Re-entering

Home from my trip and having connected with my family and a few friends, I went to daily mass at St. Mary Magdalene this morning, feeling a little bereft after having left the monastic community at Pecos. During my walk with the dogs at 6:00 AM, I had sent a prayer up to God to tell him so. Just then a car passed by on the Apex Peakway, the driver honking and waving hello. It was Bob Reardon, a friend from church.

Two hours later as I sat with my eyes closed, waiting for mass to begin, Liz Sams came in and asked me to move over so she could sit next to me. She said, "Welcome home! I missed you!" and she greeted me with a hug. And then behind me I saw Mike and Tracy Gannotti. And a few seats over were Mary Baker, Suzanne Will and her daughter Abbey, and also Melanie Greico and Lisa Barnes. They were all there for our teen program's "Chapel and Chow" event where we invite teens to attend morning mass followed by breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts on Tuesday mornings during the summer.

This was the Gospel reading:

Matthew 12:46-50

While Jesus was speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. Someone told him, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you." But he said in reply to the one who told him, "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?" And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother."

So, as I listened, I basked in the realization that these friends from 'the way' teen ministry were my extended family here...my "monastery community" in Apex. Later we went to breakfast together and happily shared stories from the June Mission trip, my month in NM and the Gannotti's trip with 12 teens to Franciscan Univ. in Steubenville, OH for a fun- and Spirit-filled youth conference.

It felt so good to reconnect with these youth leaders and dear friends having been apart since things wrapped up for the last school year. We all felt it and said how important these community building events are to empower us for ministry: attending Sunday mass, having personal prayer time, attending social gatherings with the CORE team, gathering for our Friday spirituality book group, taking the teens on annual mission trips, attending retreats with CORE, CREW, and teens during the year, and sponsoring team-building nights for our teen leaders, the CREW.

All things begin with prayer and worship. From this foundation we build our relationships with God and with each other. We come together as a strong Christian Community, are filled with the love of the Holy Spirit, and from that fullness, are sent out to serve the wider community.

It feels wonderful to be home. I know that I am truly blessed.


http://franciscanyouth.com/assets/videos/Rooted_2011.mov

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Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig Jig

  We'll I'm back on "solid ground" after spending a month in the monastery where I was immersed in "Ora et Labora", a life of prayer and work along side the monks and in the company of sixteen other brave souls who enrolled in the School for Spiritual Direction at Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey in Pecos, NM.

  From the moment we arrived, we were welcomed with Benedictine hospitality and included in the daily prayer and meals with the resident community of priests, monks, nuns, oblates, staff and volunteers.  Each day we had interesting classes to attend by experts in the fields of Lectio Divina, Contemplation, Scripture Scholarship, Journaling, Myers-Briggs personality profiling, Inner Child work, Benedictine Life, Spiritual Direction, Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, and more.  By turns the classes were funny, informative, revealing, eye-opening,gut-wrenching, and  inspiring. 

  The class was comprised of people of many Christian denominations from all over the world,  including Korea, Singapore, Guatamala, Canada, and the US.  It was fascinating to talk with others about life and faith experiences and to learn from each others' perspectives. We were constantly mixing at meals, in classes, in small group sessions, and during extra curricular activities too. 

  Some of the fun extras were taking a driving tour of New Mexico, visiting downtown Santa Fe, hiking the grounds around the Abbey, watching a documentary on Mother Teresa's life in Cacutta, enjoying a communiy picnic down by the river, attending an evening of Taize Prayer, participating in a Baptism in the Spirit, singing Praise & Worship with one of the students who brought his guitar, attending a presentation by a dentist who set up free cliniques in Guatamala for the indigeneous people, seeing a presentation by a Hollywood film director, writer, and artist about his spiritual journey, and listening to an evening concert of classical guitar by a man on his own retreat.

  For me the most powerful part of the experience was being immersed in the sacramental life of the monastery.  Gathering in the chapel and reciting psalms of thanksgiving "choir to choir" was a beautiful beginning to any and every day. This was followed by periods of meditation, the celebration of the mass, afternoon and evening prayer, and the concluding prayer of the day with an examen, a  salutation to the Blessed Virgin, and a sprinking of holy water by the priest who blessed us as each day came to a close.

  By the last day I had attended something like 20 daily masses. 3 Sunday masses, 96 daytime prayer sessions, 16 Adoration sessions, 2 sacraments of confession, and 1 mass for healing the family tree.  I think I was uncovered and dusted off so much that I was actually levitating :) And now my heart is full of the love of God, and appreciation and thanksgiving to my family for allowing me to go, and gratitude to all of the people I shared my time with at the abbey.  Thirty days ago we had arrived from disparate cultures, communities, and walks of life, but now had come together as one loving and caring community.  As we said our good byes, passing out hugs and gifts, we realized that through all the experiences we had had of sharing our stories, our pain, our hope, our faith, and our listening presence we had become a family.  And in that loving bond, we had also been healed.

