During one of my morning visits to the Catholic Television Network of Youngstown (CTNY) production set, I heard Father George Balasko talk about how Jesus is the incarnation of the Torah. For him, this idea became tangible when he was reading the Scriptures printed on animal skin—the Word made flesh. During my own experience this summer and my writing internship with the Ursuline Sisters, I’ve seen words take on a new life.
I had the chance to collaborate with CTNY, working in a new medium: visual media. My current project is to write a script for a ten-minute video for the upcoming Year of Consecrated Life, looking back on the history of religious life in this country and looking ahead towards its future. As I began drafting a script, Father Jim Korda, Pastoral Director, told me that writing for TV is different than writing for print publication. You have to be attuned to the way the words sound, and you also have to think about how the words will be represented visually. The words aren’t only letters on a page but images that will come to life on the screen.
I’ve also come to understand the power of words and story in my work with Vocation Stories, a series which features the ministries and call to religious life of members in the Youngstown Ursuline community. When I met with Sister Julia to interview her in her room, I set the tape recorder between us, asking an occasional question to prompt her. Her stories spanned the front and back of a cassette tape, and I sat and listened as she recalled her years as a teacher and later as a pastoral minister. Occasionally, she’d look over at me, but she spent most of the interview with her eyes closed, focused intently on her life’s story, and I shared in the presence of those memories. At the end of the interview, she thanked me for giving her the chance to reminisce and also for my patience in listening.
I’ve also come to understand the power of words and story in my work with Vocation Stories, a series which features the ministries and call to religious life of members in the Youngstown Ursuline community. When I met with Sister Julia to interview her in her room, I set the tape recorder between us, asking an occasional question to prompt her. Her stories spanned the front and back of a cassette tape, and I sat and listened as she recalled her years as a teacher and later as a pastoral minister. Occasionally, she’d look over at me, but she spent most of the interview with her eyes closed, focused intently on her life’s story, and I shared in the presence of those memories. At the end of the interview, she thanked me for giving her the chance to reminisce and also for my patience in listening.
I had a surprise encounter with a poet at the installation of the new Ursuline leadership team. At the lunch that followed the mass, I met a man in his eighties who sat across the table from me. As he put it, his memory wasn’t bad, just short, and our conversation circled over the same topics. “I bet the girls would like to hear one of your poems,” his friend, an Ursuline Associate, said. The man looked at us and began, entering into a new world. There was energy and control in his voice as he recited poetry about his faith and his relationship with God. He told me that he’d been writing poems since he was a child, and he continued to write during his years in the service. As his friend commented, he recites his poetry with the same spirit that had inspired it.
About a year ago, Sister Darla shared a book with me called Following the Path, which was about discerning a vocation. I connected with the writer’s journey to cultivate her identity as a writer and deepen her spirituality. During my visit to the Benedictine monastery in Erie this month, I had the opportunity to meet the author, Joan Chittister, who is a sister in that community. As we spoke, I experienced the same engagement that I had with her written word, now with her in person. She tapped her hands against my elbows for emphasis, centering my attention and all of my self on the conversation between us. As she explained that writing comes from the heart, she held out her finger and tapped the middle of my chest. She spoke with her body, and I listened the same way. As we parted ways, she told me, “There’s something in your eyes that I like. I am going to pray for you.” I left the monastery smiling.
About a year ago, Sister Darla shared a book with me called Following the Path, which was about discerning a vocation. I connected with the writer’s journey to cultivate her identity as a writer and deepen her spirituality. During my visit to the Benedictine monastery in Erie this month, I had the opportunity to meet the author, Joan Chittister, who is a sister in that community. As we spoke, I experienced the same engagement that I had with her written word, now with her in person. She tapped her hands against my elbows for emphasis, centering my attention and all of my self on the conversation between us. As she explained that writing comes from the heart, she held out her finger and tapped the middle of my chest. She spoke with her body, and I listened the same way. As we parted ways, she told me, “There’s something in your eyes that I like. I am going to pray for you.” I left the monastery smiling.