2012 Seniors Speak

The following articles were written by Laura Kuhlman.

November 16 , 2011
Scaling the Scala Santa: The Theology of the Body

I kneel down on the hard and uneven wooden stair.  The grooves and crevices of the wood squeeze and taunt my kneecaps.  The pain shoots up through my thighs; my muscles begin to tremble.  I crawl up to the next step, my teeth clenched.

“Ave Maria, piena di grazia, il Signore è con te. Tu sei benedetta fra le donne e benedetto è il frutto del tuo seno, Gesú…”  The words of Our Lady’s prayer fall from the lips of the pilgrims behind me on to the beads clenched in their hands. 

There are twenty eight stairs in all at the Scala Santa, the steps that led up to the praetorium of Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem.  The stairs were, reputedly, brought to Rome by St. Helena in the 4th Century.  This is the place where Pilate, after having Jesus scourged, said to the Jews, “Behold, your king!” The words that fell upon the ears of Pilate and our Lord alike were “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!” (Jn 19:14-15).

Next Step: I lean forward, grip the edge of the stair and utter a prayer, a sacrifice, a word to Our Lord: Jesus I unite myself to you.  Jesus I unite myself to you.  Jesus I unite myself to you…  Today the Holy Stairs are climbed by Christian pilgrims on their knees who wish to honor the Passion of Jesus.

The group of pilgrims from the Theology of the Body Symposium I’m with passes in front of me.  I see the fresco on the back wall at the top of the holy stairs: Mary and John at the foot of the cross.  Lord, give me strength…

I’m the last one, but I’m almost to the top.  I’m gritting my teeth to muster strength.  I feel as if the words of Eden “I will put enmity between you and the woman…” and the curse of the forbidden fruit had overcome my body (Gen 3:15).

The scurrying of a little Italian boy, about nine or ten years old, up along my right side draws my attention.  I look over to see a shining, excited smile on his face.  Leaning down, he finds the small glass window at the top of the last stair.  Below this glass is the actual place where Christ would have stepped.  One, two, three… ten kisses he gives to this sacred window.  He bounces up to the top, his face filled with joy.  Suffering becomes joy in the Resurrection.

Our earthly life is a battle.  The pain I felt in my knees in every step bears testimony to the concupiscence of the flesh, the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life I inherited after Adam and Eve’s fall. I have also been redeemed by Christ’s Resurrection; this makes me a woman of the call of God. In the words of our Blessed John Paul II: “…Even though man…remains naturally the "man of concupiscence," he is at the same time the man who has been "called." He is called through the mystery of the redemption of the body, a divine mystery, which at the same time is—in Christ and through Christ in every man—a human reality” (Wednesday Audience 9 Feb [1983]).  

The Scala Santa bears the sufferings of Christ’s Passion, yet those Holy Stairs become also my joyful flight to Heaven.  That little Italian boy, full of kisses for Our Lord shows me that the battle with concupiscence is a looking forward to the Resurrection, not a return to Eden.

October 25, 2011
The Heart of a Mother

Life is full of opportunities, and growing up in the midst of a big family, you see your siblings go through many of them.  For Maggie Frommling, watching her brother Joseph go to the apostolic school lit a spark in her heart.  I’m a firm believer that God often uses others’ examples to inspire our own, and even though Joe eventually decided that the apostolic school wasn’t for him, it gave Maggie the impetus to pursue the “girls’ school” on her own. But God was writing more than just Maggie’s story in the year of 2006. 

In January of ‘06, Maggie’s mom was diagnosed with cancer. 

“It was a tough time for my whole family, so I knew that I couldn’t ask my parents to give up anything else at that moment.  I was surprised, though, when one afternoon I walked into my mom’s bedroom and she looked up at me and said ‘I don’t ever want to get in the way of you following God’s will.’  My mom really has a ton of faith.”  Mothers are brave.

Maggie first started experiencing that special spark in her heart when she was at the Beatification of Jose Luis Sanchez del Rio in Mexico in 2006 with her sister Julian and a group of ECYD friends. 

“That was the first time I got to meet the ‘PC’s’.  We had a “vocations panel” one night and I still remember what one of them said about God’s call: “If the question is in your heart, and it won’t go away, you at least need to give it a try.” 

Looking back on God’s action in her life, these words seemed to be an echo from another past experience. 

“I was at an ECYD convention in Oxford, Michigan when I was about 12 years old, and I remember standing outside around the front circle where there’s a statue of Mary. One of the team leaders at the convention was telling us about vocations—not necessarily the religious kind, but vocation in the broader sense… like God’s plan for my life—the type of vocation that means happiness.  She said something that really stuck with me.  ‘Do you see how Our Lady is standing on top of the serpent?’ she asked us, ‘Well, if you place your vocation in Our Lady’s hands, the devil can’t ever get it.’” Mothers are protectors.

The experience of placing her life in Our Lady’s hands seems to repeat itself throughout Maggie’s journey toward consecrated life. 

“At the PC, we would have a special procession on the feast of the Assumption to honor Mary.  This time, instead of just asking Our Lady to protect my vocation from the devil, I asked her to take it up to Jesus in Heaven.  And the next time I placed myself in Our Lady’s hands was at Lourdes when I went on a pilgrimage in 12th grade.  Peace came at Lourdes.”  Mothers are peacemakers. 

Maggie’s mom was cured of cancer in 2008.  Later on, Maggie found out that it wasn’t just her mom who had suffered through this time of trial with “a ton of faith.”  Her dad too had his moments with God. 

“One day, Fr. Matthew was talking with my dad in his office and he asked him, ‘Why are you letting Maggie go to ICA if it was so hard for you to let go of Joe?’  I bet Fr. Matthew wasn’t expecting the reply he got: ‘I told God that as long as he saved my wife, I would give him any one of my kids.’”   

In 2011, I watched as Maggie’s big family brought up the gifts at the offertory the day before the Feast of the Assumption, the day that Maggie was consecrated to God. 

“How did I know? If the question is in your heart and it won’t go away, you at least need to give it a try.  I found it in my heart.”