Our Lady of Combermere

How the Statue and Shrine Came to Combermere

It all began quite naturally and simply. It began in the early days of our foundation of Madonna House, which opened on May 17th, 1947, when we had but five acres. Madonna House stood alone, with no buildings ’round about... not even a woodshed, ice-house or tool shed.

Those were pioneering days and no mistake! Those were the days of frozen woodpiles covered with a couple feet of snow that had to be brushed off and knocked loose before the sticks could be carried into our tiny kitchen.

Those were the days when the paths of snow leading from the front and back doors of Madonna House to the little road that connected us with the rest of the world seemed miles long. There was no fast-rising yeast and bread had to be started the day before. They were days of hard work and many inconveniences, yet glad and joyous days.

What could have been more simple and natural when the pumps would not start, and feet and legs were numb from pushing the gasoline engine pedals, than to call on Our Lady — Mary, the Mother of Jesus — giving her the local musical name of Combermere? “O please, dear Lady of Combermere, help me to start this washing machine... this pump.”

Or again: “Help me to loosen this wood,” or “finish this long path in the snow,” or “please, Lady of Combermere, look after this bread; make it rise.” When the wet wood didn't start burning, as burn we expected it to, an invocation would easily come to one's lips. Such little prayers are so normal that anyone would understand them.

Yes, it was easy to call her affectionately by a familiar, loved name. This is what we did among ourselves, in our apostolic family, thinking nothing of it.

To people interested in Our Lady, titles are like endearing names, expressions of great love. Easily we say: “Our Lady of the Kitchen... Our Lady of the Library... Our Lady of the Gardens.” So it was with us, “Our Lady of Combermere.” We used our little prayers with love and gratitude; and Our Lady helped us in the needs and chores of our daily living.

A priest brought us a poem about Our Lady of Combermere. Then on the occasion of the blessing of our original chapel (December 8, 1953), he brought us a song of Our Lady of Combermere, the music for which had been composed by a priest-friend of his. We adopted that song, made it our hymn and sang it on many occasions. Time passed. One day several priests visited us. We are truly blessed and honoured by the visits of many good and holy priests. They too were curious about our hymn and our prayers. Semi-jokingly they asked if we had ever thought of how Our Lady of Combermere should look.

None of us had thought about that. But as the discussion continued we decided that, if we had to draw a picture of Our Lady of Combermere, we would place her near our lovely blue Madawaska River, which flows very close to Madonna House, her arms open in a gesture of welcome and benediction.

One day a few weeks later the mail brought us a picture of Our Lady, drawn by a nun, a Hungarian refugee. It was a nice picture, but not quite what we had imagined Our Lady of Combermere would look like. However we were glad to have it. We framed the sketch and hung it in a place of honour.

Sometime later a priest gave us a lovely prayer to go with the picture. It was truly a beautiful prayer. We copied it. Well, here we were, in a house called Madonna House, praying to her as Our Lady of Combermere — a title never given her before.

Every year Madonna House runs a Summer School of the Lay Apostolate. To the Summer School of 1956 came a woman who immediately fell in love with Our Lady of Combermere. She took a supply of the pictures and prayers back with her to the United States.

A few months later we received a letter from the woman saying that she had received a great favour after making a novena to Our Lady of Combermere. In gratitude to her she would like to give us a statue — life-sized, preferably in bronze — to be placed outdoors at Madonna House, thus making a shrine to Our Lady of Combermere! She would beg money to get such a statue.

We were quite worried for we knew that one cannot have a public shrine to Our Lady under a title that has not been approved by Rome. So we wrote to our local Bishop, the Most Rev. William J. Smith, Bishop of Pembroke, explaining the situation.

He replied that no new title could be used, or funds collected, until the Sacred Congregation of Rites in Rome had been consulted. He said that he would gladly write to the Sacred Congregation concerning the possible use of this title. He asked us to tell the woman in the U.S.A. not to start collecting money until the answer came from Rome.

We did this, of course, immediately. The lady replied that she would wait; we were not to worry. Our Lady of Combermere, she was sure, would see that we received a favourable answer, and that it would be soon! We smiled upon reading her letter — how wonderful simple faith is! But I must confess, we did not quite share it with her.

Great then was our astonishment and delight when, in less than two months, we received another letter from our bishop informing us that the Sacred Congregation of Rites had left it to his discretion as the Local Bishop to approve of the title and statue of Our Lady. So, Bishop Smith graciously granted us permission to erect a statue of Mary under the title of “Our Lady of Combermere” and to have it blessed.

Our hearts were singing Alleluias, and were truly overflowing with gratitude.

But the question of how Our Lady of Combermere should look remained unanswered. If we were to have a statue, we had to find a sculptor to make it and give him or her an idea of what we wanted. So we prayed. What else could we do? We just didn't know how Our Lady of Combermere looked.

We prayed and thought and discussed the matter. A large donation of Catholic magazines had come to us and one day we decided to look them over. Perhaps we would find in one of them a picture that would strike all of us as the very statue we wanted to represent Our Lady of Combermere.

The very first magazine we opened showed us the one! It was the photograph of a statue showing Our Lady hastening with arms wide open to welcome and embrace someone... against a background very similar to ours. She seemed to fit right in. Everyone at Madonna House decided that this was it!

