Showing posts with label Sister Marietta Fahey SHF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sister Marietta Fahey SHF. Show all posts

26 April 2023

Follow-up on Growing as a Hermit: The importance of Others and Learning to Listen

[[Dear Sister, first of all, thank you for your response to my question. Also, thank you for the chance to follow up. What I was interested to hear was how does a hermit with little access to other people measure their [own] growth? Here's where I was coming from in my question. I know that it is in my relationships with others that I really find out whether I have been growing or not. Sometimes I think I've got some hang up taken care of and all of a sudden there's an encounter with someone at my parish and any thought that I have grown in my ability to love others, or my capacity for patience, or whatever --- is shown for the delusion it is! It just seemed to me that a hermit has less chance to have the kinds of experiences that prove whether they have grown or not.

I also wanted to follow up on what you said about letting God be God. I never made the connection before between letting God be God, letting ourselves be loved by God, and loving God ourselves. They really are all the same thing, aren't they? Thank you for that insight!]]

Thanks again for getting back to me. I understand where you are coming from in your observation regarding access to people or relationships. My own experience is, in some ways, the same as yours with regard to seeing how I have grown as a hermit. One source of gauging or measuring growth will be how I deal with other people. Sometimes this has to do with how others still trigger reactions in me, how I get irritated or impatient or judgmental --- all that kind of thing. Sometimes I will notice shifts in relating that are more positive (though I might be noticing how much less irritated or impatient or judgmental I get than I once did, and this represents growth and healing). Yes, there's nothing like relating to others, especially after periods of solitude, to help one see the work that has been done and the work (or conversion, growth, or healing) that still needs to be done!!!

Sister Marietta Fahey, SHF
I do pay attention to the keys these kinds of encounters with others give me, but the source of growth, healing, and conversion will always mainly be my relationship with God. I grow in that relationship and as I do that, I find that it bears fruit in other relationships, in the way in which I see reality around me (for instance, is my realism tinged (or strongly colored) by cynicism or by hope?), and in the way I experience or know myself as well. It also bears fruit in the way I live each day, how I handle illness and chronic pain, how faithful, caring, creative, and courageous I am able to be in spite of limitations, and in all of this, how faithful to prayer.) There are certainly times when all of that is harder (and sometimes very much harder) than at others and I depend on regular meetings with my director to share it all and to maintain perspective and direction. In between meetings for SD, it is journaling, prayer periods, and my time with Scripture that help keep me in touch with who I am called to be and who I am becoming. 

I think what I want you to hear here is the fact that a hermit's life is not ordinarily entirely closed off from others, or from the kind of listening and responding that characterizes relationships with these same others. Eremitical solitude is not isolation, after all!  Also, there are other ways to listen. I know, for instance, that when I stop journaling (or blogging!!) for a period of time something needs special attention. I know something is up when my prayer -- or my approach to prayer -- changes (for instance, I resist prayer or can't return to a normal pattern after a period of illness), or Scripture feels relatively flat to me. Note, however, the changes can also indicate something positive is going on with me and certainly in my relationship with God (and others), so, for instance, the need to add a third period of quiet prayer to the day.)  All of this, and what it all means for being faithful to (growing in) my identity and vocation in Christ depends on a commitment to listening and openness to myself and to God, and so, all of it is implicated in what I refer to as faithfulness to prayer. 

I remember writing here once about Thomas Merton saying that to be really crazy requires other people and that sanity was gained with the trees and mountains (probably a bad paraphrase but it will do for a very limited application). We really have to learn to listen to the content and quality of our own hearts if we are to grow. Moreover, we must learn to hear who God says we are --- how he loves and takes delight in us!! I think that best occurs in the silence of solitude, whether that solitude is about being in touch with ourselves while resting in the heart of God alone, being in touch with ourselves through the abundant life of God's creation, or seeing ourselves anew as we speak our truth to a good friend who generously gives herself over to hearing and accompanying us in this journey toward the fullness of Selfhood. In all of these situations we can hear our own hearts gently reflected back to us if we have learned to listen. That way lies growth, no matter who we are. Sometimes, our encounters with others result in inner turmoil, a kind of cacophony that doesn't serve growth in quite the same way --- if at all!

