Yes, I know, it's not what you think. . . the brothers are not getting facials or footbaths. But there are some changes in the summer breezes around campus. There are new brick entrance signs flanking the long drive, and I suspect Br. Kevin's hand is in the landscaping there.
There is a quiet campaign going on to fund new protective glass over the priceless stained glass windows....these will secure this rare treasure as well as letting more light through to enjoy the vivid colors inside the sanctuary.
And, the University website has a new look. It is always a little bit of a challenge to find your usual favorite web spots when the placements and groupings have changed, but I think this website has done a good job at it.
The Oblates retreat, open to all, is scheduled for August 1-3, with our venerable retreat master Father Charles Buckley. The book this year is by Frederick Buechner, "Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale". It is a short book, 98 pages, and can purchase online through the chain bookstores. Hope to see you there!
Abbot Lawrence is also leading a summer retreat, July 11-13, on Pope Benedict XVI's Teaching on Love, his first encyclical.
Both retreats begin Friday evening session at 8 p.m. with registration beginning at 6 p.m. A private dorm room with linens and a shared bathroom, along with meals Saturday through Sunday breakfast in the monastery refectory, are included with the very reasonable price of $80. A gift offering to the retreat master is available to participate in. The campus indoor pool and gym are available during its Saturday hours. Also the well-reputed Mabee-Gerrer Museum is open.
This is a great way to recharge spiritually and rest physically, in the company of other adults of all ages wishing to learn and reflect under the wisdom of Benedictine values, in a beautiful rural campus setting.
Have a peace-able summer and I will post again after the retreat.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Spring Oblate Day
Dear readers, on the 8th day of Easter, we will meet at St. Gregory's for our Spring Oblates Day. The Eucharist is at 10:30, followed by food and fellowship in the refectory. At 1 p.m. our Abbot will be the presenting his reflections to us, and at 2:30 the community will share in Solemn Vespers. Our monks are so kind to move this Office up so that we can share in it. We are truly blessed.
It is also a special time, I think, because so much happens around this time. We are still in the fullness of celebrating Easter, and to this end we now have Divine Mercy Sunday. As you may recall, Pope John Paul II initiated this a few years after Sister Faustina was recognized as a saint in 2000. And, our beloved Pope passed on the Vigil of this celebration just a few years ago. How I miss him. Papa, please pray for us, that as Oblates we are truly worthy of the promises of Christ by our oblation of our lives to live the Rule of Benedict as much as our state in life allows.
As we are welcomed into the home and daily schedule of our brothers, may we glean some of the harvest of their lives of holiness and take this back into our world.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter!
The Gates of Hell swung open wide and Death could not prevail.... darkness could not contain the Light. The Risen Savior lives, in our hearts, if we only swing open the gates and tear down the walls around our hearts.
Will you dare to answer the knock at the door of your heart?
This is not a one-time deal, but a choice to be made daily. If virtues were attained as an accomplishment, there would be no need for the perpetual re-reading of Holy Scriptures and other writings such as our Rule.
So, do not despair, my beloved readers, I know this of which I speak, and I want to comfort and encourage you today on your sojourn. Take a break, rest under a tree for a spell. Remember the Isrealites followed the cloud by day and fire by night. When the cloud stopped, so did they. Are you discouraged that the cloud doesn't seem to have moved for you, leading you in some direction, in any direction, for a very long time?
Trust in God. True humility begins to be formed when we accept the unwilled parts of our life, as God reveals His plan. Please pray for me; I will be praying for you during this Eastertide, time of gladness. Pax.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Lenten Fast
How is your Lenten fast going?
What is your thought on the purpose of the Lenten fast?
I ask because I've heard many adaptations over the years, from many circles. Some heroic, some rigorous, some charitable, some honestly still self-focused.
How is it that the goal of Lent, to get focus off oneself, is accomplished through denial? I think you would agree that denial seems to have the contrary effect, bringing amplified focus on oneself as we struggle, successfully or not, with the detachment from whatever we have chosen as our sacrifice.