Now we've been sent out to return to our lives and our jobs and our families and our ministries as we spend the next year assimilating all that we have learned before reconvening at the monastery next August.  One of the things I hope to grow in during this year is the practice contemplative prayer.   Through it we immerse ourselves in the love of God and out of that we are able to love each other.

I want say to you, thanks so much for accompanying me on this exciting spiritual adventure.  I hope you have enjoyed the "peek inside."  Maybe one day you'll get an idea that seems crazy and risky and exciting too.  And when you do, I hope you'll go and check it out!

God Bless.

A Free Gift

Rich took a few of us on a 12 hour roadtrip on our day off yesterday to El Chimeo and Taos, culminating in a stop at a roadside stand where a man was selling beef jerky. He also had a sign on his booth that said "Free Hugs". I dared my friend Rich to ask for one, and he threw the car into park, opened the door and marched over there at full speed. A big burly guy with blond hair, a John Denver face, and a rosy-cheeked smile stepped out of the boothand gave him a huge bear hug. I laughed so hard that I fell out of the car, walked over there and got one too. Priceless!!



- Posted from my iPad

A Day of Silence

Today we practiced a day of silence in the monastery. It was a welcomed relief from the hectic schedule of the past two and a half weeks. It seems odd that I could come all the way out here to the high desert of New Mexico, spend time in a room with few distractions, take classes on the spiritual life, eat meals with like-minded seekers, gather for prayer five times a day, engage in spiritual direction twice a week, and still find it hard to settle myself down to reach God in prayer.

But today was different. I still went to the chapel for prayer times and mass, attended a gathering with my class in the orchard to plant a tree, ate meals in community, and spent time outside enjoying the air and the views. But it was a day in which I listened rather than talked, strolled rather than raced, rested rather than asserted, and received rather than initiated.

There were many kindnesses in this day. There was the accompaniment of friends as we gathered to pray. The twelve who came to the orchard to offer a dedication and plant a tree together after breakfast. The man who joined me in the private chapel for midday prayer. The monk at lunch who whispered that he has something to give me. The people at my table who helped me keep silence when others around us were talking. The men who teamed up with me to wash dishes in the kitchen after the meal and the two women who popped in to give me hugs. There was also the freshly cleaned room I returned to in the early afternoon as I went there to rest. And the tapping on my door by a woman who asked if I'd like to help her clean the Statue of St. Benedict and didn't mind when I declined in favor of taking a nap. And then there was the poignant witnessing of a whispered apology in the chapel by one of the brothers to a nun over something that had occured between them and hearing her gracious reply.

After Compline, as the sun was setting, I took a long, slow walk around the monastery grounds. I relished stretching my legs on the track, feeling the cool evening air on my skin, seeing the darkening clouds and flashes of lightening in the sky, and savoring the close of another wonderful day. Returning to my room, I thought of my mother-in-law, who is celebrating her birthday today. I turned on my computer to send her a birthday wish, and found a nice note waiting from my husband.

I set out on this trip with hopes of learning to listen to God and hear His voice more clearly. And today I think I did. For God is love, and of that great love, my heart is full.

- Posted from my iPad

Holy Ground

We celebrated the Fourth of July in the afternoon with a festive picnic at the river's edge. We enjoyed hamburgers and grilled chicken, wading on the rocks in the river, and visiting with each other in a relaxed and beautiful setting.

Earlier in the day we attended an interesting class with a man who is a film director, writer, and artist in Los Angeles. Kenny takes his talent into prisons to listen to the life stories of incarcerated young women, many of whom have never had someone ask them about their lives and how they came to be there. After gaining their trust, he gathers the girls together in a conference room and uses evocative music from the movie industry to help them access deep places of rage, heartbreak, and despair and then journal about it. Next he has them write about gratitude and forgiveness. Lastly they journal about the things they find to love about themselves.

Kenny read us excerpts from their stories, many of which had themes of abuse, teen pregnancy, and gang violence. They also had healing strains of faith in God and a reaching out for life and love. With one man's volunteer efforts in the jails of LA, many girls are able to experience self-respect and healing for the first time in their lives. Kenny encouraged our class to do the journaling as we sat together. We were able to access our deep thoughts and emotions in a very short time and share them with each other in small groups. It was a cathartic experience that helped us to develop compassion for each other too.

At the end of the day as I carefully made my way down the dirt road to the building where my room is, I noticed something moving in the grass. As I stood there and waited, I saw something pop out of the ground pushing a small load of rocks and dirt. Again and again it came up and out of its hole. It was a small furry animal with little bucked teeth, a hamster's head and a long mongoose's body. It was a prairie dog! I laughed as I thought, "So THAT'S what's responsible for all of this "holey" ground!"

- Posted from my iPad

Sunday Dinner

I've just returned to my room from an evening concert of classical guitar played in the lobby by a tatooed young man with black wavy hair, a 5 o'clock shadow and an incredible gift. He came to the monastery a few days ago seeking a short refuge from his city life in Austin and some spiritual direction from the brothers.

