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 

Please excuse the long gap between blog posts. I have been moving and though progress has been made, boxes abound and my office looks as if its contents were dropped into place by a windstorm. I took a few photos to use today, but can't find the little usb cable I need to connectcamera to computer. Thus the clip art!

Despite the lack of time off to put my new place together, I have managed to make the flat livable, even pleasant, in the time I have had. Family and friends have provided unending support from spotting the apartment, to moving boxes, hanging prints and a mirror, and building a seven foot long counter high enough to double as an eating place in the kitchen.  Read More 

"Hurray," I shouted.

"It's on!," my neighbor said.

I was never as happy to see a headlight shine bright as I was tonight. My daughter and her friend had taken me to dinner and while driving home I remembered that I had two new headlight bulbs in the back seat for her to install. I called. She said the owner's manual would give me directions and the job should not be difficult.

"If you can't get it, I can help tomorrow night."

"OK. I'll give it a try when I am home."

I turned into the driveway and pulled close to the garage incase the job lasted longer than the evening light. The manual made it sound easy if I could figure out what the "hold down wire" was and if the power steering fluid holder came out easily. In just a few minutes I had the new bulbs out along with a packet of some sort of grease that the salesman said I could put on the connectors. Read More 

PHOTO:Hamilton CA Habitiat for Humanity
And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is rich but the laborers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send laborers to his harvest.’
He summoned his twelve disciples, and gave them authority over unclean spirits with power to cast them out and to cure all kinds of diseases and sickness. These twelve Jesus sent out, instructing them as follows: ‘Go rather to the lost sheep of the House of Israel. And as you go, proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils. You received without charge, give without charge.’ Matthew 9:35-10:1,5,6-8


Jesus was moved by the people he saw. He needed help to address their needs, but looking around he wondered,"Where is everybody?" His disciples received the commission: Give freely what you have been given. There is a hurting world out there. Heal it. Change it.

With global communication today, we are excruciatingly aware of suffering around the world as well as at home. In addition to truly noteworthy news, as soon as we turn on our computers we are bombarded with stories-just a click away-about a movie star's speeding ticket, who wore what on the red carpet, and healthy food choices at the mall.

PHOTO:Philanthromedia.org
Who wouldn't be overwhelmed? Easier to stay home cocooned in one's close circle of family and friends and let the world fend for itself. We have enough problems of our own. After all, what difference can one person make? Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Jesus was walking along the sea of Galilee and saw two fishermen casting their nets out for a catch. He called to them and asked them to leave their nets and follow him and he would make them fishers of men.

What would make two grown men leave their nets and follow a stranger who promised to make them, of all things, fishers of men? What does that mean anyway? The only thing stranger than the invitation was the response of Simon and Andrew: Sure. We'll leave everything we know to follow someone we don't to become something we are not sure what it is. Read More 

PHOTO:Mary van Balen
Yesterday was a struggle. Perhaps, as my spiritual director suggested, this year's holiday season will be difficult. When she mentioned that a week ago, I was quick to respond: "Oh, I don't think so. I have been living on my own for close to two and a half years. Besides being legally recognized, not much has changed. I'll be fine."

She smiled, and knew better I suspect. This time last year my three daughters joined dad and me for Thanksgiving. This year, Dad is in a nursing home, and I baked a ham tonight to give him an alternative to turkey when my daughter and I have dinner with him at noon on Thursday. Later my daughter and I will visit one of my brothers and his wife. I need to be in bed early to be ready for work in at 4:45 am on Black Friday (Stay tuned for that one!).

Many times all three daughters have not been able to make it home for Thanksgiving. What is different this year is that there is no family home for them to return to, and there will not be again, at least not in the traditional understanding of "family home." Read More 

Photo: Mary van Balen
On the last two mornings of September I walked with a friend along paths that wended through her property. New England Asters, golden rod, bindweed, and bittersweet splashed color across fields of browning green grasses and dark stalks that once held summer flowers. Fog hung hundreds of spider webs with crystal drops revealing the variety of design: some webs lay close to the ground, others hung between tall grasses. Later, we sipped tea and ate a breakfast of dates, nuts, and thin toast with butter. A perfect way to say good-bye to summer and September. Read More 

Many things, including this blog, were put on hold for the past week while I was busy packing boxes, making runs to Headstart or the Saint Vincent de Paul center with donations, and sorting through the last possessions left at the house as we prepared for closing.

