deutsch slang

Dies ist meine neue lieblings Phrase...

Es ist mir wurst

its means..."I couldn't care less" or "It doesn't matter to me"

but literally...it means "It's sausage to me!"

oh Austrians/Germans and their sausage!

temporary address...

ok

so here is the temporary address I can give you all...

but don't send anything here past the first week in February!

Monika Haas

Attn: Marylouise McGraw

Alliiertenstrasse 10

1020 Wien, Osterreich

Europe

love.

Even your shoes...

At breakfast yesterday morning Alina and I were talking about praying, especially in adoration, and having so much trouble really being present in prayer since there are so many things and people on our minds. It really is so hard to trust God with EVERYTHING, not only spiritual things, but material things as well, especially those that are in your control and that you think it is good for you to worry about (cough cough…our apartment…cough cough) Really, in the end the control you think you have over all these things and the thoughts that are running through your head really weigh you down and they keep you from being completely surrendered to trusting in God for EVERYTHING and truly being present in prayer and working on your relationship with God.  Talking about all of this, Alina shared with me something she had read the night before in a book by Catherine de Hueck (if you don’t know who she is, look her up…her story is amazing!) and I want to share the beautiful image with you. Anyone, who like me, has a lot of trouble surrendering everything to God and completely trusting in Him with spiritual and material things alike, will hopefully benefit from this…

Catherine describes herself climbing in the mountains. She is equipped with all the necessary climbing gear and many layers of clothing as she is high in the mountains where it is cold. But as she continues to climb, she feels so weighed down by all that she is wearing and carrying and she must start taking things off and leaving things behind in order to continue the climb. First her jacket, gloves and hat, then her vest, then her backpack…so on and so forth…and with each layer she feels a little more of the cold, but at least she can still continue to climb.  Without leaving these things behind, she would have to stop her climb because the weight was too much for her. She continues to take off layer upon layer, and leave behind belonging after belonging until she is left with only her shoes on her feet! Yet, she reaches a point in which she sees the summit but she cannot go any further; her shoes are too heavy. Of course, she doesn’t want to take them off…the mountain is rocky and ridden with crags, not to mention she will get into the snowy part of the peak soon. Her shoes are made for hiking and climbing; they are of good quality and cost a pretty penny. She doesn’t understand why they are hindering her so much if this is what they were made for! She knows she cannot continue with the shoes on, for she cannot lift her foot to take another step, but she also doesn’t understand how she can continue without the shoes with the climb that still lay ahead of her. And she has already given up everything else; she is already completely naked! While she struggles greatly with this decision, she knows that she cannot turn back—she must reach the summit. So, with no other option, she takes off her shoes, and as she cautiously takes the next step…she begins to fly.

beautiful, right?

well, you’ll never believe what happened later that afternoon!

After breakfast, Alina and I had different schedules of things to do and meetings with different friends in the city, so we parted ways for the afternoon and evening. When she arrived home later that night, of course I asked her how she was and how her day was, to which she just looked at me with a smirk and said…”Ich habe keine Schuhe.” (Translation: I have no shoes”) I looked down and indeed the shoes she was wearing were not her own. Her FAVORITE shoes had been stolen at the swimming pool she had taken some children to that afternoon.

...and no…she didn’t get to fly home.

Update on the apartment:

Apartment: We are still living with Monika but we have the key to the apartment. Through the amazing generosity of people we both know and don’t know at all we have already been given…silverware and kitchen utensils, a bed, a mini couch thing, a loveseat, a chair, a kitchen table, a few bed linens and towels, plates, mugs, classes, and even two vases! Oh and, a darling old lady has befriended us at the church we go to for 8am mass on MWF. The other day we were leaving the church, and ran into her bringing in a large, old painting of Mary and the Child Jesus. Really a beautiful painting although it has some gauges and scrapes so it definitely isn’t in great condition. She found it next to someone’s garbage cans on the street as she was walking to mass, so she picked it up and brought it to the church to see if they wanted it. We carried it for her to the church secretary who said she had no space for the painting and it was in bad condition, so our friend gave it to us! Yes, its not in the best condition, but it definitely has potential so we have given Mary and Jesus a home! We will get to cleaning tomorrow or the beginning of next week…we have so much to do, especially considering the very clean standard we have to meet of the Austrian people we are living amongst and will invite to our apartment. The kitchen and bathroom still need to be renovated (we’re not sure what that consists of or who is going to do it), but we are hoping we can get everything else cleaned up. It’s a little overwhelming, so keep us in your prayers 

wifi

I'm babysitting a little 9-year-old girl named Jessica tonight.

She is the only child of polish immigrant parents, Irena and Slavomir.

They don't know me, they barely speak english, and I got lost getting to their house in the 11th district of the city (i live in the 2nd). Yet, as soon as I got to their house they were the nicest, most welcoming people with whom I became instant friends.

So while they are out for a night of dancing with their friends in the city, 

I am hanging out in their apartment using their wireless internet. im spoiled. 

and now, i can upload all the pictures and videos from my ipod! 

Our current life: Monika's Apartment

(our bedroom, and then the kitchen)

rather swollen, ja?

The new Offenez Herz from the outside (the right four windows on the 2nd floor)

This is Maria-Langegg...the cloister in the foothills of the alps where we had our silent retreat the first weekend

And videos from christmas carols at Maria-Elizabeth's house:

"the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it"

Yesterday we had a beautiful visit in the 11th district of the city with an Eritrian/Ethiopian woman named Aberu and her four boys. Aberu is a recent friend of Christa so Alina and I joined Christa to go visit Aberu, bringing Klara, Jakob, George, and Martin along for the playdate. We spent four hours visiting and playing, but the time flew! The oldest, 10-year-old Nohrum, is a talented pianist although he has only been playing for a year and a half. His talent is remarkable and he graciously played for us after we begged him several times to share his talent. The other boys are 7-year-old Lucas, 5-year-old Abeneezar, and 2-year-old Alexaner. They are all so precious and while Christa, Alina, Aberu, and I sat in the living room drinking coffee and getting to know one another, the kids warmed up to one another quickly and went to the boys bedroom to play. Eventually, we got bored just talking while we heard laughter and screams of joy coming from the other room...so we decided to go join and play with the kids. We played animal charades (a little difficult in Deutsch considering I haven't been studying my animal names...but the kids had pity on me), 'Down by the banks' also in German, and finally I got to teach them an american game...Duck, Duck, GOOSE! (it was quite an experience trying to explain this game to the kids considering my limited Deutsch, but Christa was a wonderful help with translating, and in the end, although I don't think we were actually saying the Deutsch equivalents of "duck" and "goose" it managed to have everyone laughing and enjoying themselves. 

