Loss leads to love
By Sister Marie Jose Romano, OSF
Special to the Herald
To be called to religious life is a blessing. It is a life filled with joy in serving, a life that is self-giving and compassionate, a life of loving God and others; but the reality of our human nature and imperfections add to the difficulties and challenges of everyday living. As in every other calling, it is not always easy going through the grind of our daily routine. Life has its ups and downs, mountains and valleys, trials and temptations, disappointments and failures. There are obstacles to cross, rocks that cause us to trip and fall, and a lot of giving and taking, of keeping in control for the sake of peace. Whatever the situation may be, large or small, we know that if we endure and die to self, we will rise to renewed life in Christ.
Looking back over the years, I always tried to hold on to what is most important in life. I fell in love with Jesus in grade school and attended daily Mass to encounter him in the Eucharist. This continued through high school. Then, as a young newly professed religious, I was so filled with love and joy that I said to one of our elderly sisters, “I could just die now and go straight to heaven.” She turned to me and with great wisdom replied, “My dear, your journey has just begun and it won’t be easy. Just keep your focus on Christ.”
In my own life, hardship was not absent, and, at times, God seemed very distant. I come from a family of eight children, four boys and four girls, and was one of the youngest. My dad, whom I dearly loved, passed away when I was in high school. My brothers decided to take on the role of being my guardian and protector to the delight of my mom. They checked up on me, making sure that nothing or anyone would harm me. They were my personal bodyguards! For a high school student who was having fun, this was not something I necessarily looked forward to. It frequently became a cause of embarrassment especially when, out of nowhere, they would appear when I was out with my friends. Yet I loved them and knew they were only trying to take care of me.
Double tragedy
Losing any one of them would have been a great loss, but losing two of them in the same year was tragic. Just before the fall of Saigon, my oldest brother Felix, who was working in Vietnam under a military contract, was found dead in his hotel room. We found out later he was beaten and died from his injuries. This was hard news for the family, especially for mom, but we traveled to Fairfield, California, where his body was being shipped to be with his family. The tragic circumstances of his death left me with many questions that needed to be answered.
Then six months later, we received news that my brother Albert had died. As children he was my favorite brother. He would give me rides on the handlebars of his bike, and when I played football with the boys, he would throw the ball to me to score a touchdown. I would always follow his lead in playing “Follow the Leader.” Now he was gone, and I was shocked into depression. Again, mom and I traveled to California, this time to Los Angeles. He died in the General Hospital in Los Angeles and the cause was unclear. Then I really questioned God. “Why, why did this happen?” “Why did you do this?” “Why did you let it happen?” It seemed as if God did not react, that he was silent to evil. But remembering the words of years ago, “It won’t be easy, just focus on Christ,” God did answer. His answer was the cross of Christ, which is love, mercy and forgiveness. Putting my trust in God, I felt loved by him. God is my strength and my hope!
Loss can lead to God
Suffering, tragedy and loss can lead to God. Even though we may not be aware of the changes that take place in our lives, all that we endure keep molding and forming us, bringing us closer to God. His presence is near. His closeness is tangibly felt. An incident when I was on a private retreat in Assisi, Italy, brought this to life. Outside the gates of Assisi near the basilica of St. Clare is Mt. Subasio. St. Francis and his followers used to spend time on the mountain, walking its paths, praying in retreat, and praising God in “Laudato Si.”
That day I wanted to go up the mountain to pray and try to relive the experiences of St. Francis, but I had no transportation. Coming out of St. Clare’s basilica were two Franciscan sisters in the brown habit heading toward their parked car. In broken Italian and gesturing with my hands, I tried to communicate with them. One of them said to me in perfect English, “Are you asking for a ride up the mountain?” They were American Franciscans stationed in Assisi. They could give me a ride the four miles up the mountain but would not be able to wait for me since they had errands to finish. I happily accepted their offer.
Mass on a mountain
The mountain was beautiful and conducive to prayer. I found an open chapel with the Blessed Sacrament exposed. After spending a while in prayer I started walking pathways lined with beautiful trees and greenery and noticed rocks that were hollowed out like small caves. With all this quiet beauty, I felt at peace. Up ahead was a clearing where a makeshift altar, a huge flat rock, was being prepared for Mass. A small group from northern Italy was on retreat. How wonderful, I thought, to attend Mass on this mountain! I stood alone on the opposite end of the rock to be unnoticed. The Mass began. Then it happened.
Loud, booming thunder vibrated through the mountain. Rain! It was coming down in huge pellets. I was unprotected but kept my focus on Christ on the altar, and a wonderful thing was happening: I was not getting wet! I was aware of the rain falling all around me, but I felt warm, comforted and enveloped in love. After the Mass’s final blessing, I felt the rain and ran for cover in one of the cave-like rocks. What an exhilarating, joyful and loving experience! God was with me, protecting, comforting and loving me.
The newly professed of years ago would surely have gone to heaven, but the wounds and battle scars over the years shine ever more brightly in a life given to God in service and love. I have learned through the years to trust in God. He will always provide and be with me. The more I endure and freely give of myself, the more I receive of his presence and love. God is never outdone in generosity. His reward for a life given to him is great; the hundredfold is there. In dying to self, I have risen to new life and one day will be transformed into oneness in Christ.
Sister Marie Jose Romano is a Sister of St Francis of the Neumann Communities living in St. Clare Convent in Ewa Beach.
