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!!



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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.

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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!"

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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.

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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.

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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.




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