Showing posts with label monasticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monasticism. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 15, 2012



Sister Maria Linda Magbiro, OSsR


Profession of Solemn Vows
in the
Order of the Most Holy Redeemer

"We rejoice in the Lord, always."

Saturday, August 11, 2012
Cabrini Chapel, West Park, New York

Enjoy a slide show of the profession celebration.


Thursday, February 09, 2012

Contemplative Nuns to Meet in Rome

Or....As If the Esopus Redemptoristines
Didn't Already Have
Enough on Their Plate!

The process of arranging for our move to a new location late in May goes on and on. Can't wait until we can unveil the whole plan. But now the lawyers are writing the purchase agreement, the finances are being contemplated and contractors are readying their bids. Each day more loose ends appear which we try to tie up as soon as possible. Stay tuned for further installments of the saga. And keep on praying.

For over a year, as all of this 'shock and awe' was transpiring locally, we have also been participating in preparations for a General Assembly of our international community, the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer. Since we are a contemplative order we do not have a general government riding herd over all the monasteries of the Order. Each contemplative monastery is autonomous as is the case with Carmelites, Poor Clares, etc. Autonomous monasteries may organize themselves into federations but these federation do not have real legal (juridical authority). 

It is a fortunate conincidence that earlier this week Sr. Julie Viera at the interactive blog "A Nun's Life" (highly recommended) described the recent General Chapter of her congregation, Sister Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (IHMs of Monroe, MI). One of the IHM founders was a Redemptorist so we have some roots in common. Note the difference of meeting title. The IHMs had a General Chapter and the Redemptoristines are going to have a General Assembly. There is a big difference between them. Here are Sr. Julie's words about their Chapter:

Although Chapter is part and parcel of our life as Catholic sisters and nuns today, it might seem like a secret event veiled in mystery for those outside of religious life! So, here’s a bit more about what Chapter is. I am drawing here from my brother Redemptorists who provide a great intro on General Chapter.

"The General Chapter is a visible expression of a fundamental sense of democracy that lies at the heart of religious life. This democracy is based on the radical equality of all the members by virtue of their baptism and their religious consecration, hence their common vocation to be prophets or spokespersons for God. In this sense, a General Chapter resembles more the gathering of Mary and the apostles at Pentecost than a modern parliament or congress. The participants in the General Chapter gather in the name of Jesus Christ, confident that his Spirit will help us to accomplish our work.

What are those tasks? The General Chapter must first take an honest look at the state of the Congregation… This examination should then lead the Chapter members to face honestly certain discomforting questions: are we faithful to our mission or have we slid into mediocrity? What is the Lord asking of us today? How are we being asked to change? The General Chapter will offer specific directives for the whole Congregation as it proposes a path to help [religious] live more authentically their … vocation. Finally, the delegates will elect the leadership of the Congregation for the next six years … "(Source - http://www.cssr.com/)
For our IHM General Chapter, we had a gathering of over 150 IHM Sisters and were joined for some parts of Chapter by our IHM Associates and others who could be of great help in our discernment and decision-making. One of the best parts was that we come together from across the globe, across ministries, across generations, across cultures and gather under one roof. It was a visible expression of the community we experience with one another every day of our religious life no matter where we are.

The Redemptoristine General Assembly will have exactly the same goals and function as the IHM General Chapter and the Redemptorist General Chapter as described here. However, a General Assembly does not have the same level of authority according to Canon Law. In a congregation such as the IHMs a Chapter is composed of all the professed sisters in its various houses and ministries. In a contemplative order a Chapter is composed of all the solemnly professed nuns in that particular monastery. When we have a community meeting atteneded by only the nuns in solemn vows we are having a Chapter meeting. Chapters elect leadership, approve or reject requests for vows and provide consultation for the superior.  A General Assembly does not elect leadership because, unlike a congregation, an order does not have a general government. Our Prioress, the elected superior has the same level of authority within our monastery as a major superior (mother general or father general).  This makes the fairness of monastery elections absolutely vital so by Canon Law those elections must be supervised by the local ordinary or his representative and the accuracy of the vote count attested to by 'scrutineers'. 

Nonetheless, our General Assembly will be an opportunity for Redemptoristines to "come together from across the globe, across ministries, across generations, across cultures and gather under one roof." The Assembly, its deliberations and discussions, the personal interaction afforded by the gathering will contribute to unity and energy for the apostolic work of the Order. But monastic autonomy will continue to defend the right of each monastery to interpret the Assembly's directives as suggestions subject to their own house statutes. However, a General Assembly, can by agreement, approve and adopt a RULE, the Constitution and Statutes, that will be used a  rule of life throughout the Order.

So much for the arcane features of Church law. Bottom line is that each meeting, at whatever, level, with whatever degree of authority, is at the service of the charism of that particular religious family according to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and in the spirit of the Gospel  love of Jesus Christ.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Household of God


