Awaiting Christmas Wonder



10:16pm

All is quiet in the night

in the solitude of my room

soaking in the Mystery

of what is to come at Midnight Mass.

Solemn anticipation

of God's glory to be revealed

in a matter I know not how.

What will transpire this Christmas Eve?

What will be spoken?

What will be illuminated

in the darkness of this holy night?

I believe, I believe,

this night will speak to me of Christ's coming

in new ways I cannot imagine!

O Word of God,

transform me in your glory!

Alleluia!!!!

Holy Waiting

"Advent is the season of the secret, the secret of the growth of Christ, of divine love growing in silence."~Caryll Houselander

Advent is probably my favorite season of the liturgical year because of all the rich words in Scripture that invite me to pause and wonder at the mystery of Christ's coming.  It is a time to prepare and celebrate something new, something awesome, something beautiful, and something all-loving. That something is Jesus, our Savior, always present within us, waiting for us to come to the realization he is ALWAYS within us; we do not have to search high and low, but only have to take the time to pause and feel the divine encounter within. We are gifted with the season of Advent to put a spark back into our busy, hectic lives, a spark that re-energizes us to focus on the essential holiness of what life is all about.  We need only to wait as Mary did for the coming of Jesus.  How she must have pondered the meaning of her call to birth the Son of God.  What did she and Elizabeth share as they both awaited birthing events?  What holy preparations they must have made to welcome God's divine guests for the love of the world!

The true meaning of Christmas becomes more pure for me from year to year.  Because I live in a monastery and am gifted with such beautiful and prayerful liturgy, the revelation of salvation history and God's plan of love greets me every prayerful moment.  Yet, I must always struggle to be attentive to the Divine Presence within.  As I decorate the Christmas tree, as I set the dinner table, as I bake special goodies for the Christmas party, as I wrap a few presents, as I prepare a special prayer service, I know that the coming of Christ is the reason for all this "holy" activity, waiting for Christ to be born in me to gift love to others.

In my waiting and in my longing to see the light of Christ in a new way in my life, I call to mind the following excerpt of a poem by Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB, from her book

 Seasons of Your Heart, "Christmas Shopping"

"Jesus, I think I hear you coming

I think I hear a sound that says

you've cared your way into my life again.

I think I see a light more lasting

than the ones we hang on trees

I think I see a world

that's splashed with God again

so gospelled with his presence

so covered with his love

yet, lonely still...

We are Christmas shoppers, Lord

We are shopping for a way

to make your coming last

O take the blind in us and hold it close

O teach us how to see

Decorate our lives with your vision

For Christmas, let us see!...

Jesus, we long for Christmas-eyes.

Please heal the blind in us

For Christmas, eyes that see!"

~Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

So all I want for Christmas is a set of brightly opened eyes to see anew the Divine Mystery within my heart and within others. And, God, a little bit of snow would be nice too!!!



Thanksgiving Lesson~"No Man Left Behind"



In Memoriam
My brother Kenneth M. Cohen
September 30, 1949-January 28, 2006
Vietnam Veteran

 As I sat at Eucharist on Thanksgiving Day pondering what kind of Thanksgiving theme I could share for my blog, God gave me the answer during Fr. John's homily.  After sharing a beautiful Thanksgiving poem, he told a personal story of determination, fidelity, and teamwork as a lesson for gratitude. As an Air Force chaplain, he recently ran a Veterans' 5K run in Maryland.  At the start, his environment felt very crowded, but as the youngest, most agile runners forged ahead of him, he became a little less claustrophobic and decided he could now concentrate on racing to the finish line. Ahead of him was a platoon of Marines, all sticking together to the finish line as their sole objective.  The thought occurred to him that his Air Force prowess was just as good or better than their Marine ability.  This spawned his determination to forge ahead even more.  But it became quite clear to him that the Marines were really gaining distance on him and that they were looking younger and younger.  So now his aim was just to MAKE it to the  finish line. Shortly after this resolution, he noticed one of the Marines appeared to be having a little difficulty and was lagging behind his Marine warriors.  Father John mustered up enough speed to catch up with the  Marine to make sure he was alright.  The Marine confirmed he was alright and stated he was determined to catch up with his platoon.  So together, they gave it all they could.  When the Marine platoon ahead of them was about 100 yards from the finish line, they all turned around in unison and started running in the opposite direction.  When they reached their fellow comrade, they assisted him and they all raced victoriously to the finish line.  Father John went on to say that Marines stick together no matter what and they.....at this point, tears came to my eyes, I knew exactly what he was going to say...they "LEAVE NO MAN BEHIND."