And when I say everyone, I mean everyone...Aberu and Christa with the baby were also playing Duck, Duck, Goose and the other games! To see Aberu act out a frog in animal charades was hilarious! But it really taught me how wrapped up in being older and responsible and 'adultlike' we can get and forget that it is even possible to get on the ground and play these games with the kids...and get as much enjoyment out of them as the kids are! Yes, its a little easier for me in my 20's to spend hours playing with the children, being interested in all they are interested in and forming friendships with them, but it was so remarkable to me to see Aberu and Christa play with us without question or hesitation...of course they wanted to be included in the games!! 

Aberu is a beautiful woman and it was so touching to see her take such delight in really being WITH her kids, with us playing with her kids...taking part, watching, laughing, relaxing, and being present as a mother who for a minute had no cares in the world except the delight of her children and this afternoon of making new friends, living these moments of joy with them and with us. For her, it was not an escape...she did not say, "Ok kids, go in the other room and play while the grown-ups talk in here." Once we got acquainted, we found ourselves seeking out the children to partake in the fun they were having...Maybe the games were food for the children's souls, but the playing and laughing with the children and being drowned in their joy was as much nourishment for our souls, especially Aberu's. 

Aberu and her husband moved from Eritria in 1999 during the war in which Eritria fought for its independence from the Ethiopian state. Her being Eritrian and him Ethiopian, they couldn't find refuge in either state. Most of her family was killed in the war and she moved to Austria with only her husband and no other family or support around her. She is alone her in the city, Christa being one of her only friends. At first she was working by cleaning houses for families in the city center, but now with four children and no money for childcare and no family to help her out watching the children so she can go work, she finds herself unable to work. Her relationship with her husband is aweful--he works most of the time and still stays out of the house when he is not at work, then when he gets home late there is always fighting and abuse. She desires so much that he leave her, but at the same time, he pays the rent, so if he leaves, she must make up the rent for their apartment. She is currently on money from the government for being without work, but she only has this money for herself for the next 4 months...once that time passes, she will then only be on the money that the government gives to support the children...500 euro per month...which isn't enough for a family of 4 who live in Vienna, go to school, etc. She has four months to figure out what to do. She tells us all this with pain in her eyes, and stress creeping into her voice. But mingled with the pain, you can see the hope that glimmers...she doesn't break down, dwell on the situation and talk for hours, although that would be totally understandable and we would listen and love her just the same. But no...she describes her situation and moves on not because she wants to forget about it and not talk about it but because she is not given up to despair, the darkness of her situation has not won, nor will it win. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. I tell you this only to put this woman, and all that I told you above about our playing and laughing and all that our visit entailed, in perspective. I hope you can see better the faith and hope she exemplifies. She is truly a remarkable woman, standing strong in the strength God gives her to live moment to moment. She knows she has four beautiful boys to live for. She knows she has something to hope in. There is a delight and joy that she exudes and that completely amazes me. It is merely this presence of joy that shows her bravery. And shows me an example of what it means to live in the moment, to be truly surrendered to the will of God. God have us to her as guests, so she gave us everything she had--all the food, time, talk, energy--not counting to see what she had left for herself but knowing the Lord would provide the food that she gives away, the time she spends just playing and being with us rather than cleaning the house or doing other things she needs to get done, the strength that she needs to continue living in the moment with joy when we leave. She didn't take this time while her kids are occupied with playmates to sleep, to clean, or to do other things...she took this time to be with us...to be with her children. To be happy, not because she is escaping her everyday situation, but because she is truly engaging in it, living the life she is given at that moment with her entire self, leaving her worries to God whom she trusts with all she is and all she has. 

We went to be a presence to her, but there is still so much we need to learn about truly being present. In the end, it was very clear that God sent us there to learn. In fact, as much as I want to say I am going to be here selflessly helping people and changing peoples lives for 14 months...really I have an inkling that while striving to do that, I'm going to be the one learning the most. 

....Fr. Thierry, the founder of Heart's Home, already knew that though when he sent us here to open the new house. His other name for Heart's Home is "The Kindergarten of Love" ...

At the Kindergarten of Love
Third letter to the Missionaries from Rev. Fr. Thierry de Roucy
― April 1991 ―

Dear Missionaries,

Most of you have decided
to start the journey
with Heart’s Home right after your studies.

You knew almost everything
and many of your friends would boast to know as much.

You learned about physics or mathematics,
philosophy or chemistry, literature or medicine

and your diplomas mark the successful conclusion of so much science and reason.

But as you arrived in your palaces,
you discovered soon that everything had to be learned.

One can be very good at astrology or in strategy
and only be a kindergartener as far as the essential is concerned.

One develops one’s brain,
ones muscles, one’s authority on others.

Poor ones! One has forgotten to develop one’s heart.

And in a being full of brain
or of muscles or of sensuality,

our heart is lost and reduced to dust!

Despite the thousands of governmental reforms,

there is no PhD in Heart Science,

no one who teaches about how to love one another.

No wonder there are so many divorces,
that we kill each other and hate each other,
that we rob and lie to each other:

for many of us love remains Morse code!