I look on the successful sale of our home in this difficult economy as a grace. On the market for just a little over two months, our home was purchased by a young couple as taken with the park-like backyard as we had been twenty-eight years ago, and handing my house keys across the table to them was a joy.

Getting to that closing, however, in the three weeks from contract to sale, was not easy and included a hastily put together garage sale, endless phone calls and emails to determine what should be saved and what could be given away, and dividing what remained of jointly owned goods. Read More 

LINK: Text of President Obama's State of the Union Address

PHOTO: CHARLES DHARAPAK/ ASSOCIATED PRESS
Two phrases from President Obama’s State of the Union address remain with me this morning. One is “a deficit of trust.” He was talking about American’s lack of trust in their government and the lack of trust between our political parties. It makes working together impossible. No compromise, no legislation, no progress. The status quo reigns when those responsible for leadership and change don’t believe that others share their vision and genuinely want what is best not for their re-election but for the country.

The second phrase came early in the speech when Mr. Obama recalled times of uncertainty of the very existence of the United States. It was not predetermined or destined to be. “We chose to move forward as one people,” Mr. Obama said. As a people we must chose to move into the future, but there is no movement without trust.

Implications of the national deficit of trust are clear: No movement. No change. The poor, uninsured, and unemployed will continue to live in fear of illness or accident. They will wake up worried about basic food and shelter. Jobs that do not provide living wages will continue to look better than no job at all, a reality many stare in the face everyday.

This morning I am thinking also of effects of a “trust deficit” in situations other than the current impasse in the US government. Lack of trust effects relationships between countries making fear mongering easier and isolation attractive. Combating ignorance and the fear that fuels prejudice and violence is impossible when one feels threatened by the other.

Employees generally are not as productive as they might be when suspicious supervisors and managers monitor their every move expecting the worst. When enthusiasm for the company’s work is lost and everyone looks out for personal advancement at the expense of others, morale plummets.

Relationships crumble without trust. Marriages fail when the partners no longer believe that the other has the best interest of both at heart, but focuses on himself or herself instead. Friendships wither when not watered by trust.

And what of the most personal form of trust: trust in God-With-Us? In the wake of Haiti’s devastating earthquake, I have heard people question the existence of God: “It makes belief in a benevolent God hard to hold on to,” one person said. The age-old question of God and suffering resurfaces whenever a natural disaster occurs. Tragedies in our personal lives can elicit similar responses: serious illness or death of a loved one, loss of job, betrayal, or shattered relationships.

How does one continue to trust when the evidence seems to indicate otherwise?  Read More 

Gazing out the coffee shop window, I look past a flower box full of watermelon-colored petunias to the public library across the street. I spent countless childhood hours there, curled up in a big leather chair reading Mrs. Piggle Wiggle’s Magic, books of science experiments, and biographies, especially about Abraham Lincoln.

I also ventured into gloomy stacks of the adult mystery section, tip-toeing along shelves of volumes that held horrible secrets of untimely death and clever murders. Every week I loaded my grandmother's finished books into the basket of my blue Schwin bicycle and pedaled to the library. After piling them on the “returns” counter, I slipped into the darkness and pulled new titles at random, delivering them to my grandmother who would have already read at least ten. But that left ten more to keep her going until the following week.

Today, the outside of the library looks as it always did; it is the inside that has changed. Formal carpet has replaced worn wooden floors. Computers line up on marble counters where the card catalogue once stood. Instead of a slightly dowdy grandmotherly type looking down at me as I walked around her tall desk, asking if she could help, a man wearing black suspenders, expensive gray slacks, and a starched white shirt with French cuffs held around his wrists with gold and black cufflinks sat at the information center, intent on his computer screen.

Can one be nostalgic for things one wishes had been as well as for what was?

My heart hurts with memories and unrealized expectations because I am in transition, working in a coffee shop instead of my small home office decorated like a porch on a Cape Cod beach house. Recently returned from an academic year as a resident scholar at The Collegeville Institute in Minnesota, I am staying with my elderly father while looking for a job that will allow me to rent a place I can make into home. Relationships have changed. Like the library, I am not quite the same on the inside, and I wonder when I will feel comfortable with my updated self. Read More