Who was that "Badass Nun" Jack mentioned tonight?

Sister Corita Kent!

 master serigraph-er, educator, social activist, truth teller, "in, but not of the world", radical, edgy

She's probably one of my favorite artists. I first found Corita by accident. I was in the Portland

Art Museum for an Andy Warhol exhibit, where when I was done with Andy, I went 

downstairs and stumbled upon a Corita exhibit. It was an immediate love affair. 

Here are some of her works. I'd suggest exploring her more if any of 

this interests you, because she's quite the treat once you start 

to unpack the progression and meaning behind all 

of her works. With a non-conventional 

background, she's also, what 

I would consider, a 

Contemplative

in Action.

Enjoy

Between Hope and Fear: Musings During Prayer Last Week by Sofia

Fr. Eric Olsen, my pastor, at Midnight Xmas Mass 2018. This is a Christmas devotion where the faithful "rock" baby Jesus to sleep before taking their baby Jesus figurine home or putting it back at the church's manger. 

I admire those people that seem to have endless faith. People that have rarely questioned their sense of hope for their Creator and their world. It appears, to me, both ridiculously simple and the most extraordinary thing to hold-faith.  

I have often felt guilty for what appears to be a lack of faith in God. I see a broken world and I have wondered time and time again where Love itself has been?

I see my own family story, riddled with marital separation and the pain upstream and downstream of that, confusing political messages of my worth as an "illegal alien" child, financial strife, and a surplus of blessed adversity. I need not add the pain that I am limited to experiencing through God-given sympathy and compassion.

It seems my love story with God has been one of finding the Creator in chaos. However, I admit, that story is often narrated with a lot of anger, confusion and disbelief that I am actually loved and seen.

Last week in prayer, I journaled with past Sunday readings and felt drawn to 1 Corinthians's famous little line of "But by the grace of God I am what I am".
Here are the glorious scribbles that one can achieve when you refuse to switch to a better prayer time than 11 p.m. on Wednesdays: 😛



It's a curious thing to see the stark contrast between what praying with "grace" brought and what praying with " I am what I am" brought. Both are realities of me, of my relationship with others, of my relationship with my Creator. For me, God seems to dwell between hope and fear.

God dwelling in the fear that brings me call my mother and tell her I need to leave my PhD because anxiety/depression has not allowed me to get out of bed and eat for consecutive days after only being moved in a month before. God dwelling in the suffocating darkness of that moment.

God dwelling in the hope that has brought me with a full and vulnerable heart to CLA.

Does God dwell in chaos for you? In both fear and hope? How? When? What have you learned through that?

Everything I Know About Feminism I Learned From Nuns from Shannon

In light of all the bad press around religious lately, this NYTimes article warmed my heart.

Everything I Know About Feminism I Learned From Nuns

Going to an all-girls high school was formative for me at a time in my life when school needed to be my focus. I realize it's not a perfect fit for everyone, but I'm grateful for my experience.

I don't remember using the word "feminist" in high school, but the nuns and other teachers modeled for us and encouraged us to be leaders and stand up for ourselves while maintaining empathy for the people in the world around us.

For four years I lived in a pocket of the universe completely run and inhabited by the women and the girls around me. It gave me the confidence to ask boys to dances, speak my mind in class, run meetings and give presentations. It was a silly, loving and challenging place to grow.

From the article:

Perhaps because my own daughter is now in second grade, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the ways in which I was taught to pursue truth and justice, and how inseparable these ideals became from my understanding of what it meant to be a girl.

How have the religious influences in your life unexpectedly shaped you?

On Glasses by Jack

I'll share an experience that I was reflecting on the other day. I'm currently participating in a writing class and we were asked to share a picture of ourselves. Generally, I'm not a fan of sharing pictures of myself, but I found one that I'm particularly fond of from when I was in Nicaragua and I was "pre-glasses". I made the comment in my introduction about being "blissfully unaware" of my need for glasses at the time of the picture.

I first realized I needed glasses in my senior year of college. I remember that my moment of realization happened in the terribly exciting "Industrial Organizations and Antitrust Policy" class. Sitting there, slightly hungover, I tried rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I was sitting next to my friend, Andy (a life long wearer of glasses), and he saw me rubbing my eyes and randomly said, "Here. Try these on." I decided to give them a try. Why not? I slipped on those glasses and boom *cue angelic horns playing some sort of epiphany tune*. Everything on the whiteboard because immediately clear. Damn my stubbornness, but I just assumed no one could read red market on the whiteboard. I remember thinking "Shit". This was going to change the game for everything. I started making comments like "Well, I guess I've been living a lie because I haven't been able to see things clearly". I felt like I had to "go back" and redo everything I experienced visually during those 22 years prior to this glasses revelation. Part of me felt cheated. A life not fully lived because things weren't "clear" - literally and figuratively (in the most dreadfully cliche way possible). The Optometrist explained to me that it was nearsightedness and and my mental laundry list of questions started forming. What about all the mountainscapes that I've gazed at/from? What about the ceiling murals in the countless cathedrals that I visited in Europe? If only I had been wearing glasses, these experiences would have been more "clear".

Reflecting on this makes me think about what other types of glasses we have in our lives. The people, things, belief systems, or ideas that change our optics on reality. From both a physical and higher conscious level. Do we have "spiritual glasses"? Additional question to consider on your own or in the comments:

• If we have spiritual glasses, when do we have the moment of realization that we need them?
• Does that moment of realization come early on or do many years go by or do some people never have them at all?
• Who/what is the impetus for this moment of realization?
• How, like standard glasses, do our prescriptions for our spiritual glasses change as we journey (or age) through life?
• Does implying that we need spiritual glasses insinuate that we have some sort of "spiritual defect" that needs correcting? Would that be a bad thing?
• What about "Spiritual Lasik" surgery?
• What would a prescription for spiritual glasses look like?

Welcome

Welcome to the blog for our CLA cohort. Like I said in my email - I was thinking that we could use this space to share with the group  outside of our monthly meetings. It could be a space to share stories, experiences, pictures, art, articles, musing, poems, prayers, reflections, book passages/recommendations, ask questions, or go down any other paths people see fit. This is a private group, so nothing posted on here will be searchable/viewable by anyone outside of this group. I'm excited to continue this journey with all of you. I will continue to add members as they express interest.