IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Something in us is dissatisfied with the ordinary. There’s something in the ordinary that can have us think that predictable routines, domestic rhythms and commitment to duty can weigh us down, swallow us up and anchor us outside the more rewarding waters of passion, romance, creativity, dance and celebration.

We often vilify the ordinary. I remember a young woman, a student of mine, who shared in class that her greatest fear in life was to succumb to the ordinary, “to end up content, a little housewife and mother, happily doing laundry commercials!”

If you’re an artist or have an artistic temperament, you’re prone to this kind of feeling. That’s one of the propensities of an artist. Doris Lessing, for example, once made the comment that George Eliot could have been a better writer “if she hadn’t been so moral.” What Lessing is suggesting is that Eliot kept herself too anchored in the ordinary, too safe, too secure, too far from the edges.

Kathleen Norris, in her biographical work “The Virgin of Bennington,” shares how as a young writer she fell victim to this kind of ideology: “Artists, I believed were much too serious to live sane and normal lives. Driven by inexorable forces in an uncaring world, they were destined for an inevitable, sometimes deadly, but always ennobling wrestle with gloom and doom.”

An ennobling wrestle with gloom and doom! That does have a seductive sound to it, particularly for those of us who fancy ourselves as artistic, intellectual or spiritual. That’s why on a given day any of us can feel a certain condescending pity for those who achieve simple happiness. Easy for them, we think, but they’re selling themselves short! That’s the artist inside of us speaking. You’ve never seen an artist doing a laundry commercial!

Don’t get me wrong. Not all of this is bad. Jesus, himself, said that we do not live by bread alone. No artist needs that explained. He or she knows that safe routine, dram duty, and a mortgage that’s been paid, alone do not necessarily make for heaven. We need bread, but we also need beauty, color and celebration.

Doris Lessing, who was a great artist, joined the communist party as a young woman but later left it after she’d matured. Why did she leave? One phrase says it all. She left the communist party, she says, “because they didn’t believe in color!”

Life, Jesus assures us, is not meant to be lived in black and white, that is, as simply an endless cycle of rising, showering, going off to work, responsibly doing a job, coming home, having supper, getting things set for the next day and then going back to bed.

And yet, there is much to be said for that seemingly dram routine. The rhythm of the ordinary is, in the end, the deepest wellspring from which to draw joy and meaning. Kathleen Norris, after telling us about her youthful temptation to side-step the ordinary to engage in the more ennobling battle with gloom and doom, shares how a wonderful mentor, Betty Kray, helped steer her clear of that pitfall. Kray encouraged her to write out of her joy as well as her gloom and to “dismiss the romance of insanity as a sham.” As Norris puts it: “She tried hard to convince me of what her friends who had been institutionalized for madness knew all too well: that the clean simple appreciation of ordinary, daily things is a treasure like none on earth.”

Sometimes a different mentor teaches us this. When we regain our health and energy after having been ill, off work, and out of our normal routines and rhythms, nothing is as sweet as returning to the ordinary – our work, our routine, the normal stuff of everyday life. Only after it has been taken away and then given back, do we realize that the clean, simple appreciation of daily things is the ultimate treasure.

Artists, though, are still partially right. The ordinary can weigh us down, and keep us outside the deeper waters of creativity, of romance, of color, and of the wildness that lets us dance. But, that being admitted, anchors and weight also have a positive function. They keep us from being swept away. They anchor our sanity. They keep us steady. The rhythm of the ordinary is perhaps the most powerful anchor of all to hold us in sanity.

Paul Simon, in a 1970s song entitled, “An American Tune,” sings about coping with confusion, mistakes, betrayal, and other events that shatter our innocence. And he ends that rather sad ballad quite peacefully with the words: “Still tomorrow’s gonna be another working day, and I’m trying to get some rest. That’s all I’m trying, is to get some rest.”

Obedience to that imperative helps anchor our sanity. There’s much to be said about being a contented, ordinary person, anchored in the rhythms of the ordinary, trying at the end of the workday to get some rest.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a professor of spirituality at Oblate School of Theology and award-winning author.)

