Mary van Balen

Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment. Perhaps he will again relent and leave behind him a blessing...
Joel 2, 12-14a



Ash Wednesday, and I did it all. Fasting. Weeping. Mourning. Rending heart. Well, most of it. The "return to the Lord, your God" is in process.

My day started out at the doctors office. 7:30 am. That alone is mortification. The early appointment was to insure I would not be late for work. I left too sore to go to work. Stopped by my local church hoping for Mass and ashes. Too late. Drove to another church. Just a little late. Stayed through ashes and Eucharist.

I came home, had toast with a smear of low fat cream cheese (ever notice how low fat cheese kind of shines, plastic-like? Not good.) and sat at my computer to work on revising, yet again, my book proposal. Read More 

"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 

Saint Scholastica peers at me from this small bronze plaque as I work on the computer typing out blogs, columns, books, and emails. I found the plaque in gift shop just outside the Great Hall on Saint John's campus in Collegeville. Finding images of Scholastica is difficult, and I was happy with the discovery. Today is her feast in the Roman Catholic Church's calendar.

Not much is known about Scholastica. She is the twin sister of St. Benedict, and like her brother, she founded a monastic community. Her convent was not far from his monastery and once a year they met part way between both to spend a day in conversation about the spiritual life. I can't imagine that other more mundane topics common between brothers and sisters were not discussed.

Whatever filled their hours, the last time they met, Scholastica did not want her brother and his companions to leave. I am reminded of an evening I spent with some Cistercians in the company of John Howard Griffin. It was time to go. The monks had to sleep. They got up at 3am. But Griffin did not want the evening to end, and neither did I. He asked over and over if we wouldn't like to stay.  Read More 

Originally published in the Catholic Times, Feb. 10 issue









Ohio Dominican University celebrated the feast of Saint Thomas Aquinas with their annual Convocation in this year featuring a lecture by theologian Fr. Thomas F. O’Meara, OP titled “Vast Universe: Extraterrestrials and Christian Revelation” (Also the title of his latest book). O’Meara’s presentation treated those attending with the opportunity to stretch their minds and understanding of Christian revelation here on earth by considering the possibility of free, intelligent extraterrestrial life sharing with human beings a capacity for relationship with God, the Creator of all.

He began with a quick review of the growing body of scientific knowledge of the universe gathered in part from increasingly powerful telescopes that probe its vast expanse. Scientists estimate the existence of about 125 billion galaxies each holding billions of stars. The Drake Equation that looks at probabilities of the existence of intelligent life on other planets, suggests that in our galaxy alone, the possibility lies anywhere from one thousand to one million intelligent civilizations.

In his lecture, O’Meara moved into considering how this speculation impacts Christian understanding of Jesus of Nazareth as the revelation of God.

No problem, I thought as I scribbled notes in my journal, having long entertained the probability of intelligent creatures existing somewhere in the universe. How could they not? Two favorite authors came to mind: Madeleine L’Engle, in the book “A Wrinkle in Time,” shows her young protagonists meeting Centaur-like creatures on planet Uriel, their first stop along a cosmic journey battling evil. These creatures exist in what we might call a “Garden of Eden” state, always filled with light and love. At a later point in the story, gentle sightless creatures who live on planet Ixchel healed the space travelers from an encounter with evil.  Read More 

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you."
Jer 5, 17

"At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am known.
1 Paul, 13, 13

"Indeed, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was closed for three and a half years and a severe famine spread over the entire land. It was to none of those that Elijah was sent, but only to a widow in Zarephath in the land of Sidon."
Lk 4,



Saturday Mass at the small parish church was rocking. Despite the sparse number of cars in the parking lot, the congregation and choir sang their hearts out. The pianist played with power and flourish. I softly tried out some harmonies, tapping my fingers on the pew in front of me and tapping my toes inside my snow boots. The choice of hymns and inclusion of guitars spoke to my 60's heart and I decided I would email an old friend and thank him for the decades of guitar and song he has given to churches around town.

Those gathered on the snowy evening moved through song into repentance, giving glory, and then sat to listen to ancient words proclaimed by their friends. Something happens when God speaks to you with the voice of the woman down the street who tells you that God knew you from before you were born or that everything passes away, prophecies, speech, knowledge. Everything but love. She is different when she reads those words. And we are different hearing them.

Then the priest reads the gospel where Jesus tells us that God didn't sent prophets to the good widows of Israel or to its suffering lepers, but to a widow in a city of dubious repute and to a Syrian leper. The people listening to Jesus were ticked. They were the chosen after all. What was he trying to say? That God loved someone else more? Impossible. Read More 

"...Soul, self, come, poor Jackself, I do advise/
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile/
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size/
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile/
's not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather - as skies/
Betweenpie mountains - lights a lovely mile."
from Gerard Manley Hopkins - poem 46


This morning a line from Psalm 3 found a place in me. A simple line, "I lie down, I sleep and I wake, for the Lord upholds me."

Surely nothing special. In the midst of danger and trial, the psalmist goes on, knowing the Holy One sustains him. The ordinariness of the line is what stayed with me. Not only through achievement or great effort, but also through the quotidian routines of life, God is Emanuel: With Us. And not begrudgingly, but offering Grace.

A friend mentioned Hopkins' poem 46 to me the other day, and I came home, took out my "Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poems and Prose" Seleted and edited by W.H. Gardner," and read it a few times, letting the words linger. Hopkins' brilliant juxtaposition of words and created words delight and reach deep.

In my January 13 column, The World Is Great With God, I mention the human tendency to be hardest on ourselves, missing the Divine Presence in and around us, focusing instead on self and shortcomings. Hopkins poem was written at a dark time in his life and reflects his recognition of the need for self compassion.

