Mary van Balen

(Originally published in the Catholic Times, August 26, 2012 © 2012 Mary van Balen)


I had just returned from a trip to Seattle, and while a three-hour difference in time didn’t seem like it should make much difference to my body clock, it did. I dragged myself out of bed for early Mass, did some grocery shopping, and not much else despite a long to-do list. Then came a call from a friend who had just seen the movie, “The Intouchables.”

The trailer for that movie had intrigued me earlier in the summer, and I knew I would want to see it. Checking my work schedule and the film’s show times, I decided to rouse myself and go. A friend agreed to meet me at the theater. Despite the price, I bought a pizza slice and cup of soda for dinner, and we found a seat.

We were not disappointed. Without giving too much away, I can say this French film about a wealthy French quadriplegic and his live in caregiver, a young man from the projects, is exhilarating and dramatic, a comedy and inspiration. We laughed and shed tears, and left the Drexel theater making plans to bring another friend and see it again. It is that good.

I am glad I saw it when I did, just back from a trip to the other side of the country. While there, I found myself thinking about the diversity of people in the world. How many faiths? How many ways of prayer? The types of jobs, struggles, and joys are as many as the people on the planet. And all have something to teach us. To show us about how to live and how to love. Read More 

Yesterday was the feast of Saint Rose of Lima. The first thing listed in the Catholic encyclopedia article about Rose is "Virgin." Of course. No surprise from a church that covers up sex abuse and struggles to deal with sex and sexuality in a healthy way. I am put off right away. "What about women who are mothers?" I think. Still, second class, I guess. Countless saints, there, I am sure. Someday might "Mother" be first on the list of saintly qualifications? I move on.

Then comes the hagiography: Her infant face was seen transformed by a mystical rose...whatever that means. The list continues with constant prayer, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, secluding herself in her room, committing to virginity, to a meatless diet (the connection to cooking vegan with my sister and sister-in-law) and eventually to eating almost nothing. All this as she struggled against the opposition of family and friends.

As many lives of saints who lived in this period, Rose is said to have practiced severe acts of mortification especially after becoming a member of the Third Order of Dominicans (Her parents refused to let her become a nun.), and worn a metal circlet studded with spikes like thorns everyday, a metal chain around her waist, and coarse clothes. She also fashioned a bed of broken glass, pot shards, and thorns. Will the holiness never end?

On the bright side, she was an artist with a needle and made lace and needlework to help support her family when they fell into hard times. And she preformed works of charity. That gets limited notice in this article.  Read More 

While in Seattle, I visited the Chapel of St. Ignatius on the campus of the Jesuit's Seattle University. The chapel, designed by architect Steven Holl using "A Gathering of Different Lights" as the guiding concept, won a design award from the New York Chapter of the American Institute of Architects and the scale model of it is part of the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The chapel is stunning. All of it. But today, being the feast of Our Lady, Mother and Queen, I decided to focus on one of the striking elements of this place of prayer. I don't identify the title of "Queen" for Mary, but "Mother" is another story.

"Be sure to see the statue of Mary," my Dutch cousins suggested when they learned I would be visiting the chapel with my friend the following day. "It is unique." How right they were. One walks through the chapel doors (a story themsleves) along a sloped entryway and along the processional corridor, and looks to the right into the nave or main sanctuary. Much vies for attention in a subtle kind of way, but my eyes fell immediately on the Mary statue, unlike anything I have seen before.  Read More 

Part Two: "I am doing something NEW...."

Recall, however, that the prophets not only announce to the people an end that the community cannot admit; they also proclaim a hope that the people can hardly believe. There are two dangers or temptations that arise in times of transition. The first is nostalgia, which is essentially a state of denial. The strategy of nostalgia denies that the loss has happened or is happening: with increasing desperation it attempts to cling to a way of life and of faith that are no more.

The second danger or temptation is that of despair, a stance that says that faith is no longer possible in this new situation, that all is lost (alles ist verloren), that no future possibilities are to be found here. Despair inevitably leads to resignation, cynicism, apathy, and spiritual death. Both the strategy of nostalgia and the stance of despair are present in our monastery and in the Church today.

Abbot John Klassen OSB Saint John's Abbey, Collegeville MN
From : Conference, December 10, 2005 "See, I Am Doing Something New!"
Prophetic Ministry for a Church (and a Monastery) in Transition


I have had the privilege of worshipping with the monks of Saint John's Abbey, and at times, I hearing Abbot John preach. The conference referenced above, moved me. While much of it is directed at the struggles of monastics today and though it was presented almost two years ago, it seemed a timely reflection for the current position of the LCWR, the Vatican, and the Roman Catholic Church in general.

The confrontation is an indication of the times of deep change in which we live. Of the overwhelming challenges. Of the need for new ways of responding and being people of faith in the world. The two dangers that Abbot John spoke of are very much present in today's Church. While I am not guilty of the first, I recognize in myself a tendency toward the second. Read More 

No need to remember past events, no need to think about what was done before.
Look, I am doing something new, now it emerges; can you not see it? Yes, I am making a road in the desert and rivers in wastelands. Isaiah 43,18-19


As the representatives of 80% of American Roman Catholic sisters met in St. Louis, one would do well to remember this passage from Isaiah. Sister Pat Ferrell did as she addressed the opening assembly: "We are united in the desire to surrender that which no longer serves so that something new can be born in and through us."

Actually, this statement is just the response needed to George Weigel's article in First Things, The Sisters: Two Views Pitting the two major organization of Catholic sisters in the United States against one another, he questions the vitality and relevance of the more liberal orders, siting their new vocation numbers as evidence. (An article published in the Aug. 13 issue of America Magazine challenges this position.)

What Mr. Weigel does not include in his article is the movement of lay associates that is growing across the country. Lay associates, men and women, married and single, make commitments to existing religious orders and promise to carry out the work and charism of that order. (Associates of The Dominican Sisters of Peace are an example.) During times of change and uncertainty, some people move toward what is familiar, what resounds with reminders of a past that looks safe and desirable from the present vantage point. Others are moved to create something new, rooted in rich soil of the past, but responding to new climates, new questions, new challenges.  Read More