Pandemic helped new religious learn to walk with Christ

“No storm can shake my inmost calm While to that refuge clinging Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth  How can I keep from singing? — from “How Can I Keep From Singing?”

These familiar lyrics have sung in my heart since I first heard this hymn a few years ago. “How Can I Keep From Singing” is a song about hope — a theological virtue and gift of the Holy Spirit that keeps us looking up, with “our eyes fixed on Jesus” (Heb 12:2).

On Sept. 8, 2020, I offered my life to Jesus, who is our Hope, by the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Within St. Peter the Apostle Church in New Brunswick that day, COVID-19 was still a reality. Most pews were empty and masks were worn. Disappointment could have weighed me down, as it can easily take hold of us in this pandemic, but something greater lifted my spirit — hope in Christ and His unchanging love.

Throughout my three years of initial formation with the Sisters of Jesus Our Hope, the biggest lessons that best prepared me for a worldwide pandemic were obedience to God’s will and living in hope. When I entered as a postulant, I stepped into a new way of life in this religious community. My schedule was set for me yet could change at a moment’s notice depending on the needs of the day. I had to learn (and continue to learn) to enter each day anew, to receive what God had planned for me, and not cling to my own expectations.

March 2020 came, and our convent became more like a cloister to the outside world. We embraced what God allowed, even when we were stretched in the process. With an openness to His will, supported by our charism of hope, this time was still filled with much joy and peace because we were meeting God in the “here-and-now,” not the “could-have” or “should-have-been.”

Almost one year later, I am now serving full-time in our apostolate, and those of us in the mission convent have had to grow in flexibility. Multiple stretches of quarantine were not in this year’s plans, especially not spending 14 days in our individual rooms after direct exposure to the virus. In those two weeks, in fact, throughout this entire year, I found I could either become frustrated by these constraints, or accept them as God’s will for me.

The hymn continues: “What though my joys and comforts die? I know my Savior liveth. What though the darkness gather round? Songs in the night he giveth.” I took advantage of the silence and solitude and heeded Jesus’ words, “When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret” (Mt 6:6). Grace abounded in these quiet moments with God. This was how He wanted me to encounter Him. This was where He wanted to come to me, in the reality of what He allowed.

In all of the struggle and difficulty that the pandemic brings, I am learning to walk through it all with Christ, my Hope. Hope is not an optimistic way of viewing life and finding the silver lining in COVID. Nor is it a consoling thought that says, “Things will return to normal eventually.” Hope is a Person who says, “I will step into your suffering and embrace it with you.” I can affirm that suffering does not disappear with Jesus, but He gives it meaning, and even strength to endure it because He is risen, living, and victorious. “The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart. A fountain ever springing. All things are mine since I am his. How can I keep from singing?”