The image of my "proud to be a Marine" brother, Kenny, came to mind.  A Vietnam Vet, I never heard him talk of his experience in Vietnam.  In fact, if I asked him what it was like over there, he would always say he couldn't talk about it.  And he made it quite clear that we were never to sneak up on him from behind or awaken him from sleep. The  one thing that he would share was that he was proud to be a Marine and was glad that he had the opportunity to serve his country in the USMC.  His uniform portrait boasted this proud testimony of his military calling.

Throughout Thanksgiving Day, Fr. John's story and Kenny's memory stayed on my mind as I tried to figure out their connection with Thanksgiving.  One of my sisters reminded me of another memory.
On February 6, 2005, my brother David, after almost a two-year trek of battling Stage IV colon cancer, experienced his final hours.  His family, my mother, and all my siblings were at his bedside as he took his last breath and was welcomed into God's peaceful embrace.  We prayed, we wept, we shared beautiful memories.  The nursing staff were all so supportive in allowing us time to say our good-byes.  Most everyone had left, but Kenny and his wife and I were still at David's bedside when the nurse came to tell us that it was going to be about an hour before the caretaker could come to transport David to the funeral home and that they would need to move him to the morgue. Kenny looked at her and said, "I'm not going anywhere, I have to stay with him."  I stepped into my nursing role and explained to Kenny that they might need to get the bed ready for another patient.  He immediately stepped into his "proud to be a Marine" role and said to me, "Sis, I'm not going anywhere, I will not leave a man behind."  So  I talked to the nurse and we stayed at David's bedside until the caretaker arrived.  My lesson in all this is that my brother must have been a hero.  Though he never shared his war experiences with me, I know by his conviction at David's bedside that he probably never left a man behind and I have to wonder if there was a chance that no one left him behind.

Kenny was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer in October of 2005, just eight months after David's death.  Surgery was not an option and he chose not to undergo the difficult path of chemotherapy. His last days and hours were spent in his home with his loving wife; he desired no other option. The day of his death was a repeat performance of our Vigil with David.  Even though he was mostly unresponsive due to the effects of Morphine, we would hold his hand and speak words of love to him to assure him we were present and that he was not alone.  About three hours before he died, my mother was sitting beside him holding his hand.  He opened his eyes, turned to look into her loving eyes and said, "Hi, Mom. I love you."  Those were the last words I heard him say.  He could now go into the arms of God, knowing he was not left behind. I am now aware that we followed his example of leaving no man behind.

So the saying "Once a Marine, always a Marine" holds true in Kenny's life.  He learned that no man is to be left behind and one must always be faithful in this call no matter what. He was faithful to what he was taught and reflected the Marine motto, "Semper Fidelis" (Always Faithful). He left no man behind and we did not leave him behind during his final hours.

My Thanksgiving lesson in all this is not to forget him.  I must be faithful in my calling.   I must be a Good Samaritan and leave no one behind.  I must follow his example of loyalty, conviction for what is right.  I must follow the example of Father John and the Marines of racing toward the finish line of life's purpose and God's purpose.  In the words of St. Paul, "...I continue my pursuit in hope that I may possess it, since I have indeed been taken possession of by Christ Jesus...I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God's upward calling, in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 3: 12-14)

I believe my brother was a hero.  I believe he made a difference in the world.  President Ronald Regan made the following statement in 1985:
"Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world.  But, the Marines don't have that problem."  Thank you, Kenny, in making a difference in my life and in all the lives you touched.  You are now with God and I am sure you are reminding him to leave none of us behind.

I think Kenny must have written poetry during his long lonely hours in Vietnam.  Perhaps this kept him alive and sustained him. The following anonymous poem was shared on his Memorial card:

I am the love you cannot see

And all I ask is--look for me.

"Look for me when the Tide is high

And the gulls are wheeling overhead,

When the autumn winds sweep the cloudy sky,

And one by one the leaves are shed.

Look for me when the trees are bare

And the stars are bright in the frosty sky,

When the morning mist hangs on the air

And shorter darker days pass by.

I am there, where the gulf flows

And mullet leap to a silver moon,

Where the insects hum and the tall grass grows

And sunlight warms the afternoon

I am there in the busy street

I take your hand in the city square

In the market place where the people meet

In your quiet room--I am there. 

Way to go, Kenny!  

Ooo-rah!!!!