It was the perfect end to a wonderful day of rest and relaxation. It being Sunday, we began the day with Morning Praise followed by breakfast and Mass before going our separate ways until dinner. I took the opportunity to take a morning walk and an afternoon nap. When the 5 o'clock bell rang, I hopped up from my bed and hurried to the chapel for Vespers with Benediction followed by Dinner. The dining hall was filled with wonderful smells as we gathered to say grace, thanking God for our meal.

Gratefully we went through the buffet line and filled our plates with turkey meatloaf, rosemary and olive oil potatoes, green beans with bacon, salad with homegrown lettuces, fruit and cheese, and wine or beer along with ice tea and lemonade to drink. For dessert there was friut cobbler and toll house cookies baked in a pan and cut into squares served with scoops of vanilla ice cream.

We sat eight to a table and enjoyed lively conversations and then worked in crews to clear the dishes and put away the food in the kitchen. My job was to scrape the dishes and load them into the commercial dishwasher which cleans and sanitizes each load in a matter of minutes. We put through trays of dinner plates, salad plates, bowls, water pitchers, trays and serving dishes, silverware, and finally glasses. It was hot work, but fun too as we worked together to get it all done.

Afterward we went downstairs to the gathering room with stacked river stone fire place and cut-tin lamps dangling from a wooden-beamed ceiling. We sat together on the couches and chairs drawn together in a cozy grouping for thirty to enjoy the remainder of the evening with our fellow guest, the classical guitarist. As he welcomed us in to the circle around him, he picked up his instrument and removed his glasses. We faded from sight as he played piece after piece of beautiful music, all from memory, and became one with the music, his guitar, and all who were listening. After an hour and a half the concert was over we showed our appreciation with applause and a blessing led by Brother John. Slowly we rose from our seats and put away the chairs before walking quietly back to our rooms in thanksgiving for this beautiful day.

- Posted from my iPad

Images of Mary

The Immaculate Heart of Mary is celebrated the day after The Sacred Heart of Jesus. For our Saturday morning mass, the altar was adorned in a light blue cloth and the priests processed in wearing light blue vestments. It is the only time I recall seeing this color at mass and since the abbey is named for Our Lady of Guadalupe, I wondered if this splendid sight is only found in churches dedicated to her name.

Since I've arrived, I have been wanting to buy an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe as a special remberance of my time here. At an outing to Family Dollar to get some supplies with some of my friends, I saw a cast image of her for $2.00. As I picked it up and looked at it, I didn't see how the plaster figurine would survive the trip back to the monastery, much less to North Carolina.

Later at the Monastery Gift Shop I saw a poster of Our Lady as she appeared to Juan Diego many centuries ago, but thought it too large to fit on my wall at home. Next I considered adding one of the cast aluminum medals of her image to my Rosary bracelet, but decided to wait.

At lunch time we gather in the dining room to eat our meals in community with the monks, nuns, and abbey guests. There is a local woman who comes everyday to fill her water bottles, eat a meal, and take home leftovers for her dogs. At first her image was startling, for she marched in wearing dusty boots, a long heavy flak jacket, a bandanna over her hair, and a hat. She didn't talk to anyone, but went through the buffet line and took a seat at one of the tables to quietly eat her meal.

After a few days I found myself seated next to her and learned a little bit about her life. She told me she has been a hermit for almost thirty years. She shares a tiny plywood building with her two wolf-like dogs. Since it is so hot in the high desert, she sits outside with them on the rocks until eleven or twelve at night before going inside for the night. Her place has no kitchen or running water, so she comes to the abbey everyday to get supplies.

Over the days that have transpired since we first met, I've learned that she is an artist who paints images from her imagination, faces of people she's never met, and sells them in a local gallery. Over the years her work has brought in enough money for her to get by and lately she has felt inspired to give them away to some of the people she meets. When she talks about her work, her weathered face lights up with a childlike enthusiasm. She is surprisingly lucid and happy, considering the solitary life she leads.

She told me she began living on the fringe after experiencing a blackout that left her unable to go to work. She lived with her dogs in her car for seven years until a man weilding a piece of metal came after her one night and she drove off in time to rethink her living arrangements. In prayer one day, she received an inspiration that she could turn to her art to help support herself. A few days later she purchased a piece of land from one of her cousins, and built a small one-room building on it out of plywood. She has lived there ever since and enjoys praying, painting, and coming to the abbey for daily mass and a meal.

Yesterday she came over to me at lunch carrying a large silver brief case. She said, "I've got something for you!" as she opened it up and took out a carefully wrapped package. "It is an image I painted of Our Lady of Guadalupe and it is framed with a piece of silk I found," she said as I gazed at the beautiful image. "The Holy Spirit told me to give it to you." I thanked her and told her how much it meant to me as we placed it carefully back in the newspaper wrapper.

