Mary van Balen

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 

“With all its faults, I am still grateful that I live in this country,” my daughter said as we shared breakfast. “I mean, when I wake up I might wonder how hot it is, or what I should wear when I go outside. I don’t wonder if, once I venture outside my house, if I will return safely. Or return at all. Literally.”

Justin, also visiting for the weekend agreed. “Thanks for Justice Roberts. And you likely won’t hear me say that again!” He laughed. Roberts’ unexpected “yes” vote kept Obama’s healthcare reform alive, and despite Republican posturing and promises to overturn the decision or repeal the healthcare act, they will not achieve their end through physical violence. Read More 

"Even now, says the Lord, turn to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning. Rend your hearts, not your garments, and turn to the Lord, your God. For God is great and merciful, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishments..." Joel

"Brothers and sisters: We are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us...Working together, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says: 'In an acceptable time I heard you, and on the day of salvation I helped you. ' Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation." Paul 2Corinthians

"And your Father who sees in secret, will repay you." Matthew


The Hebrew word, "shub" used in the reading from Joel, is often translated "return." But, in this reading Joel gives no indication that he is asking the people to return from a particular transgression. Rather, he implores them to "turn" to God, to ask God's help in dealing with the devastating drought and plague of locusts that has disrupted all aspects of their lives. I changed the translation of the word in the reading above.

Pondering what seems the slight difference between "turn" and "return" has been fruitful for me this Ash Wednesday.  Read More 

Today's Old Testament reading is from Isaiah. We will hear much from Isaiah this advent season, and today's passage (11.1-10) is an example of his confidence in God's goodness and wonder at Divine glory. From the concrete image of a shoot sprouting from a stump, the prophet moves us to the infusion of the Spirit that will fill the One who comes. He will possess wisdom and will seek justice for the poor.

His kingdom is like no other, filled with glorious impossibilities:the wolf the guest of the lamb, the calf and young lion exploring together, the lion eating hay, a child playing in the cobra's den.

If all these probable impossibilities are to come, is nothing impossible? All people living in peace? No wars? No hunger or famine? No abuse?

This morning, I want to believe, but my heart does not resonate with the joy of the verses. I look at my Christmas Cactus, ready to bloom in the midst of gray, rainy winter. Its magenta buds add a splash of color to the room, but I struggle to savor it. Read More 

This year my advent wreath is simple: blue candles in two glass candelabra from my parent's home. I will add a few things as I unpack a holiday box, but simplicity remains the theme.. The old candelabra remind me of my parents' waiting in hope for the birth of each of their children. I arrived after a number of miscarriages. The youngest was an emergency delivery and my father was told that likely neither mother or child would survive. They didn't know my mother's sheer willpower, and my brother inherited her tenacity. Both survived.

Each night as I light the candles, I will remember their faith, hope, and love, and bring it into my prayer. Dad's recent death has left a hole in my heart. Thanksgiving was difficult for me this year. Christmas will be, too, I imagine, though I will have all my daughters home to celebrate.

In today's Morning Prayer reading from Isaiah (43.1-3a) God reassures us: we are redeemed. God calls us by name and is with us when we walk through difficult times. Despite life's changes, including the death of loved ones, this season speaks of hope. Candle flames illuminate darkness as God's Presence fills the earth and our hearts. Read More 

My day off. No alarm set. Still, I rose early, before much light filtered through the blinds. I slipped into some comfortable clothes, feeling for their familiar fabric rather than turning on lights that would shatter the calm of darkness. Jeans, I knew, hung over the back of the chair by my bed. A cotton T. A sueded jacket to ward off chill.

In the kitchen, I lifted the electric kettle to feel the weight of water it held. Enough for a mug of tea. I moved a beeswax candle from my office to the dining room table and lit it. The flame jumped erratically throwing out strobe-like flashes of light. Alternating bright and dark were distracting. I blew out the candle and had a look at the wick. It needed trimmed, and once relit, burned with the steady warm glow of beeswax.

