Do You Have A Jim in Your Life?

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I pray that you do…have a Jim in your life, that is.

Jim was his name. Inspiration was his point. Inspire was the gear he shifted into throughout all of life. Teacher by trade, he was, and teacher is what he lived. Example setter, dad, husband, and infuser of possibilities is what his smile resonated when he looked upon others.

He lived a full life according to the words printed on paper. His obituary was solid enough, but if you knew him at all…it was in 3-D that you saw those words which all but jumped off the page. You see, his life was more alive than the words in print and truth-be-told, it wasn’t even about Jim. Rather, it was what Jim knew within the Word he read that made him who he was.

I met Jim after he’d retired from teaching, and long after he’d traveled abroad to faraway places. By this time, his family was mostly grown, yet they remained central in his life. When I first saw Jim, he was behind a kitchen serving line, serving with a smile that resonated hope at a Bible Camp which could have easily been named after him, Inspiration Point. With his wife, Ellie, of many years, they were an inseparable team. They worked as one welcoming the stranger.

With a strong embrace of a handshake or a nod of the head, he encouraged campers, staff, and all whom he served…while smiling. Funny thing is I don’t remember him speaking much but rather, faithfully living love. It was as if he was girded with a strength far deeper than the eye could see.

His white hair hadn’t always been that color, you know…but symbolic it was. Like salt pouring out of the shaker, he touched tens of thousands in ways everlasting. You see, he knew well the legacy he was leaving on this earth and that none of it was about him. No, it was not about him. Rather, it was about his desire to lift up and inspire others to live for the very same Jesus who not only shed light in this world but who shed His very blood.

What could Jim possibly live that hadn’t already been lived through the love of our Lord, Jesus Christ? There was nothing more Jim could live out, and he knew it. He could not add one more ounce of anything to what had been done on that cross. Therein was the secret to his smile, and the point of his passionate desire to inspire.

Jim’s secret was not to replace anything that had been done, but rather to confidently resonate that which the Lord Jesus Christ was living through him. He knew his source. Jim knew from where his strength came. He did not lean onto his own understanding, but in all his ways acknowledged Him so He would direct Jim’s path (Prov. 3:6).  

Grateful Jim was as he made his plans and allowed the Lord to direct his footsteps (Prov. 16:9).

Jim was a man after God’s own heart, like David. He lived by example, confessed with a contrite heart, and knew he was fully human while the God he served was fully divine.

Jim knew the Divine as he readily prayed how the Lord had taught: “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” (Matt. 6:9-13).

May Jim live on in us…only to the extent that like Jim, we get out of the way in order to make way…so He might make a way through His only begotten Son who lives and reigns both now and forever. 

“The Lord reigns, He is clothed with majesty; the Lord has clothed and girded Himself with strength; indeed, the world is firmly established, it will not be move” (Ps. 93:1). Amen.

Kathleen Kjolhaug, OblSB

This blog was first published on Theology in the Trenches, written and maintained by Oblate Kathleen Kjolhaug. Reposted with permission.

Woven Together

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Tonight [October 16] was Sister Roberta Werner’s wake.

Sixty-one years ago, we sat in a circle of 35 young women aspiring to become monastics.

In June of 1959, 20 of us became novices.

With Roberta’s death, six women remain monastics of our original 35. Some have died, others answered God’s call to different parts of the vineyard.

My heart was full as I saw women accompany Roberta’s body into the chapel.

Suddenly, my mind was captured by a kaleidoscope of memories woven into the present:

I find my place as a postulant right by the huge granite pillar on the left, as a novice and junior in Schola. Benedict—teenagers we were, and now women we have become—each woman coming into chapel is a heart tug—each one, in some way is still, or newly, connected to the 35 of us in 1959—our hopes and dreams, our lives lived out. Benedict—at the center of it all.

Ora et labora—washing dishes and changing diapers, prayer in the 70s—short stops to saying “hi” to the Divine when toddlers tugged at my skirt or cried in my arms. Benedictine women who came before me and all of us together—here right now! Learning Hospitality—a shortcut to welcoming all races, all religions, all gender orientation—no exceptions.

Singing broke through my reverie. How I have missed monastic liturgy.

Many young faces 61 years ago fade in and out of my thoughts. Where are you, my sisters? Our lives are truly woven together in inexplicable ways. I no longer can name you, but I linger on your images as Roberta’s eulogy is being given and memories from those days are spoken. We’re all there and we’re all here, Roberta. You brought us together.

Don’t you dare rest in peace. Keep on making us laugh and bringing us together.