The picture did not give the name of the sculptor. The caption revealed, however, that the statue was located in Santa Barbara, California, and was called “The Questing Madonna.” Our Lady of Combermere was definitely a questing Madonna in our minds, for she was the patroness of our Apostolate questing and seeking souls for Jesus, her Son.

We wrote to the mayor of Santa Barbara, asking who the sculptor was and received, by return mail, a most gracious answer giving us the details. The sculptor was a woman, a well-known artist, Miss Frances Rich of that city.

We wrote to Miss Rich. We were afraid that such a great artist's fees would be beyond our ability to pay. So we told her very frankly how the whole thing had come about and how we had selected her statue.

To our astonishment and joy Miss Rich graciously waived any fee for herself. She loved the story of Our Lady of Combermere. She felt very happy, she said, to be able to bring her to Combermere. All she asked was the price of the pouring of the bronze statue to be made from her model. This work had to be done in Florence, Italy, where the craftsmanship was perfect. We would also pay the shipping charges.

We agreed at once, although we didn't have the money. We felt sure that if Our Lady of Combermere wanted to come here, she would provide it. We started a burse in her honour, and the money was there when needed.

The statue arrived in Combermere on April 26th, 1960 and was erected, on a base of three thousand pounds of cement, on May 17th, the thirteenth anniversary of the opening of Madonna House. Three weeks later — on June 8th, 1960 — the Bishop of our diocese came to Madonna House and officiallyinstalled and blessed the statue. It was an awesome moment for all of us and for the hundreds of friends, including 22 priests, who came to share it with us.

Feast Days

Yesterday was poustinia day at Madonna House, Robin Hoods Bay -

The Heaviness of Feast Days

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

For some reason, I have been thinking a great deal lately about the sense of disappointment or heaviness that often seems to cloud religious feast days, days that should be full of light and joy. Do you ever feel this?

I think one reason for this is that the power of evil tries to compete with a celebration which centers around the worship of God. Another reason has something to do with what we call “Christ living out his life in us,” and that is basically a good thing, though what we feel is seemingly to the contrary.

Recently it came to me as I prayed and read the Scriptures that our souls bear the imprint of Christ’s life, every experience of his life. This happens at Baptism. He didn’t give us only a part of himself at Baptism; he gave us his entire self, and that includes all the experiences of his life, of his great mind and heart.

I think that as we go on in life the full meaning and reality of our Baptism unfolds. We know something about Christ—not only with our intellects, as we read, study and think about him—but our whole being has been united with his whole being in Baptism, and his being is like a surge of new life running through our very arteries.

Through our Baptism we see the Child whom the Virgin Mother of God has brought forth; we know, by our own intimate relationship, who this Child is. Or, to put it another way: Christ in our souls recognizes himself, and we experience at times the leap for joy that Elizabeth felt in her womb at the moment when Mary’s voice of greeting reached her ears (Luke 1: 30-44).

Or, in a moment of utter stillness, perhaps we become aware of the intense heat of the fire of the love existing between Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and we become so caught up in it that we cry out to God, “Don’t show me any more! It is not for man to know!” We are then like the Apostles on Mount Tabor and we are struck with awe at the brilliance of Christ in his Transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36).

And when we see our brother being crucified in the many ways man crucifies his brothers, isn’t there something excruciatingly painful that takes place in us? Isn’t it Christ suffering in us, being crucified again at the hands of his enemies?

And when, by the grace of God, we are able to forgive right on the spot some wrong that has been done to us, isn’t it Christ himself forgiving, repeating again from his cross, “Father forgive them”?

And the heaviness of feast days? Surely it is the groaning of the Spirit of Jesus in us, the travail in which all of creation is yearning for completion. Perhaps on these days we become acutely aware of being in unfulfilled time, even as we celebrate the fullness of time in Christ. Perhaps this heaviness is a grace also, because we experience the longing of Christ for all of creation to become one in his Father. Yes, I think this is what the heaviness of feast days is all about!

— Adapted from Coming Home

In Heaven Already

To Receive the Eucharist is To Be In Heaven Already

by Catherine Doherty

Do you ever stop to think of the immensity of the gift that God has given to us in the Holy Eucharist? Have you ever stopped to think what it is to be in communion with God—that is, to communicate of the most holy Body and Blood of Christ? This is a communion that is incredible, impossible to understand! That is wrapped up in a mystery beyond all mysteries: that God, the second person of the most holy Trinity, should give himself to us, as bread and wine. Approach it as if you hear the words: “Take off your shoes; the place is holy.”

A Nuptial Event

To me, Communion is a nuptial event. To me, receiving Communion is already being in heaven, because Christ is heaven, and he is in me. Are there any words in this world that could convey what happens when I go and receive a piece of consecrated Bread, with the Wine or without, as the case may be? I don’t think so. It is eternally new; it is eternally incredible; it is a moment when I truly know who I am. I am the beloved of Christ, for he comes to me in person. My faith transcends the apparent bread and wine; my faith receives him, and so it is a nuptial mystery. For all through the Old Testament and all through the New Testament God calls upon the Hebrews, as if he were a bridegroom and they were his bride.