The Household of God: Monastic Architecture
Holy souls setting out on solitary journeys into the deserts of Egypt in the 3rd century of the Christian era provided the first expression of a movement from which monastic religious life would ultimately emerge. The landscape of the desert, the landscape of desolation, was sought as the proper setting for life with God alone. The call to set out, to withdraw from worldly cities, became more and more pronounced in the aftermath of the Edict of Milan issued in AD 313. Signed by emperors Constantine I and Licinius, the edict proclaimed religious toleration in the Roman Empire at the conclusion of the Diocletian Persecution. This declaration legitimized the followers of Jesus Christ as well as their Church thus eliminating the possibility of martyrdom for illegal activity as the penultimate sacrifice in true devotion. Absent bloody martyrdom, men and woman began to satisfy their desire for total self-donation by seeking the ‘white martyrdom’ of withdrawal to solitude and silence in deserted territories. The most outstanding of these early hermits came to be known as the Desert Mothers and Fathers, the holy Ammas and Abbas. Magnetic in holiness, they drew those who wished to live for God, to pursue a life of constant prayer.  This way of being would be attained by attachment to these experienced mentors, stern, demanding, and wise, who taught more by example than words. From clusters of followers gathered around a hermit practitioner with a reputation for holiness gradually rose monasteries, organized communities under the tutelage and authority of a spiritual superior. Slowly clusters of solitary hermits became organized cenobites, women or men living in religious community together. Eventually rules of life would be formulated, the most well known written by St. Benedict in the 6th century.
An introduction to development of monasteries from the historical perspective sets the stage for explanation of the nature of monastic life and community. Lack of familiarity, even among Catholics, of the purpose and features of the monastic household has become apparent as we seek a new location for our contemplative monastery. There is little, if any, sense of the organic daily reality of the monastic enterprise. Questions and suggestions received from family and friends; from apostolic religious whose life is dedicated to active service; and most profoundly from conversation with laity, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, indicate that the purpose and nature of contemplative monastic life remain to them almost a complete mystery. In addition, the fact of a relationship of architecture, the structural design of a monastery, with the intended use of this specific type of dwelling is lost. It has become necessary, over and over again, to explain how a monastic structure truly illustrates the principle which states ‘use determines form’.
Generally, the image conjured by the word ‘house’ is a dwelling in which one family whose members are related by blood makes its home. The image is limited to an experience of home as either an ordinary family dwelling or, in the case of vowed apostolic religious, as the typical residence for an active community. The visualization is limited to an abode which is a place of safety, nourishment and restoration for those who will be sent out into the world to be educated, to earn a living, to contribute to the well-being of others, to relate to the body politic and to be integrated into all facets of society and culture.
The monastic house, any monastery, is not intended to be such a launch site. It is not a place designed to send members forth prepared to act on the world stage. While a call to action is the most common vocational call, the monastic, the monk or nun of our time, no less than the hermit St. Anthony or the great Pachomius, father of monasticism, is called to go apart; to migrate to a place at the margins of social intercourse; to cultivate in silence and solitude an intimate relationship with the Divine. Recognizing their weakness and as an expression of humility, monastics seek the support and challenge of organized community as well as the authoritative guidance of experienced practitioners as they travel the path of interior transformation into the likeness of Christ within community.
From the very beginning these purposes motivated the creation of highly self-sufficient and self-contained enterprises. However varied in nuance of expression by virtue of spiritual charism and chosen modes of life, the members of all monastic orders pray, work, nourish themselves and recreate together. Prayer, both communal and private, is the central core, the rotating energizing hub from which all other functions radiate. Monastic institutions support themselves by work done within the monastery walls even while income is augmented by the philanthropy of benefactors. In earlier centuries the work was mostly agricultural, even for monasteries of women. In time income would also be generated through handicrafts and the arts: carpentry, calligraphy, manuscript copying and illumination, bookbinding, embroidery, lace making, weaving, woodworking, pottery and production of wine and foodstuffs, etc. These enterprises required space for organized production especially in communities where membership could soar to over one hundred. Today a common source of income for monasteries of women is the manufacture of altar breads (hosts) for Eucharist. It is a difficult and highly mechanized work requiring a great deal of space. Our own monastery business requires a space resembling a garment factory; rows of industrial sewing machines flanked by large cutting and ironing tables, surrounded by racks of neatly sewn ceremonial capes for the Knights and Ladies of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre ready to be packed and shipped.
Until thirty to forty years ago a few monastic architectural terms remained in the general Catholic memory. A Catholic vocabulary included the word cloister. However, the mental image of that term was often limited to an experience of some dark monastery vestibule dominated by a turn set into a wall. A delivery could be placed in the cylindrical device which would be rotated by an unseen hand while a disembodied voice uttered a word of appreciation and blessing. A second but none the less limited mental image associated with the word cloister was that of the monastic parlor where a privileged visitor could get a glimpse of a heavily veiled nun separated from her guest by metal grille work sometimes appointed with spikes to remind that the encounter would not include a touch or kiss.
These dark images spoke of separation and carried the notion of possible contamination by the world. They do not give testimony to the real purpose of the cloister or the traditional monastic enclosure from its beginnings to our time. While in the distant past some real protection from outside forces may have been required, the true purpose of monastic enclosure is to preserve and enhance the apostolic work of contemplative nuns which is prayer. The typical cloister, indeed any architecture of enclosure, protects by design the life to which the nuns within have dedicated themselves. The cloister or enclosure is constructed in such a way as to ensure that degree of silence and solitude in which the life of prayer can be born. Today few monasteries retain the vestibule turn or the metal grille in the parlor. Noting the absence of these features many conclude that the nuns must no longer require any form of enclosure. The direct opposite is true. Monastic cloister or enclosure is a living space for the community set apart from space open to the public (chapel, library, parlor, meeting room, etc.). In the public places nuns may mingle freely with those who come to worship, to unburden their hearts, to seek spiritual direction or to experience the monastery as a school of prayer. Today, our contemplative monastic community does not wish to be defined only by the descriptor which declares us ‘cloistered’, as  women who live separate of from the world and from those who live in it as if warding off contagion or, even worse, announcing ourselves as special in the eyes of God. Rather, we present ourselves as a dedicated praying presence in the world, a burning flame of praise and petition before God. Contemplatives do whatever they find suitable in order to follow the often repeated directive of our Church to be ‘a school of prayer’ and offer comfortable spiritually enriching public spaces in their monasteries. At the same time, the heart of our vocation to constant prayer in the midst of the Church requires some more protected space provided by the architecture of enclosure. The enclosure is that more private space in which the contemplative way is lived by a community praying, working, eating and recreating together while managing a large household. Above all it is a space that allows for those activities as they cluster around the true center of the life; prayer and praise expressed at the Eucharistic table in the Mass and in the daily round of Liturgy of the Hours. The enclosure thus supports the public prayer life of the community and also guarantees an environment conducive to a quiet and recollected way of being personally available to God.
The monastic pilgrim travels two inseparable parallel paths in a journey of self-abandonment and interior transformation into Christ; the way of prayer and the avenue that is life in community. Within the enclosure created to support and protect a life of intensive intimacy with God and intensity of relationship with a stable group, all of the functions of the monastic household are carried out twenty four hours a day, seven days a week within a fixed group of members. Unlike the nuclear family or the small group of apostolic religious living together, the contemplative monastic residence must have room for everyone to do everything together most of the time. No members will be off to a ball game or have a late night at the office. No one will go out to work. No one can arrive home after a long hard day and announce their departure to take in dinner and movie with a friend. These realities determine architectural form. The dining room and community room (living room) have to be larger than one might expect. Anyone whose work for the community requires a private office space has to have one within the confines of the monastery. The income generating work of the community, whatever it may be, will call for considerable space, the equivalent of a small manufacturing enterprise including materials storage, assembly, shipping, ordering, etc. All of the members of the community will share the work of maintaining the household. Cooking, cleaning, communication, greeting and housing guests, and scheduling, to name a few typical household tasks, also affect the need for space within the enclosure. In addition, just as the nuclear family has a role in educating its young members so does the monastic family. Like any good parent, the monastic community seeks to provide sufficient resources as well space for instruction and study to equip and inspire new members for the life they have chosen. Monastic structures are designed to provide for both this intensive life in community and the solitary search for God which is the vocation of each member.
In early efforts to find a new home for our community we visited a number of large, attractive, newly constructed homes. It was our hope that one might be suitable as a monastery. We also visited older structures originally built for active congregations of religious. Invariably we realized that each structure conformed to the rule which declares ‘use dictates form’. Private family homes, no matter how large, were built to be just what they were. Buildings designed for apostolic religious supported the kind of life they lead, a life with work outside the residence, a life in which not all members of the community would be present at any time. So fit were these buildings for their specific function that no effort at remodeling would successfully transform them into a suitable monastic structure. Arriving at this conclusion brought us to in-depth consideration of our monastic enterprise. It required us to ponder the question, “What is it we wish to protect; what is it we wish to nourish and pursue in the structure we envision?” Use determines form, not the other way around. In the end we also recognized that no mere structure will guarantee dedicated contemplative life. Thoughtful design provides suitable space, an environment conducive to prayer, a place apart. The rest is the work of God’s grace in the desiring soul.

