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."

The Best of Both Worlds...

"We and the world interpenetrate.

We are in the world like salt in the ocean.

I myself am my own door to the world

and in a sense

the world is the door to myself."

~James Finley

As I depart the Monastery twice a week to travel to Birmingham for my nursing ministry at St. Vincent's, Birmingham, the words from Ps. 121 come to mind as I exit the front gate- "The Lord will guard your coming and going both now and forever." I leave the peaceful environment of my monastic home and journey through rush hour traffic to get to work on time, wondering the whole way how stressful the day will be. Most everyday is very busy, yet some days are enjoyable because of low census during holiday weekends. As I travel, I ask for God's grace to be an instrument of his love to all my patients, the vistors, and my co-workers. Even with 36 years of nursing experience, there still is the ongoing struggle of how to put the spirituality component into my nursing practice, how to merge my religious life with the secular world. In my heart and my mind, I know these two worlds are not separate; there is only one world. Yet, I fail at times to be constantly aware of this conviction as I begin to handle the unexpected events of the fast-paced hospital world.

Yesterday was one of those days. The unpredictable kept happening and happening and happening and happening. I was lucky to get a lunch break at 1:30 pm only because I thought I might pass out if I didn't get something to eat or drink and I knew I still had too much to do- no time to pass out! After lunch, I felt better and planned to make my rounds, finish my charting, give report, and leave ON TIME. But oh, no, everything started happening and happening and happening again. I left an hour late. On the ride home I tried to recollect God's presence in this "ordinary" day of my life. The only response that came to mind was "Priscilla, you did the best you could. Let it go!"

Before I went to bed, I re-lived my day for a glimpse of something sacred, but I still only heard "Priscilla, you did the best you could. Let it go!"

During my prayer time this morning, I recalled a sacred glimpse of yesterday. As the oncoming nurse and I were making walking rounds, one of the patients thanked me for taking such good care of her. I told her I would keep her in prayer. Due to my exhaustion at the time, I did not recognize this as a graceful moment. But God gifted me with the sacred awareness of this event this morning. A revelation that I can carry as a mantra each day to work. God walks with me in my ministry whether I am aware of it or not. He "guards my coming and going both now and forever."

I recalled a prayer I wrote a couple of years ago for a Nurse's Week Awareness event:

A Nurse's Prayer

Bless my heart, Lord

this day and everyday

as I go from room to room

with that sense of doom

burdened by the hectic pace of the day.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as I respond to my patients' needs

with the same patience and compassion

you showed in all your life's deeds.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as you walk each step with me,

comforting me through each frustration,

reminding me that compassion is the key.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday

as you open my eyes to truly see

your face in all I meet,

a reflection of you I am called to be.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this day and everyday,

when at bedtime hour I recall

the compassionate touches of love I gave

and the failures you forgave.

Bless my heart, Lord,

this night and every night

to begin another day aright.

This prayer is fitting for "both" of my worlds. It is the prayer I take with me on my "coming and going...both now and forever." To use the words of one of my favorite authors, Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB

"May it come to pass."