Mary van Balen

"A Morte da floresta é o fim da nossa vida" which is Portuguese for "The death of the forest is the end of our life."
(The quote printed on the white t-shirt often worn by Dorothy Stang.)




In "Give Us This Day," a reflection on the life and mission of Sr. Dorothy Stang, murdered advocate for poor farmers in the Brazilian Amazon and the rainforest that is their home, was places on the page facing this morning's Mass reading from Genesis 1:20-2,4a. It seems fitting to reflect on the life of the courageous woman from Dayton, Ohio and the words of scripture recounting God's creating the universe and this earth out of primal chaos. "God looked at everything he had made, and he found it very good."

So did Dorothy. She loved the rainforest and the poor people it shelters and helped indigenous people farm small plots enabling them to make a living without decimating the forest. She gave her life protecting them and their home from greedy land owners and loggers who exploited both for personal gain. Dorothy was murdered walking on her way to a meeting with local farmers, the Bible her only "weapon."  Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Over the past fifty years I have entrusted my heart, soul, and mind to entries in journal pages written in eclectic styles that include reflection, documentation, study, rant, questions, lists, drawings, and pasted bits of print, but whatever the form, the writing always ends up as prayer. At least my definition of prayer, which is presenting oneself to God in the very moment, aware, if only briefly, of resting in Divinity’s infinite self, breathing the Holy One's breath as my own.

In dusty boxes, my life’s journey is recorded between covers of various sizes and colors on unlined pages that allow my pen and mind free range. My fifth grade handwriting teacher would be appalled by the seeming chaos, with words scrawled right to left, up and down along margins, squeezed between drawings, photographs, and program notes. But as the Spirit hovered over the swirling masses of creation, she sometimes shows up and helps me make sense of life that has spilled onto the pages. Read More 

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN


Rely on the mighty Lord;
constantly seek his face.
Recall the wondrous deeds he has done…
Ps 105, 4-5a


My spiritual director has to remind me from time to time to reflect on the history of God’s Presence in my past. This usually is necessary when I am struggling with my present. The Holy Mystery remains so mysterious that I cannot catch even a glimpse. My life, while interesting, is in chaos and I cannot discern a path. I am stuck in the midst of a plethora of possibilities or languishing for lack of any.

During these times I don’t feel much like rejoicing or proclaiming God’s wondrous deeds as the Psalmist suggests a few verses before these. The rest of the Psalm recounts God’s providential care of Israel until, in the end; God’s people had possession of the land and its wealth and could shout “Hallelujah!”

As I read and reread this Psalm, the plight of Joseph resonated with me. Not his final triumph, becoming the king’s right hand man, but the time of betrayal and imprisonment that preceded it.  Read More