Monday, July 13, 2009

New Blog Link

"Monastic and Liturgical"

While checking my 'hits and visits' statistics at Blogpatrol today, I discovered that Scott Knitter, another blogger about things monastic, has feeds to some things published here in the side bar of his blog. Turn about is fair play so I have decided to add Scott's blog "Monastic and Liturgical" to my links list on this page. His blog focuses on things monastic and liturgical in the Benedictine, Anglican, Episcopalian and Catholic traditions. I have a feeling that Scoot Knitter and I have mutual friends at Holy Cross Monastery (a male Anglican community) just a few miles down the road from us here in Esopus, New York.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Solemnity of the Annunciation of Our Lord

Waterhouse

Excerpt from "Annunciation"
by Denise Levertov

...The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.
She was free to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.
This was the minute no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.
A breath unbreathed,
Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.
She did not cry, “I cannot, I am unworthy,”
Nor, “I have not the strength.”
She did not submit with gritted teeth, raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.

The life of contemplative nuns is replete with opportunities for withdrawal into some sacred time, some sacred place. It is the very abundance of those opportunities which draws some souls into this life, a life in which we live together alone with God. Yesterday provided such an opportunity for me, my monthly day of private retreat. Yes, by my very entrance into a monastic community I have withdrawn from the larger society in significant ways. But life in a monastery is a communal one in which all of the nuns live, work, eat, pray and play together. This intense life in community brings all of the realities of family living into play - joy, celebration, decision-making, conflict, mis-understanding, compromise, unity of purpose, mutual love and support and forgiveness. And, as if that were not enough, it requires all the work of creating and keeping up a home and giving sustenance to body and soul. It is a tall order. Thus these monthly personal days of retreat into solitude and our annual long personal retreat of ten days are a necessity.

My day of retreat was chosen with a strategy in mind. It was to be a meditation on the eve of the anniversary of my first vows taken six years ago. The picture here of the angel's revelation to Mary and Denise Levertov's poems were used on the invitation and program for my solemn vows. Each speaks of total and free surrender to the will of God. As I walked about the landscape yesterday and meditated upon it as I looked out my bedroom window, I observed flora and fauna perfectly surrendered to God's will, bending in the wind without resistance, patiently waiting for God's sun to warm buds into opening without fear and trembling or pregnant deer basking in the sun awaiting their day of delivery.

We have much these days to disconcert us; trials and fears abound. But Mary's trust, her utter surrender -"Let it be done to me according to your word." - remind us of our recourse to the providence of God.

Among Redemptoristines, every 25th of the month is a celebration of the Incarnation, God taking on our human flesh. We will renew our vows as usual and celebrate Sr. Mary Jane's 30th anniversary of her vows, Sr. Moira's anniversary of entrance into the community twenty-one years ago, and my little six year mile marker. May we all celebrate with Mary a renewed surrender to total trust in Divine Providence.

The Avowal

As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
free fall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.

Denise Levertov
with permission of
New Direction Publishing

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Vocation Development


Here is our ad that appears in this week's issue of National Catholic Reporter. We tried to make our advertising buck do double duty; announce our community, its website and this blog AND issue our invitation for Monastic Experience Weekends. They are acheduled for May 22-24 and October 16-18, 2009. We hope that women who have felt an urging toward contemplative prayer and perhaps its expression in monastic life will be drawn to 'come and see.' Monasteries of contemplative nuns never were part of the mainstream, even the mainstream of Catholic experience. Today that reality is even more true. However, people keep buying the Liturgy of the Hours and CDs of monastic chant, are enthralled with films like "Into Great Silence", "Agnes of God", and now, "Doubt." So something continues to be 'going on.' Oh, I forgot to mention the thousands of titles that a search for "contemplative life" would produce on Amazon.com.

We are hoping that our effort will draw those who are curious or unsure, who do not want to commit yet but want to see. At the very least, we wish to educate and better yet, provide opportunity for an experience of God.

Help us in this effort by passing on this invitation. May you be blessed for your effort.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Return to Ordinary Time

Ordinary Time is Not So Ordinary



The number of poinsettia plants has dwindled. The trimmings are gone. The corner once graced by our creche scene looks pretty bare. Ordinary Time has arrived and will, by virtue of the calendar, be a bit longer this year. But that does not mean that the life of these contemplative nuns has returned to 'simple.' This Tuesday our community will have its triennial elections. Every three years, in accord with our Constitution and Statutes, a prioress, vicar (sub-prioress) and secretary are to be elected from among the nuns in the community who have professed solemn vows. For our monastery that means that nine nuns will be participating in the election; eight have sufficient years in solemn vows to qualify for the office of prioress. During these last weeks we have had a number of meetings in which, with the assistance of a professional facilitator, we have considered current realities, the gifts we individually offer to the community, and how we can best live out and promote the Redemptoristine contemplative charism.

Currently our prioress is Sr. Paula Schmidt. She could be re-elected for a second term of three years. Sr. Paula has served as prioress many times in her long life as a Redemptoristine nun. To do so is to give a great and generous gift to the community. The prioress, vicar and secretary compose the council for our monastery. They meet regularly to consider governance and make recommendations to the whole community for discussion and determination at regular meetings. This is a highly collaborative process in which individual nuns can petition the council; in which three voices on the council exchange points of view with each other; in which the total community is kept informed and has a voice in most decisions. This is the product of many years of effort on the part of wise leadership.

The election will be supervised as Canon Law requires by the Vicar for Religious of our Diocese. The Vicar also came to see us for an official pre-election Canonical Visitation a few weeks ago. Please pray that the grace and power of the Holy Spirit will penetrate our decision-making process.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Monastic Prayer - The Prayer of the Church

Bout Psalter

Immersed in the Advent Moment



The Mass and the Liturgy of the Hours together form the great, deeply rooted trunk of contemplative monastic life. This pillar of life nourishes perseverance in in the vows and devotion to private prayer. In addition, as is particularly evident in the Advent season, participation in the official public worship of the Church, provides penetrating connection with the Paschal mystery of Jesus' birth, life, death and Resurrection. To take part in these two expressions of the Church's official public worship is to be totally immersed in the meaning and invitation of these days.

The Roman Catholic breviary (The Liturgy of the Hours) currently in use was first published in 1970 by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy. Like the Sacramentary used for the celebration of Mass, its readings, antiphons, prayers, petitions and music are specific to the season and/or the feast of the day. It is amazing that these books of ritual and prayer so necessary for public worship were created and edited without the use of computers on which we so totally rely for organizational and editing assistance today.

In our monastery we are blessed to have Mass every day and we celebrate together The Office of Readings, Lauds (Morning Prayer), Midday Prayer (one of the "little hours", Vespers (Evening Prayer) and Compline (NightPrayer). In these times of prayer and celebration the ambiance of the season, its deepest spiritual significance will plunge us into the mystery of the Incarnation over and over again.