Daily Song

The Rule of St. Benedict devotes twelve chapters on the daily order of the Psalmody for Benedictines. We gather morning and evening to chant the beautifully poetic Psalms of David.  As the bell rings and invites us to come into God's holy presence, we stop all work we are doing, whether finished or not, to come together "to sing the Psalms in such a way that our minds are in harmony with our voices"~ Rule of Benedict, Ch. 19.  As we come to Morning Prayer, we may still be in sleepy mode; when we come to Evening Prayer we may be tired from the activity and challenges of the day.  But there is something about this gift of sacred pause that reminds us that we are here to do God's holy work of prayer.  As the organ intones the first line of the Psalm, we ask God to awaken our hearts and minds to listen attentively to each word of revelation.  There are times that we might chant an entire Psalm and then realize our minds were on some other planet.  There are times we catch a phrase we never heard before.  There are times we truly connect with God as a line jumps out at us and we know it is meant for us.  Kathleen Norris, in her book The Cloister Walk, describes this experience well-"I found that, even if it took a while-some prayer services I practically slept through, others I seemed to observing from the planet Mars-the poetry of the psalms would break through and touch me.  I became aware of three paradoxes in the psalms:  that in them pain is indeed"missed-in Praise," but in a way that takes pain fully into account; that though of all the books of the Bible the psalms speak most directly to the individual, they cannot be removed from a communal context; and that the psalms are holistic in insisting that the mundane and the holy are inextricably linked."

The Psalms are full of an array of emotions. They can be uplifting or they can be full of darkness.  They can be joyful or they can be sad.  They can make us happy or they can make us melancholic.  The Psalms reflect all of our life experiences.  They are as timely today as they were in the time of David.  The words of the Psalms seep into the very core of our being.  They become part of our life's journey and stay with us throughout the day.  In the midst of our daily work, our private prayer, our conversation, a line or word we chanted may suddenly jump from out of nowhere, and we know this is God's gentle whisper.  "Benedictines become so close to the psalms that they become...like a heartbeat...Internalizing the psalms in this way allows contemporary Benedictines to find personal relevance in this ancient poetry."(Norris, The Cloister Walk) 

So day in and day out we come to sing our gratitude for God's call, our longing for a deeper relationship with God, and our cry for a peaceful world.  We pray for ourselves, for the world, and for those unable to pray. Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister (The Rule of St. Benedict,Insights for the Ages)sums it up perfectly: "Prayer...if we sing praise wisely, or well, or truly, becomes a furnace in which every act of our lives is submitted to the heat and purifying process of the smelter's fire so that our minds and our hearts, our ideas and our lives, come to be in sync, so that we are what we say we are, so that the prayers that pass our lips change our lives, so that God's presence  becomes palpable to us."

"O search me, God,

and know my heart.

O test me and know my thoughts.

See that I follow not the wrong path

and lead me in the path of life eternal."

Psalm 138





"That in All Things God May be Glorified."

    

Autumn Portrait

No artist can capture

the pure image of God's autumn masterpiece.

Only God's palette hosts

the radiant yellow, flaming red and orange hues

of the autumn leaves

my eyes behold on this beautiful sunny day.

As I contemplate this gift of beauty before my eyes,

                                       becoming aware of my own autumn days,

                                      I know I am at a crossroad of younger years and older years.

                                     As the leaves gracefully fall,

                             I know that former things are passing away,

                               making room for what is to come.

                                My heart rests in the Eye of the Beholder

                               so that God's portrait of what is to become

                              can become another masterpiece.



From Where I Exit

Rose Window,
Sacred Heart Monastery Chapel



"I will sing of your steadfast love, O Lord, forever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations." Ps.89

As we celebrated the 79th year of the Dedication of our chapel today, I thought of our daily faithfulness to prayer.  In the sacredness of this Benedictine oratory, we have immersed ourselves in God's faithful presence to sing the psalms that speak God's words to us and to be nourished with God's life at the Eucharistic table.

The rose window speaks words of love and fidelity. Each morning as I exit the chapel, I rarely miss gazing at this sacred symbol of God's everlasting love. Jesus points to his heart and reminds me that LOVE is what it is all about in life.  I hear the words "Priscilla, take my love with you wherever you go today.  Be aware of my heart within your heart.  Go forth to love as I have loved you."

How often I hear us tell our guests not to miss gazing at the rose window.  This is living proof of our conviction that Jesus is the centerpoint of our lives and that we are eager to share this living reality with others.  The enormous icon engages us in a silent pause as we behold the beauty of its encounter, an encounter that does not need words to describe it.  We know it as a gift from God of everlasting love and fidelity.

Your Love, O God, is everlasting!

Your heart renews us day by day

as we chant your words of love.

You look upon us with faithful love

and feed us daily at your table.

You are the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Keep us faithful to your holy way

and be with us as we share your life.

May our hearts become your heart

in all we do and say.