Luckily your family or your friends

or the example of a priest

have taught you what is essential in life.

v

In the plane your ribs were ready to break
because your heart was so full of the love for the poor
you were about to meet.

Two days later...

Your heart seems like dust
and its narrowness frightens you.

And at night you might be
weeping over your misery...

The others looked so nice
and now you can only see them as the incarnation of thousands of defects!

The children looked so cute on the pictures
and now you find them sometimes more than tiring!

And you thought that God was so close in this journey:
and now He seems to be miles away!

And during meals...

One argues and fights...

One offends others and one gets on their nerves...

One hurts others and one is aggressive towards them...

One hardens and one turns sour...
― not always of course!
there are evenings full of joy as well! ―

And sometimes

one is not speaking for days,

one is locked up in sulkiness,

one tries to avoid others:
we are called to live in one another.

“I don’t understand anything: I felt so strong,
 but let’s hope the children won’t see anything!...”

And sometimes,

desperation takes place

like ivy would cling to the wall:
“Why did I come here?
             If only I knew how to love!...
But I have nothing to bring here!
             I can only be angry...
I have nothing to say!
             “Listening is the first step towards love...”
             That is just my luck: I keep talking the all day long!...
I have nothing to do!
             “Doing is only secondary...”
             What can I do?                      
I can’t stand doing nothing anymore.
Being! Listening! Adoring!
             If only it would all be about doing, talking, being in the forefront!” 

No, my beloved, it is all about love!

The soup is bitter, tomorrow it will be sweet.

Do we need, for hours,
to explain our words,
to justify our behaviors,
to mistrust one another?

No! Here is what you need to do:

Kneel all around the kitchen table

and start to pray
like hungry children

and to cry out:
             “O my God, we don’t know how to love each other!”

This is one thing you all have in common!

There is no doubt that this declaration of your lack of love,

this humble and brutal declaration
makes Love melt...

And soon hearts are filled with joy,

and you don’t understand anymore why you were arguing

and you will tell each other:
”How stupid we were!
Why lose so much time in being nasty to one another?
Do the little ones need our stupidities?”

prayer brings peace to the hearts.
“I give you peace, my peace I give you.” (Jn 14:27)
“He breathed on them and said:
             “Peace be with you.”” (Jn 20:21-22)

Doesn’t praying mean to put ourselves
together under God’s breath?

prayer nourishes the hearts

You ask: “Why pray?”

I answer: “Why eat?”

Isn’t skipping prayer as dangerous for your life as anorexia?

prayer makes you humble of heart

It brings you to your knees in front of the little ones
and makes you wash their feet.

Jesus’ example is so beautiful!

I am haunted by this scene of
the Last Supper

which stirred up humanity.

I wrote for last year’s Holy Thursday:
“If the Syrians would wash the feet of the Lebanese
             and the Lebanese, the feet of the Syrians...
If the politicians would wash the feet of the citizens...
If this evening Mr Mitterand would wash the feet of his ministers,
             and the ministers the ones of the State secretaries,
             and the State secretaries the ones of the deputies...
If the parents, this evening and each day

           would wash the feet of their children...

If the teachers would wash the feet of their students...

If the Chinese would wash the feet of the Americans

                        And the Americans, the feet of the Russians...

If the owners of the huge farms in Brazil

                        would go down to the “favellas” and would wash the feet of the children in the streets...

It would avoid all those expensive meetings of the UN, the FAO, Unesco and would be a thousand times more efficient!

It would develop the quality of love in the world and the world would be so much more beautiful!

And all those suggestions are not coming from me,

they are Jesus’:
“If I therefore the master and teacher
have washed your feet,
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.’ (Jn 13:14-15)

It is too easy to say:
“Nothing will ever change.
There will always be murderers and victims.”
It is too easy to give up
And it is criminal as well!

You have to stand up,
― which means for Jesus’ disciples
you have to kneel down―,

You have to remain silent in washing the feet of all
― of the one who betrays us and of our friend ―

and you will discover the following:

since God has washed men’s feet,

since Jesus has washed Judas’ feet,
nothing can change the world more
than a man who is washing his brother’s feet.”

prayer unifies the hearts.

Under the same roof are living together
black, white or oriental people,
you might be engineers or no good at anything
― as your teachers kept telling you ―,
you can be republicans or democrats,
you can be passionate or phlegmatic...

What a beautiful diversity that
I hope will always be growing!

May there be in Bethlehem
in the same crib, Christian Arabs and Jewish Christians...

And in Bombay
in the same house, volunteers from all casts...

And in Beirut...
Your differences are a huge advantage!

prayer simplifies the hearts.

You are a boy.

You detect all the causes
and are looking for all the reasons.

You are structuring an ideal Heart’s Home
with many laws and rules:
             I only want the ones of love!

You are a girl.

You imagine thousands of insinuations
through knowing gazes and smiles.

You load yourself down with many jealousies.

You always think that you are forgotten
and this becomes your only worry.

My beloved Brothers!
If only you would await the solution from God alone...

My beloved Sisters!
If only you would look at God alone...

So do you understand it now?

Heart’s Home is not a code,

nor a structure that enables young people who are looking for exotic adventure
to go abroad.

It is a spirit,
a very simple life of prayer
in the very simple love of god.

Heart’s Home is not founded in the skills and the know-how
but in humility and prayer.

It is not a humanitarian work,
it is a work of salvation.

It is a Community where you learn to love each other,
to love each other day after day

           and to love each other to the end.

It is a Community where you pray
so that difficulties come to nothing
that ambitions and fears be revealed.

It is a Community where you accept
to show others your feet
that get dirty again and again.

Poor men! We are all the same!

It is a Community where you accept
to wash one another’s feet
in kneeling down in front of them!

There is only one way to be elevated
and that is to go down!

Beloved! Be patient:
you are not able to love at the evening
when you only started in the morning!...

