My Sister Act

Total transparency - the past few months have been filled with frustration, pain, discouragement, and loss. The last several weeks have been particularly hard, and as I prepare for a brand new week, I had to share some reflections. I'm going to skip over the hurricane of my Monday-Friday drama, and focus solely on how the Lord came through in a big way, in a completely unexpected way, in a God-sized, magical kind-of-way.

I decided to visit a monastery. I was facing an inevitable emotional breakdown about four weeks ago, and I knew it would take something a little crazy to overcome the overwhelming hurdles I was facing. So, in classic Steph style, I chose something a little nutty. I decided to visit Mount St. Benedict, a monastery of Benedictine nuns in Harborcreek, PA, about 40 minutes away. The pastor of a church I had been attending mentioned that he had stayed in a guest cabin at the Mount during his sabbatical, and so I sent the Sisters an email and arranged to stay from Saturday morning into Sunday afternoon.

Let me put this in perspective. I had never even set foot in a Catholic church before that weekend. Raised in the Anabaptist tradition, I had always harbored a vague fear and distrust of Catholics, which had something to do with that denomination's ancient history of burning my ancestors at the stake, and also a suspicion that Catholics really just sat around and worshiped statues of Mary. On top of that, pretty much all I knew about nuns I learned from The Sound of Music and Sister Act.

But I believed that I needed silence and solitude, so to the Mount I fled. What I encountered was unlike anything I have experienced before. I found a community of good, godly, genuinely loving women who welcomed me like a friend. The Sisters of St. Benedict are educated, intelligent, hard-working women, who dedicate their lives to living in community and advocating for social justice, peace, and equality. They love God and they love others. It is that simple. I was welcomed, hugged, and invited to participate in the Eucharist. Sisters actively saved seats for me in the sanctuary, and had a praise book laid out with all the pages marked so that I could follow along. I suspect that I found myself nestled in the second to front row with a lot of musical Sisters during my first Evening Praise so that I could comfortably copy their voices and movements, instead of struggling to join in from the back row. I had Sisters to sit and eat with, and Sisters to invite me to their movie night. (Oh by the way, these Sisters do not wear habits, but they do watch tv, espouse feminist ideals, and tell very funny stories and jokes that I could never have anticipated hearing from a nun.) They are self-acknowledging "normal people". Yes, I walked the grounds of the monastery and participated in "spiritual direction". I spent some time in solitude and silence. But unexpectedly, sweetly, the most life-changing moments I experienced during this weekend were spent simply being with the Sisters. These authentic, beautiful, dear Catholic nuns.

But that's the great thing. When I am at Mount St. Benedict, I don't see the "Catholic Church," I see the Church. The living, breathing, loving body of Christ. I see Jesus in motion. I see the miraculous hand of God at work in the simplicity of community life and selfless friendship. I have walked in peace and felt the touch of God's sustaining hand, and I have experienced Emmanuel, "God with us", at the Mount. I carry Emmanuel with me.

I have glossed over the details of what happened during my weekend at the Mount, but I simply put to you that it was one of the most life-changing weekends of my life, even in its uneventful simplicity. In the quiet easiness of community I found healing. I have since attended several workshops with the Sisters, and regularly participate in Sunday Morning Praise and Liturgy at the Mount. I have found a community, and this community has loved me.

Yes, these fabulous ladies tease about recruiting me; one Sister just this morning elbowed me as she walked past my seat and asked when I was moving in. I find these indications of invitation and warmth both heartwarming and intriguing. When my grandfather asked me on the phone if "those nuns have converted you?", I responded quite seriously, quite joyfully, "I would sign up in a second for what these women have". And isn't that the point of our life here on this earth? To be such an authentic reflection of Jesus that others cannot help but be drawn to His very heart.

So, who knows what the future holds? I know that I don't. What I do know is that my desire to actively pursue the heart of God drew me to the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, and I have been forever changed because of their friendship. What happens next, well, in the words of Maria, "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window."