                                     

From Where I Sit

  

St. Gertrude stained glass window
Sacred Heart Monastery Chapel



The stained glass windows in our Chapel faithfully lend themselves to awe and inspiration.  From my seat in choir, I often gaze at these beautiful icons during the prayerful silent pauses between the chanting of the Psalms.   This image of St. Gertrude is one of my favorites and I never grow tired of pondering its meaning and relevance. 

 St. Gertrude (1256-1302) was a Benedictine nun of Helfta Abbey in Germany.  Jane Klimisch, OSB says the following of St. Gertrude's monastic environment:

"A well-ordered community, its identifying features were a vibrant liturgical life, a regime of vigorous study, manual and intellectual work that served both monastic and neighborly needs, and daily lectio divina which led to peaks of contemplation."

(from Medievel Women Monastics, Schmitt, Kulzer)

                                                                                                                                                                                                         

St. Gertrude's writings speak of divine intimacy and mystical dialogue with her loving God.  She had a "sense of an intimate connection between the heart of Christ and the Eucharist, and her saturation in the prophetical Scriptures wherein Jeremiah and others speak of the everlasting love found in God's heart and of the human heart as an organ of knowing: "I will give them a heart to know me" (Jer. 24:7)  Gertrude absorbed the biblical meaning of heart as reciprocal love and experienced her own heart as an indwelling center. " (Klimisch)

In Benedictine history, there was an antiphon in her honor- "In the heart of Gertrude you will find me."

This beautiful window is located at the transept of the chapel, between our choir stalls and the Eucharistic table, thus reminding us of the primacy of community prayer in our lives.  During my meditation this morning, I pictured our Sisters of the 1930's at a community meeting discussing what saints would be appropriate for our stained glass windows.  Because our monastery is named after the Sacred Heart, their choice of St. Gertrude is no surprise.  Its position in the chapel is no surprise.  Its beauty is no surprise.  Our Sisters had the foresight to choose this saint as a model for us in being faithful to Jesus' love and sharing this love with all those we meet.

The message I receive as I gaze on this illuminating portrait is Jesus' words from

John 15: 9-10: "As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you.  Remain in my love, if you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love."

This window depicts St Gertrude with open hands encircling Jesus' heart within her.  There is an openness which invites all to share in this love.  The Latin words "Ipsi Soli" (His Alone) surrounds the heart and speaks of Jesus' total love in divine union.  The Spirit hovers over her left shoulder as a sign of God's everlasting Presence.

I think St. Benedict would certainly have approved of this window for our Sacred Space.  Perhaps he would have added his own words in a caption beneath it:

"But as we progress in this way of Life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love."

Rule of Benedict, Prol. 40

"O God of love and gentleness,

O heart that abounds

with loving kindness                               

O heart that overflows with charity,

O heart that radiates pleasantness,

O heart full of compassion.

We thank you for your heart

full of love for us.                                 

Invite us into your heart

that we may be totally transformed into love.

from Exercises of St. Gertrude, adapted by Ruth Fox, OSB

From Where I Enter

Latin inscription at ceiling arch in nave of chapel
"That In All Things God May Be Glorified"

As I enter our sacred chapel space, the above iconic embossed mantra on the highest summit of the Gothic ceiling always catches my attention.  It invites me to stop, pause, and pay attention.  I am reminded "You are entering the Sacred Place of God's Dwelling- the centerpoint of your life. You are here to be refreshed and renewed and to be embraced in my love."

I have stopped what I am doing to enter into a prayerful stance, to enter into God's Holy Presence, and to sing God's song with my Sisters.  This time is the Work of God, our life with and in God.  It is not a separation from the world I have just left, but a communion in God's Presence for the sake of the world.

The mantra "That in all things God may be glorified" reminds me that earth and heaven are one.  I am here in this Sacred Space for a reason.  I am here to be shaped by God and to be loved by God so that I can shape and love wherever I go- at work, at table, at prayer. It is this chapel time that is the essence of it all, uniting time and prayer into God's universal call to love.  Whether I am in chapel praying alone or praying with my Sisters in community, I must know that the fruit of this time goes with me wherever I go.  I hear the call to carry within my heart the mantra "That in all things God may be glorified" every breathing moment of my life. So everytime I enter our Sacred Space and my eyes greet the words of St. Benedict's mantra  

"That In All Things God May Be Glorified"

I pray the following poem

As I open the door to prayer

my heart breathes a sigh of relief

as I step into Holy Space.

The stillness of God's beauty

permeates every fiber of my being

as I place myself in God's Holy Embrace.

As my eyes gaze heavenward

I am grateful for my call

to sing my heart out

"That in all things God may be glorified."