Later as I thought about her incredible gift, I realized that I had received it on the day dedicated to Mary and her Immaculate Heart.

- Posted from my iPad

Solemnities and Feast Days

At Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey, everyone looks forward to the times in the Church calendar when we celebrate the Solemnities and the special Feast Days of the year. Today, for example, is The Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus. On this day we celebrate the entire mystery of Christ and especially His great love for us.

Perhaps part of the excitement in the air here is due to the way these days are marked. We began our celebration of The Sacred Heart last night by having the Office of Vigils. Because we did our early morning prayer last night, we were given an extra hour to sleep in this morning, a welcomed break from our usual morning bell at 6:00AM. Then we went to breakfast and enjoyed conversation with each other... silence is lifted from all the meals today. Next we gathered to celebrate a special high mass with incense, six candles, scripture readings about God's great love for us (Deut 7:6-11, Psalm 103, 1John 4:7-16, and Matt 11:25-30), a homily about the revelation of God's merciful love for us through the mystic Sr. Mary Margaret in France, a celebration of the Eucharist, and a closing song sung by all as the celebrants and nuns and monks processed out of the assembly.

After today's activities of work, study, reflection, and prayer, we'll come together as a community to conclude the day with Vespers, followed by dinner where beer and wine will be served as a special treat. On ordinary evenings we have Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament followed by night prayers where we sing psalms, pray to Our Lady, and are sent off to bed with a sprinkling of holy water and a nighttime blessing. Really, who couldn't sleep well after that?!


It strikes me that these luxuries that we're experiencing in the monastery today are things most of us in the outside world can enjoy everyday. If you've ever experienced a time of hardship either voluntarily (maybe because of travel or camping or something else that takes you out of your usual habitat) or otherwise, then you know how good even the simple things seem to be when you've gone without them for a while.

In thinking about the love of Jesus as reflected in the image of his Sacred Heart, I am reminded of the only year I went to Catholic School. It was at Sacred Heart in Troy, Michigan. I was in the first grade with 39 other children at a school that was struggling financially and closed two years later. We were taught by a young, bright-faced nun named Sister Sandra. She sang songs to us like "Winkin, Blinkin, and Nod" at nap time and drew pictures on the chalkboard of whatever we asked when we were good. If we had a younger sister or brother visiting us in school that day (as my sister Gail did once) then they got to sit up front in the "special person for the day chair." It is memories like these that remind me of how so very loved I felt as a child. And that same love is what Jesus is communicating to each one of us today.




- Posted from my iPad

Gifts

Since I've been here, people have been giving me all sorts of gifts. I'm not talking about their time, companionship, or insights. I'm talking about real stuff.

The first gift I received was a white rosary from the Oakland firefighter. As we were walking from the chapel to the dining room for breakfast on the first morning, he turned to me and asked me about the Rosary. I replied that I wasn't too faithful to the practice, but had prayed it for 9 days before coming here and planned to pray it everyday while I am here in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the official name of this abbey. He said, "Wonderful! I'd like to give you one I purchased for this very occasion." Off he went, returning with this first special gift.

Next a woman from Montana asked me if I would like to read some prophetic writings she has received in the past few weeks. Again I agreed, and she has been talking with me about them and giving me more as I eagerly read through them.

Yesterday a woman from Texas asked me to join her for a walk along the river. We talked about our families and enjoyed the evening together. This morning she found me in the chapel and gave me a thoughtful card and an 'early graduation gift' to pass along to my daughter when I return home. Later this afternoon we were discussing the Benedictine Rule of Life and she bought me a book from the abbey store that she had found helpful on interpreting the Rule of Life in the 21st Century.

On each of these occasions I was truly surprised and deeply moved by the spirit of generosity in these wonderful people whom I had just met. They were interested in me as a person and made me feel special by reaching out to me in these ways. I wonder when the last time is that I reached out and did something like that for someone else.

At the gift shop today, I picked out some St. Benedict medals to have blessed by one of the Benedictine priests.

"How many should I buy?" I asked my new friend from Texas.

"As many as the Holy Spirit leads you to buy. And then keep them with you. You'll know who to give them to!"

- Posted from my iPad

Fire Report

As I stood with some members of the community on the back lawn yesterday, we watched as a helicopter flew in and landed on the monastery grounds. Three men wearing hardhats jumped out and began laying out ropes. Then the helicopter rose up dangling a basket from a long line. It flew over to Monastery Lake, circled and then dipped down. In a minute or two we saw it rise again, it's basket streaming with water, and take off for the smokey ridge in the distance.

According to the daily report, there are 10,106 acres of mixed conifer and Ponderosa pine on fire about two miles north of Santa Fe Ski Basin. There are 622 people allocated to fighting it and the fire is now 20% contained. Besides the smell of smoke in the air and the clouds visible over the ridge, we are relatively unaffected here. The congregation prays for strength for the firefighters, containment of the fire that strong winds are spreading, and rain for the area. Won't you join us?