Thanks again for the follow-up question. I enjoyed pursuing this a bit further than I pursued it originally! And yes, "Letting God be God" etc.,  all mean essentially the same thing!!! Pretty cool, isn't it?

18 July 2022

Road Trip!!! Sisters of the Holy Family Motherhouse

Sundial on MH Grounds
I don't get out much and during the pandemic it has been even harder to do, but today (Friday, 15 July) Sister Marietta and I are going on a road trip to visit her Motherhouse in Fremont and spend the day together. We are celebrating several years of intense work and where that has brought us, so I am excited!! The Motherhouse and grounds in question have changed over the last few years (also intense years of work!) with three "cottages" replacing the original building including one for Sisters who need more care than others and a separate oratory. The grounds have been repurposed in several ways including some of the space being used for low-income housing, a park held in trust by a non-profit group, and access to healthcare for low-income seniors. Because Marietta's congregation (Sisters of the Holy Family) is moving toward the completion of their life, they wanted to be sure the values the Sisters have always held and embodied, those they have worked towards and in light of in so many ways, were built right into the continued use of the property and resources the Sisters would one day leave behind. Today I get to see the results of all of that hard work and letting go (kenosis) so that the SHF charism could continue to live in Fremont, CA and beyond as well.

I have been to the SHF Motherhouse before, but it was a long 
time ago (@1984) for a profession or other special celebration. The MH Chapel was beautiful, of course, and typical of chapels built at that time. I never really had a chance to walk the grounds or take in all that was part of the complex itself. And now a lot of that has changed. I have seen pictures of the new cottages and grounds and heard a few stories as well. Sister Marietta was in leadership (2+ terms) when much of this was planned and carried out, so she has an insider's view of things and today she is my tour guide. Pretty cool. I am hoping my imagination has taken in at least some of what Marietta has described to me because where my own mind tends to go instead is to all of the hard decisions, letting go, demolition, chaos, red-tape, and grief involved in this many-year project. I'll return to this post after our "road trip."

Returning from today's Road Trip:

KAZOWEE! What a great day and how incredibly impressed I am with what the Sisters of the Holy Family have created as they faced into the future with compassion, courage, and creativity! 2022, is the 150th anniversary of the congregation's founding and as Sister Gladys Guenther, Congregational President notes, [[No milestone anniversary escapes the desire to leave something for future generations.]] Well, the Sisters of the Holy Family remain a faithful presence in Fremont, the Bay area and beyond**, but the gift they have given to the larger community, even once the Sisters have gone, is hard to describe in its beauty, thoughtfulness, and love. They have indeed left something for future generations in ways which will make innumerable lives better and even serve as a paradigm for other religious congregations.

Sister Marietta Fahey, SHF
As noted, at the heart of this complex of projects are the 3 cottages where the Sisters reside (capacity @16 Sisters per cottage). Each one has a community room with flat screen TV, dining room, and also a prayer space with tabernacle. Each Sister has her own room with a kitchenette area and space for microwave, small refrigerator, hot pot, etc. The two cottages on either end have a large kitchen (probably the third cottage does also, I just can't remember that). Between two of the cottages is the oratory where Mass is celebrated, and larger meetings are held. There is a closed-circuit TV system linking everything so services can be "beamed" to the cottages for Sisters who cannot attend events in the oratory. Each cottage has its own patio area and behind the oratory was a large, canopied area with many circular tables for receptions, space for meals with guests, etc. This is where Marietta and I brought our lunch and ate. It is surrounded by flowers and greenery of all sorts, along with level walkways, and sits on a large area of artificial grass. Throughout all of this, think solar panels, environmentally sensitive plantings and materials, double-paned doors and windows, and anything else necessary for a project attuned to a smaller carbon footprint and the needs of creation.

