Comtemplative Arts

Header photograph - Main Altar, chapel of Mt. St. Alphonsus Retreat Center, Esopus, New York

The Holy Face

Image Not Made by Hands

Icon Writing Retreat/Workshop

In its intensity and its demands for personal discipline and dedication traditional iconography is a metaphor of the spiritual journey. I never expected to return home so elated and so tired after six eight hour days in the icon studio.

I was among four rank beginners in a group of fifteen, many of whom had returned time and time again for this experience of immersion in icon writing taught by Sandra June Hofstead.

It was a great delight to find that the icon chosen for me was that of the Holy Face, an image of Jesus. What better subject on which to concentrate and meditate for the week! St. Therese of Lisieux had as the predicate of her religious name "of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face." There are photographs of her holding this image and these days some icons have been painted in which she holds the icon in her hands. The "image not made by hands" is part of ancient Byzantine tradition and is spoken of in liturgical prayer as "the image presented to King Abgar of Edesa." Jim Forest, in his wonderful book Praying with Icons, explains further: "According to legend, the first icon was made when King Abgar of Osroene, dying of leprosy, sent a message begging Jesus to visit him in Edesa and cure him. Hurrying toward Jerusalem and his crucifixion, Christ instead sent a healing gift. He pressed his face against linen cloth, making the square of fabric bear his image. The miraculous icon remained in Edesa until the tenth century, when it was brought to Constantinople. Then, after the city was sacked by the Crusaders in 1204, it disappeared altogether."

In the western Church this depiction of the face of Christ on cloth is connected to the story of Veronica (which, by the way, means 'true image') who offered her veil to Jesus to wipe away the blood and sweat on his face as he carried the cross to Golgotha.

My effort at reproducing this holy icon appears here. It was painted in egg tempera on gesso applied to an icon board made of poplar wood. It is gilded in gold leaf. When it is oiled in another month it will appear to have taken on a new life of its own. It has been blessed only with incense and awaits a full blessing with holy water and oil of chrism once the finish has dried.

Icons have been described as doors to the sacred, windows opening to the mystery of the Incarnation, and revelation of Transfiguration. They are works of tradition, silent images that teach theological truths without attention to more modern artistic techniques and, above all, both the fruit of prayer and the invitation to prayer.

The moment of the process which was most moving for me was the step in which one has to bring themouth very close to the surface of the icon without touching it. Then a deep breath is taken and breathed heavily on to the icon, the same way you do when cleaning eyeglasses. This act of breathing hot, moist breath onto the icon places just the right amount of moisture on the surface of clay and glue mixture that has been painted onto the places that will receive the tissue paper thin gold leaf. It must be done over and over again because you can apply only about a square inch or so of gold at a time. As I breathed on the halo of Christ's image it felt as if I were breathing life into Him, bringing Him alive. I remembered the priest forcefully breathing the words "Hoc est enim corpus meum," (This is my Body) over the elements of bread and wine in the Latin Mass. And I connected with the charism at the heart of my own contemplative life, the call to be a "living memory" of Jesus Christ, to be His life in this world.

Here is the link for Sandra Hofstead at St. Elijah Icon Studio:

http://homepage.mac.com/barefoot_princess

A Special Memory for All Nuns - The Day of Entrance

Noli Me Tangere by Maurice Denis

This may be a simple Sunday in Ordinary Time but for me it remains the Feast of Mary Magdalene. I entered this monastery only seven years ago on this date. It was a Saturday, an endless Saturday, it seemed because I was not to arrive here until 5pm by which time my family (three sons and one daughter-in-law joined by my mother, father and sister) would assemble for the brief ceremony of entrance, sung Vespers with the community and then my last dinner with family in the guest dining room.

After morning mass in my parish church I enjoyed breakfast with friends at a favorite place and then tried to make the rest of the day move along with last minute packing and a householder's last cleaning effort coming from nervous energy. (God knows that the house, inhabited by two bachelors and a variety of friends hasn't seen much cleaning since!)

The ceremonials were not without nervousness either. My parents did not approve of this move of mine and, without a doubt, I worried about my sons, especially the unmarried ones. Was I deserting them? Was I letting them down? It was a time when things were particularly unsettled in Israel and my father noted prayers for the peace of Jerusalem included in the Palms of that evening's Office. He may have been disappointed in my choice but he paid attention to every word and action.

The community provided a lovely dinner along with wine for our last toasts and good-byes. It wasn't forever. My parents are an hour's drive away and my youngest sons only 20 minutes from the monastery. But in another way, it was forever. Things would never be the same for any of us; new levels of relationship, independence and dependence, love and respect and cherishing.

When the date of July 22nd had been settled upon, I felt it a blessing that it was the Feast of the Magdalen. For a long while I had felt an attraction to her and with this turn in my life I called upon her to be the patroness of my incorporation into this community of women as one who knew the experience of being an outsider, of wanting to join with others in support of Jesus, of faithfully and loving him and following him and, in the end, being the one to receive the announcement of his Resurrection and the commission to become Apostle to the Apostles. She seemed to have mastered the art of being lovingly and attentively present to Jesus while integrated into a company of women.

About eight months later at the end of my ten day in-house retreat just before becoming a novice, I received a note from the Prioress. "Do you have any request regarding your name in religion." My note of response read, "As if the name Hildegard was not sufficiently daunting , and if the line on the necessary document is long enough, I would like the name Hildegard Magdalen of the Resurrection." With great joy, I received just that name the next day when I appeared at Morning Prayer in Redemptoristine red and wearing a white veil.