- Posted from my iPad

The Still, Small Voice

YHWH. "LORD". I AM.

The name was always meant to be unpronouncable, but rather aspirated. A name that sounds like breathing. It names one Who is breath. God is Spirit/Wind/Breath.

We depend on breath moment by moment. Jesus breathed on them.
2 Tim 3:15. All scripture is inspired by God, or breathed out by God. And the voice of God is carried on His breath. Are we listening for the quiet voice that is carried in these words? Elijah on Mt Horeb...1 Kings 19. The word/LORD was not in the thunder...but in the quiet whispering sound or the sound of sheer silence.

If we're not listening, we can't hear it or heed it. Is 30:18..the LORD will not hide himself anymore. When you turn to the right or to the left, you will hear a word behind you, saying walk this way, now that. The shepherd's voice comes from behind the flock, guiding them. We are guided into an unknown future by a voice from behind.

From behind...the voice comes unexpectedly from an unknown source. We must be a listening people. Come to the Bible to listen for the still, small voice. It can be surprising and unexpected. We have this disposition to read what is in front of us. But we must go deeper and really hear what God is saying. "What else could there be here for me?

--Notes from lecture by Scripture Scholar Paul Spilsbury, PhD


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The Benedictine Medal

Since it is so hard to get kicked out of a Benedictine Monastery, you probably won't find it hard to believe that St. Benedict himself was hard to get along with. His monks so chaffed at being under his authority, that they thought it best to poison him.

They filled a goblet with wine, doctored it with something deadly, and placed it before Benedict. As he made the sign of the cross over the cup, it shattered. Then a raven flew in through the window and made off with a poisoned loaf of bread!

Needless to say, Someone was watching over Benedict and today the Saint Benedict Medal is known to be particularly effective in warding off evil. It is marked with the poisoned cup and the raven, among other symbols. And it is used in exorcisms along with holy water and the crucifix.

An aid to the avoidance of temptations and bodily harm, the medal is considered essential by the members of this community. We've been encouraged to buy a few, have them blessed, and pass them around.

Let me know if you want one. I do!

- Posted from my iPad

Benedictine Spirituality

"Mother Cat", short for Caterina, a nun based in Washington state, gave us a humorous talk about Benedictine life. She said they are quirky, and if her name is any indication, I'm inclined to believe her. In ancient times, their communities accepted almost anyone and everyone who applied. Barbarians and Goths were received as Christ. Their Rule states that if their brother leaves the community for some reason, he must be accepted back. If he leaves again, he must be accepted back again. And the same is true a third time. After that, it is "good riddance!" (My words, not hers.) As a result, there are characters in Benedictine houses. They take in a "huge hunk" of humanity. (Those ARE her words.) They don't have to have PhDs or be geniuses, like the Jesuits. They aren't out there preaching like the Dominicans. They are just inside and praying!

At lunch, I mentioned this description to Fr. Symeon, and he listened with interest, asked me to repeat what I said, and laughed. I found out later that he was ordained only a few months ago (at the age of 48!). Oops. Open mouth, insert foot.

- Posted from my iPad

My First Morning in Pecos

I began my first morning in Pecos by waking up in my spare room and tumbling out of bed as the morning bell rang. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, washed my face and headed to the chapel for morning prayer at 6:30 am.

It was surprisingly chilly and it stayed that way until late afternoon. I wished I had put on socks and a jacket. After prayer, people gathered in the main room of the Abbey, which has a southwestern architecture with riverstone fireplace, wooded beams lining the ceiling, and stucco walls. It is surprisingly beautiful and cozy with its low slung ceiling and comfortable couches. Several people greeted me, filling me in on the things I had missed in the orientation session the night before.

A quick walk after breakfast took me down a gravel path and around a marsh where I saw red winged blackbirds searching for breakfast. A little further down, I crossed a cement bridge over a rushing river and paused at the midpoint in the warm sun. Suddenly I noticed many many tiny birds with bright green backs and black wings flying back and forth across the water, rising and falling on the wind currents. It was thrilling to stand there over the center of the river as they flew over my head swooping and diving. I had never seen birds like these and marvelled at the variety in God's creation. I may have gone my whole life and never known about these birds. But here we were, both enjoying this same place and moment together.

On the other side, the trail headed up the rocky cliffs and I thought about the possibility of snakes as I made my way slowly up the rocky hill. Almost immediately I was winded and I knew the altitude was contributing to that and the lightheadedness I was feeling. Nothing a lot of water and a few days of acclimation won't fix, I was told.

At the top of the hill I saw a cross with its base covered in stacked stones. I added my own to the pile and turned to take in the view.