What is most striking about all of this beauty and functionality (besides the presence of bees and more Monarch butterflies than I have seen in years) is the fact that the Sisters built this complex knowing and planning for the fact that, as noted above, one day they would be no more. When it came time to decide what to do with the Motherhouse property as part of plans for the Sisters' future there were a number of options. The Sisters wanted to remain where they were; they chose to age in place and what has been built here will allow that in complete faithfulness to the Sisters' identity as Sisters of the Holy Family. By itself that would be a tremendous achievement; this is, however, only the beginning of what the SHF have accomplished here. In time, also in complete faithfulness to the SHF charism, the cottages could be given over to low-income housing for seniors in need, those with disabilities, etc., which would allow for groups like On Lok to provide healthcare, physical therapy, and in-home care or assisted living. The oratory could be converted to a meeting or community room. No specific decisions have been made at this point. Discernment, of course, continues.

As Marietta showed me around, I thought a bit about the town where I had grown up in Southern California. In a couple of places in our town we had low-income or "public" housing. We called these complexes, "the projects," and a grimmer place was hard to imagine: large shoebox-shaped rectangles divided into tiny apartments with facades as bereft of imagination or beauty as the Pete Seeger song's, "little boxes made of ticky tacky" that "all look just the same"; there were a few bushes planted up against the buildings as I recall, but relatively few trees, no landscaping to speak of, and large lawns mostly given over to clothes lines, dirt (or mud, depending on the season), and dust over everything; in later years the windows were covered with bars and the grounds were given over to used condoms, syringes, needles, and other detritus of hopelessness. 

Except for energetic little children playing together, it felt like a soulless and soul-destroying place. To grow up in "the projects" was, it seemed to me, either a badge of courage or of shame (I could never be sure which --- though now I know it was both). The taunt that one lived in or was from "the projects" often led to fistfights as the poorest of the poor struck back. What strikes me now is how the "quality" of the housing there -- all designed and constructed devoid of real care or quality resources --- served to teach me (wrongly!!) about the value of the people living in the projects. But the Sisters of the Holy Family have always seen the value and potential of those they ministered to --- the poorest among us, and especially to families and children. In light of this SHF complex of projects, they will continue doing that even when the last Sister has died; every detail of what they have built and will leave behind them is beautiful and teaches a very different series of lessons than those I was taught by "the projects" of my childhood. And so, my own sense of the SHF's achievement deepened even further as Marietta showed me more of what they had realized here.

Original Private Residence on MH Grounds
Parts of the Motherhouse property (@5.5 acres) have already been given over to a quiet park, a place of genuine peace in the midst of the world's struggle, bustling, and (sometimes) busy emptiness. (Marietta described once meeting a man in the park while he was sitting on a bench eating his lunch. When she greeted him with a friendly question, he explained he was "on retreat"!) It will be kept as open green space in perpetuity. Think sacred space and a commitment to the United Nations Earth Charter here. Another 6.5 acres have been given over to what has become a village of low-income houses, apartments for seniors, and so forth. I was completely gobsmacked by the beauty and diversity of the houses. Nothing in this looked like "low-income" housing. Diverse architecture with character and variations in color from house to house, space for living, and a sense of quiet and safety marked the whole. 

Where the former Motherhouse itself once stood, there are now several large single-family houses opening onto the park area. (The Sister's cottages and oratory -- the new Motherhouse --- are safely gated and closed to the public who might use the park or walk the neighborhood including the private driveway alongside the cottages; fencing of the cottages is already covered by greenery creating a natural sense of enclosure and privacy --- but also of belonging.) All of this sang of care and grace -- in all of the senses held by either term. All of it witnessed to the value of every single life and the capacity each possesses --- a value the Sisters of the Holy Family were, again, founded to protect and nurture. Most amazingly then, in this project (or complex of projects) the young and old, the poor and the wealthy live side-by-side without distinction or clear delineation. Again, it is an incredible achievement -- an achievement that will outshine (and be worthy of) all of the prayer, struggle, grief, letting go, chaos, red tape, etc., I found so much easier to imagine before seeing the results.