Don’t give up the first day
― how long did you need to be able to write,
to speak English
(and maybe years after you are still not able to speak English)?―

Before being luminous stars,
the Heart’s Homes need first
to be humble reflections of the paschal candle.

Don’t be surprised!

It takes time until hearts are melted.

It takes pain
             ― there is no love without suffering ― 
until a Heart’s Home is united in one Heart.

But it will be given to the ones
who are really longing for it.

You never beg Love in vain for love.

This is my inner conviction!

v

Heart’s home is a school of realism.

You don’t dream about love.

You express it in putting yourself on the cross.

You write it with your blood and your tiredness.

You say it kneeling down
with a towel and a basin of water.

You don’t only dream about the ones you have to love.

This Missionary,
you have to love him as he is,
maybe you will have to listen again and again
                        to the same confused language,
you will have to forgive again and again the same faults.

You cannot escape or else you would escape from Love!

There is no use thinking:
“If only Josephine would not be here,
 we would be an ideal community,
our Heart’s Home would be a little paradise...
Josephine is our stumbling block,
is the obstacle to communion,
she is a permanent anti-testimony...”

But I ask you:
Isn’t Josephine rather the corner stone?
Isn’t she rather a chance for the community?
Josephine locks herself, is closed and doesn’t say anything
             because of you
             and she feels rejected by all.
But if you would start to love her,
             wouldn’t she become easier to love?
If you would listen to her to the end full of kindness,
             wouldn’t you understand her better?
How easy it will be to love
             the day you will be alone in the community,
             once you will have put aside
             all the faces that seem too far away from yours
             or maybe too close!

Let me tell you:
If, at first sight, a person seems most difficult to love,
                        you can be confident that
                        it is the beginning of a wonderful journey with him.
You can choose to climb a common hill.
You can choose to climb the Himalayas.
But at the top of the Himalayas the view will be so much greater!
The day you will be surrounded
                        only by old good friends,             
                        people belonging to the same movement,
                        people that share the same tastes as yours
                                                and are always flattering you,
you will feel as stupid as a climber in front of a molehill!

I tell you again:
May God prevent you from pride
             in putting a Josephine in each Heart’s Home.
By the way, this Josephine
             is each one of us in turn.
I don’t trust easy love stories,
             love stories that are built too quickly!

v

May compassion be your mission!
Don’t say:
             “It isn’t my wound!”

May listening be your passion!
Don’t say:
                        ”I am going to stop him! He told us enough stories!”

May forgiveness be your consolation!
Don’t say:
                        “Tomorrow we will set the record straight. It is now!”

May communion be your obsession!
In the street and everywhere beg for:
                        “Father may Josephine and I be one
                        as you Father and Him the Word are one!”
No other prayer!
No other obsession!
                        “It is at that sign...”
There is no other one.

Each morning you are eating the same Body...

Each evening you are looking at the same monstrance...
The Solution is here...
The Master is here...

I was dreaming about a school of love.

And now it exists.

And we are all standing in front of the Rabbi sent by Abba, our Father,
we are all adults back
in Kindergarten...

Guten Rutsch!

(German translation: Have a good slip!..into the new year that is)


one year ago I was dancing the night away and celebrating the marriage of two of my great friends from college.


never did I think, for one minute, that a year later I would be dancing in the streets of Vienna with a Ukranian (and 700,000 other people), drinking gluhwein, and watching fireworks explode over St. Stephan's Cathedral to the life performance of "The Blue Danube" by the Viennese Symphony as the clock struck 12.

Vienna knows how to ring in the new year...the whole city was turned into an outdoor party! 12 different squares throughout the city had different themes and different bands playing from the later afternoon all the way through 2am. Everyone was dancing, walking around, drinking gluhwein, eating pretzels, wishing you a "Guten Rutsch", taking pictures, and dancing some more! It was like nothing I have ever experienced before!! If you are ever in Europe for New Years...Vienna is a must!

(be sure to check out the videos at the end of the post!)

but it happened. and here is the proof.

the aftermath in the streets...we feared for our lives while thousands of drunk people stumbled home and thousands of others were still throwing fireworks into the streets and waiting for them to explode and scare everyone

12

12:01

the symphony orchestras in front of St. Stephan's prepared to play "The Blue Danube" so all the people can WALTZ in the new year ( an Austrian tradition and much cooler than just jumping off a chair, in my opinion)

watching the clock

everyone either had bunny ears...

or pig hats...supposedly pigs, bunnys, frogs, and ladybugs are the symbols of good luck in the new year.

Alina and I

dancing in the streets...in one of the 12 squares filled with music and dancing

Graben--the chandeliers hang all down the street to create the atmosphere of the largest ballroom in the world! 

posing for a picture...notice the men in the background...

yes, that is one of the men from the previous picture...and Alina had no idea.

then they both posed for a picture on either side of her and scared her to death! 

filled with people listening to traditional Austrian music from Styrmark

so many people!

rathausplatz

one of the many vendors selling new years good luck charms

notice....pigs, frogs, etc...

native americans meet KISS

I wasn't the only American in Vienna on New Years I guess...

stephansplatz

graben

(rathausplatz)

(i forget which square this was)

(square with traditional Austrian music)

(midnight...can you hear "The Blue Danube"?...you may not know the name but you'll recognize it!)

(stephansplatz after midnight)

Fr. Hermann Cohen

it came down to two extraordinary men: Fr. Hermann Cohen and Dietrich von Hildebrand...

and the other day we received word from Fr. Jacques  that he and Fr. Thierry had decided on the patron for the Heart's Home in Vienna.

Fr. Hermann Cohen

I had no idea who he was so I had to do some research and came upon this beautiful description of his life, including some of his own words. At first I was disappointed he wasn't someone I already knew and loved (aka Dietrich von Hildebrand), but in discovering his life and his charism, I couldn't be more humbled and excited to have him as our patron and heavenly intercessor!!

oh and yes, he is a carmelite...rather appropriate since we will be living in Karmeliterkirche/Karmeliterplatz!

here is the article...i hope it takes your breath away. 