The day begins with the antiphon for the Invitatory Psalm 95:
Come worship the Lord, the King who is to come.
The first hymn of the day began:
Lift up your heads you mighty gates; behold the King of glory waits.

The first selection for the Office of Readings told of Isaiah's prophecy of the conversion of Egypt and Assyria. The second reading was one of my all-time favorites, a selection from the Proslogion by St. Anselm. It begins:

Insignificant mortal, escape from your everyday business for a short while, hide for a moment from your restless thoughts. Break off from your cares and troubles and be less concerned about your tasks and labors. Make a little time for God and rest a while in him.

Enter into your mind's inner chamber. Shut out everything but God and whatever helps you to seek him; and when you have shut the door, look for him. Speak now to God and say with your whole heart: I seek your face; your face, Lord, I desire.

The wise Bishop Anselm then speaks of how difficult this is and how hard it is to see God who is, after all, light inaccessible. But he ends with a beautiful plea, a prayer for all seekers.

Teach me to seek you, and when I seek you show yourself to me, I cannot seek you unless you teach me, nor can I find you unless you show yourself to me. Let me seek you in desiring you and desire you in seeking you, find you in loving you and love you in finding you.

These examples are only the tip of the iceberg. When the antiphons, readings, responses and prayers of the Office combine daily with the prayer texts and scripture readings provided for the celebration of the Liturgies of the Word and Eucharist at Mass, those who are blessed to participate are plunged into the life of prayer particular to this season. Every provision has been made to create the atmosphere necessary for the coming of Jesus within. We are not waiting for Jesus to be born 'out there'. He was born 'out there' over two thousand years ago. Rather, we ourselves are gestating the appearance of the Jesus within, the Jesus who is in us by virtue of his very birth in human flesh. Jesus is to come alive in us, to be unveiled for all to see.

How blessed we are in our contemplative monastic home to be surrounded by these gifts of the Church.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

The Professional Language of Monastics



Who's the "Heb" This Week?


That's "heb" with a short 'e' sound. Stands for hebdomadary. That's my job this week. Yes, even contemplative nuns have a "professionalese" vocabulary that often stumps visitors. But the "professional" language of contemplative nuns and monks is an ancient one with many strands of tradition woven throughout.

What is a hebdomadary anyway?

n. [LL. hebdomadarius: cf. F. hebdomadier.](R. C. Ch.) A member of a chapter or convent, whose week it is to officiate in the choir, and perform other services, which, on extraordinary occasions, are performed by the superiors.

In normal language this role is that of leader of prayer. The heb begins each praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in the prescribed manner and in accord with the traditions of the monastery. It is customary here for the leader to knock twice on a wooden pew or chair to signal the beginning of prayer and for most Offices to say, "O God, come to my assistance." To this the nuns respond, "Lord make haste to help me." At the first Office of our day, the Office of Readings, the leader begins with the words, "Lord open my lips" and the nuns reply, "And my mouth will proclaim your praise."

The heb also writes up the Office, preparing a sheet of directions for the Office especially if the day has a memorial of a saint or is a feast or solemnity. The sheet will also include the hymns chosen for the day. Other sisters will have other jobs at the Office. Here we call the list of these assignments the "planche".

This comes from the French influence on the foundations made from France, then to Belgium and then to England and Ireland in the 19th century. Our foundation traces its life back to England where many of the French terms survived. Thus the "planche" or the board or list of assignments.

Another puzzling word to visitors is the "turn". In old monasteries visitors spoke to a sister through a cylinder in the wall that conveniently turned so packages could be left in it by the visitor. The sister assigned to see to the "turn" would make the cylinder revolve so that she could remove the package. I have heard stories of newborn babies being placed in the "turn" to be passed around and kissed by all the sisters on the other side. Today, we still speak of the sister assigned to answer the door and phone as "being on the turn".

Being the Leader of Prayer is a wonderful gift and responsibility, only assigned to sisters in vows. It can be a great chore sometimes - like this week with the Feast of the Archangels tomorrow and three more memorials of saints. One must know how to juggle their breviary and put the correct antiphons or prayers in the right places. Sometimes I need a 'cheat sheet' to make it all come out right. But there is something very special about being the one to first break the great silence of the night by inviting my sisters into prayer. This prayer is, after all, what we are about each day of our lives as contemplatives.

Monday, April 28, 2008

A "State of the Union" for Religious Life - A Contemplative Nun Weighs In on the Issue

I am privileged to participate in a number of Internet List-servs which focus on the history of religious life and issues of interest to Catholic religious. Recently our cyber conversation has focused on the cover story of the April 6th issue of OUR SUNDAY VISITOR. The article, written by Ann Carey, was entitled "Disorder Among the Orders." I first saw this issue at the time it was hitting the homes of subscribers and the news stands at the back of parish churches. I picked it up at St. Mary's, a large, historic and very active Redemporist parish in Annapolis, MD. Oddly enough, I was there serving in my new capacity as vocation/formation director for our small community of contemplative nuns. As intended by the editors, my eyes were immediately drawn to the cover image - a photo of two traditionally dressed sisters walking down a path away from the viewer. Across the photo was splashed in large print the words "TURNING THEIR BACKS." The cover was eye-catching and, at least in my case, a bit stomach turning.

I have commented on the Internet discussion lists that I think religious get a bit myopic by virtue of our professionalism when examining such reportage. While I was galled by the misleading and opinion driven content of the piece, I was far more disturbed by the message being communicated to the faithful laity in such bold words and image. We tend to dissect this inflammatory writing from the insider's point of view, entirely rational, historically accurate with statistics to support our positions. The laity come at this from a totally different direction and experience.


It is a rather odd coincidence that that only a few weeks before the appearance of Carey's "state of the union" pronouncement regarding religious life I had written and presented my own "state of the union" message to a group of lay people gathered at our monastery. Regular readers of this blog will remember reports of our Lenten Contemplative Studies Series, three Monday night lectures on contemplative topics followed by prayer with our community.


Here is the entire text of the last of those lectures - my attempt to bring our lay friends up to date and give them a perspective concerning the current state of religious life. It was meant to give historical context, be reassuring and also to offer a bit of a challenge.





“To Pray Always” – Monastic Life into the 21st Century


After the London Times published his obituary, Mark Twain quipped to a lecture audience, “The report of my death was greatly exaggerated.

Tonight I would like to assure you that reports of the death of monasticism, indeed the death of religious life, have been greatly exaggerated. Both are alive and well, though diminished in number. Indeed, if the record of history and culture is predictive and if, as a result, artistic imagination keeps bringing monastic images to our cultural radar screen, they will never die.

Before proceeding, I want to say that this talk contains a lot more personal opinion than the others. Therefore please feel free to take what you want and leave the rest. I will also say that my opinions are not necessarily those of the management.