Jean Francois Millet, The Gleaners
There is a single word characterizing the identity and ministry of the Sisters of the Holy Family. They are gleaners. With roots in the OT books of Leviticus and Ruth and the NT ministry of Jesus, here is a description of the meaning of the term written in the article, "150 Years of Gleaning" Family of Friends (Spring 2022): [[ . . .Jesus. . . told his followers: "Open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest."  Yet, there is wheat dropped from this reaping that lies hidden, full of potential but left behind. Will this grain never be gathered in? Close to sunset, other people enter the fields --- gleaners --- bending low in the quickening darkness to search among the stubble, finding not sheaves of grain, but kernels on the margins of the harvest. For 150 years the Sisters of the Holy Family have gleaned the fields for God. We as gleaners look for the underserved, the marginalized, those undiscovered by other laborers in the fields of the Lord. This is our mission, our purpose and our joy. . ..]]

A Final Word:

Event in new Oratory
The Sisters of the Holy Family I know give themselves daily in faithfulness to a God who sees each one of us as persons of infinite value, beauty, and potential. They see as God sees and they work hard to bring to birth and fullness of being all that God wills in and through their ministry. They look clearly at and live fully in the present with hearts rooted in the hope-filled future God is summoning into being through them and the rest of us in Christ. As a result, they have always been pioneers and prophets, and that is true here too. They have created a space of beauty and peace where human beings can live and die with integrity and a sense of having value and dignity, no matter their income, cultural or ethnic background, religion, age, etc., --- a place that will continue and even expand the Sisters' mission once they have all gone home to God. 

If I have been too repetitive in this piece, if it seems like three or four different pieces because I had to start and stop several times as I processed what I had seen and heard, or if words have failed me too often, my apologies. The fact is I cannot adequately express how impressed I am with what these women have done (for this was a women's project driven by women's sensibilities at every point) except to say that I am moved to tears of pride and joy every time I think of it.

** The Sisters of the Holy Family began in San Francisco (Foundress: Mother Dolores Armer, with Father John Prendergast) and then moved or spread out to Oakland, Fremont, San Diego, the Central Valley, Texas, Utah, Nevada, Kentucky, South Dakota, Alaska and Hawaii.

24 April 2011

In Memoriam, Marjory C Folinsbee-Harlan, MD, deceased 24 April, 2009

[Marjory Folinsbee, MD (left) Marietta Fahey, SHF (right)]

Two years ago today I lost one of the most important people in my life. Marjory C Folinsbee - Harlan, MD, was my physician for @17 years until her retirement in @1989; thereafter she was my friend, unofficial formator, and mentor. In particular, she was one of those who taught me what it means to love and be loved despite every obstacle or resistance. Her consistent presence in my life since January of 1972 was a joy, and quite often, a major challenge I did not always appreciate as well as I came to later on!! I still grieve her loss but I also celebrate a new kind of presence because she has entered a realm which both transcends and interpenetrates this one of space and time. Especially, though, I rejoice with her as she has truly come home to God and is reunited with all those who died before her.

Marjory was one of the first and very few women in Medical school in Canada back in the days when it was truly a men's world and medicine itself a man's field. She was a pioneer in many ways, not least because she grew up on the frontier of Saskatchewan, went to a one room school house (she got there on horseback with her sister). Later on she went to medical school first in Saskatchewan, and then at Stanford. She was a pilot (her first plane was named "Therapy" because it functioned that way for her after the wholly unexpected, sudden death of her first husband), she pioneered programs for young women from difficult families, worked with the Sisters of the Good Shepherd in San Francisco, pioneered programs in other countries to allow the very poor to become entrepreneurs. Professionally, though she had begun practice in internal medicine, she went back to school to study psychiatry because it was her experience that most people needed someone to talk to more than anything else. While she was known as an expert in neuropsychiatric pharmacology, she disdained the practice of psychiatry which was merely oriented to medicating the patient. When I first met her she was associate chief of neuropsychiatry at Pacific Presbyterian Medical Center, also in San Francisco. She maintained a private practice as well, first in San Francisco, and then in San Mateo. Later she saw patients in Carefree, AZ, etc --- depending on where she and Ridge (2nd husband) were living.

