Visitation Monastery of Minneapolis

by Sister Mary Frances on July 31, 2020

 

 
 
 

by Caitlin Parsley on July 25, 2020

As these special and undoubtedly strange months as a VIP intern come to a close, I am cherishing the “little nosegay of devotion,” as Frances de Sales would say, that I’ve gathered up.

It is such a beautiful bouquet reminding me that the little things make the biggest difference; silence is sacred and healing; being who you are and being that well glorifies God; childlike spirits are possible at any age; wisdom listens first, loves next, and speaks only if necessary; fellowship happens where the food is; living Jesus looks like open doors and open hearts; and prayer is not passive but powerful.

The little things make the biggest difference	Silence is sacred and healing	Being who you are and being that well glorifies God	Childlike spirits are possible at any age
Wisdom listens first, loves next, and speaks only if necessary	Fellowship happens where the food is	Living Jesus looks like open doors and open hearts	Prayer is not passive but powerful

The list could go on and on. That being said, the simplest lesson that has stuck with me is this:
 

 

What little occasions for serving God are before you today?

While enjoying that sweet peach, I began to ponder the spiritual fruit God grows in our lives (Gal 5:22-23). Out of gratitude for all God has given us, we have the opportunity to generously share our fruits, both peaches and love, with the world around us.

It is no coincidence that back in February, for my VIP mission statement, I wrote about sharing fruit. I believe it was the Spirit speaking over these months and guiding my mission. I wrote, “My goal is not self improvement but spiritual fruits such as love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness. These fruits are to be shared and multiplied as I practically live out my love for God and His people.”

In a world consumed by selfishness, overwhelmed with scarcity, and wounded by sin, the simple and small act of sharing fruit has the potential to love, heal, and change our world.

It is already happening, one peach at a time.

 
 
 
 
 
 

by Anna Dourgarian on June 14, 2020

Be careful in turbulent times. Anxiety is an opportunity for the evil one to distract and, little by little, ensnare you.

In the Gospel today, “the Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’” (John 6:52). Likewise, we argue: how will we stay safe from the pandemic? How will we feed all the hungry? How will we uncover unconscious bias and overthrow unjust systems?

How indeed? Remember that the Lord our God “brought forth water for you from the flinty rock and fed you in the desert with manna, a food unknown to your fathers” (Deuteronomy 8:16). God provides.

You know what you need to know: that the Lord our God loves and cares for you. Pray as He taught you, serve as He showed you, love as He loved you, and He will give you the answers you seek.

Sister Mary Virginia Schmidt would tell you to follow the example of Don Quixote. (Don Quixote is her favorite book; if you mention it to her, you will see her face light up.) She loves Don Quixote because, though he tilts at windmills, he is devoted to virtue and clings blindly to chivalry. He pursues love at the expense of all else. He might be laughably addled, but he knows his priorities.

For every thought and every action that you make with trust firmly rooted in the Lord, you let yourself be a tool by which He will change our world. Maybe you represented at a protest. Maybe you prayed passionately for peace. Maybe you fought hard to understand someone else’s point of view. Give your work to the Lord, and take quiet confidence that you are making a difference.

Do not worry that what you are doing is not enough. Do not worry that society is lost to sin. Despair is a victory for evil. Bring your grief to the altar as your sacrifice. Be gentle with yourself. Take each step as you are prepared to take it.

Walk by faith. Christ, the living bread, is a miracle worker beyond our comprehension.

 

by Anna Dourgarian on April 11, 2020

 
Today is a sad Easter Eve. With the pandemic, Lent has been especially somber. While we should hope and pray for an extra Easter miracle, we cannot depend on it. God may ask us to continue our Lenten fasting and sacrifice throughout the Easter season.

This year, the Sisters planned to climb mountains with our Lenten Sunday readings, from Jesus’ temptation on a mountain to His crucifixion on the Mount of Golgotha. They planned to climb with intentional prayers, minimal decorations, and gifts to their neighbors of meat foregone from their own table.

But God had something else planned. He shut down the state. He doubled the size of the mountain. When COVID-19 hit, Lent became a time of strict discipline and constraint. The Sisters canceled visits with friends and mourned the world’s suffering from sickness, lost finances, and isolation.

In the confusion and the sorrow, I am reminded of Narnia in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis, where it was “always winter and never Christmas” (20). It seems like it is always Lent and never Easter.

But Lent had another, hidden side. Beyond the mountains, Sunday readings also foretold the Lord’s promises, in the cure of the blind man and the raising of Lazarus. For the Sisters, they found inspiration and aid from the glory of the Saints. They also got to companion the children and adults scheduled to receive Rites of Initiation tonight at Easter Vigil Mass, and they continue to pray even as the Rites are postponed.