The Conversion of an Atheist: The Story of Hermann Cohen

The Young Composer Hermann Cohen was a German Jew, an outstanding concert pianist, a convert to the Catholic faith, and a Discalced Carmelite monk. He was born in November, 1820, in Hamburg, into the family of a wealthy banker.

“Mary revealed to me

the mystery of the Eucharist.

I discovered that the Eucharist is life.

It is happiness!” [1]

The Young Composer

Hermann Cohen was a German Jew, an outstanding concert pianist, a convert to the Catholic faith, and a Discalced Carmelite monk. He was born in November, 1820, in Hamburg, into the family of a wealthy banker.

As a child reared in the orthodox traditions of his religion, he was highly sensitive to the realm of the Sacred and enjoyed praying in the synagogue. He graduated with distinction from a Protestant grammar school. Showing extraordinary talent in music from the age of four and a half, he obtained his parents’ permission to study piano along with his older brother. Being of frail health, he took lessons at the home of a famous professor who lost no time in infecting his impressionable pupil with his worldly interests.

From a relatively young age, Hermann shrugged off every trapping of his religious formation. Sweet and amenable until then, he suddenly became quite unbearable. With his parents he was capricious and demanding, rebelling at the slightest sign of resistance on their part to his desires. As a ten-year-old child prodigy, he made a trip to Frankfurt, where he was received enthusiastically into princely courts. Having found suitable backing, he set out for the city of his dreams—Paris—where he promptly won fame as a man of genius.

Paris at that time was full of outstanding artists. The twenty-two-year-old composer, Franz Liszt, considered then a very upright young man, at first declined to take Hermann as a student, but, on hearing him play, changed his mind. The boy became Liszt’s favorite student, who appeared with him as his accompanist during his recitals in the salons of Paris. Hermann charmed everyone with his talent and good looks. Newspapers idolized him. He met a great number of artists and writers, including Georges Sand, who made frequent mention of him in her writings. Paris went into raptures over this young virtuoso of extraordinary talent.

Success took its toll on Cohen’s character. Capricious, proud, arrogant and affected, he began to live a hedonistic life. He was unkind and nasty in his dealings with his mother, brother, and those nearest to him. He kept bad company. A spiritual wreck, he fell into bouts of melancholy. His departure for Geneva to join his beloved master only deepened his depression. At last, after several months, he succeeded in rejoining Liszt. But Hermann’s tumultuous life and addiction to the gaming tables in Geneva brought him more and more grief. He traveled widely throughout Europe, made trips to Italy and England, then returned once more to France.

In May of 1847, Prince Moskowa was seeking a choir director for Sainte Valérie Church on Rue Bourgogne in Paris. Even though Cohen was Jewish, he willingly took the position; he had debts to pay off, after all. His choir was charged with the task of solemnizing a Friday Benediction service in honor of Our Blessed Mother.

“Ravished” by Mary for the Eucharistic Jesus

Cohen watched attentively as the people prayed in church. The strange rites were entirely beyond his ken; and yet somehow he felt drawn to them. The extraordinary concentration of the faithful had an increasingly infectious effect on him. Near the end of the celebration, his gaze fell on the altar, where, in the midst of the flowers and lights, there stood a golden object containing a shining little white circle. When the celebrant raised the object in order to bless the people, all fell reverently to their knees. Cohen did not understand this gesture of blessing the faithful with the Blessed Sacrament, and yet he felt himself deeply stirred and touched by some unknown power:

“I had the peculiar impression of being excluded from this, as though the blessing were not for me” (KK, p.57).

God had “ravished” him interiorly with seemingly contradictory feelings: pain that this was not for him and, at the same time, a strange joyous hope that promised to relieve him of the crushing weight that oppressed him. On leaving the church, he was quite beside himself. He thought the feelings would pass like so many other euphoric experiences he had had in the past. But this did not happen. Instead it was his passions that began to subside. He walked around as though in a dream. The following Friday he went to the church as one compelled. During the blessing he burst into tears. On gazing at the Host, he experienced the presence of the Loving God.

This meeting with Christ in the Blessed Sacrament decided the musician’s fate. Many times, feeling drawn by a strange, sweet power, he went back to the church. Finally, he dropped to his knees without knowing Whom he was kneeling before. From his lips flowed the following spontaneous prayer, “Who are you, Lord? What am I to do?”

Hermann felt unable to share these experiences with anyone. At the time he was living in the house of Adalbert von Beaumont. There, in the library, he found an old prayer book belonging to von Beaumont’s mother. It was then that the skies around him began to clear. He plucked up the courage to discuss his experiences with Princess von Rauzan. He wished to know more about these matters that so attracted him. He begged her to introduce him to a priest. She promised she would, but illness prevented her. The introduction was delayed, and then new invitations and a fresh round of concerts threatened to thrust Hermann back into the grip of his old habits.

“Finally – he wrote – after surmounting many obstacles, I made the acquaintance of Abbot Legrand, legal advisor to the Archbishop of Paris. I told him what was taking place within me. After listening to me, he told me to stay calm, to persevere in my present disposition, and to trust in the paths that Providence would without fail reveal to me” (KK, p. 60).

Equipped with Lhomond’s Lecture on Christian Study, the delighted Hermann began purging himself of the false images of the Church and the priesthood that he had entertained earlier. Feeling spiritually stronger, he traveled to Ems, Germany, to give a concert. Upon arriving in the city, he immediately sought out the pastor of a small Catholic church recommended to him by Abbot Legrand. On August 8, he and a friend of his went to the church for Holy Mass.