Across the wide spectrum of religious experience, throughout the ages and in our time there is evidence of a universal call to withdrawal – some sort of remove to silence and solitude. Native Americans on the ‘vision quest’, Muslim Sufi mystics we call whirling dervishes, Buddhist monks, Jewish Kabbalists, Hindu sannyasis, Orthodox Jews observing the Sabbath, as well as Christian nuns and monks all express this impulse by going apart. In the terms of Jungian psychology this human propensity is referred to as the monk-archetype, a contemplative dimension that is inborn, in every human being. In response to this innate dimension some seem to instinctively recognize the value of silence and solitude not only for personal well-being but for the well-being of their society. I did not see the recent public television documentary on the human brain, but my father did. He mentioned that researchers have found that a period of silence has a scientifically demonstrable beneficial effect on the brain. Perhaps this is the measurable physiological effect that some among us merely intuit.

Expressions of the tendency to withdraw in an effort to be more aware of, or commune with, the transcendent, mysterious other, or the numinous, pre-date Christianity by at least 600 years; appearing first in Hinduism and then Buddhism. In Jewish and Christian tradition, Elijah and Elisha are examples of hermits who inspired the Essenes in 1st and 2nd century BC Israel. There has been much speculation concerning the possible influence of this monastic sect on the lives of both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth.

Christian monasticism was born in the deserts of Egypt in the 3rd century AD. Hermits began to attract others gradually forming groups which developed into cenobitic or communal monastic life. By the 4th century there were Celtic hermits who were soon followed in the 5th and 6th centuries by full-fledged monasteries in what we call the British Isles and Ireland. This was also the case in Gaul, which is present-day France.

Although other seminal rules for monastic life preceded it, the Rule of St. Benedict, written in the 6th century was and continues to be most influential in terms of monastic spirituality and practice.

Any one who has studied European History or the History of Western Civilization or read Cahill’s book How the Irish Saved Civilization, knows how monasteries are credited with preserving classical knowledge while the Roman Empire collapsed and ravaging hordes invaded Europe during what is called the Dark Ages. Later, the 11th and 12th centuries were the monastic golden age in which an upswing in population and comparative peace allowed for monastic reform movements to thrive. By the 13th century which saw the rise of mendicant orders like the Franciscans, there were already hundreds of Benedictine and Carthusian monasteries in present day France and Germany.

However, if we hop, skip and jump a few hundred years to early modern Europe we come to a time when monasticism in western Europe was dealt an almost lethal blow. The Protestant Reformation of the late 15th and early 16th centuries had made things difficult enough. But during the French Revolution which began in 1789 and in the years that followed ALL but a handful of monasteries in France were closed, occupied or destroyed. At the time, with surviving monks and nuns seeking asylum in foreign countries or simply going home there seemed little hope for the future. Later political upheaval in most of the European countries often made monastic life difficult, if not impossible.

By the turn of the 20th century the pendulum began to swing the other way. And in our country it followed a particularly high arc. The great immigration of the late 19th and early 20th centuries had brought millions of Catholics into the United States. Many elements combined to energize the swing. The local church was a natural focus for ethnic Catholic people. Religious and priest from their home countries were imported to minister to them. By the 1930s and 40s these groups, after surviving the Great Depression were treading the path of upward social mobility. Ethnic and religious prejudices still made the path arduous in the general culture but the Church provided a sure and respected avenue in which to move up the social ladder. It was a rare Catholic mother or father who would not support a religious vocation cropping up in their family.

Scholars of the history of women have also touched upon a factor in this mix which may have been, if not a stated motivation, than perhaps at least an unconscious one for many young women entering religious life. Although women had been granted the vote in 1921, generally speaking, their vocational choice remained exceedingly narrow. That narrowness prevailed well into the 1960s, the period of my own college education. It was considered acceptable that if a woman had to work or if she exhibited some intellectual ability meriting education beyond high school her choices were limited to teaching, nursing, social work, maybe pharmacy or advanced training in a secretarial school. For the middle class, it was understood that this work would end with marriage and children. Furthermore, it was understood that leadership in these fields would remain in the hands of men.

Considering those societal norms, it is almost startling to see how vowed Catholic religious women, as early as the 19th century, in the name of charity and service to the poor and needy, functioned in positions generally forbidden to lay women in the same time period. Beginning with the sisters whose service as nurses during the civil war was highly coveted by doctors; to those who engineered networks of missions in large congregations across the country if not the globe; to those to headed hospitals, colleges, and boards of directors; to those who were able to sit down with bankers and negotiate huge loans for building funds in the midst of the Depression; these women found outlet for their natural abilities as leaders and organizers which could not have be exercised outside of Catholic religious life.

With such leadership and example combined with the influence of the burgeoning Catholic school system and the general feeling that to be a priest or sister was a move up both in this world and in your hope for the next, it is no wonder that the numbers of those entering seminaries and novitiates swelled to an unprecedented high.

Some of us look back to that time with a nostalgic longing, a longing for a time of such affirmation and certainty. However, my friends, we have to remember that this was, in reality, just a blip on the radar screen, a brief moment in the history of religious life and a moment that was far from perfect in every detail.

In 1960, our own sisters moved into their newly built monastery here at Mt. St. Alphonsus. In its size alone, 45,000 square feet, was reflected the expectation of large numbers seeking entrance into the community. It could hold up to forty-three nuns, included a handsome chapel and insured both the enclosure and accommodations for women flocking to the monastery. However, that very period was the cusp of great change in society and the Church. The Second Vatican Council “opened windows” and declared “the universal call to holiness.” The Feminist Movement began to open up previously unheard of opportunities for women. At the same time, the Civil Rights and Anti-Vietnam War Movements raised consciences in matters concerning justice and peace. Many factors contributed to a shrinking of the ranks in all religious communities. Women left religious life because they had to re-examine what they had considered a call in the light of a new societal, cultural and spiritual reality. This community itself remained small, never filling a huge building which could not meet the needs of an eventually aging community and was costly to maintain. Through the generosity of the Redemptorists, the community moved into this new home in 2001.

And where is contemplative monastic life today? What is the status of this life and religious life in general? We are alive and well. The invitation of the Second Vatican Council, (1962 to 1965) to revisit or, in some cases such as ours, to discover for the first time the original inspiration of the founder, was life-giving. The invitation to apply modern educational and psychological principles to the rule of life and the invitation to become more educated in the faith, to become ever more steeped in the Paschal Mystery of the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ and his Word, have brought religious to places they had never gone before to serve the poor and most abandoned. They have brought men and women into the silence and solitude of the monastery where the focus is clear, where the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience can be lived faithfully in an atmosphere which honors the dignity, maturity and gifts of the individual. Apostolic active religious are doing wonders everywhere in a manner and with a quality of such generous and sacrificial faithfulness that gives glory to God and honors the inspiration of their founders.