In the sacrament of the Eucharist there is an ecstasy—that’s a powerful word, but it’s a word that we have to get used to; there is an ecstasy in the Communion of the liturgy. When I receive our Lord, I realize also the nuptial mystery: man and God. For God really has come. God, calling Israel, says: ‘Even if you have prostituted yourself under every bush with a stranger, come to me, my beloved, and I shall make you whiter than snow.’ God the Father makes love to Israel, his chosen people. The theme of love goes through all this, and because we’re human and simple and ordinary, God has chosen the image of marriage—for himself and for his Son.

The great miracle at Cana’s wedding feast, the changing of the water into wine, was, of course, the prefiguration of the Eucharist. Each Communion is our wedding feast with Christ and it is also the wedding feast of the whole Church because we are the Church. How joyous can be our daily (or weekly) ‘wedding day’ with God. If only we understood his love and lived by his love, every day for us would be a honeymoon with God!

I have been married twice. I know the ecstasy of union of bodies and minds and souls between a man and woman united in the holy sacrament of Matrimony and in love with one another. But I do not hesitate one second to tell you that this blessed, holy, and wondrous union is but a pale shadow of what happens at Communion when the Lord of Hosts becomes one with my soul and yours, and even one with our bodies for a time. Truly this moment of union of ourselves with God is the most incredible grace, the greatest sign that God can give us of his love and his longing for us and for our love.

My heart stops beating while I really think of what is happening during the holy liturgy. The Eucharist is a reality that you can touch, that you can hold, that you can taste, that you can feel on your palate.

Christ offers himself: sacrament and sacrifice

The mystery of the liturgy is so very simple. Christ offering himself, sacrament and sacrifice, for you and for me. Here he is, hanging on the cross, dying for us all, obedient unto death to his Father’s will. I personally wouldn’t obey anybody if it wasn’t for Christ. He was obedient to his Father’s will to the last ounce.

He died. He lifted up all the sins of the world. Can you imagine that? All the sins of the world, as it were, on his shoulder. He lifted all these, and in our place he died for them, an absolute, totally unselfish, totally loving, totally complete gift of himself to the Father for us. When you attend the most holy liturgy and hear the words, “This is my body; this is my blood,” from that very moment, you know the infinite, incredible love of God for you. He invites us every day to come to the oasis of his heart and be refreshed by the wine of his compassion and love.

You also are the sacrifice!

When you are there, you offer the sacrifice. But you see, there is a deeper mystery. You also are the sacrifice! I barely dare to touch on this. You are aware that a drop of water, or a little bit of water, goes into the chalice with the wine. What is that water? Who is that water? Why does the water go in there? It represents us. So we are in the chalice. If we are the Mystical Body and the Body is offered, then in a mystical way, we are offered. Put yourself on the paten.Give God your day, your whole day—that little time between two Masses.

PASS IT ON #68

The Mercy of Refusals

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

“My desires are many and my cry is pitiful but ever didst Thou save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has wrought into my life through and through. Day by day Thou art making me worthy of the simple great gifts that Thou gavest to me unasked…Day by day Thou art making me worthy of Thy full acceptance by rescuing me ever and anon from the perils of weak, uncertain desire.” -- Gitanjali No. 14, Rabindranath Tagore

How many of us could repeat Tagore’s poem again and again as we see God’s plan unfolding in our lives? Truly each of us could write a personal salvation history in which the Redemption hasn’t taken place “once and for all” but is taking place day by day. Many of us, however, do not begin to notice the mystery that is thus at work in our lives until commitment to a life calling—be it marriage, priesthood, lay apostolate, or religious life—forces us to face ourselves as we never did before.

It is then that we perhaps admit for the first time that we did not merit such a wonderful husband or wife or vocation, that we are not worthy to change the bread and wine into the divine food, that we dare not preach the Gospel of Christ which we so inadequately live.

At this moment of commitment we are finally ready to enter willingly into God’s school, which we have been attending only grudgingly until now. Now we recognize how merciful God was when the person we thought we loved left us, when the plans for the ideal city we wanted to build crumbled into dust. We see how merciful God was when we were lonely at parties, and when our plans to go abroad fell through and we went on a retreat instead!

Each of these “refusals” on God’s part caused pain; they broke open the shell that enclosed our understanding. Thus we were free to seek goodness where before we sought only charm. We were free to look for reality where before we were escaping into dreams. These refusals of mercy freed us to seek truth instead of illusion, to struggle for love instead of popularity. In other words, to turn to God who is goodness, reality, truth and love.

God is infinite. This means that because we are small creatures, we have only begun to accept him, just as the little chipmunk, scurrying along one of the trees on the rim of the Grand Canyon, is only beginning to take in the beauty and splendor of this divine work. And just as the chipmunk is not awed by the beauty and immensity of the place in which he lives, we too are allowed to discover only as much of God as we can take in.

If then we continue to let God direct our course, we too may say with Khalil Gibran, not “God is in my heart” but “I am in the heart of God.” Since we are little, we are often narrow, though the two need not go together! We are tempted again and again to protect our wounds with privacy instead of healing them through openness. We limit ourselves to selected friends instead of expanding our hearts to include the love of all our brothers.