“The singing and the palpable presence of supernatural power caused me to break out into fits of trembling. I felt both disturbed and moved. During the moment of transubstantiation, I was suddenly conscious of tears flowing from my eyes. God’s grace in all its strength poured over me….As I dissolved into tears, I was seized by a sharp sense of remorse for my past life. And suddenly, under divine inspiration, I made a general confession before God of all the sins I had committed in my life. I saw my faults before me, multiplied by a thousand, hideous and repulsive, inviting God’s wrath….And once again I felt a strange sense of peace, which poured over my soul like an oil of gladness—gladness that the merciful God would forgive me everything and, overlooking my crimes, have pity on me because of my remorse and bitter pain….Yes, I felt that He would forgive me, and, in a spirit of thanksgiving I resolved that I would love Him above all things, and convert. On leaving the church in Ems, I was as Christian as it was possible for an unbaptized person to be” (KK, p. 61).

Returning hastily to Paris, Cohen immediately went to see Abbot Legrand and began preparing for the Sacrament of Baptism. All this time, while attending Holy Mass, he felt tearful remorse over his sinful life. He longed for the Eucharistic Lord; for it was to Jesus that he attributed his spiritual transformation. The period of preparation for baptism brought Hermann yet another powerful experience. On August 15, 1847, he took part in the Catholic baptism of four Jewish women in the Chapel of Notre Dame de Sion on Rue du Regard. Presiding over the ceremony was Fr. Théodore Ratisbonne, also of Jewish origin. The words sung by these new converts from Judaism found special resonance in Hermann’s heart: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, have pity on the children of Israel! Jesus, Divine Messiah, Thou long awaited one of the Jews, have mercy on the children of Israel! Jesus, Thou longed for by the nations, Thou, who healed the deaf, the blind, and the mute, have mercy on the children of Israel!” (KK, p. 63).

So much did the event move him that he did not leave the chapel until he had thrown himself at the feet of the priest and begged for baptism. They decided he would be received into the Church in the same chapel on rue du Regard. The baptism was set for August 28—the feast day of St. Augustine of Hippo. Princess von Rauzan was to be his godmother, and M. Gouraud, a famous scholar, his godfather. A nine-day retreat immediately preceded his reception of the Sacrament. Hermann recalls the terrible last night of the novena, when, embracing the crucifix, he cried out for God’s mercy. Mounting a great assault on his soul, the Devil sought to convince him of the worldly status he stood to lose. Hermann—he fear-mongered—would not be equal to the demands of his new life. Once more, it was Mary who came to his assistance.

The baptism took place at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, on Saturday, August 28, 1847. Hermann recalls:

“To the harmonious accompaniment of the organ, the choir of white-veiled young girls kneeling around the tabernacle sang the chant for the conversion of the Jews. Father Legrand, together with Father Ratisbonne, processed down the aisle to the altar. I followed them, trembling, but strong in spirit. My godfather walked at my right, my godmother at my left” (KK, p. 65).

The Christian

Hermann, the neo-catechumen, felt enveloped in the love of his assembled brothers and sisters in the faith. He tells us that when the baptismal water was poured over his head, and he heard his new Christian name—Augustin-Marie Henri—pronounced, he felt his heart bound in his breast:

“I received such a sudden and powerful jolt from God, that I can only compare it to an electric shock. My bodily eyes closed, but in that same instant my spiritual eyes were opened to the light of the supernatural and Divine. I felt as though I were in an ecstasy of love. My heart, like that of my patron saint, seemed to partake of the joy of paradise, and drink from the stream of delights that the Lord pours over His chosen ones in the land of the living….I also remember being dressed in a white gown of innocence, and being handed a candle, a sign of the Truth, which set my eyes aflame. It was then that I vowed in my heart to live and die for the Truth” (KK, p.66).

The names Augustin-Marie Henri pointed symbolically to his journey of change and conversion. The old Hermann was now scarcely recognizable. Grace had profoundly transformed him. The former carousing playboy, the darling of Parisian salons, and celebrated artist had become a joyful adherent of Christ Crucified. Paris lamented the loss of a world-class virtuoso. He, on the other hand, would gladly have cloistered himself in a quiet monastery, but first he had to strengthen his faith and, above all, pay off the debts he had incurred before his conversion. Consequently, he gave concerts for another two years, remaining with his former aristocratic milieu, but now modestly dressed, and often ridiculed.

He began to deepen his devotion to Our Lady and felt the need to engage in apostolic work. He prepared himself for the reception of the other Sacraments. On September 8, 1847, the birthday of Our Blessed Mother, he made his First Holy Communion. The Sacrament of Confirmation followed a few months later, on December 3. He characterized himself as “One Converted by the Blessed Sacrament.” He spent hours in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament; nor was God frugal with His spiritual consolations and signs of favor.

One November evening in 1848, he was praying in a Carmelite chapel in Paris. As night fell, he was asked to leave the chapel. Only women were allowed to pray there during the night. Hermann was deeply pained by this. He, for whom an entire day of adoration was too short, who so much wanted to worship the Lord at night as well, had now to leave Him for the sake of “privileged women.”

Seeking to make nocturnal adoration available to men, he obtained the necessary permission from the Church. Thus, beginning November 22, 1848, the pious practice of nocturnal adoration began to spread throughout the world. Later, as a Carmelite monk, he would pledge to promote Eucharistic devotion in all of his sermons.

In addition to nocturnal adoration for men, Hermann instituted the Brotherhood (ratified by Pius IX in 1859), the sole aim of which was to offer thanksgiving to God for all His benefits, and especially for the gift of the Eucharist. A conversation with the Curé of Ars prompted this initiative. Referring to this conversation, the future Father Hermann (as he would come to be known) observed in one of his fiery sermons in the churches of Paris that the only form of thanksgiving worthy of God was the Divine Eucharist.

It deserves mentioning that Hermann had a very demanding spiritual director who would go to the point of depriving him of Holy Communion should the musician wax vain on the effect and success of his past and present recitals.

