Baptism of Fire

“I am baptizing you with water…
He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” (Lk 3:16)

Today I am intrigued by the reference to a baptism not only of water but of fire.  This reminds me of the connection between the Baptism and Pentecost – the Spirit descending in bodily form upon the human person, consecrating us to sonship in the Son.  The phrase ‘baptism of fire’ has come to refer to a difficult beginning, a transition, a struggle that is formative.  I remember one such experience in my life which I would like to share with you today.

During my senior year in college, after two and a half years of on-again-off-again discernment of religious life, quite suddenly I found the monastery and experienced a level of certainty that God was calling me here.  This came about through a recommendation from Margaret, a woman I met while visiting a graduate school as a prospective student.  On the same visit I also met Sister Janice who, together with Sister Diane, Sister Sandra (a novice at the time) and Margaret, had recently opened Sophia House, a house of discernment for women considering a vocation to religious life.  That day in the fall of ’04 was, I now realize, packed with blessings.  I walked back to my dorm room with three keys to the future: I knew the place I wanted to study theology, having experienced the environment of vibrant and supportive Christian community that I was looking for; I felt a growing conviction that Sophia House was the next step for me, since I knew I wanted a more intentional experience of community life than I had as an undergraduate; finally, I had a plan to spend a weekend at a monastery the following February.

I had become aware, in the course of spiritual and vocational searching, that the typical student lifestyle was not challenging me enough in Gospel living.  I spent most of my time studying, attending classes, hanging out with friends, as well as working part time, attending daily Mass and spending time in prayer.  Many aspects of this life were valuable and to be continued, but I felt that somehow not enough was being asked of me in terms of the day-to-day forms of service that one finds in family life.  My roommates and I were close friends, and we regularly ate together, but we didn’t pray together, cook each other’s meals or share the cleaning of our common spaces.  I was looking to be drawn out of myself and my self-sufficient existence by the shared life of prayer and mutual service of an intentional Christian community.  Sophia House fit the bill for me.

It is ironic, though, that in spite of these laudable desires and intentions, I was really clueless about the renunciations – small and great – that community life entails in practice.  From the first days I was irked by meetings, chores, different styles of prayer and a schedule of meals, prayer time and Mass in common that seemed to cramp my style.  In hindsight, it was pretty light duty, with dinner in common only three or four nights a week, evening prayer together and Mass on Saturdays at a nearby parish.  I think part of the problem was that I approached Sophia House not as a final destination but as a way station, and so not with my whole being ready to be consumed, but as something that promised to be a benefit and a convenience for me.  I wanted my independence as well as the benefits of community: I wanted to play loud music, to procrastinate on my chores or default on them altogether, to go to Mass where and when I wanted, to have the personal space for solitude and silence, reading and study to which I was accustomed, undisturbed by others’ demands, but I also wanted to have someone to share my joys with, to go to when I felt down, to enjoy the dinner parties that were a particularly feature of life at Sophia House; I wanted the fellowship, the sharing, the sense of common purpose and belonging, that sense of meaning in life which seems to drain away when all energy is directed to my own projects and desires.  In a word, I wanted to be a consumer of community, but not a creator of it.

Beyond the structural elements of community life, however, lies the inescapable reality of other people.  During my two years in residence at Sophia House, I lived with a total of eight women, some for shorter periods of time, from different generations and cultures, with different kinds of religious formation, upbringing, life experience and expectations.  I had clear preferences and antipathies, and these as well as other less desirable elements of my character were manifested by the situation.  I remember one occasion when a community member arrived home with a guest.  Rather unwilling to be disturbed, I came halfway down the staircase from my room, said “Hello,” and then retreated.  A little later, another community member arrived and, delighted to see her, I bounded down the stairs to embrace her.  Our guest commented wryly, “What a difference in reception!”  Some other unforgettable truth-telling came through the women I lived with.  One woman would get home from work late in the evening, tired but looking for someone to talk to about her day.  I liked to sit in the living room and read; I didn’t want to talk.  One evening I heard her car pull in and the thought came to me, “Maybe I’ll go upstairs and avoid her.”  Thanks be to God, I found enough integrity not to give in to that suggestion, but in the course of our conversation my lack of enthusiasm was evident enough for her to remark, very forthrightly as was her way, “I don’t think you like talking to me, do you?”  Another community member once told me I was too self-sufficient to be a good friend.  Needless to say, that hurt, and while knowledge of her own troubles has allowed me to take it with a grain of salt, there is no denying the grain of truth there.

With one community member I experienced a strong aversion which I struggled with for the duration of her time there.  I could not justify my feelings by any wrongdoing on her part; she just irritated me.  My effort in this case was focused on not letting my feelings be expressed in my behavior toward her, and in an extra effort to be friendly: never an easy thing.  In other situations my feelings were clearly manifested.  More than once I repaid a kind offer of a ride to school with stony silence all the way there; I was just in a bad mood!  One time I picked up the newspaper from the sidewalk and threw it at the front door, hitting a community member in the leg and causing her to jump up in surprise.  It wasn’t my intention to be so direct in my aggression, but the inner fire found a way out.  Another time my pent-up frustration with the group planning required for a big dinner party exploded when someone had the temerity to rearrange the silverware after I had laid it out!

All of this may sound like a rather negative litany of experiences at Sophia House, but I believe they express an important fruit of community life: self-knowledge.  This was exactly the kind of challenge I needed and had asked for, although it wasn’t what I felt I wanted at the time.  And for all the frankness that was sometimes manifested among us, there was also great discretion, especially among the senior members, Sisters Janice and Diane, for which I am extremely grateful.  Their willingness to open their house and their hearts to young women with little or no formation in community living, and their patience with the inevitable ups and downs, periodic faux-pas and occasional tantrums was admirable.  Never once was I scolded or corrected in a discouraging way.  They could have said, “Couldn’t you turn down the music?  Couldn’t you clean the bathroom more often?  Since you don’t do the shopping, couldn’t you at least help put the groceries away?  Couldn’t you at least pretend to enjoy putting up Christmas decorations?”  But they didn’t.  Instead, they left those things in the hands of God until I would be ready for them, loved me for who I was and affirmed the growth they saw in me.  A particular moment of grace occurred not long before I was to leave Sophia House.  We had baked a coffee cake for one member’s birthday, and I was icing it (cake decoration, party games and Halloween costumes were my particular contribution to the community).  I spread coffee icing on top and added a design of chocolate-covered coffee beans.  Someone who was watching told me I should ice the sides as well.  Then she went right ahead, took the spatula, and started to do it herself.  As I watched her, the thought came to me, “She’s right, it looks better than way.”  Unbeknownst to me, Sister Diane witnessed this and told Sister Janice, who later said to me, “We were amazed at your response.  You’ve really grown.”

When we think of community, it would be easy to focus only of the moments of shared intimacy, of prayer and entertainment and fun.  But I am glad to reflect on the difficulties and the growth that community fosters, not without cost, but with wonderful fruits.  I am so grateful to Janice, Diane, Sandra, Margaret, Sonia, Catherine, Agnes and Lizbeth — for their loving forbearance and for all they allowed me to learn from them.  Needless to say, the journey of self-discovery goes on for me, and I find plenty of opportunities for selfishness and irritability to be manifested in my present situation.  Thankfully, I find myself in an atmosphere of kindness and discretion, much like that at Sophia House, and for all the tensions and conflicts among us, at our best we find ways to forgive one another and move on, to give each other room to grow.  This makes me grateful for the gift of community life, even though it may feel at times like a baptism of fire!

Image: Baptism of Christ by Julia Stankova