Therefore, instead of saying to God, “Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for Thee to fill with music,” we wail, “My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; when I come to ask for my good I quake in fear lest my prayers be granted” (Gitanjali No. 28, Tagore).

This is our natural reaction, because we are aware that that “training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.” That is why each day we must allow God to redeem us once more through the mercy of his refusals.

— Adapted from Coming Home

(Poustinia 24 hours at madonnahouse, robin hoods bay)

PASS IT ON #65

Rise, Sun of Justice!

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

“O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.” (Liturgy of the Hours, for December 23rd)

The Church’s yearning for the rising Sun, the Son of God, is a theme which speaks eloquently to us who dwell in the Yukon. Here in the northland, the dark of the December solstice is deep indeed,. Night, though not in total command, as in the Arctic region, arrogantly grasps many hours of the day. The light spared is further dimmed by overcast sky, storms of snow, and frigid fog. This twilight grip of night wrings hues from color and ashens life’s vigor. It yields shadowed images and jail-like pallor. The sun seems to dally long in the South, basking in warmer climes, and is hesitant to ascend to his polar throne. Will he ever return?

But twilight does promise dawn; night does herald the day. Here, even the longest night will bear and bring forth the infant day. There comes the gift of cloudless sky. Glimpses of the young sun at play in his southern yard reveal a glory heightened by its brief duration. Then higher are his bright leaps into our gray firmament. What promise there is in the sun’s ascending! Surely night’s dominion does cease.

In this dark season how fitting is the Advent liturgy that yearns for “the radiance of eternal light,” that cries, “Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,” and that names the expected Savior: “Sun of Justice.”

How fitting is the Christmas Mass that proclaims, “Your nativity, O Christ our God, has shed the light of knowledge upon the world.” How timeless and deep is this human longing to which the Church gives voice. How timely is day-seeking for us for whom the glad light is often constrained in the shadows of our souls, or for whom the pallid ashes of the passing year pose the question: Has the Sun of Justice really risen in our heart?

Rise, Sun of Justice, seek out our clouded hearts. Push back the gray of chaos, pierce the grip of night, and enkindle our ashen embers. Rise, O Sun of Justice, rise!

Year round, Jesus answers this plea. He offers himself as daybreak in our hearts, and through us to the world. “I am the light of the world; anyone who follows me will not be walking in the dark; he will have the light of life.” (John 8:12) And he tells us, “You are the light of the world; your light must shine in the sight of men so that seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven.” (Mt 5:14-16) Is it not the light of our good actions that can dawn on men—the light of being compassionate as our heavenly Father is compassionate? Jesus is firm: “Love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return.” (Luke 6:27, 35) The light we measure out is the amount of light we will be given back.

God’s light is our hope and our destiny. We are on a journey from night into God’s light; our faith is assured of this in the daily liturgy:

“Father in heaven, it is right that we should give you thanks and glory. You alone are God, living and true. Through all eternity you live in unapproachable light. Source of life and goodness, you have created all things, to fill your creatures with every blessing and lead all men to the joyful vision of your light.”

— Adapted from Coming Home

Silence Prepares Us

(Today's first reading at mass)

PASS IT ON #64

Silence Prepares Us for the Coming of Christ

by Catherine Doherty

When peaceful silence lay over all,
And night had run the half of her swift course,
Down from the heavens, from the royal throne, leapt your all-powerful Word;
Into the heart of a doomed land.
(Wisdom 18: 14-15)

It is not easy to be silent, but it is necessary if we are to begin our journey inward to meet the God who dwells within us. Jesus Christ said, “My Father and I and the Holy Spirit will come and dwell within you.”

Silence can also become a cradle. Silence is the cradle of the Incarnation of God, for there was a great and awesome silence when God was born.

I make a cradle out of my heart for any one of you to rest in like a child. As Christ said, “Unless you become like little children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” That’s why my favorite prayer is: “Lord, give me the heart of a child and the awesome courage to live it out as an adult.”

Silence is also an inn. There was a Good Samaritan who picked up the man besieged by robbers. Who of us is not besieged by robbers today? Who of us does not need an inn where all is rest and peace and silence? This is what silence does; it becomes the highest communication, the quickest way to peace, the cradle for a child, an inn for the weary and tired.

Silence produces all this if you and I fall in love with God. For it is out of that love, that fantastic union that only God could devise for us, that silence can become all those things.

What does the world need most of all? It needs to touch God. Through silence I realize that I can touch Jesus Christ everywhere. Silence is the key to many secrets of God. Why don’t we ask him to give it to us?

Lovers, married people, close friends—all will say that there are moments in their lives when words fall away as if they were old rags—they’ve become useless. Love cannot deal with them. Love can only deal with silence. It’s a silence pregnant with God, filled with love. Wherever there is loving communicative silence, there is God.

It is God who bids us enter into communication. The Father spoke the Word. The Word became incarnate, became a man, our Lord Jesus Christ, who walked among us. He is present among us now; Christ is in our midst. He is this Word that is really the essence of communication.