The Carmelite

Hermann had vowed before Our Lady’s altar to devote himself to priestly service as a Carmelite. In order to become a Carmelite novice, he had, as a recent convert from Judaism, to obtain special permission from the Bishop. This he had already received, though not without difficulty, in 1848. Upon entering the novitiate, he wrote to his family:

“Solitude, silence, seclusion, a hidden life, self-denial—these are now my chosen lot. I am a novice with the Order of the most Blessed Mother of God of Mount Carmel, famous in history for its strict rule, penitential rigor and love of God… My wish is that you will experience the same peace and joy that have been my constant companions for the last two years, and especially since I devoted myself entirely to God. He has given me back a thousand times more than I could possibly give Him. He has poured His treasury of graces over my soul” (KK. p. 88).

On October 6, 1849, upon assuming the habit of the Order of Carmel, he took the name Augustin-Marie of the Blessed Sacrament. In October of 1850, he made his profession of vows and was soon transferred to the town of Agen to begin preparations for holy orders. His studies were briefly interrupted by his superiors, who instructed him to return to musical composition. Out of this period came forth a magnificent collection of songs in honor of the Blessed Sacrament. Brother Hermann expressed his joy in his introduction to the work:

“O adorable Jesus! For me, whom you brought to the solitude of Carmel in order to speak to my heart, whom you allowed to abide in Your presence, the Order is the soul of happiness….I kiss the walls of my beloved cell, where nothing draws me away from Jesus, my only thought, and where I breathe the love of the Divine Sacrament….O Jesus, how I should like to show others the happiness which You have granted me!” (KK, p. 95).

On being ordained a deacon, he wrote:

“Jesus has raised me to the rank of deacon. When I think about this, I shake with emotion. On the feast of the Epiphany, during evening devotions, I carried Him for the first time in my unworthy hands. How I trembled when I placed the Lord of the universe upon the altar…. O God of Love!” (KK, p. 97).

Holy Saturday (April 2, 1851) was the day God appointed for his priestly ordination. With humility and thanksgiving Brother Hermann immersed himself in the fullness of Christ’s salvation and Mary’s Sabbath-day vigil preceding the resurrection of her Son and God. After the celebrations, Father Augustin-Marie of the Blessed Sacrament offered up his song of thanks:

“I still haven’t recovered from the experience; nor do I wish to. Let love build up in this poor soul of mine that is so incapable of responding to the favors with which it has been showered so lavishly. Pray that I may be faithful, and grateful, and that I may love the Cross and desire the glory of God. My first Holy Mass! I was happy to be able to touch and hold Jesus in my hands” (KK, p. 98).

Naturally, his first fiery sermon was on the subject of the Eucharist. Who better than he had experienced its power? It was his wish to become its apostle. Armed with the Eucharist and in union with Mary, he began his priestly activity of winning souls for the Redeemer of the world. Above all, he attended to those closest to him. He saw his sister baptized. Soon after, he baptized his nephew who, like him, found himself drawn to Jesus in the Host during a Corpus Christi procession. To Father Hermann’s delight the boy soon brought someone else to Christ. For this his father could never forgive him. Only on his deathbed were the two men reconciled.

Because his former fame represented an occasion of sin to the fiery apostle, Father Hermann willingly accepted the suggestion of going on traveling assignments. He gave guest sermons, founded monasteries throughout France, and busied himself with the growing adoration movement. He valued highly the role of laypeople in the Church. The following is a fragment of one of his ardent appeals in favor of devotion to the Eucharistic Jesus:

“I would strongly urge that, even as the Magdalene anointed the Lord’s feet with tears and perfumed oil, you too would pour out the perfume of constant prayer and contemplation at the foot of the tabernacle. I should like the Eucharist to become a burning flame for your soul, so that, immersed in that flame, it might emerge burning with love and great-heartedness. I should like to see this eucharistic altar, on which Jesus is sacrificed, accept your offering too, so that you may become a victim of love, whose perfume rises to the throne of the Eternal God!” (KK, p. 6).

Urged on by the fire of his love, he traveled from town to town, summoning all those willing to take part in the nocturnal adoration of the Blessed Sacrament—Tours, Bordeaux, Carcasonne, and, finally, Paris, which had witnessed his life of dissipation when he was a famous artist. At Sainte Suplice, crowds of Parisians gathered to catch a glimpse of the musical genius in the simple Carmelite monk. Father Hermann trembled as he entered the pulpit, so great was his desire to speak in this city of his great sins and outrages, and also of his conversion.

“Dear brothers! The first thing I should do on entering Christ’s pulpit here is to beg forgiveness for all the evil that I had the misfortune to commit in this city. By what right—you may well ask me—do you come here to talk to us and urge us to pursue virtue and piety? By what right do you seek to elucidate the great truths of the Faith and speak on the subject of love, of Jesus and Mary, whom many times you profaned to our face. We saw you in the company of public sinners. The plaything of every possible erroneous teaching, you did evil things in public and insulted us with your shameful conduct. Thou wast wholly born in sins, and dost thou teach us? Yes, my brothers, I confess that I have sinned before Heaven and you….I have no right to your favor. I am ready, brothers, to beg your forgiveness both publicly and solemnly, to kneel, candle in hand, at the gates of the church with a rope around my neck, and beg the mercy and prayers of all those who enter. I come here covered in a penitential habit, for I belong to a strict religious order. My head is shaved and my feet are bare. When once I entered a certain church I was only a Jew! That was in the month of May, and there was the singing of hymns. Mary, the Mother of Jesus, revealed to me the mystery of the Holy Eucharist. I saw her, I saw Jesus, and soon I became a Christian! I asked for Holy Baptism. Holy water was poured over my head and, at that moment, all my sins, the terrible transgressions of twenty-five years of sinful living, were washed away. God forgave me! At that moment my soul was made clean and innocent! My brothers, God has forgiven me. Mary has forgiven me! Do you also forgive me? (KK. p.109).

One can imagine the current of grace that passed though the listeners. Many who had sinned with him heard his call and followed his example. Later, having obtained the blessing of Pope Pius IX, Father Hermann went on a mission to England. Again his ardent desire for a reclusive life was denied him.

