Column Spinners weave wisdom ways
By RICH HEFFERN
The more things change the more they
stay the same. Early in the last millennium there took place in Europe what
historian of spirituality Richard Woods called a mystical
revolution. In many ways this spiritual renewal in the 12th and 13th
centuries was a distant mirror of whats happening today.
Prior centuries had seen the rise of convents and monasteries,
those great Benedictine, Augustinian and Carthusian institutions that preserved
learning after the Roman Empires collapse. They offered new ways of
living together, providing written rules that organized and shaped
the nun or monks life. By the High Middle Ages, however, monastic
institutions and convents became largely unavailable to non-aristocrats.
By the 12th century there was much ferment and unrest as feudalism
passed and the rise of the middle class and an increase in urban populations
occurred. These were times of institutional decadence, social breakdown and an
abrupt widening of the rift between haves and have-nots. Males were in short
supply because of the crusades. Clerical celibacy had just been introduced.
Women had limited choices: either marriage or convents with pricey entry fees.
Swings in climate brought on crop failures and famines. Radical, apocalyptic
religious ideas and cults flourished.
While a period of colliding energies and conflicting concerns, it
was also a time of hope and creativity. Spiritual seekers, disenchanted with
both corrupt religious institutions and radical cults of the day, turned within
to their own experience for guidance. This searching bore fruit. It led to the
rise of the mendicant orders, the Dominicans and Franciscans. Also a widespread
lay movement of working-class women emerged. These women were called Beguines.
The word is thought to come from an old word that referred to one who rattles
off prayers. Profoundly religious, yet neither nuns nor recluses, they chose to
live in the world according to a simple gospel spirituality. They embraced a
life of poverty, prayer and service to the poor, often managing shelters for
women and children.
Many Beguines supported themselves with handwork, particularly
weaving, spinning and sewing. Traces of this movement live on in our term
spinster applied to older, unmarried women. These medieval women finally
formed communities known as beguinages, some of which still survive
in Belgium and Holland.
Beguines played a key role in the return of the feminine face of
the divine to Western religion, in democratizing the church and in devising new
devotions and pieties for the common folk. Our current feast of Corpus Christi
was inaugurated by the Beguines, reflecting their devotion to the humanity of
Christ, a reaction to clerical excesses and to flesh-hating heresies that
focused solely on Jesus divinity.
Though they had an uneasy relationship with ecclesial power, a
cleric of the time, Caesarius of Heisterbach, said of the Beguines: In
the midst of noise and confusion, they lead serene lives. Together these
women accomplished a quantum leap forward in spirituality. They found new ways
to understand God present within creation, building sturdy bridges between the
inner life and the outer. They faced the challenges of their anguished world
and moved it forward out of chaos and loss of meaning to new vitality. They
brought the gospel to life in their time.
It comes around again. Recently I got a flyer promoting a
conference on ecology and spirituality planned for June in Louisville, Ky. On
the right margin was a list of co-sponsors, a long litany of new communities
that have arisen in the last two decades: The Franciscan Earth Literacy Center,
Genesis Farm, Sisters of the Earth Community and Crystal Spring Center for
Ecology, Spirituality and Earth Education, to name a few. At least 40 more
womens communities were listed as co-sponsors.
Again women lead the way in inventing new ways of living faith and
being religious community. These new communities are notable for their holistic
focus, integrating the life of the spirit, the life of the body and the life of
the Earth around us in a seamless way. This holism is a kind of
rule, as what was once split asunder in our theology and culture is
now woven back together by these busy spinners.
The Dominican Sisters of Great Bend, Kan., for example, built a
diverse community on the high plains that combines traditional religious
community with innovative enterprises and outreach. Their mission statement
mandates that they bring the gospel to life in mid-America. So in the heart of
wheat country, they offer a holistic health center that provides massage, reiki
and reflexology therapies, with a staff trained in alternative healing. Their
center for spirituality offers workshops on prayer and directed retreats.
The community purchased an 80-acre parcel of land in 1987 to make
a statement about their concern for small farmers and for ecology. The farm
community that works the Heartland Farm includes a Mennonite couple and their
children (who have grown from infancy to adulthood on the land), and three
Dominican sisters. Interns come to learn organic farming techniques. The farm
has been certified organic since 1994. Twenty acres are planted in alfalfa,
which is sold to local farmers for feed. A large vegetable garden supplies the
community and the nearby motherhouse. Recently an energy-efficient hermitage
was built from straw bales for retreatants who come to the farm for solitude
and prayer.
In Cincinnati, Paula Gonzalez, a Sister of Charity inspired by the
first Earth Day in 1970, began a project known as La Casa del Sol, a
1,500-quare-foot house that stands as a model for recycling and energy
efficiency. Using an old chicken coop as a base, the timber-framed house was
put up in a few days like an old-fashioned barn raising. Gonzalez and another
sister moved in. Their brainchild is EarthConnection, a center for learning and
reflection about living lightly on Earth, home for tours, programs, internships
and retreats. Gonzalez also raises money by doing what she calls
above-ground mining, inviting people to search attics and garages
for useful materials for construction, furnishing new projects and for
fund-raising sales. Sr. Paula says her spirituality is grounded in her garden,
where, in the growing season, she daily experiences the miracle that is
the universe.
In Roeland Park, Kan., Carol Meyer works out of her home as a
massage therapist and spiritual director. She publishes a small newsletter
titled Wisdom Ways circulated by mail and Internet to local spiritual
seekers. The newsletter is filled with tips on simplifying, finding peace or
the consolations of a heart on fire in the midst of a busy urban life. A spare
bedroom has become a meditation room featuring a small waterfall, incense
burners and up-to-date icons lit by flickering candles. Meyers business
flourishes.
In Vermont, Sr. Gail Worcelo and lay associate Bernadette
Bostwick, together with their community of Passionist nuns, are starting an
Ecozoic Monastery in the Green mountains. They hope to soon found the first
Catholic community of nuns in the world dedicated to healing the Earth.
This is just a tiny sampling of the innovative communities and
enterprises taking shape around the country. Like the Beguines in their time,
these women foster new devotions honoring the Earth as Gods body and
offer to others places of sanctuary, retreat and healing. In the midst of
confusion, they lead serene lives. They bring both Jesus gospel and the
lost gospel of the Earth to life.
Rich Heffern is the former editor of Praying magazine
and a staff member of NCR. His e-mail address is
rheffern@natcath.org
National Catholic Reporter, March 16,
2001
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