greeted me with, "My sister, my little sister, oh my sister you've grown up so much. Get in my arms." This woman is someone I barely know and yet, I know her so well. She is a beautiful woman of God and such a great SBS Sister. I hadn't seen her in over a year and yet, she still welcomed me as if it was only yesterday she saw me. Suddenly, I felt a twang of home in my heart. Soon after we visited Katharine in the Shrine, we headed all throughout the Motherhouse to get to the dining room for lunch. This was going to be the interesting part! 

      We walked in and all I could smell was a Louisiana Kitchen. I suddenly realized why I loved New Orleans so much. I was raised to love it; it's in my spiritual blood. All of the sisters were enjoying some Cajun Jambalaya and Southern Spicy Fish; it seemed perfect! Sr. Odessa and I sat down at a table in the corner and began to enjoy our lunch as we talked about being an educator in today's world. Usually, I'll admit, when I am around new people, or people I do not know well, I'm not much of a talker. The internal me (this is hard to believe for many people...) is actually very quiet, shy and has an intense comfort zone. This was definitely out of my comfort zone, and yet, I was talking much more than I normally would. Before I knew it, a few other sisters I had never known before until today, sat down at our table. Conversation was flowing wildly; I never expected it.

       Like I said, talking about things very personal to me is so hard for me to do even with friends (and they will tell you it's hard to get things out of me...). I wasn't in the least bit shy or quiet or even uncomfortable. In fact, I felt right at home. I felt a love for these sisters I had never felt before in my heart. To make things even better, their President (they don't call her Mother General or Mother Superior) came over just to say hello and wish we well on my upcoming New Orleans trip (I leave Sunday...am I packed? Nope.). I felt so very blessed. 

        As lunch was ending, Sister Odessa had to head to a meeting and so another dearhearted sister lead me out. However, leading me out also meant a stop to her bedroom for a book on the Chapel at Xavier University in New Orleans and another stop in Chapel, where she blessed me and thanked God for my presence (that's actually never, ever, ever happened to me before.). Then, she proceeded to walk me to the car and you will never guess what happened. It started snowing. Just another confirmation from God that I was where I was meant to be at that moment.

       As I drove home, I couldn't help but think of things that had once been so prominent on my heart. From the very beginning of my discernment, I put my foot down saying I wasn't meant to be a Sister of the Blessed Sacrament. I didn't want people to believe I was doing it as a "pay-back" to God for the miracle He gave my Daddy. I wanted people to believe it was God calling me, because it was me not because I was miracle boy's (my family's nickname for him....) daughter. I grew up with them, yes, but I didn't know them like I knew the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth or the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. I had no discernment history with them! I love both the CSFN and IHM Charisms and know so much about the work they do. Yet, I know barely a thing about the SBS. I could tell you every CSFN Province in the world and every country the IHMs have been in. Yet, nothing again about the SBS. Of course, every single time I walk into that Chapel, I can only think one thing: Mother walked here. 

       This past Summer, when I found out that the parish we stayed at in New Orleans used to be an SBS mission, I almost cried. The building, apparently used to be the old convent where Mother Katharine herself stayed when she visited. SHE WALKED THE SAME FLOORS I DID!!! How could I have forgotten that she did ministry in NEW ORLEANS?!?! Like honestly, I was kicking myself for forgetting. And then again, when I was in Jamaica in August. Mama K never went there, but given the chance to go international, I think she would have. What was I doing when I was in both places that I realized the spirit of Mama K so deep in my heart? I was ministering to the poor, the abandoned, the homeless all that she herself had done. But the biggest was that I was with the African Americans and Jamaicans. Her ministry was to the Native and African Americans. It all became so clear in my heart and mind. How could I have possibly ruled them out without giving a deeper look into their charisms and spirituality and ministry?!? HOW?!?

      Every time I visit the SBS Motherhouse, I get chills. It's as if Katharine is right there with me. I remember back when I was a Sophomore in High School giving an interview on Katie's Feast Day. The reporter asked me what my relationship with Katharine was like. I answered, "I don't really have one, I don't really know her yet." How right I was. But now that I've been doing the same ministries as Mama K, and literally walking in her foot steps, I am blown away about how much of her spirit I share with her. I am blown away by the chills that run through me when I touch the pews she sat in, when I walk the halls she walked, when I pray next to her. Chills because Mother Katharine lives through me. When I look at the picture above, I can honestly say how familiar she looks to me, like a friend, like a sister. Of course, the more I learn of her life, her humility, her words, I feel closer and closer to Mama K, more than ever before. 

       When I was with the Sisters today, I heard so much about their work in different places throughout the United States. I heard about the joy they spread and as I contributed so much more to the conversation than I thought was ever possible, I felt their joy radiate in my hear. When Sister was walking me to the car, she said something that I will always remember: "We don't see as many vibrant young people like you here. You gave me hope today. Our world needs you because you are like your grandmother (Bea!!) and so much like Katharine. Oh if only she knew you. We need another Katharine, we need you." With a hug and a kiss on the forehead, my newest sister sent me on my way. Somewhere in my day was another confirmation of my path in life. Whether I am meant to follow in Katharine's footsteps even closely or simply always carry her with me, remembering my roots, where this whole thing started, I'm not sure. But God was with me today and He gave me such a beautiful experience. And to think, none of it would have taken place if I didn't step out of my comfort zone!! Thanks God. Thanks Mama K!

How To Survive Convent Life - Lesson #3

"In order for one to survive convent life, one must be willing to sacrifice all one holds dear and play basketball in a skirt."