Pat Pickett, OblSB

Connections in the Amazon

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As you are reading this blog, the Pan-Amazon Synod of Bishops is in session in Brazil and will be running until October 27. Called by Pope Francis, we can be sure he is encouraging the bishops from Brazil, Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, Guyana, Peru, Suriname, Venezuela and French Guyana to focus not only on the specific concerns of these nine countries, but on the connections this Amazon area has on—literally—the entire hemisphere and beyond. About 2.8 million people, speaking 230 different languages, inhabit this territory which extends across the unimaginable expanse of some 3,728,227 miles of land. What is the meaning of those statistics and/or the connections between regions, to say nothing of the Amazon basin currently devastated by fire, mass movements of people forced out of their homes into urban areas or the effects of deforestation that have affected the climate across our hemisphere! There is no doubt that this ecosystem is currently being disrupted by floods, extreme temperatures, fluctuations affecting anyone’s ability to earn a living.

So what does Pope Francis, author of Laudato Si (Care for our Common Home), suggest? That the Bishops remember that everything is connected; that each of us is responsible to each other; that we must discover—together—new paths for the Church in the Amazon region to promote an integral ecology and, therein, to find ways for the Christian community to respond to injustice, poverty, inequality, violence and exclusion! Does this surprise us, knowing Pope Francis’ repeated emphasis on the fact that care for creation can never be separated from all other aspects of Christian life?

Let us pray for the Pan-Amazon Synod of Bishops...

Renée Domeier, OSB

A Sacred Goodbye

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I am here alone with my mom. The old hymns she loved are playing quietly. Mom is resting quietly covered with one of our homemade quilts. Most of the grandchildren, great and great-great grandchildren have been here this weekend to say their goodbyes. This alone time with mom is a special time for me. I can pray the rosary and she will move her lips to the words. Praying seems to calm her. Alone with her, I can also tell her all the good memories of days gone by we shared. With humility, I can ask for forgiveness for the times I may have disappointed her. It is a time of sacred goodbyes.  

Mom is transitioning from this life to her Father. After 96 years of a deep and lasting faith that sustained her in good times and difficult times, she is leaving us. Raising a big family, juggling farm work, housework and raising a family of seven, she deserves to rest. Yet, as I hold her hand and she looks at me, I sense the difficulty letting go. After all, she has been the backbone of our family and I am sure she thinks about what will become of us when she is no longer here to guide us. It is what most mothers probably think about when leaving their children behind.  

How blessed am I to witness this most sacred journey as my mom goes from this life to everlasting life. Our family has spent the last days wiping away tears, reminiscing about our childhood and laughing together. Small children toddle around the room, touch mom’s hand and wonder where grandma is going. I know mom can hear us as we talk and I know she is enjoying the stories and action. But now, in the quiet, with her to myself, I am blessed to feel the Divine Presence sitting and remember all she has taught me. She was an example of Benedictine values before I ever became an oblate. Work, prayer, stability, stewardship, humility and hospitality I learned at her knee.  

The window is opened just a crack for fresh air, as mom loved to be outdoors, but also in an old tradition of freeing the soul to take flight to Heaven. As she makes this journey, I will do what I can to make her last days a sacred goodbye.  

Mary Baier, OblSB

Whatever Happened to Sunday?

On Saturday, September 28, I had the opportunity to be part of an Oblate Retreat Day. The subject was most intriguing: “Whatever Happened to Sunday?”

Sister Ephrem Hollermann of Saint Benedict’s Monastery was the presenter. She first explored the topic with her audience, a group of approximately 65 oblates from St. Paul’s Monastery.

She asked her audience to consider what they did last Sunday? Could anyone even remember, because that was 6 days ago. Because of our busy lives, we can barely remember what we did 6 hours ago, much less 6 days.

To add the dimension of further reality to the situation, S. Ephrem went on to describe what a few contemporary writers think of present-day Sunday activity. Indeed, the bulk of their comments attributed the lack of Sunday rest to economic issues. In a society so fueled by the industrial nature of American life, Sundays are rarely sacred.

On another note, S. Ephrem asked the oblates to consider the impact of nonstop busyness on ourselves, our families, our friends. How is our health affected by our constant activity? The audience shared some of these effects as anger, fatigue and a sense of harried living.

Of course, S. Ephrem was not trying to guilt anyone, but she was trying to help us all reach the conclusion that yes, we lead busy lives and no, we cannot go back to another time when Sundays were treated as Sabbath rest.

However, what we can do is restore “Sabbath rest” by taking time more often to experience shorter times of rest, maybe by taking half a day to go to the park for a picnic supper, for example.