Unfortunately, and perhaps it is the fault of that Catholic nostalgia I referred to earlier, the general culture seems a bit schizophrenic in its attitude toward religious. On one hand, there is the play Nunsense (at which I laugh as raucously as anyone), the movie Sister Act which is and unbeatable mix of nuns and rock and roll tunes, and all manner of nun kitsch – boxing nuns, nuns having fun calendars, nun dolls, nun candles, and knick-knacks of all kinds. Out of genuine regard we want sisters or nuns to be there, to be on duty because of their generosity, their faith, their intelligence and their expertise but, at the same time, we think we have the right to tell them what they should be wearing, where they should live, and who we think they should be serving.

On the other hand, and in a very hopeful development, we admired the block-buster, Academy Award winning, Dead Man Walking. Although she dared to minister to a condemned murderer, although she wore a lay woman’s clothing, we loved how Susan Sarandon portrayed Sr. Helen Prejean. In spite of the distastefulness of it all Sarandon reminded us of the single minded dedication to the teachings of Jesus long admired in American religious women.

Last year a German documentary was shown at the Forum, an art movie theater in Manhattan. Titled Into Great Silence, the 240 minute film was a virtually silent record of the day to day life in the Carthusian monastery of the Grande Chartruese in the French Alps. The director, Philip Groning had first asked permission to make the film in 1984. But the Carthusians, the most austere Catholic order, responded that they were not ready. Sixteen years later they contacted Groning with the simple message, “Now we are ready.” The film took a jury price at the Sundance Film Festival and won best documentary at the European Film Awards. When it came to the Forum last year the lines went around the block and it was held over repeatedly. A.O. Scott, film critic for the New York Times wrote, “…You surrender to “Into Great Silence” as you would to a piece of music…but your sense of the world is nonetheless perceptibly altered…I hesitate, given the early date and the project’s modesty, to call “Into Great Silence” on of the best films of the year. I prefer to think of it as the antidote to all of the others.”

So even in the popular culture we find hope. We also find hope in the slowly increasing numbers of applications to communities and in the establishments of new communities of monastic life not only in the Catholic tradition but even among Protestant evangelicals. And in the third world religious life is blooming. While the same factors may be at play there that contributed to the serge here during the 40s and 50s, great work is being done and large congregations have become truly international. The current superior general of the Sisters of Notre Dame, a congregation well known in the United States, is a native of Kerala, India. She is responsible for 2,400 sisters ministering throughout the world.

Recently, in this country, there was a period when older women of a certain age predominated among candidates. One sister remarked that these women were about the age that all those who left in the 70s would have reached by this time. Perhaps the Spirit was filling in a vital gap. Unlike the active congregations contemplative orders never stopped accepting older women, an ancient precedent in the life.

To conclude this status report I would like to share some thought from the Benedictine Sr. Joan Chittister. Her essay, Old Vision for a New Age, was published in one of the books listed in the bibliography, A Monastic Vision for the 21st Century – Where Do We God from Here? In considering Sr. Joan’s recommendations, we have to bear in mind that Sr. Joan is a monastic but not a contemplative. The difference may not be clear. The Benedictine congregation to which she belongs follows a monastic structure and is very dedicated to the monastic life of prayer. However, they are active religious, many with apostolates outside the monastery. The sisters behind Benedictine hospital are of this type. Yet Sr. Joan’s vision has validity even within the contemplative monastic setting. This is the job description she outlines:

1. Monastic communities must become centers of reflection on the faith, centers of conscience and centers of spiritual development.
2. The monastic community must be a center of public service and a model of interfaith interaction.
3. Monasticism must be a model of equality.

In the same book of essays, Robert Morneau, auxiliary bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin, offers a more poetic description. In his view, monastic men and woman are to be models of maturity and holiness as they respond to the call to community, service and generosity.

Just as each part of the human body serves a unique purpose geared to its specific function; just as only skin cells can encapsulate our organs, just as only lung cells can absorb oxygen and release carbon dioxide; just as only heart cells can form the muscles necessary to pump blood throughout the body; contemplative monastics fulfill a vital and distinct work in the Body of Christ. All religious, but particularly contemplative monastics reside at the outskirts. We live at the margin, on the edge. As contemplative monastics we live far away from the center of the action, form the centers of power. We are like those whose restricted pocketbooks put them in the last row of Yankee Stadium or the Metropolitan Opera. We may not be at the center but we sure do have a great view. That gives us a perspective on things, a view of the total reality that is not distorted by the corruption of influence and power. And we are told this freedom is the source of our prophetic wisdom. It is also said that to the extent that we can persevere in living alone together with charity and with mutual compassion for our wounded-ness, our humanity and our diversity we offer a model for peace in our world.

Trappist Abbot Francis Kline concluded his essay To What Holiness? Monasticism and the Church Today with these words:

“The Church makes no spiritual sense without this hidden gift of total surrender to Christ and constant conversion to him. It is the Church’s wedding garment which it only partially wears when it forgets the monastic way. The Church is not its complete spiritual self without this total abandon to the love of God, this total joy of freedom of the children of God, this total sacrifice which is held us as a single ray of light, made up of all the other rays of light, which is the mystery of the Church.

Thankless, rootless, without a home here, unknown or derided, thought foolish and meaningless, the monks and nuns look out on the eastern horizon for Christ the Bridegroom of the Church, in a world still too busy with itself, still too taken up with its own seriousness. The monks and the nuns keep the Church on its toes in vigilant waiting for the Savior. The monk and nuns hold aloft the light of the mystery of the Church, still in this world, but well on its way to full communion with the mysterious God. The light shines on, but in a fog where only the intently gazing can see it.”

Monday, March 10, 2008

Last of Lenten Contemplative Studies Series

The last of the series was an overview of the history and state of religious life in general and contemplative monastic life in particular announcing that both are alive and well. For us, as a community of contemplative nuns offering such a series for the first time the response to was gratifying - people clearly on the spiritual way seeking community and encouragement.

"To Pray Always" - Monasticism into the
21st Century

After the London Times published his obituary, Mark Twain quipped to a lecture audience, “The report of my death was greatly exaggerated.”

Tonight I would like to assure you that reports of the death of monasticism, indeed the death of religious life, have been greatly exaggerated. Both are alive and well, though diminished in number. Indeed, if the record of history and culture is predictive and if, as a result, artistic imagination keeps bringing monastic images to our cultural radar screen, they will never die.

Before proceeding, I want to say that this talk contains a lot more personal opinion than the others. Therefore please feel free to take what you want and leave the rest. I will also say that my opinions are not necessarily those of the management.

Across the wide spectrum of religious experience, throughout the ages and in our time there is evidence of a universal call to withdrawal – some sort of remove to silence and solitude. Native Americans on the ‘vision quest’, Muslim Sufi mystics we call whirling dervishes, Buddhist monks, Jewish Kabbalists, Hindu sannyasis, Orthodox Jews observing the Sabbath, as well as Christian nuns and monks all express this impulse by going apart. In the terms of Jungian psychology this human propensity is referred to as the monk-archetype, a contemplative dimension that is inborn, in every human being. In response to this innate dimension some seem to instinctively recognize the value of silence and solitude not only for personal well-being but for the well-being of their society. I did not see the recent public television documentary on “The Brain, but my father did. He mentioned that researchers have found that a period of silence has a scientifically demonstrable beneficial effect on the brain. Perhaps this is the measurable physiological effect that some among us merely intuit.