- Lesson #3

    There is something about opening the door to a place one has called home for years. No matter how long one has been away or how far or even how great the time away was, the warm homecoming feeling is simply overwhelming for both the heart and soul. The feeling I speak about is so freshly imprinted on my heart as I experienced it on Saturday when I visited one of my favorite convents that I had certainly been away from for a while. Let me tell you, however, that this was no ordinary visit.

     A typical visit at this particular convent usually consists of bonding in the community room either by conversation, working on a puzzle or watching a movie. However, on nice days, walks are enjoyed by the lovely view of the ... highway. Yes, and then most times I'm invited to elongate my stay by staying for dinner because the sisters simply do not want me to leave. Whether I'm visiting after morning Mass or for the night, there is always a meal (probably why I love the discernment during a meal). This visit, in the terms of food, was like all the others.

      I was invited during my CREW week, to come over the following Saturday to celebrate a birthday. One of the many things I've noticed in my years of discernment is that the sisters certainly know how to celebrate. So, when I walked in to find the whole kitchen decorated with birthday decor, I was not surprised. I shall three sisters in the kitchen: one watching the stove, one laughing and smiling and one chasing the flies with a fly-swatter. Besides myself in the room, there was one other person: a little boy, who's name was Michael, with the biggest and brightest smile I had ever seen and the best laugh. He was watching fly-swatter sister with the utmost joy. I found myself watching in my quiet way and smiling at all the interaction. I wanted to freeze the moment of joy forever. 

      Within minutes, we were all sitting around the table in the kitchen, with the addition of one other sister (my high school principal), eating the delicious meal prepared by the sisters with the recipe of the little boy's grandmother. "Finally," he said, "my birthday celebration in the convent." With much patience, he had waited three years to have his birthday celebration in the convent. Since he was "finally a teenager," the celebration could happen. Together we dined, we shared stories and we laughed; really, truly laughed. At the end of the meal, like a family does, each of us took our places either by the sink washing or drying, or around the kitchen, putting things away; the little boy included. 

       One of his birthday wishes of the day was to play basketball with the sisters. So, the younger sisters and I myself, began heading out the door to the school gym. However, as it very often happens, I was snagged by my dear high school principal just for a chat. I promised to join the fun as soon as we finished our conversation. That conversation really did change so many perspectives I had of the dear sister. Despite her being my principal for four years, I was never really gifted with the chance to sit and chat with her as if we were old friends. That night I had that opportunity. Now, if this blog post was about that chat, I'd spend more time on it. But, this is a post about birthday parties. So, I quickly hurried over to the gym to play basketball. 

        When I first started discerning religious life, I made the decision that I would do every possible thing in my habit. Playing basketball, while not originally on the list, is now. I had almost forgot I was wearing a dress as I chased the boy and Sister around the gym bouncing the basketball and shooting. I was never much of a good athlete in my younger days, and I wouldn't consider myself one now, but at least I can move in a skirt. Yes, we played and played and played for at least an hour before Sister and I were finally worn out. Our dear boy, however, had so much more energy than both of us combined. So, instead of playing more basketball, he decided we could put on a talent show. 

         While we were shooting hoops, my body embraced the giant, open, floor and pretty much began dancing on its own. While never having taken more than a year of ballet, I remember so much and whenever I get a wide open space, I make use of it. Between hoops, I would spin and jump across the gym. Unbeknownst to me, Michael had seen me dancing and asked me to teach him how to dance for our talent show. So, I showed him some basic cha-cha steps alone, and then showed him how to dance it as a pair. Within minutes, he grasped the concept so well and was ready to perform. 

         After we performed our cha-cha for our audience of one, he asked me if I knew how to sing. I couldn't lie, so I answered yes. I was shocked when he asked me to sing for him. For those who know me, and for those who don't, my voice is my deepest prayer. I love to sing, and yet, I'm very shy about singing for others. Even for Michael, I was being extremely shy. But it was his birthday, and he had been extremely precious all day. So, I did. I got up on the stage that overlooked the gym and sang our favorite Christmas song, "O Holy Night." As I sang, I closed my eyes, floating into my own world surrounded by music, peace and prayer. When I finished, immediately he burst into applause and that's when Sister came over to tell me he told her I gave him goosebumps while singing. He couldn't wait for me to sing another song. So, I sang the Ave Maria for him. 

      By the end of our talent show, it was time to head back to the convent for cake and ice cream, where he then asked me to sing again for the sisters who weren't playing basketball with us. After having done so, one of the sisters put her arm around me and just smiled. No one really knows I have this huge voice held deep inside this little person. When cake and ice cream was over, it was time to take Michael home to his house around the corner. He couldn't stop talking about how he wanted me to sing for his parents, too. And of course, I did. This time, he recorded me singing so he could remember my song forever. 

      Now, I know you are probably wondering, what 13 year old would want to celebrate his birthday at the convent with nuns? Or play basketball with them? Or get goosebumps when I sang? Or remember my song forever? You see, Michael, isn't like most 13 year olds. Doctors have placed Michael somewhere on the autistic spectrum and he goes to a special part of his school for his learning disabilities. However, you really wouldn't notice this right away. He is a genius with a phenomenal vocabulary for a 13 year old. It's the little things about Michael, the things I love, that make him who he is. 

      At the end of the night, Michael had given me such peace. He had brought such joy to my heart and given me self-acceptance. Not only that, but little does he know, he became convent life lesson #3. He showed me that I might just have to play basketball in a skirt with my students. He also showed me that I have to sacrifice and share those things that are so dear to me. By the end of the night, my fears of sharing my voice were gone and I could have easily shared with the whole neighborhood. He showed me by his own special talents and gifts, not to hide my own because they could bring so many others joy, happiness and goosebumps. Happy 13th Birthday, Michael. Thanks for letting me spend the special day with you!! And here's to many more adventures with you, my new friend!