While they miss the people coming in and out of their home, the Sisters find beauty in the quiet. Time for paying attention to the birds in the garden and the green grass is a balm to their sadness. Out of the tragedy, they see goodness and God’s guiding hand. As Sister Mary Paula pointed out, “This is my ninetieth Lent, and originally it was hard to see something new in it. But this year has been different.”

Friends, despite the hard times, stay alert, and stay joyful. Jesus is on the move.
 

by Jody Reis Johnson on February 28, 2020

I was studying the pattern for my latest knitting project when my eye was drawn to a section entitled “Joining New Yarn.” Instructions were given about how to incorporate a new ball of wool when one runs out or how to introduce a new color. The section began thus: “When joining new yarn, it is usually best to simply drop the old thread and pick up the new. Resume knitting and leave enough of an end on both yarns to weave in later.”

I was astonished! Could it really be that simple? A veteran knitter, I knew several other methods for joining yarn into a project, including knitting with both threads for awhile and even splicing the threads by sewing one into the other — a tedious job. Never in all my years of experience had I come across this easiest and perhaps most obvious way.

This image has been weaving itself into my prayers, perhaps because it has something to tell me about dealing with change. As with knitting, I tend to over-complicate change, making it harder than it needs to be. I sputter, hesitate, and dig in my heels. When I reflect on what the real obstacles to change are, I usually find two things: regrets about the past and fears about the future.

Contrast that with Jesus’s first disciples who, when they heard His call to follow, “immediately left their nets and followed Him” (see Mt 4:20). No hesitation. No looking back. It seems they just dropped the old yarn and picked up the new. How was this possible? I can only surmise that, in the presence of the Holy One, the call was so compelling and their trust so complete that they could surrender everything at once. Perhaps the first thing to do, when faced with change, is to place ourselves in God’s presence through prayer.

As I write this, Bryce and I are wintering in the desert. This seems to be our new pattern in these transition years of retirement, somewhere between middle and old age. The desert itself is a powerful image of transition in the Judeo-Christian faith. Since the time of the ancient Hebrews, it has been a mysterious no-place whose emptiness and silence invite us into what lies between past and future, between here and there: the present moment, where God meets us and transforms us. Contemplative or desert wisdom teaches, moreover, that both past and future are touched by this present-moment encounter with God’s healing power; that is part of the mystery of God. We can trust that everything — past misgivings, future missteps or calamities — is held in the hand of our loving Father.

Yet the present moment does not occur in some mysterious, far-off place, but in the particular circumstances of our own lives. Francis de Sales, a down-to-earth contemplative, teaches that we move toward holiness by embracing the joys and challenges right where we are — “the sauce we are in,” as Francis would say. Change is certainly a slippery sauce. He would be reluctant to wave away our human regrets and worries with a sweeping counsel to simply trust and let go. Rather, I imagine St. Francis might say something like this: “If you have amends to make; make them; if grief lingers, grieve; if there are plans to be made, start planning. Then, just drop the old thread and pick up the new, letting God help you weave in the ends later.”
 

 

by Anna Dourgarian on February 7, 2020

Thirty years ago, Sister Mary Paula was cleaning the Fremont house as the founding members of the Visitation Monastery of Minneapolis moved in. She supported and loved them from the very beginning. Now, in an unexpected turn of events, she has joined them.

The transition has been challenging. Through it all, she has never lost her joy or her energy.

There have been some fun times in her first year! She loves the expression of community at Ascension Church—“a microcosm of the universal Church played out in reality,” as she poetically puts it. The parishioners deeply care for each other. She can’t go to Communion without a few hugs along the way.

She also had a blast celebrating her ninetieth birthday, where she connected her giant biological family with her giant “coterie” of neighbors.

Sadly, there have been some low times. The Divine Office, which is so precious to her, is in a slightly different translation than she is used to, so she trips over the words.

Also, she must adjust to the different lifestyle. She was surprised by the hustle and bustle from the door ministry. She can’t sit still for an hour without the doorbell ringing 2-3 times!

But good luck slowing down Sister Mary Paula. Regarding the Divine Office, she says with her characteristic determination, “Give me a year or two, and I will get it.” As for the lifestyle adjustment, she relies with confidence and gratitude on the compassion and understanding of the other Sisters. Sometimes she retreats upstairs for quiet.

One year ago, Sister Mary Paula arrived at the Minneapolis monastery with two bottles of wine for a festive evening in her new community. But the bottles were not opened: that afternoon, Sister Mary Virginia fell, cutting short the celebrations with a trip to the hospital.

Such is the way with transitions. You never know what to expect. They keep you on your toes.

She is more convinced than ever that the Vis way of life, “inspired common sense,” is her calling and has validity in every community. It works! She advises, “Keep remembering that you trust in God. It is His plan and His journey—the journey to Him—that you’re on.”
 