We go to Mass and receive Holy Communion—we communicate with God. He enters into us and he becomes part of us. This is done so silently. We receive a piece of bread: God. There is silence between two lovers—God and man. The mystery of God meets the mystery of man. This is where real communication begins, when I am in communion with God, with the Most Holy Trinity.

There is un-peace in our hearts, and in the world. Why is there violence everywhere? Because we are not silent. We have not lifted our hearts to God. We have not communicated with him. We have not taken inner counsel with one another. That is to say, that counsel that comes from the union of love.

How many of us are silent enough to listen to the other? When one is listening and another talking, people begin to understand each other; and then this can be reversed and the one listening can begin to talk. We don’t listen because we have no inner silence of mind or soul.

The Word, Jesus Christ, comes when peaceful silence encompasses everything, when the night is half spent. I may refuse to enter into the night of inner quiet, of non-resistance to the divine. If I do refuse, my life is doomed to remain parched and lifeless.

What is this silence that constantly prepares for the coming of the Lord? Silence can be understood in many ways. Silence can be experienced as the absence of noise. Silence may also mean the absence of words that are needless. The absence of useless talk, the softening of a voice that is shrill and strident. The cultivation of silence belongs to the gentle style of life. A style permeated with what we are and what we do. Love can make us capable of silence.

Today people are hungry for friendship, for understanding, for someone to talk to, someone who really listens. But who of us ordinary mortals can really listen with the ear of the heart wide open, taking in every word that the other says? The weight of listening is heavy. That is why we need to pray for a “spiritual bulldozer” to make straight the ways of the Lord in our hearts, so that he might come unencumbered and do the listening in our hearts. So that he might understand, console, help those who come to us!

He will do it through us if we reduce our interior noise to a gentle silence that listens to him. He will do it if we stop the swirling dust of our mutterings, our non-listening to our brother. He will come especially when we allow this spiritual bulldozer to really make straight the paths of our hearts for him to walk on unencumbered, so that he can listen through us, talk through us, understand through us.

Sometimes we speak anxious and tense words interiorly to ourselves, words that drive us toward moralistic self-perfection. These powerful, unspoken words can be more harmful than spoken ones, for they halt the one Word that wants to fill my life.

To reduce our noise, to become silent, is to enter his silence, and his silence speaks. There is no renowned spiritual master, from the East or the West, who did not praise the silence that leaves room for presence to the Presence: God himself.

— From Molchanie

Molchanie

(Poustinia day at Madonna House)

PASS IT ON #63

Of Speech and Silence

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

Last night a friend was here. We spoke about how much of our speech is to avoid communication rather than to communicate. We chatter away to keep any gap of silence well filled. We’re all guilty of it, for somehow we fear silence. I wonder if we don’t fear silence because we fear to face ourselves! When we are alone we rush to a radio or switch on the TV or call someone on the telephone—anything to avoid the silence. When we are together with people we refuse to let silence fall upon us.

Silence might—it just might—break open our true thoughts. We just might begin to reveal ourselves and share at a deeper level those things we wish to keep well-guarded. We were discussing these things, my friend and I, for we had shared this evening more deeply than we had shared in a long time, and we appreciated it. She said that we were often too reluctant to share for we didn’t really believe the other person wanted to help us bear our burdens—which of course could be true. We don’t want to reach out, we are afraid to reach out for fear we won’t meet love and understanding.

Yet, Christ told us to bear one another’s burdens. If we don’t know what these burdens are, how can we bear them? Much of our chatter then is to cover up a lack of trust in our ability to share. We need to pray that we will all radiate more the compassion of Christ to others; so that we will not feel that we cannot open our hearts to one another. We need to share our burdens with one another, so we must allow for those “inviting silences” in which people can reveal their burdens to us.

On the other hand, some of our deepest sharings do not take place with words. There are so many ways to communicate: warmth, calmness, acceptance. The love of God can be communicated to someone who needs it desperately simply by our loving presence.

There are times in our lives—I think we have all had them—when we hardly have faith enough for ourselves. We find it impossible to believe that God exists, that he loves us and cares for us. It is then that the loving presence of another person can be an intermediary for us of the love of God. Another person’s love can be so beautiful and Christ-like that we are led to reason something like this: “If so-and-so is that loving and cares that much, how much more must God care!”

But when we or someone else is really hurting, often the only way to reach out is in silence, which means that we must be at peace with God so that his own peace can radiate through our silence.

I think it was Thomas Merton who said that in a world so filled with “verbal inflation” we all need silence in order to rediscover the climate of solitude. He said that we all need to be silent and alone “everywhere,” that is, know how to live with a quiet heart. He said that speaking does not necessarily destroy silence. For those of us who cannot go apart to a quiet place, we have to learn to make spaces of silence in our hearts and there meet the God of silence. Our psyches, which have been overexposed to all the verbal inflation, cannot cope any more with the blare of noises that screams at us ever more intensely.

God the Father has only spoken one Word, his Son. Sometimes we make music for the Lord in conversation—for speech is a blessed gift. Sometimes we rest together side by side, in the presence of the Word; a deep sharing can then take place. The divine Word will instruct us. Perhaps what we all need is to listen a little more attentively to the stirring of his Spirit within us, that we may know the time to speak and the time to be silent, so that both speech and silence will be used only for God’s glory.