~Sister Priscilla Cohen, OSB

    

"How Lovely is Your Dwelling Place..." Psalm83

The following passage from the Old Testament reading at Eucharist today really struck me:
"And I saw that the temple was filled with the glory of the Lord...The voice said to me: Son of man, this is where my throne shall be, this is where I will set the soles of my feet.." (Ezekiel 43:4,7)
Day after day, year after year, for 23 years, I remain continually awed at the majestic beauty of our Monastery Chapel.  Its soaring Gothic architecture, feminine color scheme, radiant jeweled stained-glass windows, Benedictine symbols, and inherent silence invite all those who enter to an awareness of the peace and presence of God.  In the silent pauses of our monastic prayer together, I often find myself gazing at the stained-glass windows, always becoming aware of something I've never noticed before.  I frequently observe my Sisters gazing also at the windows.  I'm sure we all have our favorite windows and symbols, God's revelation to us from where we "set the soles of our feet" in our assigned choir stalls.

Our chapel is in the center of our monastery residence and reminds us that Christ is the center of our lives. Whenever I stand outside in front of it and gaze to its highest point of 75 feet,  my heart leaps in gratitude for our Sisters who gifted this beauty for us today.  Sister Mary Ruth Coffman, our archivist, describes the Sisters who launched the building of the chapel as risk takers: "When they made the decision to go forward with the building, they could not know that the nation's greatest financial crisis was imminent.  If they had known the difficulties ahead of them, perhaps even those risk-takers might have hesitated, and the chapel would have been years away.  Instead, the building was constructed during the first years of the Great Depression, affording much-needed work for artisans and workers in Cullman."
(Sister Mary Ruth Coffman, OSB, On Good Ground, Benedictine Women of Alabama)
The Sisters raised $51,000 and borrowed $42,000, "a considerable sum to be repaid in depression years." (Coffman)  Imagine what this beautiful dwelling place would cost today!  It continues to hold a centrality in our hearts and we cannot fathom changing its location.  Other buildings may be renovated, relocated, or demolished, but the one thing we agree on is the preservation of the chapel in its present location to remind us of  the centrality of God's presence in our lives.  It constantly feeds us, inspires us, renews us, and mesmerizes us.  "Since 1931, the noble lines of Sacred Heart Chapel have become the most recognizable symbol of the Community-a call to prayer, a promise of peace, an assurance of loving concern, a witness of faith, both to the Sisters and to all the people whose lives they touch.  In truth the chapel has become the Community's "stone of witness":(Coffman)
"See, I am laying a stone of witness in Zion,
a stone that has been tested,
a precious cornerstone as a sure foundation;
whoever puts faith in it shall not be shaken." -Isaiah 28: 16

How grateful I am to have responded to God's call to "set the soles of my feet" in this holy dwelling place.
There is so much to share about our beautiful sacred space, so for the next few weeks my blog will continue on the holiness of this awesome foundation.

My home is by your altars,

Lord of hosts, my king and my God!

Happy are those who dwell in your house!

They never cease to praise you. Ps. 83

Letter Writing~A Lost Art

In our high-tech culture of electronic communication, I have become more aware of the fact that I rarely receive good old-fashioned, heart-warming, snail mail letters. That is, I never receive a letter that I can actually sit down, take a load off, and leisurely savor the wisdom and journey of a loved one.  I don't mean this as a lament on my part, but rather a longing for communication meant to be genuinely shared and that will immediately ignite my spirits to respond with like-minded "soul mate" connection.  There tends to even be less junk mail which I usually throw away (always thinking what a waste of our beautiful trees!).  Instead, most communication is via e-mail, more junk mail than non-junk correspondence.  The communication I must respond to is very brief, not even in complete sentences- sometimes just an impersonal "OK" seems to suffice. But with the advent of social networking, I am aware that there is even less e-mail, less talking on the phone, more and more texting everywhere I go.  I am really not aware of people writing letters anymore.  Greeting cards are still a part of my life, but even these are often sent electronically.

Saint Basil the Great in a letter to Olympius resonates with my lament:
You used to write us little enough, but now you do not write even that little; and if your brevity keeps increasing with time, it seems likely to become complete speechlessness.  Therefore return to your old custom, for I shall never again find fault with you for practicing Laconic brevity on me by letter.  Nay, even your little letters, seeing that they are tokens of magnanimity, I shall value highly.  Only write to me.

Sister Macrina Wiederkehr OSB, in her book, A Tree Full of Angels, describes the reception of letters as Finding God in the Mailbox.  She believes "letters are the stories of our souls. Unlike a telephone call, a letter can be picked up again and again.  It can be deeply pondered.  It can be eaten.  Always serve letters with a cup of tea and a footstool.  Celebrate "the reading" slowly.  It is irreverent to read a letter fast."  She goes on to say that she treasures her letters "like morning sunrises. I see the rays between the lines.  I hear the dreams and yearnings, the gratitude and delight...A letter bears its own copyright.  Standing before my mailbox holding an original very limited edition in my hands is like standing before a feast."