Poem 46 begins, "My own heart let me more have pity of; let/ Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,/Charitable; not live this tormented mind/With this tormented mind tormenting yet..."

Letting our thoughts go elsewhere refreshes and enspirits. A daughter working on her PhD dissertation takes time out to spend an evening with a friend going to exercise classes and eat tacos at their favorite local Mexican restaurant. This morning, before tackling other chores and attempting a nap before two overnight shifts at the department store taking inventory, I allowed myself time to play with poetry and paint. Read More 

“THE WORLD IS GREAT WITH GOD” …Bl. Angela of Foligno




(Originally appeared in The Catholic Times, January 13, 2013 issue. © 2013 Mary van Balen)


When my column deadline approaches, I usually look to a number of places for inspiration. I check the Universalis site, one of my favorites, for an overview of the liturgical feasts that come immediately before and after the date of publication. I read morning and evening prayers of those days as well as the daily Mass readings. Sometimes, Mass readings for the Sunday following the column provide a topic. Current news also feeds the muse.

This column falls between two great feasts, Epiphany and Baptism of the Lord. Checking Universalis, I found today’s date surrounded by blanks on the liturgical calendar. No big saints around which to fashion a column. I plunged deeper, using another favorite prayer guide, “Give Us This Day,” published by Liturgical Press.

I found the introductory quote in the “Blessed Among Us” feature, written by Robert Ellsberg, author of “All Saints.” I knew nothing of Angela, a thirteenth century wife, mother, and mystic. A third order Franciscan, she gave herself to charitable works. Her phrase “The world is great with God,” spoke poignantly to me after having celebrated Christmas, when a teenaged woman, great with child, delivered her son.

I continued reading and praying through the week’s readings. Gospel after gospel told stories of Jesus caring for those around him, curing the sick and speaking to those who followed him hoping for words that would help them make sense of life and the world they in which they lived. He fed thousands from their own meager resources, love making them more than enough. Interrupting times of prayer to respond to people’s needs was his way, even walking across stormy seas to calm his disciples as well as the waves. And, when he arrived in his home territory, he went to the synagogue and read from Isaiah: He was here to proclaim liberty to the captives, to give sight to the blind, to grant freedom to the oppressed.

Clearly, Jesus saw the world “great with God” and embraced it. Read More 

In his book, "Dictionary of Biblical Theology," Xavier Leon-Dufour points out that in the OT, the Israelite understanding of divine kingship differed from that of other ancient Eastern kingdoms in an essential way: Yahweh has a covenant with his people. He desires his reign to be recognized by obedience to the Law. His reign is of the heart, a moral code, not a political one. (p 292)

In today's gospel, after his baptism, Jesus has moved to Capernaum, on the Sea of Galliee and beings his public ministry by declaring the "Kingdom of heaven is at hand." Then he began teaching in the synagogues, proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom, and curing people. A sign, it seems, that the kingdom had indeed come in the person of Jesus. It has broken into history, into time and space.

People came from all over to see and hear Jesus. They brought the sick, the mentally ill, the suffering, and he cured them. They may have been simply curious. They may have been desperate, unable to find relief from suffering and giving this guy a chance. I doubt many believed he was the Christ at that moment. Maybe after a cure. Maybe not. Maybe they thought he was a wonderworker or magician. Read More 

"A word found me," a friend told me after Mass yesterday. "Reveal."

She had been looking for her word for the year, prompted by a spiritual mentor, and it shimmered before her right out of the Scripture reading on New Year's Eve.

"You might want to try it," she suggested. I might. I would. It sounds so...well...contemplative. I thought I would go home and be still and receive a word.

I did return home, but ran a couple of errands on the way. And then I straightened up the house and prepared some food for dinner (my sister and brother-in-law were coming). I sat quiet for a few moments, and then decided to finish the, I am embarrassed to say, Christmas cards I had been working on little at a time for a couple of weeks.

"It's a good thing there are 12 days of Christmas," I wrote on each one, " That gives me time to send out the cards!"

True. Christmas season isn't over yet, and I did enjoy taking time with each card, writing personal notes and slipping a copy of my December column into the envelopes before sealing them.

Dinner was wonderful. Michael and I savored pork and sauerkraut. Elizabeth enjoyed the black bean lasagna she brought along. The best part of the evening was the long rambling conversations that included children, grandchildren, my book in process, homographs and triple homonyms, and how to earn badges on "Drawsomething."

A good beginning to 2013, but no word appeared, shimmering before me.

This morning, the Psalms, reflections, and Mass readings in the January issue of "Give Us This Day" spoke to me, not with a single word, but with an image: Resting in God. Living There.

The January issue began with a reflection by Ronald Rolheiser, OMI about "Blessed Consciousness." He shared a story of a Buddha sitting under a tree, called a "pig" by a passing soldier. Read More 

His betrothed was pregnant. Not his child. Still, he loved her and wanted to spare her the shame and consequences of her condition. What to do? How to love her in such impossible circumstances. And his life? What next for him if what he had most desired and planned was no longer possible?

With so much weighing on his mind and tearing at his heart, how did Joseph sleep deeply enough to have the dream? He did, though, and remembered it on awakening. Mary hadn't been unfaithful. Really she had been radically faithful to the One they both worshipped.

In the midst of his turmoil, what word had he received? Get up. Take Mary home. Love her. Love her child. Make a home.

Extraordinarily common instructions from Adonai Yir'eh, the God Who Sees.

Difficult for Joseph, no doubt, this faith, this call to live as if nothing unusual had happened.

Today, in the midst of personal and national grieving for the victims of Sandy Hook Elementary, in the face of a "fiscal cliff" and global economic crisis, in a world filled with poverty and violence, in a world where children are not safe, where the vulnerable are not protected. In such a world, what is Adonai's word for us?  Read More