This op-ed piece was published in several local papers.
Over the last three years, congregations of women religious in our geographic area have been gathering. The simple meetings have evolved into a stronger relationships and collaboration. The initial conversations were informative as we told the stories of how our congregations were started, what our formation was like and what we hold now as congregational leaders. It is no secret that the religious life that we know and love deeply is changing. We are being called to consider the darkness of this time and to ask ourselves as Valerie Kaur did in her book, See No Stranger, “Is this time the darkness of the tomb, or the darkness of the womb?”
(We were initially eight different congregations. Over time the needs and directions of the various groups changed and we bless each other on the journey.) Mindful that we are now four different congregations, with different origins, different cultures, different philosophies of daily living and different locations, our conversations have deepened to who we are as women religious, what we believe and what we value. Our belief stems out of the Paschal Mystery; we are living this present moment for whoever we are asked to be in the future. What we value at this time in religious life is what unites us. We are united in our commitment as vowed women religious, we are united in the gospel values of justice, peace, freedom, human dignity, hope and care of creation. We are united in our lived realities of this time; our numbers are decreasing, ages are increasing and the health care needs of our sisters is our primary concern as we actively seek to live our mission. What we believe, born out of the Gospel and our values is that we were created for this time! Our world needs us now.
I could go on further to say how what we value and believe are lived out but that would detract from the very fact that in our honesty, humility and vulnerability we have found a place of union in our differences. Realizing that the only way to live faithfully in this time is together. This has called for questioning, hard conversations in the midst of deep prayer that continue to bring us back to the same place, there is unity in our diversity.
I have personally struggled, like many over these past years, to create spaces where it is acceptable to be different and be a part of. All too often, my experience and the experiences, especially of younger generations is that if you don’t agree with me, I can’t talk to you. Often a simple conversation of voicing a concern devolves into a place of polarization as sides are taken and facts are spewed. And just what are the facts? The reality is, we can both watch video footage (and God willing, it is not altered) and see two different things. We can look at current issues of immigration, food insecurity and care of neighbor and have severely different views. And sadly, because we have different views, we cannot talk about it. That results in superficial, unreal conversations that never share the depth of who we are.
This was real for me in 2020, during COVID. How could people not believe COVID-19 was real when I witnessed an inordinate amount of people dying each day? How could they not believe COVID-19 was real when I risked my life for months going to work without the protection of PPE or a vaccine? And how could a vaccine be controversial? At ground zero, I could not understand. I still have reactions when people talk about how uncomfortable masks are. I would have given my right arm for a mask in March of 2020 so I could assure the people I lived with and my family that I would be okay. It was during this time and this experience that my prayer asked me to look for what was common. The majority of responses in COVID came from immense fear. Fear of the unknown. We are living that unknown on so many levels and in so many places.
Yesterday, a member of our staff came into my office. Somehow in the conversation I said, “I am so concerned about what is happening in our country right now. I worry about a lot of things, mostly about our children.” She has a completely different political view than I do. She said, “Sister, I worry about our country too. I worry about the children.” There it was! Our unity – we are worried about our country, we care about our children.
Over the past years I have tried, and not always successfully, to look for what unites. As I sit in political conversations I frequently say, “we both desire the same thing, but see it from different perspectives.”
We are at a critical point in our church, our country and our world. When can we be vulnerable enough to ask ourselves the deeper question, “What is it we both want here?” and be willing to be open, honest, and defenseless with another? I think that begs a deeper question of what makes a community. What makes me neighbor to the people who live in my neighborhood? What is it we all desire? A nice, well-kept area where people are respected? Safety for each person? What unites us?
The critical invitation of this time, if we are to survive, is to be honest, open and willing to risk the hard conversations; even to the point that my views might be changed by what is shared by the “other”. It is imperative that for every difference we have, we look at what we hold in common. We need each other. We need the differences to continue to nurture the diversity that has given us life as church, a country and in our world. Can we back up, take a breath, share our concerns and listen to the concerns of another with a commitment to further reflect on what has been said. Can we each ignite the light we have within us, whether dim or bright, and bring it to this time for the common good? That has been the gift of our religious collaborative – different but united in our call as women religious and in what we value and believe.
These are certainly challenging times. The gift women religious bring to this moment is the gift of proclaiming the Gospel values of hope, human dignity, freedom and care of creation. We are working tirelessly to explore collaborative movements, creating spaces that allow conversation, that allow us to focus on the values and behaviors that unite us with our sisters and brothers. This opens avenues for conversation about what could divide us. That is the gift of synodality – the gift of holding conversations of our unity in diversity. Our lives depend on it. The life of our young adults and children depend on it. We must be models of unity in diversity for the future of all of God’s creation.