KNEADING FAITH
By Dr. Fran Lavelle, D. Min.
Simply put, change is inevitable. Whether we like it or not the Church is a microcosm of society, not the other way around. Tension comes when we are too focused on the past and unwilling to face the unknown future. There is a growing movement within the Church to return to the past. It is natural to long for the past, especially when it comes to things we find comfort in.

However, I am reminded of a good friend of mine from Starkville who would often say that the work of the Holy Spirit is constantly moving forward. When we long for the past by remembering simpler time, we must ask ourselves, “simpler for whom?”

Stepping into a new way of doing things always brings some cause for pause – or at least it should. Over the course of the past several years we have been re-evaluating how the offices of the Department of Faith Formation serve the people of God in the Diocese of Jackson.

If we are to be aware of the needs of God’s holy people, we need to listen first. Three synodal experiences in the last decade played a huge role in preparing for synodality and reimagining. They are – Christus Vivit (Francis, Pope, 2019), Fratelli Tutti (Francis, Pope, 2020), and Let Us Dream (Francis, Pope, 2022).
In October 2016 Pope Francis announced the Synod on Young People, Faith, and Vocational Discernment. The process culminated with writing an apostolic exhortation, Christus Vivit, (Christ Lives) to young people and all people of God. Christus Vivit was published in 2019.

I asked several of my co-workers in the chancery if they would be interested in reading the document together and meeting for coffee. I invited Bishop Kopacz to join us. Catholic schools, youth ministry, faith formation, and the bishop’s office were on board. The Literati was formed. Processing the outcomes but also the structure of Christus Vivit was my first encounter with an intentional synodal process. As it turned out it was not my last.

From our gatherings we decided to focus on the outcomes of Christus Vivit for our diocesan Fall Faith Formation Day in August that year. Sharing the document and the spirit of that synod was another foreshadowing of the work I would undertake in the Synod on Synodality a few years later.

The second experience with Pope Francis’ synodal way came with the publication of the encyclical letter, Fratelli Tutti on Fraternity and Social Friendship in October 2020. We gathered the Literati again and embarked on yet another journey into the heart and mind of Pope Francis. The timing of this encyclical given the backdrop of COVID-19 and the unimaginable social unrest was intended to call humanity to unity. The impact of the letter was short lived, but it was foundational in developing my understanding of Pope Francis’ pontificate and his vision for the Church.

“You become a person only when you are capable of standing open to all the gifts which are prepared for you.” – Henri Nouwen
The third gathering of the Literati was in February 2021 for the book, Let Us Dream: The Path to a Better Future, published in December 2020. By far the most difficult of the three documents we had read together, Let Us Dream focused on the reality of our brokenness.

Pope Francis, as was his style, did not shy away from difficult issues like the divisiveness of our politics, the disparities in healthcare seen around the globe with the raging pandemic, and the grip that the sin of racism still has on so many in the Church. While Pope Francis exposed our disturbing reality, he also offered hope. In Let Us Dream, he refers to the events that occur “at the crossroads of life, at moments of openness, fragility, and humility, when the ocean of [God’s] love bursts the dams of our self-sufficiency, and so allows for a new imagination of the possible.” It was that hope that fueled the processes the diocese has undertaken since the Synod on Synodality.

Because we have witnessed and embraced the crossroads of life, reimagining has been made possible. The Bishop William R. Houck Center for Lay Formation is one example of synodal listening and embracing a new direction. So too the reimagined Pastoral Ministries Workshop has taken us from a way of being that served the Church for over twenty years to a new format that is designed to address the current reality of parish formation leaders.

Pope Leo said it best, “For where there is the Spirit, there is movement, a journey to be made. We are a people on the move” Vatican, Homily of the Holy Father Leo XIV, Vigil of Pentecost, 7 June 2025. Let’s continue to move forward – together.

(Dr. Fran Lavelle is the director of faith formation for the Diocese of Jackson.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese
There is a certain passion that comes when we express ourselves; our body language completes the story. ‘Bless your heart’ – a known southern expression – means several different things depending upon inflection and the glint in the eye.

