Mary van Balen

Originally published in the Catholic Times

Sunday’s readings from Deuteronomy and from Luke emphasize two things: God’s law is the law of love, and it resides deep within each of us, as close as our mouths and our hearts. The Old Testament reading is taken from the end of Moses’ speech to the Israelites who had completed the long wanderings in the desert and were on the brink of entering the Promised Land.

Moses had recapped the struggles of their journey, told them blessings come from their curse, and that God would gather them back from the nations where they were scattered. The command Moses gave to the people, to turn back to God with their entire being, was attainable. Unlike Gilgamesh, the hero of the ancient Mesopotamian epic, who traveled to the ends of the earth, to the depths of the sea, and to the heavens, in search of the secrets of the gods, the Israelites had God’s word on their lips and in their hearts. They had only to obey it.

In the gospel reading from Luke, when a scholar asks Jesus what he must do to attain eternal life, Jesus answers with a question: “What is written in the law?” The scholar replies that the law is to Love God with one’s whole being and to love one’s neighbor as one’s self. Jesus tells the scholar to go and live out the law.

Why did the scholar persist in questioning Jesus? Read More 

Originally appeared in the Catholic Times, issue: May 12, 2013

When beginning studies for a Masters Degree in theology, I was in the midst of a difficult time in other areas of my life. Perhaps it was Providence that one book assigned for a seminar was Ronald Rolheiser’s The Holy Longing. The instructor required each member of the class to prepare a presentation on a particular chapter. Mine was “The Paschal Mystery.” That was almost eight years ago, and I still find hope and wisdom in Rolheiser’s presentation of that holy mystery.

Rolheiser put a colloquial twist on the Ascension, describing its message this way: “Do not cling to the old, let it ascend and give you its blessing.” A necessary step to Pentecost, where we accept the Spirit for the moment we are living.

I had always thought of the Ascension as an event in Jesus’ life, not in my own. He told his disciples during their last meal before his death that his going away is necessary:”…for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to your; but if I go, I will send him to you.” Death. That was Jesus’ first “going away.”

His followers were devastated. Confused and afraid, they talked, and waited, and worried. I’m sure they prayed, but perhaps it was the same type of prayer we hold in our hearts when life takes turns we do not understand, and we cannot find God anywhere in it.

Then came the resurrection. Jesus was back! He shared food with them, blessed them, and walked with them. When they finally realized who he was, they must have been euphoric. But there was a problem: He wasn’t going to stay. Read More 

Originally published in the Catholic Times March 10 2013 vol. 62:22



The fourth Sunday of Lent already? Impossible. I'm not where I thought I'd be. Spiritually speaking, that is. Each year I think it will different. I'll be more disciplined when it comes to food. Each morning will start quietly with undisturbed time for prayer. I won't succumb to temptations of playing Free Cell or Sudoku on my iPad.

This year I thought I had more attainable goals. In fact, I had but one: give myself "soul time." Time for my spirit to breathe and, as an old African story goes, catch up with my body. This goal seemed reasonably attainable four weeks ago. I have been forced to admit that some behaviors have a stronger hold on me that I thought.

For example, living alone, by nightfall I am often ready for some human "noise" in the house. I turn on the television, tune Netflix to reruns or maybe a less than riveting movie, turn away from the screen and drift to sleep, listening.

A perfect time for " soul room" I told myself on Ash Wednesday. Read More 

Time on the beach is always a grace. This week my daughter and I spent three days there, walking, looking for shells, watching birds, listening to waves crashing and tides going out and coming in. We splashed through cold water and waded in tide pools, remembering ocean vacations with my parents. Mom loved the tide pools and sat in her beach chair right in the middle. She had a good eye for sharks' teeth when walking along the oceans edge. With a sieve, she found some big ones in the tide pools.

Wonderful memories.

 Read More 

Eighteen of us had a wonderful day last Saturday exploring the practice of journaling as a way of prayer. As one participant commented, the "gift of time" is something needed in a lifestyle that has us rushing from place to place without really stopping to notice the people and things that fill our lives. The jeweler's loupes were a hit. Who knew how beautifully structured and detailed a dragonfly's body was? Or the geometric patterns of a hemlock cone?

Being present to the moment is essential in all prayer, and together we enjoyed the opportunity to use journaling as a way to foster that. Laughter, conversation, sharing, good food, and lovely surroundings filled the hours. I hope to share the experience again in the coming year! Read More 

In today's gospel reading, it was the little things the woman noticed when Jesus entered Simon's house: No one brought water to wash Jesus' dusty feet; no one greeted him with a kiss; no one wiped his face and refreshed it with oil. Changed by his words of God's loving forgiveness, she had come to seek him out. Perhaps to give thanks for lifting a burden from her heart and replacing it with hope.

The lack of honor shown to this man moved her to tears, and she washed his feet with them, drying with her hair. She broke her alabaster jar of perfume and anointed his feet, covering them with kisses as she did.

Simon was shocked and offended. Jesus felt the warmth of her love and said so: She had been forgiven much and she loved much. He had no such words for his host, who, if he were open to the moment, was abashed.

A lifetime of paying attention to the "little things" make a saint.  Read More 

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.



from Mary Oliver's poem Sometimes
(Mary Oliver, 1935 - )




"I didn't get your book proposal," my sister messaged and I received on my new iPod Touch.

"Sorry. I pulled up your email address. Just forgot to do anything with it. Where IS my mind?"

Where indeed. This is a "day off" and already I am behind. Sore from a night of trying out a foam mattress at the same sister's house, I have driven my car to the auto shop where repairs were completed after a fender bender, but an oversight on the door lock needs attention. I have visited two grocery stores (feeling a bit like an old lady in a nightgown as I dressed by pulling a knit sleeveless dress over my head, ran a brush through my hair, and slipped on stretched out black flats that slap the floor when I walk) finding all three ingredients for meatball appetizers (read frozen meatballs, grape jelly, and chili sauce) I am crockpotting for a swim party tonight. Did I mention that this is the first day in weeks that we will have rain? Read More 

Despite having to drive across town, I decided to attend St. Thomas the Apostle for Pentecost Sunday. It had been home to me for almost two years while I was living with my father. Over sixty years before, St. Thomas had been my parents' parish. I was baptized there. For the past year I have been going to various churches, trying to attend closer to my little flat. I have found some good places, but today, I wanted to "go home" for the feast.

Like any real "home," the folks there take you in, no matter how long you have been away. One of my favorite ushers hugged me back with a smile when I could not resist giving him a warm greeting despite arriving a bit late. When I walked up the aisle to find a seat, a woman offered me a place in her pew.

"Mary, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, yes. And you are..." I was embarrassed by the lack of recall. She didn't mind. Once I heard her name, I knew it well: her family and my family go way back. I settled in and looked around, happy to see so many familiar faces.

I came hoping for an infusion of spirit. A week ago I confessed to my spiritual director that I was low on energy. I wanted to move ahead, discern direction, etc. etc, but I just didn't have much spiritual oomph. Read More 

This winter has been mild, giving us some almost balmy sunny days. One morning the light coming in my bedroom window was so strong that I grouped plants from around the room onto one dresser so they could benefit from the rays. I sat on my bed and looked at them, enjoying the shine on their leaves and imagining the roots stretching and moving around in the warm soil.

Today I decided to ignore usual "day off chores" and soak up the sun as well. I stepped outside and decided to walk toward the used furniture store that provided my dining room table. I crossed to the sunny side of the street, took a deep breath, and savored the sun's warmth on my face. 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