— Adapted from Coming Home

PASS IT ON #62

The Prodigal Father

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

Father, I have been our prodigal son, for I have taken the riches you have showered on me into a far country and have squandered them in riotous living. I have used your gifts of nature and even of grace in a kingdom apart from yours, using them not under your will and for your purposes but taking them into my own control, for my own purposes, for vanity, for arrogance, for domination, for admiration, for ambition, squandering and dissipating them in disorderly self-centeredness. And when I had wasted them I found my spirit starving; for there was neither nourishment, nor vitality, nor healing for the soul in those tusks for swine. And I came to my senses and turned back to you.

Father, you saw me coming from a long way off, and moved with compassion you came to meet me. You clothed me with the finest robe and made a feast for my return to life. Father, Jesus is my coming to my senses. Jesus is my Way back to your house. Jesus is your Compassion and he is your Coming to meet me while I was still a long way off. He is the Festal Garment you clothe me with, my garment of salvation, my Robe of glory, the Robe of sonship you yourself put on me. Jesus is the Feast you prepare to celebrate my return to life and to you. Let my soul remember that each time I receive his Body, that here is my perpetual way back to you, here is your compassion and coming to meet me, here is the glory of the sons of God which you constantly clothe me with, here is the everlasting feast of your joy at my return to life.

Father, you have admitted me to the mystery of your heart. You have let me see and taste your compassion. Do not let me ever become the elder brother. He served you, but only for his own purposes, for payment. He loved your rewards, but he did not love you. He worked for wages and not for love. He was always a hired man, never a son.

Let me always be your son, my Father. As one who has known mercy, let me always love your mercy, seek your mercy. Let me never want payment for serving you, recognition, affection, admiration, status. Cleanse from my heart the hireling who is discontented and too embarrassed to need mercy, who wants some day to be free of mercy, to be able to receive justice and reward from you. Let me love mercy. Let me rejoice that I will have always and only your mercy, that it is mercy which fills the universe and guides its process, not justice. Let me love and rejoice in mercy wherever it appears: your mercy to my brothers, their mercy to me, my mercy to them.

Let the eyes of my soul be always turned toward you like a son to his father. Let my heart be attuned to your heart. Let my will move with your will. Let me see that when you frustrate my self-will and my self-gratification you are not being harsh and rejecting but merciful, and are freeing me to be merciful. Let me trust without reservation that in emptying me of myself you are filling me with your mercy, yourself. Let my spirit cling firmly to this: that more real than all the pain and suffering, more full of vitality than all the shame and guilt, stronger than all the cruelty, sin and evil, is mercy; and that to all you are always Father.

— Adapted from Coming Home

Pass it on 60

Light of My World

by a Madonna House Staff Worker

“All that came to be had life in him and that life was the light of men, a light that shines in the dark, a light that darkness could not overpower.” (John 1:4-5)

Jesus Christ is the shining bright light of the world. Jesus is the maker of history, the freer of slaves, the healer, the great lover of man. Jesus is as personal as he is cosmic.

These words may mean little or nothing to us unless, like St. Paul, we are assailed by the light of the living, risen Son of God, unless our hearts are stung and burned by the touch of God’s life. There is life which is far more than life. There is joy beyond all imagining. There is, right now, this minute, hope and light and healing for us who are flat on our faces in the muck and mire of our broken humanness.

To all of us who are unhinged in a world which seems utterly dark and without any anchor in reality; to us who are sick, tired, disgusted, assailed by anxiety and fear; to us who long and thirst after goodness and truth; to us on the verge of despair from the emptiness of our search—to us are addressed the living words of Jesus: “Come to me all you who labor and are heavily burdened and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn of me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. Then you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light” (Matthew 11:28-30). “I am the light of the world; anyone who follows me will not be walking in the dark; he will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

Jesus knows how confused, tired, and cynical we are. He says exactly what he means and he does just what he says he will do. God is not glib; he is active. He makes himself absolutely available. He tells us who he is and promises that by knowing him we will know light, truth, freedom and abundant life.

Some of us feel that these are wonderful words—but for others—for holy people. Not for us! Yes, what about us who are afraid of death, afraid of our neighbors, afraid of darkness? What about us who are fat and ugly, ashamed and embarrassed? What about us who are mad and hostile and hateful? What about us who are never sober? What about us who have needle scratches up and down our arms? What about us who have our faces in the gutters and our bodies in pain? Yes, what about us hypocrites and phonies, us liars and thieves, us deceivers? Is there hope for the likes of us? How can anyone so without hope and life think that good things could come to him?

In the eyes and minds and hearts of men it is not possible. But God is God and not man, and his love is poured forth on all men without exception or discrimination. It is precisely to us who think little or nothing of ourselves that he is most especially addressing himself. It is precisely to us who suffer the most hideous, embarrassing, and neurotic maladies that the living Gospel of Jesus is proclaimed. “I have not come to call the just, but sinners.” (Matthew 9:13)

I am one of those sufferers. I am one of those who have come right up against the wall of despair but who, in that position, have come to know the embrace of the resurrected, alive, powerful Jesus Christ. Being so identified with trouble and negative attitudes, I can state with conviction to the point of folly that God comes to the poor, the afflicted, and the lowly, to heal, to re-fashion, and to console. Out of my personal bondage the Lord called me, and slowly, with his words, he cracked open my heart and there came forth his own love. Having known the touch of mercy and the healing God gives, I know to whom he speaks. I can testify that his word is always love, and his promise is always life. My response is to cleave to his word and his promise so tenaciously that my identity is found only in God’s life, in my relationship to him.