Or, maybe once a month, we could intentionally arrange to make Sunday truly the Lord’s Day—a holy day of rest, renewal, delight and blessing.

Mary Jane Berger, OSB

Pay Attention to How You Listen

“Pay attention to how you listen!” Jesus tells his disciples.

We hear a similar admonition to us from the Rule of Benedict: “Listen with the ear of your heart.” In Benedictine lectio divina (sacred reading), we practice holy listening. And, I would say all real listening is holy. We begin with listening to the word itself with our ears, making sure we really hear it. In this continuum of listening, we then bring the mind’s eye to see it, then we listen to how that word resonates within our heart, and the fourth step of listening is when we really shut up and let that deep, deep mind within us listen without word or comment. At this point we are at rest, yet our deeper self continues in a deep listening. It is here where the listening is beyond all words. It is that silent listening where we are changed. But it does not end there.

Can we listen to one another in the same way? Jesus’s admonition to listen to one another requires paying attention to how we listen to one another. As lectio is sacred listening, so real listening to another person is sacred. As God opens our hearts to speak to us in lectio, so God opens our hearts to listen to another person. When we listen to one another, we are changed and so is our world.

Jesus’s admonition is clear: “Pay attention to how you listen!” Even in the most ordinary conversations with another it takes an awareness, an openness and an internal silence that is a godly attention. It takes time. We say in our culture, “Time is money.” Benedict and Jesus say, “Time is people.”

Charles Preble, OblSB

Simple Living

Have you ever wondered how someone like Francis of Assisi found meaning in his life by stripping himself, not only of clothing, but of riches that could have supplied him a better shirt, or slacks, or shoes? What did he find as he walked through Gubbio? He found the sun, the moon, the rain and even a wolf that needed comfort from a thorn in its paw!

Or how could St. Paul find meaning and even joy in prison? And love enough to keep on writing some of his best letters to the Christian communities around the Mediterranean?

Mother Teresa as well! How did she manage to be faithful to the dying poor in spite of questions about the limited value of her long hours of serving them?

These are but three examples of stripped-down servants who found their lives meaningful, in large part, because of the small amount of luggage they had to lug around! Rather, they found their treasure in those they served, not in what they owned!

Some among us literally suffocate from too much stuff! Too many distractions, an overload of noise and ceaseless activity. We become overwhelmed, distraught, yes, suffocate!

Why do we consume so much? Buy so much? Go so much? Where is our lodestone? Our soul? Our inspiration?

Huge, attractive, orange storage buildings, across our cities and country, await our extra knick-knacks, furniture, bicycles, suitcases, toys that we may need—we tell ourselves—sometime in the future.

Can we even imagine St. Francis of Assisi, St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta or St. Paul doing what they did and lugging all this stuff from one place of ministry to another? I, for one, cannot!

To live simply, to serve, to seek peace and pursue it, as St. Benedict advised his followers, seems to demand sandals, perhaps a staff with readiness to walk toward and within a call, willingness to leave all things behind in following that call!

“We’ll give away our stuff tomorrow,” we say to ourselves, while turning another calendar year and storing yet one more box of stuff  in our rented storage spaces! Being 75, 85 or 95 doesn’t change our perceived “need” to amass or store “stuff” nor can we imagine that the relinquishment of such might be the requirement for finding peace, sanity and the joy of breathing freely, of appreciating what is simple, beautiful and what is truly needed—one another, God, ourselves, what is right next to us, and even within us!

Renée Domeier, OSB

Grandma

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What are some memories you have of your grandma? I remember how different my two grandmas were, one more fragile, the other active and strong, yet both were faithful women who loved their families and grandchildren. My mom is grandma to 19 grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. They are the light of her life and vice versa. When the older ones call to visit, it brightens her day. They seek her wisdom as they ask for advice or share with her what they are doing at work, school or socially. Grandma listens attentively, asking the questions about a new job or adventure, especially if it involves traveling. I love to say several of my nieces inherited her “passport gene.” She loves to share the experiences of her younger days, bringing her memories to life again through a story. Grandma loves the little ones, watching them grow up, speaking their first words or taking those first steps; she notices it all.

Mom, grandma, is 91, yet you would never know it by her social life. Attending Eucharist and Liturgy of the Hours every day, followed by coffee with friends, a game of bridge or attending her monthly book club, it can be hard to find her at home. I learned from my mom the importance of prayer. Liturgy of the Hours and Eucharist are the foundation of my life as a Benedictine sister. 

If you would like more information about Saint Benedict’s Monastery, please contact Sister Lisa Rose at lrose@csbsju.edu.

Lisa Rose, OSB