Expressions of the tendency to withdraw in an effort to be more aware of, or commune with, the transcendent or the mysterious other pre-date Christianity by at least 600 years; first in Hinduism and then Buddhism. In Jewish and Christian tradition, Elijah and Elisha are examples of hermits who inspired the Essenes in 1st and 2nd century BC Israel. There has been much speculation concerning the possible influence of this monastic sect on the lives of both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth.

Christian monasticism was born in the deserts of Egypt in the 3rd century AD. Hermits began to attract others gradually forming groups which gradually developed into cenobitic or communal monastic life. By the 4th century there were Celtic hermits who were soon followed in the 5th and 6th centuries by full-fledged monasteries in what we call the British Isles and Ireland. This was also the case in Gaul, which is present-day France.

Although other seminal rules for monastic life preceded it, the Rule of St. Benedict written in the 6th century, was and continues to be most influential in terms of monastic spirituality and practice.

Any one who has studied European History or the History of Western Civilization or read Cahill’s book How the Irish Saved Civilization, knows how monasteries are credited with preserving classical knowledge while the Roman Empire collapsed and ravaging hordes invaded Europe during what is called the Dark Ages. Later, the 11th and 12th centuries were the monastic golden age in which an upswing in population and comparative peace allowed for monastic reform movements to thrive. By the 13th century which saw the rise of mendicant orders like the Franciscans, there were already hundreds of Benedictine and Carthusian monasteries in present day France and Germany.

However, if we hop, skip and jump a few hundred years to early modern Europe we come to a time when monasticism in western Europe was dealt an almost lethal blow. The Protestant Reformation of the late 15th and early 16th centuries had made things difficult enough. But during the French Revolution which began in 1789 and in the years that followed ALL but a handful of monasteries in France were closed, occupied or destroyed. At the time, with surviving monks and nuns seeking asylum in foreign countries or simply going home there seemed little hope for the future. Later political upheaval in most of the European countries often made monastic life difficult, if not impossible.

By the turn of the 20th century the pendulum began to swing the other way. And in our country it followed a particularly high arc. The great immigration of the late 19th and early 20th centuries had brought millions of Catholics into the United States. Many elements combined to energize the swing. The local church was a natural focus for ethnic Catholic people. Religious and priest from their home countries were imported to minister to them. By the 1930s and 40s these groups, after surviving the Great Depression were treading the path of upward social mobility. Ethnic and religious prejudices still made the path arduous in the general culture but the Church provided a sure and respected avenue in which to move up the social ladder. It was a rare Catholic mother or father who would not support a religious vocation cropping up in their family.

Scholars of the history of women have also touched upon a factor in this mix which may have been, if not a stated motivation, than perhaps at least an unconscious one for many young women entering religious life. Although women had been granted the vote in 1921, generally speaking, their vocational choice remained exceedingly narrow. That narrowness prevailed well into the 1960s, the period of my own college education. The view of what was acceptable was that if a woman had to work or if she exhibited some intellectual ability meriting education beyond high school her choices were limited to teaching, nursing, social work, maybe pharmacy or advanced training in a secretarial school. For the middle class, it was understood that this work would end with marriage and children. Furthermore, it was understood that leadership in these fields would remain in the hands of men.

Considering those societal norms, it is almost startling to see how vowed Catholic religious women, as early as the 19th century, in the name of charity and service to the poor and needy, functioned in positions generally forbidden to lay women in the same time period. Beginning with the sisters whose service as nurses during the civil war was highly coveted by doctors; to those who engineered networks of missions in large congregations across the country; to those to headed hospitals, colleges, and boards of directors; to those who were able to sit down with bankers and negotiate huge loans for building funds in the midst of the Depression; these women found outlet for their natural abilities as leaders and organizers which could not have be exercised outside of Catholic religious life.

With such leadership and example combined with the influence of the burgeoning Catholic school system and the general feeling that to be a priest or sister was a move up both in this world and in your hope for the next, it is no wonder that the numbers of those entering seminaries and novitiates swelled to an unprecedented high.

Some of us look back to that time with a nostalgic longing, a longing for a time of such affirmation and certainty. However, my friends, we have to remember that this was, in reality, just a blip on the radar screen, a brief moment in the history of religious life.

In 1960, our sisters moved into their newly built monastery here at Mt. St. Alphonsus. In its size alone 45,000 square feet, was reflected the expectation of large numbers seeking entrance into the community. It could hold up to forty-three nuns, included a handsome chapel and insured both the enclosure and accommodations for women flocking to the monastery. However, that very period was the cusp of great change in society and the Church. The Second Vatican Council “opened windows” and declared “the universal call to holiness.” The Feminist Movement began to open up for women previously unheard of opportunities. At the same time, the Civil Rights and Anti-Vietnam War Movements raised consciences in matters concerning justice and peace. Many factors contributed to a shrinking of the ranks in all religious communities. Women left religious life because they had to re-examine what they had considered a call in the light of a new societal, cultural and spiritual reality. This community itself remained small, never filling a huge building which could not meet the needs of an aging community and was costly to maintain. Through the generosity of the Redemptorists, the community moved into this new home in 2001.

And where is contemplative monastic life today? What is the status of this life and religious life in general? We are alive and well. The invitation of the Second Vatican Council, (1962 to 1965) to revisit or, in some cases such as ours, to discover for the first time the original inspiration of the founder, was life-giving. The invitation to apply modern educational and psychological principles to the rule of life and the invitation to become more educated in the faith, to become ever more steeped in the Paschal Mystery of the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ and his Word, have brought religious to places they had never gone before to serve the poor and most abandoned. They have brought men and women into the silence and solitude of the monastery where the focus is clear, where the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience can be lived faithfully in an atmosphere which honors the dignity, maturity and gifts of the individual. Apostolic active religious are doing wonders everywhere in a manner and with a quality of such generous and sacrificial faithfulness that gives glory to God and honors the inspiration of their founders.

Unfortunately, and perhaps it is the fault of that Catholic nostalgia I referred to earlier, the general culture seems a bit schizophrenic in its attitude toward religious. On one hand, there is the play Nunsense (at which I laugh as raucously as anyone), the movie Sister Act which is and unbeatable mix of nuns and rock and roll tunes, and all manner of nun kitsch – boxing nuns, nuns having fun calendars, nun dolls, nun candles, and knick-knacks of all kinds. Out of genuine regard we want sisters our nuns to be there, to be on duty because of their generosity, their faith, their intelligence and their expertise but, at the same time, we think we have the right to tell them what they should be wearing, where they should live, and who we think they should be serving.

On the other hand, and in a very hopeful development, we admired the block-buster, Academy Award winning, Dead Man Walking. Although she dared to minister to a condemned murderer, although she wore a lay woman’s clothing, we loved how Susan Sarandon portrayed Sr. Helen Prejean. In spite of the distastefulness of it all Sarandon reminded us of the single minded dedication to the teachings of Jesus long admired in American religious women.