When we have known God’s life, we desire, as he desires, to speak about it, to proclaim it, to bear his message of love to the ends of the earth. God has swooped down upon us, the afflicted, the sinners, and the lowly, only to set us back into the world so that we can help set his world on fire with love.

I am thoroughly convinced that the Kingdom of God is being established here and now. The Kingdom of God is the Light of the world shining in and through the hearts of those touched by his love.

Reflections for Today

THIRD WEEK OF LENT  Cyril of Jerusalem, bp, dr  Dt 4:1,5-9 Wed 18

Mt 5:17-19 He who keeps the commandments and teaches them shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Do not imagine that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to complete them. In truth I tell you, till heaven and earth disappear, not one dot, not one little stroke, is to disappear from the Law until all its purpose is achieved. Therefore, anyone who infringes even one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be considered the least in the kingdom of Heaven; but the person who keeps them and teaches them will be considered great in the kingdom of Heaven. Ps 147:12-13,15-16,19-20 O Praise the Lord, Jerusalem. Every action has a thought behind it. Acts that are intentionally done to harm others are termed crimes, while unintentional acts are termed accidents. Any wise person would assess a situation not from the acts but from the intentions, attitudes etc. While human biengs judge by deeds, God judges from the intentions. Rules are important but looking beyond the visible rules, if one can get hold of the spirit embedded into it, then laws gain real meaning. Many stay at the superficial level and do not move beyond the ordinary. The letter of the law is bare minimum but the spirit of the law is deep enough to turn us around and help us get closer to Him. It does take courage to look beyond the window.

A Principled Protest

On Tuesday, July 8, 2008, the Directors General of Madonna House went to Rideau Hall and returned the Order of Canada medal awarded to our foundress, Catherine Doherty. This is in response to the awarding of the same honour to Dr. Henry Morgentaler.
Below, you can read our press release, followed by our letter to the Governor General:----------------------------------------

ORDER OF CANADA TO BE RETURNED PUBLICLY TUESDAY

Peaceful Visit to Rideau Hall For Group Representing Madonna House Founder, Catherine DohertyOTTAWA (July 7, 2008) -- Representatives from Madonna House, a Catholic community based in Combermere, Ontario, will make the journey to Ottawa Tuesday morning to return the Order of Canada medal awarded to founder, Catherine Doherty.The move is in response to the awarding of one of Canada’s highest honours to Dr. Henry Morgentaler, as announced by the Governor General’s Office on July 1, 2008.

Catherine Doherty (August 15, 1896 - December 14, 1985) was a pioneer of social justice and an internationally acclaimed speaker. In addition to founding the community of Madonna House, she was a prolific writer and best-selling author of dozens of books. She was awarded the Order of Canada in 1976 in recognition of "a lifetime of devoted services to the underprivileged of many nationalities, both in Canada and abroad." Her cause for canonization as a saint was opened by Bishop Brendan O’Brien, then bishop of the diocese of Pembroke, Ontario, in 2000.

Fr. David May, one of the three directors of Madonna House, commented on the decision to return the medal to the Governor General:"Catherine Doherty was honoured to receive this award in 1976. She exemplified what the Order of Canada should be about: an individual committed to strengthening the nation by her contribution to the vulnerable and the marginalized. It is only after much prayer and consultation with our community, as well as with heavy hearts, that we are undertaking this action. The Order has been devalued in recent days, and we are confident that Catherine is spiritually present with us, affirming this gesture of love for our country and for the values which alone can sustain it. Without absolute respect for the gift of life, no society can survive."

Members of the Madonna House community will gather at the entrance to Rideau Hall to present in a symbolic gesture a letter to the Governor General, and will return the Order of Canada pin on Tuesday, July 8, 2008, at 11 a.m. Media are invited to attend, and representatives of the community will be available for interviews following the return of the medal.

Madonna House, founded in 1947 by Catherine Doherty and her husband, Eddie, is a community of more than 200 laymen, women, and priests dedicated to loving and serving Christ through promises of poverty, chastity and obedience. Each of the community’s missions has a distinct mandate, from offering soup kitchens to places of retreat. All operate in a spirit of prayer, openness, and fellowship. In addition to the original community in Combermere, Ontario, there are 18 field houses (missions) in seven countries around the world.

Additional resources on the life of Catherine Doherty and the Madonna House Apostolate can be found by visiting: www.madonnahouse.org or http://www.catherinedoherty/.

July 8, 2008
Her Excellency the Governor General
The Rt. Honourable Michaelle JeanGovernment House, Ottawa

Your Excellency,

Before all else we want to thank you for the work you do for us as Head of State of this country.

Today we address you also as Chancellor and Principal Companion of the Order of Canada. The argument we present is primarily with those who advised you to award the Order of Canada to Dr. Henry Morgentaler.