I really can't remember the last three or four page letter I wrote to anyone.  I have written short letters to God in my journal and have written special greeting cards with maybe three or four sentences of generic "best wishes" jargon.  I do believe writing should be an artist's  soul connection with another- a sharing of one's sacred journey to another Holy Listener.  It calls for the discipline to carve out holy, sabbath time- a time that will allow me to reflect on the sacredness of my daily journey, to share it with a special listener, to send the written, "limited edition" and to await the blessed surprise of a return letter in my mailbox.

The Sabbath time of letter writing is a challenge for me.  It is a gift to me and to the one with whom I share.
I am reminded of one of my favorite Scripture passages- "The gift you have received, give as a gift." (Matthew 10:8)  In old-fashioned, snail-mail letter-writing, I gift my self to another with a "token of magnanimity."  If I receive a response I am equally blessed by God's presence in that person's life.  If I do not receive a response, I am still blessed.

So I start this holy art of letter writing this week.  The first loved one that I write to will be my dear mother.  The second one will be my former spiritual director-a wonderful Holy Listener.  And if anyone else wants to send me a genuine, old-fashioned snail mail, I promise to send you one also.

"The connection to the Friend

is secret and very fragile.

The image of the Friendship

is in how you love,

the grace and the delicacy,

the subtle talking together

in full prostration, outside of time,

When you are there,

remember the fierce courtesy

of the one with you."

A Year with Rumi ~Coleman Barks

Earth...Metaphor for Life's Journey

The Earth is "full of harsh realities, but sometimes it's just paradise."

 from the movie narrative, EARTH

I dearly love to travel and to watch movies.  Although I have had the opportunity to visit the Northwest, the Gulf Coast, the Midwest, British Victoria, the Carribean and Italy (my favorite pilgrimage), my life as a monastic does not allow me just to embark on a new adventure anytime I feel like it.  To compensate for this desire, I read travel memoirs and watch the Travel Channel.  Last night I took a breathtaking  journey of Mother Earth as I watched the movie EARTH( Disney Nature Films) .  I have come to love nature films, but this movie was by far one of the most spellbounding portraits of nature I have ever witnessed.  It gifted me with such "landscapes of spectacular beauty" that I will probably never have the opportunity to visit.  From the frigid Arctic to the Kalahari Desert, from the tropical rain forests to the vast blue oceans, the photography experience was a gift from God.  Time captured budding forth of flowers, mushrooms, and leaves spoke of vigilance to me- if only I could be present to see a bud open its face to the sun.  The film depicts the migration of polar bears, elephants, and whales journeying thousands of miles in search of food and water for their family.  Besides the long journey, they must endure the threat of predatory creatures who are also struggling to survive.  The aspects of global warming threaten the livelihood of the living creatures of our planet.  But the creatures of the earth persevere even in the dryness of the desert and the turbulence of the ocean.

As I watched this earth's journey, I thought of the Genesis story- God's creation of the heavens and the earth, night and day, sky, water, vegetation, plants, trees, swarms of living creatures, birds of the sky, great sea monsters, cattle and creeping things, wild animals, and male and female.  God saw that the gift of all creation was good.  And so should I!  How could one watch this film and not feel grateful. How could one watch it and not reverence the earth.  How could one watch it and not realize its message of God's presence and beauty all around and at every moment.

Christine Valters Paintner, in her book Water, Wind, Earth and Fire, quotes Peter London to exemplify earth as a metaphor for "our internal landscapes and spiritual journeys:"

 Each of the great forms that Earth takes- mountains and hills and plains and valleys and meadows and steppes and swamps and marshes and deserts and forests and jungles and savannas and beaches and islands- each of these geographies we transmute to geobiographies of our own personal journey across time and circumstance.  We too rise up, we ascend, we fall, only to rise and fall over and over, until we are leveled and become one again with the single mantle that is the resting ground and birthing ground of it all....The finite summit of the mountain's peak, the river's final arrival to the sea, the clearing in the depths of the woods, serve as exemplars and as metaphors for the often steep and uncertain and perilous journey that is our life.  (Peter London, Drawing Closer to Nature)

This journey around the world last night is still with me.  I watched it again today and I believe it will be a keeper- a meditation I will use when I feel the dryness of the desert and need a pick-me-upper on my daily journey through life.  I hope I will remember its vivid images whenever I pray the words of Psalm (103) 104:

Bless the Lord, my soul!