Abigail Adams, wife of our second president, in a 1774 letter to her husband remarked: “We have too many high-sounding words, and too few actions that correspond to them.” In 1776 she wrote in another letter: “In the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than you ancestors.” A wise and educated woman such as herself was quite clear that action on the part of the founders required them to widen their scope and put into play the doing of the words they would write.

Author, Louisa May Alcott, wrote in Little Women: “I like good strong words that mean something.”
And this is the point: actions speak louder than words. Our world is full of words at the moment – words that spew hate and disagreement, which create unrest and confusion, which bring us to weep as they chill us to the bone. No matter what the channel or screen, news in some fashion causes us to need stomach medicine! The actions (or lack of) stare us in the face. What shall I do?

Words, on the other hand, also provide us with opportunities to encourage and communicate hope. They offer us an outlet for our deepest feelings of love and wonder. We see this in the Scriptures, and we learn to act as God acts.

God, it seems to me, is particularly fond of verbs. God loves words that invite and compel us to be about something, something that is good.

Take a quick look at the letter of St. James: “God wills to bring us to birth with a word spoken in truth…” (1:18); “Humbly welcome the word that has taken root in you with its power to save. Act on this word…” (1:22ff). And there is more. James is quite clear about the power of the tongue and the word and the actions that might flow from them.

I was amazed at how many kinds of verbs there are. You will remember from grammar studies I’m sure, but here is a tiny review from Merriam-Webster – verbs show actions (to sing), occurrences (to develop) and the state of being (to exist). Those are the basics but look here: there are action verbs, helping verbs, modal auxiliaries, linking verbs, phrasal, verb sap, and pro-verbs! No wonder English proves difficult for so many.

God works in verbs and if you take a look at Isaiah, you will find the following: “I have formed you, blotted out, redeemed; I am the Lord who stretches, spreads, frustrates, drives, turns, makes, confirms, performs, says, raises you, dries you, and builds you.” (44:24ff) That’s a lotta verbs. In fact, we are told in St. John: “in the beginning was the Word … the Word became flesh.” (Jn1:1ff) That is serious action!

All throughout the scriptures, God and the people converse. Words are used to form bonds and covenants. Equally and sadly, the people become used to lying and creating distrust. Over and over God invites the people … over and over they say they will do right – and they don’t.

Consider this in 2 Kings 22:3ff: “when the King heard the words of the Book of the Law he tore his clothes; our fathers have not obeyed the words of the Book; concerning the words you have heard. … I will gather you … they brought the word back to the king.” The Covenant was restored by the word.

Paula Fox in Western Wind, wrote the following, “You can’t take words back … they sit there like big damp frogs.” Alas, many times have I hoped I could take back something I said, willingly or unwillingly. But no, those words got stuck and did not move. Often it meant being misunderstood, other times the words were harsh and hurt. Even if apologies are accepted, sometimes the words are not forgotten.

God invites us into an ongoing conversation leading to actions that build up the common good, indeed the “Kin-dom.” When we speak, sing or write; words express our hopes and fears. Perhaps that is why God chose a whole library (the Bible) full of words as the way to send us love letters … to instruct in God’s ways, to introduce us to Jesus?

Further in Isaiah (51:1ff) we hear: “Listen to Me, look to the Rock; Listen to Me, give ear; Listen to Me, do not fear; You are My people.” We hear the Word of God to be challenged, lifted up – loved.

So, take almost any part of Scripture and read the verbs – see what God is asking, teaching, promising. Be alert to the words that catch your heart and see how they invite you to a deeper relationship with God.

“My child, keep my words. And treasure My commands and live … O children, listen to Me, be attentive to My words … let not your heart turn … do not go astray.” (Prv 7:1-2; 24)

Our God is a doing God – who calls us with words of wisdom, power and truth and acts on them. Let us receive these living words and put them into action by turning them into fire for the good of the Kin-dom.

“That night Bobby and Jamie had flung words into the darkness, and, like fireworks, the words had burst and showered their future with light.” (Jerry Spinelli, The Library Card)

Blessings.

(sister alies therese is a canonical hermit who prays and writes.)