 

by Anna Dourgarian on January 2, 2020

Every year, the Visitation Sisters of Minneapolis celebrate the Epiphany with a Gateau des Rois (a King Cake, or Twelfth Night Cake). It is an old French tradition, true to their roots of the first Visitation monastery in Annecy, France. A small token like a porcelain figurine or bean is hidden in the cake, and the finder is dubbed “king” — or, in the Sisters’ case, the “Bean Queen”!

Sister Suzanne kindly shared her recipe with me, and I tried making my own King Cake. It has led me on a culinary adventure. I challenge you to make your own King Cake! Share a photo with the Sisters on Facebook.

Note: there are a wide variety of King Cake recipes available online due to its vast history (it is possibly 700 years old). Sister Suzanne’s recipe, a puff pastry with an almond paste middle layer, is actually a Galette des Rois from northern France or Koningentaart from Flemish / Dutch traditions, as opposed to the Gateau des Rois, a brioche with candied fruit, from southern France that is commonly used in New Orleans to celebrate Mardi Gras.

Here is Sister Suzanne’s recipe:
 
Ingredients:

 
Method:

 
Notes from my attempt:

 
Good luck with your cake! Please share your results on Facebook! I’m excited to hear how it goes for you.

Happy Epiphany!
 

by Sister Brenda Lisenby on October 28, 2019

This past summer while on pilgrimage to France, I had the opportunity to visit the Visitation Monastery in Paray-le-Monial, France, home to St Margaret Mary. The Mother Superior welcomed us, recounting the visions of Margaret Mary. After she had shown us around, she invited me as a new Sister to enter the cloister part of the Monastery and go to the room where Margaret Mary had died. It is kept as a small oratorium today and as I entered I was deeply moved. I asked Mother Marie Simon if I could sit for a moment. I barely have words to describe what I felt, but I knew I had become deeply aware of suffering. I thought I was sensing the suffering Margaret Mary experienced in her life, but as I look back on it now, I cannot say that it was Margaret Mary’s suffering I was encountering. Perhaps she was carrying her mission to make the suffering Heart of Jesus known to me?! As I sat with that deep suffering, I felt another movement, one of compassion. In the midst of great suffering, there was also great compassion. Maybe, just maybe, I was experiencing a small echo of Margaret Mary’s exchange of hearts as she continues her mission to make the Heart of Jesus known to all.
 
 
We recently celebrated the Feast of St Margaret Mary on October 16. For the rest of the Catholic Church, this day is noted as an “optional memorial” but for Visitation Sisters around the world, this is a feast day. This year we also celebrated the beginning of a Year of Jubilee for Visitation Monasteries in honor of the 100th anniversary of the canonization of St Margaret Mary.

Margaret Mary Alacoque was born in 1647 and entered the Visitation Monastery in Paray-le-Monial, France, in 1671. Her early childhood is recounted as happy. Her father died when she was 8 years old and after that time she suffered much, with family dysfunction, physical illness, and mental illness interweaving themselves throughout her young life. Yet from an early age, Margaret Mary had a special devotion to Jesus. After she entered the monastery, she had a series of visions where she was in conversation with Jesus. Basically, Jesus said:

1. I love you.

2. I am not loved enough.

3. Please love me.

Margaret Mary’s response was to give her heart to Jesus, and Jesus in turn placed his heart in her. We often refer to this as the “exchange of hearts.” She accepted her mission to make Jesus’ heart more known and loved, for all of us to experience this “exchange of hearts” with Jesus. There had long been a devotion to the Heart of Jesus (also known as the Sacred Heart) but Margaret Mary promoted the Heart of Jesus especially and a number of devotional practices have grown up around it. This year we remember her and her mission to make the Heart of Jesus known, so that we too might experience the “exchange of hearts” and render love for love.

by Sister Karen Mohan on September 21, 2019

On September 21, while the rest of my community was in retreat, I had the opportunity to participate in the WALK FOR PLANET PEACE, a march sponsored by the Twin Cities Nonviolent Committee as part of the 2nd Annual “10 Days Free From Violence.” The walk began at the steps of the St. Paul Cathedral and ended at the steps of the Capitol where speakers and representatives from various faith traditions shared prayers and readings on peace.

I carried a large PEACE sign of the kind that sits in front of each of our two houses. A woman of Indian descent inquired where she might get such a sign, and since we have as many as we need, I gave mine to her. That simple gesture reinforced a bond of peace with Preeti, and it seemed to me to be in keeping with a major goal of this march: to honor Gandhi’s vision of peace on his 150th birthday (which will be October 2).

I was not aware of Gandhi’s birth date until this year, so I was especially moved by the realization that October 2, the day of our missioning to north Minneapolis, coincides with the birth of this great prophet of peace! It is also the Feast of the Guardian Angels. So, on this doubly special day we were missioned “to show gentleness and offer peacefulness to the community, if only for a moment.”

30 years later, as we celebrate God’s providential care of us in this neighborhood that is “home” to us, I pray that Gandhi’s spirit under the protection of the Guardian Angels will move us to keep sharing the peace that Jesus lived.