Lord, my God, you are great indeed!

You are clothed with majesty and glory,

robed in light as with a cloak.

You spread out the heavens like a tent;

you raised your palace upon the waters...

You bring bread from the earth,

and wine to gladden our hearts,

oil to make our faces gleam,

food to build our strength.

The trees of the Lord drink their fill,

the cedars of Lebanon, which you planted.

There the birds build their nests;

junipers are the home of the stork.

The high mountains  are for wild goats;

the rocky cliffs, a refuge for badgers...

All of these look to you

to give them food in due time.

When you give to them, they gather;

when you open your hand, they are well filled. 

My Gospel Tree

"Forest and field, sun and wind and sky, earth and water, all speak the same silent language, reminding the monk that he is here to develop like the things that grow all around him."

~Thomas Merton

Our liturgical readings this past week have been very earthy, revealing the richness of Jesus' parables for growing in God's life.  Last Sunday's Gospel proclaimed the Our Father as a prayer that honors the Kingdom of God, petitions our need for daily sustenance of daily bread, and calls us to reconciliation.  Through prayer, we ask, seek and find the God life within us- the life that embraces God and embraces God within others through love and service. The weekly readings presented us with the Sower and the seed (Matthew 13).  In this parable we are presented with seeds that make it and seeds that don't.  Every time I read this parable, I want to be the seed that falls on good soil that will bear grain and survive.  I can identify with the weeds that mingle with the wheat.  My favorite parable is that of the mustard seed- "it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."

Outside the monastery stand two majestically enormous Southern magnolia trees.  I'm not sure exactly how old they are, but one of the Sisters tells me they were here when she arrived 65 years ago.  Whenever I stroll up the sidewalk under this tree, I am always amazed at the grandiose sturdiness of its trunk and branches.  The ever present greenness of the leaves uplift my spirits no matter the season of the year.  The magnificent magnolia blossoms with their sweet fragrance remind me of God's presence all around me.  As I stand under the tree's breathtaking beauty, I think of the small seed that has grown to reveal God's beauty and abundant love to me.  I think of the stability of the enormous trunk, roots, and branches that no tornado or ice storm can destroy.  As I ponder this tree's life-giving beauty in the midst of this humid summer season, I am aware that there are no weeds or wilting leaves in its vicinity.  The trunk and branches create a cross.  The branches' arms are extended to the world.  I think of John 15: 4, "Remain in me, as I remain in you.  Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me."

This tree invites me to renew my Benedictine vow of stability.  Cistercian monk Michael Casey says "Stability is not a matter of immobility or resistance to change but of maintaining one's momentum." ("The Value of Stability", Cistercian Studies Quarterly, 1966, p.288)  I must keep up the daily momentum of prayer, fruitful relationships, and loving service to all those I meet.  I must be rooted in this holy ground.  I must become as beautiful and life-giving as this faithful tree, the icon of Jesus, the Tree of Life, the all-embracing Gift of Love. In the words of Anselm Gruin, OSB, "Living in the presence of God, we encounter ourselves at every turn.  God, in turn, confronts us with our own reality so that we can recognize it and allow it to be purified by God." (Benedict of Nursia)

I vow to take the image of this "perfect" tree wherever I go.  I vow to return to the holy ground of this tree whenever the seed within me is no longer deep in rich soil.  I vow to become as "Holy" as this loving Tree of Life."

 

Haiku...Prayer of the Heart

I have discovered that the best form of prayer for me is to write from
the heart.  With paper and pen, immersed in the beauty of nature,
I continue to be amazed at God's revelation to me as the holy words
begin to float across the page.  My favorite form of writing is poetry and
haiku.  This was not my favorite literary form of writing as as a high school scholar.  I can remember when being directed to write a poem or haiku, I would just cringe.  Getting the structure and rhyme mechanics just right consumed too much of my energy.  I would like to think that if my teachers told me "just to write from the heart" maybe I would have had a better appreciation for it.

The Haiku is a short Japenese poem, composed of three lines.  The first and third line have five syllables, the second line has seven syllables. Tom Lowenstein, in his book Haiku Inspirations, sees haikus as "poems to appreciate in their own right"- they "reveal their hidden essence" and "offer inspiration."

Sister Macrina Wiederkehr describes the haiku as a work of art: "Take one particular event and try to get it into focus.  Put a frame around this experience as though it were a piece of art.  The Divine Artist is standing nearby trying to help you reverence the shades and colors of your life.  As the curtain is drawn up on one of your life's memories be prayerfully present at the scene.  Just receive it without any judgment about it."
(Gold in your Memories)
In other words, this says to me "let God do the work. You don't have to work so hard at it." Here are a couple of Macrina's haikus from the above book:
A tiny gold leaf
offers a silent sermon
from a barren branch.