- Posted from my iPad

Walking in faith

As beautiful as these abbey grounds are, it is somewhat disconcerting to walk them with warnings of it being a snake breeding ground and also seeing hundred upon hundreds of holes bored into the dirt. At the suggestion of a someone who lives here,I asked my friend to join me for a walk along the river on an overgrown path for the Stations of the Cross. We walked and we talked, immersed in our conversation, when I looked down at my next step and saw a brown snake coiled up, perfectly camoflaged in the dirt and clumps of grass. My heart leaped and I screamed, grabbing Diana's arm and high stepping it out of there. "What are we running from?" She managed to eek out among our panting breaths. When I told her it was a snake, and possibly a rattler, she asked to see it, so we slowly crept back. There it was, undisturbed by our terror, remaining in its coiled up place along the edge of the path.

Back in the safety of our building, we asked others about it to see what they thought. "Since it didn't rattle, it was probably a Bull snake. Those are good since they eat Rattlesnakes". At least two people said these exact words. Now I wonder, how that could possibly comfort me??? Would you feel better knowing your sandaled foot had squashed a Bull rather than a Rattlesnake?


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Eye Contact

There is something refreshing about the way the monks communicate with the students here at the monastery. They go about their daily business of work and prayer, inviting us into the chapel to join them in prayer and then retreating into their monastic enclosure immediately afterward. At meals we sit together in silence, but at lunchtime and on feast days of the Church, the silence is lifted and the dining room errupts into laughter and conversation. When they do speak, it is to ask us about our lives and to listen intently.

There is something wonderful about that.


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Fire

I called my husband this morning and he was like, "What is going on? You set up this blog and we haven't heard anything from you!" I said, "I know, I don't have time to sit down and write something meaningful." So he said, "You don't have to write a tome with every post! Just send a quick thought."

Okay, Dear, here is one.

Yesterday was our first day off and we drove into Santa Fe to see the sights. On the way home we saw huge plumes of smoke on the not too distant horizon. There are two wildfires raging around Santa Fe. We're told we will be notified if they get too close. As God would have it, one of the students in my class is a firefighter from Oakland, Califormia. He served on the force for 29 years.

My husband was happy to hear it.

xoxo Ronda

- Posted from my iPad

Arriving

I arrived at the Abbey after everyone had gone to bed for the night. My afternoon had been a stressful one full of cancelled flights, phone calls, and rebookings of airplanes, shuttles, and car services. And there was also a lot of waiting. When I was finally deposited in downtown Santa Fe, it was dark and deserted. There was an old car at the curb and a man in his sixties wearing a buffaloe buckle on his belt stepped out of it with a wave and a smile and quickly transferred my luggage to his trunk.

As he peppered our conversation with wisecracks and jokes, I learned through it all that Rich was a volunteer at the Abbey who was visiting from Wyoming. His jobs ranged from shuttling guests, to washing dishes, to providing Spiritual Direction. He was warm and welcoming, navigating his car along the dark, winding roads of the hill country and occassionally crossing the center line until we arrived safely at the monastery gates.

After a knock on the housemother's door, I was shown to my cell...a spare but comfortable room with a twin bed, private bathroom, and a desk under the window looking out onto the marsh below.

At an altitude of 7,000 feet, it is hard to breathe. After a few days of taking shallow breaths and feeling light-headed, my body adjusted and I was able to have more energy and become more outgoing. As I perked up, my new surroundings became more three dimensional and I began to meet the people who are inhabiting this mysterious place for a few weeks or for the rest of their lives.

In addition to vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, Benedictines take vows of stability. This means that they become attached to a particular community or place and cannot easily be moved. This helps them form a family and fulfil their last vow, conversion of their ways.

As Brother Jim the Vice-Superior of Pecos Benedictine Monastery so eloquently said in his letter of welcome to us, "What makes this school unique is that ... we form a community of caring, loving, and worshipping people. In a loving and praying community you can feel safe to be who you really are and to reveal to others the deeper parts of your soul so that God's love and healing can flow in."

So be it.

Location:Pecos, NM

Mepkin Abbey, Moncks Corner, SC

After reading my post "A Month in the Desert", one of my friends was concerned that I didn't have a good experience at Mepkin Abbey in SC when I went there in 2005.   Before I left, some friends/frienemies expressed doubt that I could be quiet for 4 days...and in truth it was difficult.  But my experience at the Abbey was also relaxing, prayerful and powerful.  I thoroughly enjoyed being with the Monks.  I remember being greeted by a 90-something long, grey-beared, stooped-over, tunic-clad monk, who led a tour of the grounds for the small group of visitors gathered at the giftshop.  He pointed me toward a statue off in the distance and suggested I go take a look after the tour was over.   I was struck to my core as I viewed the statue of Mary nursing baby Jesus at her breast while lashed to a cross. I had never thought of her maternity as a sacrifice before.