When Mar first died, I simply had no words and though I borrowed a poem from the work of Jessica Powers (Sister Miriam of the Holy Spirit, OCD), I never posted it. I think it still fits -- and it fits especially on this Easter Sunday as I imagine the welcome Jesus' death and resurrection made possible. (Ironically, it also echoes dimensions of the life I live now in part because of Mar's assistance!)

The spirit, newly freed from earth,
is all amazed at the surprise
of her belonging: suddenly
as native to eternity
to see herself, to realize
the hermitage that lets her be
at home where all this glory lies.

By naught foretold could she have guessed
such welcome home: the robe, the ring,
music and endless banqueting,
these people hers; this place of rest
known, as of long remembering
herself a child of God and pressed
with warm endearments to His breast

The Homecoming by Jessica Powers (Sister Miriam of the Holy Spirit, OCD)

But today I need to add a little to this, and something far more personal than I usually post here. On this day when we celebrate the wonder that death no longer has the final word, it is especially poignant for me to celebrate her life. She struggled against death in many forms every single day of her adult life, and directly saved my own at least three times (e.g., via IV meds, CPR, and/or ventilation in the face of status epilepticus or serious seizures). More, along with my spiritual director, she worked consistently that I might have life and have it to the fullest. She knew that genuine freedom was the power to be the ones we are called to be despite constraints and limitations, and she wanted that for me. She reminded me of it in ways courses in theology, good as they are, could never do. When I was finally professed in community in 1976, she was present sitting right up front (she "wanted to see everything!"). And then again in 2007 for perpetual eremitical profession and consecration, she was present and carried up the gifts along with Sister Marietta and my sister (Cindy) and niece (Ellen). It seemed so fittingly symbolic to have Mar and Marietta, along with my closest family, carry up the bread and wine that would be so incredibly transformed into the very Body and blood of Christ.

In our last real conversation (November 2008) partly in honor of her birthday and partly for Thanksgiving, I thanked Mar for the gift she was in my life. We talked some about the death of her husband, Ridge Harlan (just a couple of years before this), about her own struggle with chronic lymphocytic leukemia (a splenectomy a number of months before had improved things significantly for the time being it seemed), and also about the shape and richness of my own life --- how right the move to diocesan eremitical life was, and how I was growing in it in the unexpected ways it made possible. I joked that I suspected that for most psychiatrists having a patient (or former patient) who quite literally became an "official" hermit would be counted by the physician's peers as a "treatment failure." Mar laughed at the general truth of this and then became quite serious. She affirmed she had "never doubted that my life in solitude was a true vocation" (she had certainly never said so to me in all these years!), and further, that in her view, I "had taken a 'treatment success' and [with the grace of God] turned it into a way of life." She said she "could not be prouder of or happier for me." For my part, it was humbling and a very great joy to know what all of this added to her own life.

Christ came that we might have life and have it abundantly. He came so that death, whether ultimate or in any of its lesser forms, would neither dominate nor define us and faith (trust in God) would replace fear. He came that we might be liberated from whatever cripples us and walk courageously, with integrity, wholeness, vision, and the wisdom and joy that comes when the exigencies of life meet the grace of God. When we are really fortunate, we find friends (and maybe even the occasional professional) who participate in this mission of Jesus and themselves summon us to its concrete realization --- even if they never speak in religious terms. Marjory Folinsbee (Harlan) was one such person for me, and on this day in particular I celebrate her memory and the gift she was, and continues to be in my life.