Yet, I suspect therein lies the masterful mystery of all this tradition -- that in the very struggle, and for myself typically failure, in my good goal - in this, I find out a little more about who I really am than I might have cared to know. Forced to face my humanity, even depravity as I like Pilgrim get mired in the muck. This, this is the Lenten gift - to return to the mirror and acknowledge the limits of brokenness, particularly the broken parts of our relationship with our Creator God. For it is in seeing the distractions that so easily sidetrack us, how perhaps our connection with God is duct-taped together with twigs and rope, like a Scout table trying to act like a bridge.
I don't know about you, but when I cross the bridge to God, I'm carrying a lot of baggage with me. So the bridge, if not well constructed, doesn't get me very far before I fall through the cracks.
You know, we take the parable of the man who built his house on sand vs. rock and apply that to the man without faith, without trust in God. Yes, the winds can get strong and test the hardyness of a soul. Especially the unplanned tests. Yet even in this planned 'test' of Lenten fast, I fail so easily, so quickly. I don't know about you, but I need a strong bridge to God. I'm one of those who Run to God. And also run back when I think I've got the assignment clear in my head, ready to take on the challenge (on my own). Which explains why I need a strong bridge -- I return often. Perhaps the parable can be applied another way, as the bridge. I need to stop building 'sandy' bridges and pause to take the time for a sturdy bridge, with bigger branches and stronger rope. That takes time, effort, labor. The labor of Lent.
Always we begin again, as the first page of the Glenstal prayer book reads.
What is your thought on the purpose of the Lenten fast?
I ask because I've heard many adaptations over the years, from many circles. Some heroic, some rigorous, some charitable, some honestly still self-focused.
How is it that the goal of Lent, to get focus off oneself, is accomplished through denial? I think you would agree that denial seems to have the contrary effect, bringing amplified focus on oneself as we struggle, successfully or not, with the detachment from whatever we have chosen as our sacrifice.
Yet, I suspect therein lies the masterful mystery of all this tradition -- that in the very struggle, and for myself typically failure, in my good goal - in this, I find out a little more about who I really am than I might have cared to know. Forced to face my humanity, even depravity as I like Pilgrim get mired in the muck. This, this is the Lenten gift - to return to the mirror and acknowledge the limits of brokenness, particularly the broken parts of our relationship with our Creator God. For it is in seeing the distractions that so easily sidetrack us, how perhaps our connection with God is duct-taped together with twigs and rope, like a Scout table trying to act like a bridge.
I don't know about you, but when I cross the bridge to God, I'm carrying a lot of baggage with me. So the bridge, if not well constructed, doesn't get me very far before I fall through the cracks.
You know, we take the parable of the man who built his house on sand vs. rock and apply that to the man without faith, without trust in God. Yes, the winds can get strong and test the hardyness of a soul. Especially the unplanned tests. Yet even in this planned 'test' of Lenten fast, I fail so easily, so quickly. I don't know about you, but I need a strong bridge to God. I'm one of those who Run to God. And also run back when I think I've got the assignment clear in my head, ready to take on the challenge (on my own). Which explains why I need a strong bridge -- I return often. Perhaps the parable can be applied another way, as the bridge. I need to stop building 'sandy' bridges and pause to take the time for a sturdy bridge, with bigger branches and stronger rope. That takes time, effort, labor. The labor of Lent.
Always we begin again, as the first page of the Glenstal prayer book reads.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The first Benedictine Oblates
Today, January 15th, is the feast of two young men presented to Saint Benedict. Read more about Saints Maur and Placid in the blog page http://vultus.stblogs.org/2008/01/unless_you_become_like_a_consu.html
Monday, January 14, 2008
sheep and goats
Today the monks, family, oblates, and friends said their final good-byes to Brother David. You can read more about his life through the link along the right side for St Gregory Abbey news. What I would like to share here are some reflections of the Mass of Christian Burial, celebrated by Abbot Lawrence.
After the red corded church bell, used only to announce a death, was pulled a few dozen times (I lost count), deep from the monastery hall we started to hear the cantor chant the Litany of Saints. We joined in the response to the lone voice. Soon, the monks began to emerge from the monastery entrance to the sanctuary, and our voices joined theirs as the litany continued, invoking the prayers of St. Gregory, St. Benedict, and many others, the great cloud of witnesses which we are surrounded by in our faith. Brother David's coffin was brought in by pallbearers, then lovingly draped as Abbot Lawrence watched over the work.
