Cheryl-Ann Smith

The young man wanted to live a holy life. The key, he knew, was prayer. So he approached a wise elder in the monastery and asked for instruction. The old man said not a word but looked intently into his eyes. Then, still silent, he walked him down to the river, and they waded in. The elder put his old gnarled hand on the young seeker’s head, and pushed him into the water.

Poustinia is a household word now, with variations available all over the globe. That was not the case before Catherine Doherty, a Russian refugee, settled in Canada and eventually founded the Madonna House Apostolate.

There are times when life changes dramatically. Sometimes it’s organic and expected, for example in the teenage years, midlife, older age. These transitions can be frightening in their seismic shifts, but we cannot stand still or atrophy, and grace awaits us in each stage.

It is a scene of devastation, love and hope. A scene from the movie The Soloist somehow reveals the stunning beauty and tenderness of the Heart of God.

The woman had come to the end. She had barely escaped from her country with her life, and was reeling from the profound rejection of her people. Miraculously, she and her husband had made their way to Canada, but he compounded the rejection through constant infidelities.

One of my favourite Christmas cards is of the infant Christ reaching up from His cradle to cradle the face of a donkey. The look of mutual wonder and delight is suffused with light and love. It sounds kitsch, I know, but in truth it cuts to the heart of the Incarnation, and expresses a profound theological reality.

Hope. Is there anything this world needs more? With violence, atrocities and natural disasters filling the news every day, it sometimes feels hopeless and unbearable.

"Yea though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." This line from the Book of Job was the response of Rabbi Abraham Heschel to the question, “How can you possibly believe in God after six million of your people were slaughtered in the holocaust?!” The tears streaming down Rabbi Heschel's face spoke of his anguish over this evil, and perhaps his anguish in not understanding why God allowed it.

Standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon in Arizona is an extraordinary experience. It’s not just the stunning beauty, It’s also the silence. You can hear the chatter of tourists behind you, but in front is a palpable silence, replete with Divine Presence.