On the feast of St. Raphael the Archangel, the advanced state of an ever-worsening eye disease (glaucoma) prompted him to begin a novena to Our Lady of Lourdes. He made a pilgrimage to the Marian shrine. The slow process of healing that ensued after the visit suddenly ended with a total and miraculous cure. At Lourdes, Father Hermann had the fortune of meeting Bernadette Soubirous, who, like him, had also been “ravished” by Our Lady.

As a Carmelite, he served as a novice master and acting provincial. For a while, he withdrew into reclusive life. On the eve of the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian war in 1870, he decided to leave for Switzerland. As a German national he was not well regarded in France. In Geneva, he worked as a chaplain among the refugees. In December of 1870, the bishop proposed that Father Hermann go to Germany as a field chaplain among the French prisoners of war. The French authorities would not allow French priests to go there but, as a German-born monk, he stood a better chance of obtaining permission to go there. Father Hermann accepted the difficult post, sensing that it would be his last. On his departure on October 23, 1870, he observed ruefully, “Germany will be my grave.” His work as a chaplain among thousands of prisoners of war at Berlin’s Spandau prison, the severe winter, and the many hours of hearing confessions in the icy field hospitals, proved fatal to his health. God called him to Himself on January 20, 1871.

Mary revealed to me the mystery of the Eucharist. I discovered that the Eucharist is life. It is happiness! I have no mother now but the Mother of Perfect Love, the Mother of the Eucharist. It was she that presented me with the Eucharist, and the Eucharist stole my heart. Do you know why I have decided to become a monk? It is to stir up this unappreciated love. The Eucharistic sacrifice and the taking of religious vows do not sunder the soul from the body, for the body and soul offer themselves together. The sword does not put them to death; rather body and soul offer themselves up as a sacrifice that endures until the end of the world (K.K. p. 183).

Extracts from Father Hermann’s Writings

Among the writings that Father Hermann left behind is a sermon on happiness. His manner of expressing himself was always very personal. At the same time, the Eucharistic Jesus gave divine strength to his words.

Happiness

“I have passed through this world. I have seen this world. I have loved this world. And the world has taught me but one thing: that happiness is nowhere to be found in it! Happiness! To find it, I have traveled to cities and kingdoms. I have crossed the seas….I sought it in wealth, in the fever of the gaming table, the fantasy of romantic literature, in real-life adventures, and the gratification of wild ambition. I sought happiness in artistic fame, in the acquaintance of celebrities, in all the pleasures of the mind and senses. Finally, I sought it in the fidelity and truth of friendship. My God! Where have I not sought this happiness—this yearning of every day and every heart! And you, my brothers, have you found it? Are you happy? Is there nothing you lack?…I suspect that from your hearts there also bursts forth the common cry of suffering humanity: ‘O happiness, happiness, where are you? Tell me where you are hiding!’ How is one to explain this puzzle? Is humanity not created for happiness? And yet most people have a mistaken notion of its nature and seek it where it is not to be found. Listen to me! I have found this happiness! I possess it and delight in it utterly! I can shout out with the Apostle: My joy knows no bounds! Yes, I am so happy that I beg and entreat you to share this surfeit of happiness with me! And this is what it consists in: God alone can slake this thirst of the human heart….Jesus Christ has been given to us, but in order to find Him, we must watch and pray. Jesus Christ is in the Holy Eucharist. This Eucharist is life and happiness itself” (K.K. p. 110)

When Father Hermann’s friend, Cuers, was ordained a priest, the Apostle of the Eucharist was beside himself with joy. One more priest to perform the consecration! Once again it was the month of May, and, in conveying his wishes to his friend, he recalled his own vocation with joy and gratitude:

“It was Jesus and Mary that drew me to themselves. Mary brought me to Jesus, and Jesus gave me Mary. She gave me the Eucharist, and the Eucharist stole my heart and so ravished me that I wished to live for Jesus and Mary alone. That is why I offered myself to Jesus in a Marian Order. That is why I became Mary’s monk and Christ’s priest. Oh, yes! I love Jesus. I love the Eucharist. Let this sound forth, let it echo from the choirs, over hill and dale! Repeat after me: I love the Eucharist! Jesus is with me….He came to me this morning. He offered Himself to me. I have Him. I hold Him. I worship Him. He became flesh in my hands! O ineffable happiness! He is my Emmanuel, my Love, my Eucharist! (KK, p. 119)”

Jesus Christ today is the Blessed Sacrament!

“Jesus Christ today! Today I am weak. I need strength from above to brace me. Jesus Christ comes down from Heaven and becomes the Eucharist, the Bread of the strong. Today I am poor. I need a roof to shelter my head. Jesus becomes a House, the House of God and the Gate of Heaven, the Most Holy Eucharist. Today I am hungry and thirsty. I need food to fill my soul and heart, drink to slake my burning thirst. Jesus becomes the bread and wine of the Eucharist! The grain of the elect and the wine that begets virgins. Today I am sick. I need a soothing balm to heal my soul’s wounds. Jesus pours Himself out over my soul, like a costly ointment, offering Himself to me in the Eucharist. Thou hast anointed my head with oil; God…hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows. Today I must offer a pleasing sacrifice to God. Jesus Himself becomes that sacrifice. He is the Eucharist. Today, I am persecuted. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation. I shall become terrible to my enemies. I have lost my way. He is my guiding star. I lack courage. He lifts me up. I am sorrowful. He consoles me. I am abandoned. He remains with me to the end of time. I stand in ignorance. He teaches and enlightens me. But, above all, I need love. No earthly love will soothe my heart. For this reason, Jesus conceals Himself in the Eucharist. Jesus loves me. His love is sufficient to me. He satisfies me and bathes me in an ocean of love” (KK, p. 118).

[1] Sr. Maria Baptista OCD, Künstler und Karmelit, Credo-Verlag, Wiesbaden 1956, p. 183. Abbreviated to KK.