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


- Posted from my iPad

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?


- Posted from my iPad

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.


- Posted from my iPad

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?