Alice von Hildebrand, friend and mother

by Vivian Warren

March 11 marks the 100^th birthday of Dr. Alice von Hildebrand. I first met Dr. von Hildebrand in October of 2011, when she was already 88 years old. My friendship with her spanned only the last 11 years of her life, but I think what our connection lacked in length was more than compensated by the quality of our encounters. I am a member of the Bruderhof, an international Christian community that has been in existence since 1920. We are not Catholic but our organizational structure can be compared to that of a religious order – with one key difference being that it encompasses men and women in all stations of life including families, the elderly, the disabled, and single people like myself. It was, in fact, a conversation on the role of celibacy and singleness in a community which brought me into contact with Dr. von Hildebrand in the first place. Our first encounter in her apartment during which she answered our questions about the different callings within womanhood were answered with her typical sparkling wit and deep earnestness. We left on a first-name basis – we called her Lily, she used our first names, or more often the name she seemed to give everyone, “dear one.”

Vivian and Lily

Lily and I are about as different as night and day. She was a devout Roman Catholic, a PHD, an academic, a professor, and a lover of great art and culture. I am an Anabaptist, a college drop-out, and spend my days in practical work such as cooking and caring for the elderly members of my community. But our hearts found each other on a much more fundamental level: a genuine, living faith in Jesus. While our practice of that faith differed in many ways, its foundation on the Rock of Christ showed us repeatedly that when hearts meet on the deepest level of Christian love the barriers of “denomination” “tradition” “educational degrees” or “class” are overcome.

Lily picked up on this early in our relationship, playfully calling us “holy worker bees” of the kingdom. She responded to our joy in a simple life and hard physical work, and our practicality formed a wonderful contrast to her academics. Our discussions on Christian discipleship and the attitude of faith were an enrichment to both sides.

I traveled with Lily on two occasions and can still see her sitting in the airport waiting for our flight, head bowed, hands folded in her lap, deep in prayer and oblivious to the chaos around her. Faith and prayer were as essential to her as daily bread – a lot more essential than food, actually, as I came to find out when cooking for her! At the same time, she was very down to earth about her fears as she neared the end of her earthly life and contemplated meeting her Creator. She knew her failures and was not afraid to accept that she was a sinner. This deeply Christian realization from such an accomplished woman moved me. She often mused on and quoted an amalgamation of the verses from John 15:5 and Philippians 4:13: “without me you can do nothing,” and “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Each time I left her apartment, Lily would express again her longing and hope that God would take her when she was “at her best,” and for her that didn’t mean a moment of fame or glory but rather that she would be found “with a prayer of thanks on my lips.” And, without fail she’d exhort me to “Pray for old ladies! The last steps are the hardest.”

Over the years of our friendship I collected many gems of wisdom, some of which I would like to share with you today.

On one occasion I asked her for advice on how to get along with difficult people (something that anyone who lives in community has to find a way to do on a daily basis! I’m sure I’m the difficult one for some of my fellow community members!) Her response was that mixture of gentle teasing and reflection that was so typical of her: “God puts some people in your life to give you joy, but some people he puts in your life to try your patience. It’s not accidental! He has chosen these people because they are exactly what you need.”

In an email she told me, “Beg our sweet Redeemer to give you the grace of learning to talk to him from morning to night (and night to morning). Tell him your joys, your sorrows, your hopes, and...create silence in your heart so that you can hear him respond.”

Another time when I was frustrated by what I perceived as an unanswered prayer she wrote to me “I believe we should NEVER get tired of asking for God's help and grace. That He does not immediately grant us what we ask for is to test our faith. I am convinced that if you practice what is daringly  call "holy pestering," to keep asking Him that He grants you to fully and joyfully accept whatever He has chosen for you, one day He will grant your petition. And then you will fully understand why he took his time. Please, pray for me as I pray for you.”

Some of her comments were just hilarious, like the time we were discussing death and she said “I’ll tell you something. When I die and am buried, the worms are going to have very little food! It’s not going to be a great day for them.”

It was painful to Lily that she never had any biological children. But I believe that through this emptiness the beatitudinal promises of Jesus could become real as she “adopted” many spiritual children. On her 94^th birthday several of us from the Bruderhof traveled to New Rochelle to celebrate with her. Over cake and fruit, we shared our thoughts about this, telling her, “We feel like the children you never had biologically, but the ones whom Jesus himself promised when he said, ‘Truly, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, and in the age to come eternal life.’” (Mark 10:29-30).

Lily was my spiritual mother, a profound influence, a friend and mentor I will never forget. As she once exhorted me, an equally childless woman, “You are called to motherhood right now. Not next week, not next month. I’m absolutely convinced that God has placed people in your path and called you to motherhood. Your task is to love those that are weak, unhappy, helpless, and unloved. Sometimes you can do this just by saying one word. At other times you’ll just have to listen. In every life there is suffering; most people keep it inside. When they feel loved, they will open up and tell you about their suffering. Then you will find that by carrying other people’s suffering your own suffering becomes lighter.”