I joined the community of brothers and priests in worship as they gathered five times a day to sing, chant the psalms, and praise God.  It was awesome and mysterious to rise in the night and make my way by flashlight down the quiet road to the church for a 2:00 AM greeting of the new day.  The high point of the week was the celebration of the Sunday morning mass with the priests, brothers, and guests of the Abbey.  I remember being racked with sobs as the principal celebrant powerfully proclaimed the Gospel "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest."  (Matt 11:25-30)

Yes, being open to "what God had in store" without having to "do" anything was very much against my natural tendencies.  And yet in the end, I was reminded that I really didn't have to do or be anything special to be loved by God.  Jesus, if I asked Him, would carry my load.   And so thinking back on that experience and anticipating the next, I realize that not only am I willing, but I am also excited to do it again, this time in a far-flung location and for a whole month.  Yes, I'm eager to see what God has in store.

Horarium

• 3:00 AM | Rise
• 3:20-4 AM | Vigils
• 4-4:30 AM | Meditation, followed by Lectio Divina or private prayer
• 5:30-6 AM | Lauds
• Breakfast, followed by Lectio Divina
• 7:30 AM | Eucharist, followed by 15 minutes thanksgiving
• 8:20-8:30 AM | Terce

-Grand Silence Ends-

• 8:35-11:30 AM | Morning Work Period
• 12:00 PM | Sext, followed by Dinner and None
• 1-1:40 PM | Optional Siesta
• 1:45-3:30 PM | Afternoon Work Period
• 5-5:30 PM | Supper
• 6-6:30 PM | Vespers
• 7:35-8 PM | Compline

-Grand Silence Begins-

• 8:00 PM | Retire

---

Sunday Schedule is the same except:

• 7:30 AM | Terce precedes Eucharist
• 5-6 PM | Vespers & Benediction, followed by supper

It's Not Really About the Shoes

I had the opportunity to return to camp again last night as I drove our priest Fr. Staib out there to say mass for the teens. When we arrived, the work crews were just returning from their day out in Moore Square and on another work site where they cleaned up tornado debris. Standing next to Fr. Staib, I was struck at how people would smile and walk toward us to offer a greeting and relaxed conversation about the day. I don't know if you've ever been in the presence of someone who was a "high value" person or even been one yourself, but it is different to see how people acknowledge them and respond to them.

I wonder how the people we were serving in the square feel when they are around strangers? Are they acknowledged too? What kind of reaction do they receive from others and how does that make them feel about themselves?

When it came time for mass, I looked over the assigned readings and was struck by their appropriateness. This is all the more amazing when I considered that the Catholic Church designates the scripture readings in advance and randomly combines the daily mass readings over a two year cycle. The readings were 2 Corin 9:6-11 (God loves a cheerful giver) and Matt 6:1-6, 16-18 (Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them.)

To prepare the space, tables in the mess hall were pushed toward the walls, and benches were placed in rows before the makeshift altar. Our priest brought a crucifix, two candles, vessels, unconsecrated hosts, wine, water, a book containing the order of the mass, a white cloth, and his vestments. Once the teens were gathered, Russ played an entrance song on his guitar and the room was filled with song.

As I reflected on the work of gathering and distributing shoes, the community of teens who came together to serve, and the people who came to get new shoes, I realized that what we were doing was not really about the shoes.  It sure seemed to be about them. There were months of planning that went into this trip, repeated pleas from the pulpit and bulletin for parishioners to donate a pair of new shoes so that we could reach our goal of having 500 pair to give away to the homeless in and around Moore Square. There were bins and bins of shoes that were sorted, counted, hauled, reorganized, and then searched through to find the perfect pair for each person who sat in one of our chairs in the park.

But as I watched the foot washing and exchanges between the server and client, I realized that many people came wearing shoes that were already pretty nice. What were they looking for then? A little human contact? A chance to feel special? A little understanding? A simple acknowledgement? I don't know about you, but that is something that I can use too. Please God, help me to remember to always treat the person who is in front of me with the status of "high value person". Amen.

One Stop Before I Go

Observations on a mission trip with St. Mary Magdalene and St. Luke teen ministries.

I just returned home from spending 24 hours with our parish's teen youth ministry as they washed feet, provided new shoes, and did yard work for their fellow citizens in Raleigh this week. My day began with a 6am stop at Bruegger's Bagels where I picked up a freshly baked donation of food for our teens and delivered it 3 miles deep into Umstead Park at the group camp in which they were staying. The cabins are scattered throughout the woods, rustic and simple, but offering the protection of a floor, roof, screens, and wooden bed. I was greeted with wild tales of bugs, flies, and the stray mouse, but the kids were quickly becoming acclimated to their new outdoor home. On their second night and after a tiring day working in the parks and neighborhoods of downtown Raleigh, the teens were able to set aside their fears of the dark wooded site and welcome the refreshment that a good night's sleep offered.

After breakfast and prayer, we loaded the vans that were now filled with new shoes, socks, wash basins, towels, bleach, gloves, ointment, powder, and eager teens and chaperones who wondered what the day would bring.