I chose a favorite, round mug made by a potter in Woods Hole on the Cape, drawing sea, salt, and friends into my morning. Just enough dawn to allow me to pour boiling water over the tea bag and stop before it overflowed.

"Honey," I thought. Usually, I drink tea black, but honey was right. Gifts of wax and sweetness from the work of thousands of industrious insects graced time to sit quietly in the Presence of the One who made them. Read More 

Sunday morning when my cell phone alarm began to ring, I fumbled with it until I found the "snooze" button. I had driven all night to return home from a family wedding reception and had set the alarm to wake me for early Mass. My legs did not want to move and neither did the rest of me, but I forced myself out of bed and made it to church a little late. I was glad I did.

"Someone once said that you need three things to have hope," our pastor said as he began his homily. "Someone to love, something to do, and something to hope in."

As I listened to his words, I thought of my life. I had been feeling discouraged. My path had not turned out as I thought it might and its direction was lost in the mist of uncertainty. Still, I had someone to love. No husband, but children, family, and friends. Yes, I am blessed with three daughters, with friends from across the country and around the world: GED students, authors, care givers, professors, and poets.

I have something to do. Read More 

"Three snows after the forsythia blooms"


How long will it last, O Lord?
Will you be angry for ever?
Will your anger blaze up like a fire?
Mid-Morning (Terce) Ps 79,5



My grandma, Becky, used to share this folk wisdom about forsythia and snow each spring as we waited for warm weather to arrive and stay. While on a walk this morning, I saw these forsythia blooms capped with snow that fell the day before: "One," I counted.

I relish lingering cold weather, not one to bask in summer heat, but I know I do not share that sentiment with many in this mid-western state. Becky's adage can also serve as a metaphor for spiritual life and vitality.

As we journey through Lent, we hope for the triumph of Easter Resurrection to fill us with joy and to strengthen our faith. Is Easter what does that? Or is it the waiting, the faithful perseverance of our journey that works this miracle in our souls? Read More 

So they grumbled against Moses. ‘Give us water to drink’ they said. Moses answered them. ‘Why do you grumble against me? Why do you put the Lord to the test?’ But tormented by thirst, the people complained against Moses. ‘Why did you bring us out of Egypt?’ they said. ‘Was it so that I should die of thirst, my children too, and my cattle?’ Moses appealed to the Lord.
‘How am I to deal with this people?” he said. ‘A little more and they will stone me!’
Ex 17, 2-4


After camping in a place without water, the Israelites complained, wondering why Moses had led them out of Egypt in the first place. From the hardships of the desert, slavery wasn't looking so bad. At least slavery as they were remembering it at the moment.

Sometimes, having made choices that lead us to a particular place or situation in life, we can become discouraged with where we are and question why we chose as we did. Uncomfortableness of change makes the old and familiar appealing once again, no matter how bad they really were.  Read More 

God come to my assistance. Lord make haste to help me.








Images on newscasts and online bring the widespread devastation ravaging Japan's Northeastern coast into our homes and hearts, but I had another, more personal connection. On March 7, I stood in line at Tokyo's Narita airport, buying boxes of green tea and a drink to keep me going until Delta Flight 620 would return me to the States through Minneapolis/St. Paul. Four days later, passengers on the same flight were among the last to depart Narita before the airport was closed down. I read they waited seven hours after boarding before the plane was given the go ahead to take off.

As I viewed video and listened to reports, I wondered about the young women who worked at the kiosk where I made my purchases and the crowds of travelers I had seen returning to their homes in Japan. How many of them were headed to the Northeast? What once would have been regarded as remote has been made more immediate through travel and technology. Some of the first images broadcast to the world were taken on cell phones. We no longer need spectacular photos of our planet from outer space to realize that we are one human race bound, one people of God.

As I prayed morning prayer and then searched through the Liturgy of the Hours and Mass readings to find something, some wisdom that spoke to the tragedy. Read More