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