Last year a German documentary was shown at the Forum, an art movie theater in Manhattan. Titled Into Great Silence, the 240 minute film was a virtually silent record of day to day life in the Carthusian monastery of the Grande Chartruese in the French Alps. The director, Philip Groning had first asked permission to make the film in 1984. But the Carthusians, the most austere Catholic order, responded that they were not ready. Sixteen years later they contacted Groning with the simple message, “Now we are ready.” The film took a jury prize at the Sundance Film Festival and won best documentary at the European Film Awards. When it came to the Forum last year the lines went around the block and it was held over repeatedly. A.O. Scott, film critic for the New York Times wrote, “…You surrender to Into Great Silence as you would to a piece of music…but your sense of the world is nonetheless perceptibly altered…I hesitate, given the early date and the project’s modesty, to call “Into Great Silence” on of the best films of the year. I prefer to think of it as the antidote to all of the others.”

So even in the popular culture we find hope. We also find hope in the slowly increasing numbers of applications to communities and in the establishment of new communities of monastic life not only in the Catholic tradition but even among Protestant evangelicals. And in the third world religious life is blooming. While the same factors may be at play there that contributed to the serge here during the 40s and 50s, great work is being done and large congregations have become truly international. The current superior general of the Sisters of Notre Dame, a congregation well known in the United States, is a native of Kerala, India. She is responsible for 2,400 sisters ministering throughout the world.

Recently, in this country, there was a period recently when older women of a certain age predominated among candidates. One sister remarked that these women were about the age that all those who left in the 70s would have reached by this time. Perhaps the Spirit was filling in a vital gap. Unlike the active congregations contemplative orders never stopped accepting older women, an ancient precedent in the life.

To conclude this status report I would like to share some thoughts from the Benedictine Sr. Joan Chittister. Her essay, "Old Vision for a New Age", was published in one of the books listed in the bibliography, A Monastic Vision for the 21st Century – Where Do We God from Here? In considering Sr. Joan’s recommendations, we have to bear in mind that Sr. Joan is a monastic but not a contemplative. The difference may not be clear. The Benedictine congregation to which she belongs follows a monastic structure and is very dedicated to the monastic life of prayer. However, they are active religious, many with apostolates outside the monastery. The sisters behind Benedictine hospital are of this type. Yet Sr. Joan’s vision has validity even within the contemplative monastic setting. This is the job description she outlines:

1. Monastic communities must become centers of reflection on the faith, centers of conscience and centers of spiritual development.
2. The monastic community must be a center of public service and a model of interfaith interaction.
3. Monasticism must be a model of equality.

In the same book of essays, Robert Morneau, auxiliary bishop of the Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin, offers a more poetic description. In his view, monastic men and woman are to be models of maturity and holiness as they respond to the call to community, service and generosity.

Just as each part of the human body serves a unique purpose geared to its specific function; just as only skin cells can encapsulate our organs, just as only lung cells can absorb oxygen and release carbon dioxide; just as only heart cells can form the muscles necessary to pump blood throughout the body; contemplative monastics fulfill a vital and distinct work in the Body of Christ. All religious, but particularly contemplative monastics, reside at the outskirts. We live at the margin, on the edge. As contemplative monastics we live far away from the center of action, form the center of power. We are like those whose restricted pocketbooks put them in the last row of Yankee Stadium or the Metropolitan Opera. We may not be at the center but we sure do have a great view. That gives us a perspective on things, a view of the total reality that is not distorted by the corruption of influence and power. And we are told this freedom is the source of our prophetic wisdom. It is also said that to the extent that we can persevere in living alone together with charity and with mutual compassion for our wounded-ness, our humanity and our diversity we offer a model for peace in our world.

Trappist Abbot Francis Kline concluded his essay To What Holiness? Monasticism and the Church Today with these words:

“The Church makes no spiritual sense without this hidden gift of total surrender to Christ and constant conversion to him. It is the Church’s wedding garment which it only partially wears when it forgets the monastic way. The Church is not its complete spiritual self without this total abandon to the love of God, this total joy of freedom of the children of God, this total sacrifice which is held us as a single ray of light, made up of all the other rays of light, which is the mystery of the Church.

Thankless, rootless, without a home here, unknown or derided, thought foolish and meaningless, the monks and nuns look out on the eastern horizon for Christ the Bridegroom of the Church, in a world still too busy with itself, still too taken up with its own seriousness. The monks and the nuns keep the Church on its toes in vigilant waiting for the Savior. The monk and nuns hold aloft the light of the mystery of the Church, still in this world, but well on its way to full communion with the mysterious God. The light shines on, but in a fog where only the intently gazing can see it.”

Monday, August 13, 2007

Sisters Retreating, More on the Liturgy of the Hours, and a Traveler's Blessing

Today three of our sisters drove to the Trappist Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts for five days of retreat. The horarium (daily schedule) of the Abbey includes these 'hours' of the Divine Office:

3:30am Vigils

6:30am Lauds, morning prayer, followed by Eucharist

10:00am Tierce

12:15am Sext, midday prayer

2:00pm None

5:40pm Vespers, evening prayer

7:40pm Compline, night prayer

Years ago I visited the Abbey and was so moved by the blessing at the end of Compline. The monks approached the Abbot two by two and received his blessing in dismissal as they entered into the Great Silence of the Night which ends at 8:00am in the morning. After all the monks were gone, the Abbot came to the visitors' section and solemnly blessed each of us. Here, in our monastery, we also receive this customary blessing from the prioress at the end of night prayer: May the Lord bless us, protect from all evil and lead us to everlasting life. Amen.

Protect us Lord, as we stay awake, watch over us as we sleep

that awake we make keep watch with Christ

and asleep rest in His peace.

Antiphon for the canticle said every night during Compline, the Nunc Dimitis (Simeon's Prayer)

************************

Here is the Blessing for Travelers we used today. You may want to adapt it for use in your family or parish.

Leader: May the Lord turn His face toward us and guide our feet into the way of peace, now and for ever.

Response: Blessed by God for ever.

Leader: Let us entrust our Sisters to the hand of the Lord. Let us pray that He will give them a prosperous journey and that as they travel, they will praise Him in all His creatures; that they will experience God's own goodness in the hospitality they receive and bring the Good News of salvation to all they meet; that they will be courteous toward all; that they will greet the poor and afflicted with kindness and know how to comfort and hep them.

All: All powerful and merciful God; you led the children of Israel on dry land, parting the waters of the sea; you guided the Magi to your Son by a star. Help our Sisters and give them a safe journey. Under your protection let them reach their destination and come at last to the eternal haven of salvation. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Blessing by the Prioress with holy water: In the paths of peace may the Lord guide you, and may He send His holy angel Raphael to accompany you on your way: that safe and sound, in peace and joy, you may return to those who love you. We ask this through Christ, our Lord.

Response: Amen.