When we arrived in Moore Square, there was already a line of about 100 people waiting for the opportunity to get a new pair of shoes. Having done this the day before, the teens quickly set up their washing stations, shoe distribution system, and line for giving coupons to those who couldn't be properly fitted that day. Youth Minister Russ Hoyt from St. Luke's parish got on his megaphone and advised the crowd about how the morning would proceed. Then the teens assumed their places and people began to fill the chairs. The kids smiled at their "customers", asked them if they would like to have their feet washed, and then asked about their shoe sizes and preferences as other teens ran off to fill the orders. Small talk and smiles, handshakes and hugs were exchanged as the teens served each person before them. Sometimes there was disappointment when a size or hoped-for brand preference couldn't be met and this at times was hard to accept for the kids who had to deliver the news. They were offered coupons to "Share Our Shoes" for the customers and reassurance to the teens in those uncomfortable situations. At lunch in a nearby park, Russ and Liz (the youth minister at St. Mary Magdalene) debriefed the teens couseled them that while they may not be able to fill everyone's cup, they were being called to empty their own in a spirit of generosity.

The afternoon was spent pulling vines and debris out of some of the yards located not too far from the park. I went to the home of a woman named Doris who along with her daughter and grandson, were moved to tears when they saw the transformation of her yard to one filled with flowers as long-buried garden beds were uncovered after years of neglect. It was a satisfying project for our teens too, who could see the fruits of their hard labor after two days.

In the evening we returned to camp, showered and relaxed as we played games, ate another donated meal, and spent a half hour before the Blessed Sacrament in adoration and prayer. After another rousing game and a strategy meeting for the remainder of the week, we went off to bed and slept well in the cool night air.

In the morning, more chaperones arrived with warm smiles and a freshly baked breakfast; a welcomed infusion into the mission team. Back at home, a text to my phone read, "Moore Square was packed today. Please God multiply our shoes."

Amen.

Location:Raleigh, NC

A Month in the Desert

I'm on my way to spend a month in a monastery and I can hardly wait. This is despite the fact that I tried it before some years ago and didn't exactly thrive. Back then I went to a monastery near Charleston to experience the Liturgy of the Hours on a four day self directed retreat. It was hard to be alone and silent all day, and I found myself repeatedly in the gift shop, looking for a little small talk and some welcomed diversion. This time I'm heading out to Our Lady of Guadalupe Benedictine Monastery for their 50th School for Spiritual Direction. In the tiny town of Pecos, New Mexico situated at 7,000 feet lies a community of monks, sisters, and lay people who will welcome seventeen students from around the world to come and form a community focused on discerning the movement of the Holy Spirit in everyday life.

Now I'm always up for a good adventure. As a woman in midlife (if I live to 96!), a wife and a mother to two teenaged kids, I'm not exactly footloose and fancy-free. But I've done a few things that have whet my appetite for adventure and am open to things that sound challenging and interesting. I've lived in a town of less than 4,000 people and a city of more 18,000,000. I met the man I would marry in the Big Apple only to discover that our parents were raised just three miles from each other in the suburbs of Detroit. In recent years I've taught in steel mills and baby food factories, been whipped by the wind on a hill in Stonehenge with a group of middle schoolers, chewed spearmint lifesavers in a dark cave with the girl scouts, had the wits scared out of me on a mountaineering trip to Oregon with Outward Bound, and had my foibles and misadventures related in weekly newspaper articles as I prepared for my first adventure race with a group of 40-something men at a local lake.

About this time last year I accompanied my neighbors on a trip to their former homeland of Vietnam to help celebrate the marriages of their sons. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and an experience that helped me to see once again how connected we are to each other, no matter how different the languages, political systems, and cultures in which we live. As I traveled through the towns and wrote back home to family and friends describing the events and people, I discovered that I loved relating my experiences as they were happening and hearing people's impressions and responses as I went along.

In the same spirit of curiosity, receptivity, and zest for adventure I am planning to set out once again, this time on a spiritual adventure in a monastic setting. As great a leap of faith as this seems, perhaps the bigger risk is in promising to blog about my experiences (especially since I'm not entirely sure what blogging is :-))  I have no idea what is in store on this trip, just the confidence in the two women who approached me separately last year and asked if I had ever considered becoming a Spiritual Director or Companion...one who would accompany others in the spiritual life. As I discerned this call and applied at a school being formed by a nun in the next town over, my friends each asked if I would consider their schools..and it happened that they were the very same one all the way out in New Mexico. I immediately was intrigued by the idea but thought it impossible to leave my family for a month. So I asked God in prayer for signs that this invitation might be from Him. After two very unlikely things came to pass, I got the nod from my husband and kids. They were all for my going, especially if it meant leaving them behind to the comforts of sleeping in and relaxing at home!

And so I'm setting out this Sunday for the great unknown with an attitude of faith and trust. I hope to find cell phone coverage and upload my impressions via my new Ipad (yet another hurdle to overcome!) Won't you join me in spirit and take part in the interesting conversation that's bound to ensue?