My first memory of snow
Oh so much sugar, I thought
falling from heaven.

Kathleen Deignan, in her book Thomas Merton, When the Trees Say Nothing, states that Merton's writings on nature "awaken the naturalist in us, or the poet, or the creation mystic.  Perhaps he will aid us in recovering our senses that were fashioned to behold the wonders all around us."

I frequently write my haikus as a response to my morning meditation. With pen in hand, in the presence of a lit candle or sitting outside on by bench surrounded by magnificent trees and listening to bird song, I let God use my pen to manifest the sacred encounter within me.  Here are a few that I have written over the past month.
In night time silence,
gazing at the Living Flame,
Presence surrounds me.

Mary and Martha
lovers of the Divine Guest,
both prayer and action.

Stand up, awaken
behold God's amazing sight
nothing else matters.

I go forth to work
with you as my centerpoint
to spread your embrace.

This night of silence
draws me into blissful peace,
God's Holy Embrace.

If my high school teacher would have told me to go sit under a tree and write whatever flowed from within my heart, maybe I would have written the following haiku:

Holy Tree of Life
Illuminated Beauty
Surround me in Love.

A Saint Twice Honored

Saint Benedict

(480-547)

Founder of Western Monasticism

Patron of Europe

As Benedictines we celebrate the feast of St. Benedict twice a year. On March 21st we commemorate the passing of St. Benedict and July 11th is the Feast recognizing him as Patriarch of Western monasticsm. Generally, March 21st is considered the primary feast of celebration. However, there is controversy as to which feast is primary. We at Sacred Heart Monastery celebrate both days with uplifting liturgy specific to the feast and a festive meal gathering. The feast fell out this year on July 11 because the Sunday liturgy took precedence, so we celebrated it today. I am grateful to have the opportunity to celebrate twice yearly because it helps to keep my heart focused on the journey of my monastic call. The celebration is a step out of my ordinary routine to invite me to awareness of the sacredness of this life.

Pope Benedict XVI, in a general audience address in 2008, lauded St. Benedict as a "luminous star" (words of St. Gregory the Great, Dialogues -on the life of St. Benedict). "The Saint's work and particularly his Rule were to prove heralds of an authentic spiritual leaven which, in the course of the centuries, far beyond the boundaries of his country and time, changed the face of Europe following the fall of the political unity created by the Roman Empire, inspiring a new spiritual and cultural unity, that of the Christian faith shared by the peoples of the Continent."

From a life of solitude to the founding of Subiaco and MonteCassino and other monasteries in Italy, Benedict's charism thrives today, not only by vowed men and women living in community, but also by enthusiatic lay people affiliated with monastic communities, living the invitations of the Rule in their daily lives. Benedict "bequeathed with his Rule and the Benedictine family he founded a heritage that bore fruit in the passing centuries and is still bearing fruit throughout the world." (Pope Benedict XVI)

Tonight at Vespers we sang the following hymn by Ralph White, OSB, that I think captures both the life of St.Benedict and our daily journey of being faithful to the graced heritage of our call:

Blest in name more blest in calling, Benedict, we sing your praise,

Proud to be your sons and daughters, walking in your proven ways.

From those days when by the mountain, in the cave some way from Rome,

you were called to seek the Godhead, and to live for God alone.

In that hidden cave new wisdom and new holiness were born.

Seeking God, the light in darkness, others came in search of dawn,

begging you to be their leader, and to guide them to that home,

where the One who is eternal, welcomes all who are God's own.

Slow long years distill'd your wisdom into words that are your Rule,

That we too might learn to follow, learn to live in God's own school,

learn to love and learn to listen, learn with patience to obey.

How the humble find the kingdom, how the grumblers lose their way.

Humbly walking in your footsteps, Benedict we praise your name,

Thanking God for your great wisdom, letting faithfulness proclaim

still the wonder of that vision of this world you received:

All the beauty of Creation in a sunbeam you perceived.

In the valleys, on the mountains, in the cities of our land,

still we pledge our lives in worship, building on God's rock, not sand,

and in leading lives of silence, lives that balance work and prayer,

with great joy we prove by patience that our God is everywhere.

My prayer today is that all those gifted with a Benedictine heart may continue to follow the call of Christ and the invitation of St. Benedict to build on God's rock a fruitful life of silence, work, and prayer, constantly seeking the "luminous light" of God's presence everywhere. Following the theme of our present capital campaign, may we all "Reflect, Renew, Rejoice, Continuing the Sacred Tradition."