Leave for Icon Writing Retreat this evening with great anticipation.

How Can Contemplative Nuns Take Retreat?

An Icon Writing Retreat
(Icon by Mary James)

Don't recall mentioning this before but I do think of myself as an artist of sorts. There must be something in the familial DNA. My mother trained in fashion design and discovered a particular gift for water color in her 50s which she has exercised to the pleasure of many into her 80s. Used to tell her to clean less (she is a spotless house keeper - no DNA carry over there) and paint more.

My middle son, Matthew, whose drawing tops each episodic addition to "my story" (see archives for "When Mothers Become Contemplative Nuns"), is also an artist. When he was in 4th or 5th grade he could spend hours drawing a space shuttle, registering every rivet in its plated 'skin.'

My brand of artistry has been expressed in all kinds of needlework. Don't remember learning how to crochet. Have just always been able to do it. Knitting, needlepoint crewel, counted and not counted cross-stitch all followed. But in 1975 I was introduced to quilting and fell in love. More about that affair at another time. Just before entering the monastery I was lured into spinning wool by a group of avid knitters who assured me that I just would not fully appreciate the fiber arts until I learned to spin. It is very comforting to know that each of St. Teresa of Avila's nuns had spinning wheels in their cells. She would approve of mine.

Years ago too, perhaps out of the same DNA that made Matthew want to place every tiny rivet in his picture of the space shuttle, I was attracted to pysanky, Ukrainian wax resist dyed Easter eggs. After all, if I could do fine hand quilting certainly I could draw those intricate designs on eggs. Perhaps that art form was my introduction to things Orthodox, Eastern European in flavor, leading the way to a natural affinity for the icon form which was becoming so popular in spiritual circles.

Then I met Mary James, the painter of the icon shown here. She is a true artist who can draw anything and works in varied media all with great success. I can never, never attain her skills - my particular strain of DNA only goes so far. But she made me want to try it as I have tried and enjoyed and been blessed in the doing by so many other crafts and art forms. Now my community is giving me a chance to bring that desire to realization.

This is a retreat and not just a workshop because in the true tradition of icon writing the work gradually emerges not merely from the media but from the aura of prayer, the unceasing prayer of the iconographer in an atmosphere of silence and reverence. I have asked my sisters to pray that, regardless of the quality of the end product, my effort alone will be something beautiful for God.

Contemplative Nun Blogger Responds to Comment

Given all of the typos in my response to Kate as a comment on my last post, I've decided to correct them and publish those remarks here. Kate was very complimentary in her comment to the second post concerning contemplative prayer which focused on its fruits. Internet media seems to be the way of the future in communication. Unfortunately, technological skills do not come to monastic contemplatives at a pace that keeps up with the speed of developments on that front. When I entered the monastery seven years ago I came with word-processing and library automation skills and that was about it. Thanks to a wonderfully skilled woman who spent time in our community I learned a great deal - enough to give me the push to try to set up this blog on my own.

No, we have not used the Internet as much as we could. It all takes time. The learning curve and interest varies from person to person. The beginnings of our website are accessible at the Metropolitan Association of Contemplative Communities link on this blog. (See the side bar for links.) The site is very much 'under construction' but a great beginning an will give anyone a good idea of who we are and what we are about.

I have just spent a couple of days revamping our own vocation and informational brochures taking advantage of the templates offered in MS Publisher. What a difference that makes. And we are about to format materials that can be sent via e-mail.

I have noted with interest that the national organization of vocation directors, those in communities who deal directly with prospective candidates, are beginning to sponsor workshops on blogs, My Space pages, etc. We are paying attention. But like everyone else, we are trying to do more with less, fewer resources, fewer people. But the Spirit continues to work powerfully among us, even if we do not understand how.

Contemplative Nuns Celebrate Feast

Header photo - Main altar, Chapel of Mt. St. Alphonsus Retreat Center

Esopus, New York

Feast of the Most Holy Redeemer

July 15th is the patronal feast of both the Redemptoristine Nuns and Redemptorist Priests and Brothers (respectively the Order and Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer). It no longer has a place in the general calendar of the liturgical year but we are able to celebrate it as a solemnity since it is Proper to our spiritual family.

At Easter time we celebrate Redemption as an historical event. This feast puts before us the deep mystery of Redemption, its universal significance. It stresses those aspects of the Redemption which lie outside the scope of history, namely the love of the Father who gave us his Son, and the love of the Son, giving himself up in our place.

He has sent deliverance to his people

and established his covenant forever.

Antiphon, Evening Prayer I

Our Constitution and Statutes begin with a section taken directly from the original inspired Rule of the Order received by Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa, our foundress. It is a seminal text for us and is referred to as "The Design of the Father." This the Redemptoristine 'take' on the mystery of divine redemption.

From all eternity, by the virtue of a plan born of His mysterious and utterly

gratuitous love for us, God wishes to call us to live in communion with Him,

to give us His Spirit of love so that He might constantly live with us and in us.

So, when He judged that the time had come,

He sent into the world His only Son in whom He had had loved and chosen us

from the beginning, and predestined us to become His adopted children.

Through His life of complete humility, by his death on the cross,

by His glorious resurrection, Christ has saved us and set us free.

He has revealed to us the love of His Father and has made us able

to know Him and to respond to His love.

And it is through Him, glorified at the right hand of the Father, that we

receive the Consoling Spirit who gathers us together and helps us to live

in unity.

Having become truly children of the Father, through the Spirit, we receive

in the Son, life, holiness, truth, and all divine grace.

Constitution and Statutes of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer

Chapter 1, No. 3