A word of explanation is due. "We" are the Madonna House Apostolate. We are an ecclesial community, within the Catholic Church, headquartered in Combermere, Ontario. There are 220 members of the community. We want to return the Order of Canada medal awarded to the community’s founder, Catherine de Hueck Doherty. The return is to protest the very recent award of the same honour to Dr. Henry Morgentaler, a militant abortionist cited for his upstanding contribution to the life of the nation. This is insupportable in our view. The circumstances prompt the unusual act of returning the award of a person no longer living. Catherine died in 1985.

Catherine de Hueck Doherty, was a Russian refugee of the October Revolution. Her life in Canada became a call to a gospel life in Christ lived in the world as a lay person. This call was expressed in social and spiritual works which sought to guard the dignity of the human person and to find justice for the most vulnerable. Her unique vision, affirmed by the Church, of a community -- a spiritual family -- of celibate laymen, lay women and priests, began in Toronto in 1930 with the work of serving the poor. It took her to New York and the struggle for racial justice, then to rural Ontario and neighbourly service. The vision of the Apostolate grew. Men, women and priests joined. Social service and prayer houses were opened around the world. In 1976 Catherine received the Order of Canada for, "a lifetime of devoted services to the underprivileged of many nationalities, both in Canada and abroad."

For her it was her greatest decoration, surpassing the Medal of St. George she once received from the Czar. The Order of Canada was an immeasurable gift to her. It meant: "Canada acceptedme."

How can we be so presumptuous as to ask the Governor General to take back this medal which meant so much to Catherine? This deserves an explanation. I quote Catherine, writing to the staff of Madonna House April 12, 1976, five days after receiving the Order of Canada from Governor General Jules Leger; "they read out what I had done before I approached the Governor General and received the medal. But as I said, beloved family, I haven’t received a medal. As far as the medal is concerned you are all in it, for there would be no Madonna House without you and perhaps none without me, but it is a joint venture as far as I am concerned."

Catherine Doherty’s treasure is a community treasure, something we were proud of.Madonna House Apostolate is today a small community, of no great account, wealthy only in the abundance of nature which surrounds our main house in Combermere, Ontario. We live by begging and the work of our hands. Yet now, the awarding of the Order of Canada to Dr. Morgentaler compels us to protest in the most forceful, peaceful way available to us. Not only do we find his medical practice the dark side of the medical profession but his inclusion in the awards diminishes them. And an award that was meant to be a sign of unity is bringing division. Something is not right. That is the start of why we are returning the medal. "We" means the whole community. We are of one mind in this.Dr. Morgentaler’s work, so enthusiastically listed in his citation, more likely represents the reverse side of an otherwise bright medal. In our view, through his crusade, the dignity of the person is violently transgressed, justice for the most vulnerable is trampled on, the healing arts are compromised, and little faith is shown for the future. Is this really what we want as a nation?Catherine Doherty would not have judged Henry Morgentaler, nor should we. Like all of us, he is a poor person. Has he not been surrounded by death all his life? Yet we have to protest ... simply, peacefully, unremittingly and with the tools we have at hand ... the serious misdirection our country and many of its leaders, in our view, appear to be taking, as exemplified by the award and glowing citation given him for his misguided work. Catherine Doherty would shout, "Wait. Don’t you see where we are going? There is another way. I’ll show it to you." With this act of returning the Order of Canada we are choosing to place truth before honours. It is the truth pointed to in the very motto of the Order of Canada, taken from the Bible, Hebrews 11:16 -- desiderantes meliorem patriam ... "they desire a better homeland...". In truth, does this verse fragment not find its full meaning in the words that rightly complete the line? They are, "they desire a better homeland, theirheavenly homeland." The verse concludes; "That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, since he has founded the city forthem."In the end, by returning the Order of Canada, we simply wish to bring, to the consideration of the people, what was and, arguably still is, a founding vision for Canada. Catherine Doherty would do the same.

Respectfully Yours,
Fr. David May, Susanne Stubbs, Mark Schlingerman
Directors General of Madonna House for all Madonna House Apostolate

Our Lady of Combermere

Combermere in Ontario, Canada is the home of the Madonna House Apostolate(www.madonnahouse.org) .

Combermere means "mother of a plateau in the mountain".

On the 8th June 1960 the statue of Our Lady of Combermere ("standing with arms wide open to welcome and embrace") was installed and blessed. Everyone present united in saying the Prayer of Our Lady of Combermere that the people of Madonna House had been saying every day for years. It has continued to be used there and around the world ever since.

"O Mary, you desire so much to see Jesus loved. Since you love me, this is the favour which I ask of you: to obtain for me a great personal love of Jesus Christ. You obtain from your Son whatever you please; pray then for me, that I may never lose the grace of God, that I may increase in holiness and perfection from day to day, and that I may faithfully and nobly fulfil the great calling in life which your Divine Son has given me. By that grief which you suffered on Calvary when you beheld Jesus die on the Cross, obtain for me a happy death, that by loving Jesus and you, my Mother, on earth, I may share your joy in loving and blessing the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit forever in heaven. Amen.

Our Lady of Combermere, pray for us.