The first reading was thoughtfully read by Brother Kevin, from the Book of Lamentations, about a heart's desire and longing for God.
The Mass continued with Psalms, the second reading from Corinthians, and then the Gospel reading from Matthew. Remember the passage about the Lord sorting the sheep to His right side, and the goats to His left, and how he made this distinction? It was by how they each responded in the ordinaryness of daily life to those who crossed each one's path. The sheep recognized and responded to needs they saw in others, giving of what they had to ease the other's lack. The goats did not. And, unknowingly, they were denying their Lord in these moments of grace.
Abbot Lawrence shared many kind comments of his own, as well as some from the many condolences received from Brother David's students, Holy Cross monastery community (now dispersed), and family. It was said that his faith was simple and direct, that his demeanor presented a shy, perhaps quiet man, but that his care and compassion was deep and sincere. He was loved by many, and his life poured out to the end was a ministry of pressing others along their journeys, to its highest vantage points (whether spiritual or in a camping vista).
What crossed my mind when I first read of Brother David's death, was that the monks at St. Gregory's Abbey were very kind to take him and Brother Matthew in, welcoming them as Christ, allowing them to visit and discern if God would have them to relocate there. In spite of the great emotional strain it must have been on the hearts of both Brothers to say good bye to their beloved home of 30+ years in Colorado, they accepted this unplanned part of God's will and made all efforts to integrate and contribute to their new community.
One monk made a comment to me that this happens many times, when brothers must disband, that they don't live long in their second homes. The bonds of monastic community living are much stronger, running deep in the strands of the soul, than I may ever understand from my vantage point of the oblate. But I am clear that I saw sheep in action in the gracious actions of both the monks receiving new brothers, and the brothers being received. I am humbled to observe this beautiful grace from above. Rest in peace, Brother David. Pray for us, and we will be praying for you.
After the red corded church bell, used only to announce a death, was pulled a few dozen times (I lost count), deep from the monastery hall we started to hear the cantor chant the Litany of Saints. We joined in the response to the lone voice. Soon, the monks began to emerge from the monastery entrance to the sanctuary, and our voices joined theirs as the litany continued, invoking the prayers of St. Gregory, St. Benedict, and many others, the great cloud of witnesses which we are surrounded by in our faith. Brother David's coffin was brought in by pallbearers, then lovingly draped as Abbot Lawrence watched over the work.
The first reading was thoughtfully read by Brother Kevin, from the Book of Lamentations, about a heart's desire and longing for God.
The Mass continued with Psalms, the second reading from Corinthians, and then the Gospel reading from Matthew. Remember the passage about the Lord sorting the sheep to His right side, and the goats to His left, and how he made this distinction? It was by how they each responded in the ordinaryness of daily life to those who crossed each one's path. The sheep recognized and responded to needs they saw in others, giving of what they had to ease the other's lack. The goats did not. And, unknowingly, they were denying their Lord in these moments of grace.
Abbot Lawrence shared many kind comments of his own, as well as some from the many condolences received from Brother David's students, Holy Cross monastery community (now dispersed), and family. It was said that his faith was simple and direct, that his demeanor presented a shy, perhaps quiet man, but that his care and compassion was deep and sincere. He was loved by many, and his life poured out to the end was a ministry of pressing others along their journeys, to its highest vantage points (whether spiritual or in a camping vista).
What crossed my mind when I first read of Brother David's death, was that the monks at St. Gregory's Abbey were very kind to take him and Brother Matthew in, welcoming them as Christ, allowing them to visit and discern if God would have them to relocate there. In spite of the great emotional strain it must have been on the hearts of both Brothers to say good bye to their beloved home of 30+ years in Colorado, they accepted this unplanned part of God's will and made all efforts to integrate and contribute to their new community.
One monk made a comment to me that this happens many times, when brothers must disband, that they don't live long in their second homes. The bonds of monastic community living are much stronger, running deep in the strands of the soul, than I may ever understand from my vantage point of the oblate. But I am clear that I saw sheep in action in the gracious actions of both the monks receiving new brothers, and the brothers being received. I am humbled to observe this beautiful grace from above. Rest in peace, Brother David. Pray for us, and we will be praying for you.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
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