A Nudge from the Pope

A recent "tweet" by the Pope reads:

Let us read the Gospel, a small section each day. This way we will learn what is most essential in our lives: love and mercy.

Good advice. It can be hard to to take in the meaning of large sections of the Gospel all at once and it's also a good daily discipline to establish a routine of reading the scriptures.

Pope Francis may be a Jesuit and have taken the name of the great founder of the Franciscan order, but his advice is very Benedictine. In his "Rule" (the little book which Benedictines to this day base their lives on) St. Benedict asks that we each spend part of the day in holy reading. This practice is known by its Latin name, lectio divina, and it has become a very particular way of reading the scriptures to hear God's voice. First we read a passage slowly and carefully to get the meaning; then we read it again and see what word or phrase speaks to us; lastly, we spend time in silent prayer pondering what God is saying to us now in this word or phrase. It's a way to spend time listening specifically to what God is asking or telling me today; it's a way to keep God's word fresh and active in my life.

Lectio divina is a real gift but, like any practice that we do regularly, it can seem to become just part of a routine. I'm grateful to Pope Francis for his "tweet" because it's reminded me that St. Benedict didn't ask me to do holy reading every day simply to keep me occupied but to keep me in touch with God, the gifts of love and mercy in my life, and my responsibility, as a Christian, to treat others with that same love and mercy.

Pope Francis, I want to thank you for that gentle nudge!

Karen Rose, OSB

St. Benedict, Sisters and Saints

"Listen carefully, my child, to the master's instructions and attend to them with the ear of your heart." These are the opening words to the Rule of St. Benedict which, as Benedictine monastics, we follow.

On Saturday morning (May 3), I had cause to think about what this means when I was attended a festive Eucharist at which the Bishop of St. Cloud, Bishop Donald Kettler, presided. The occasion marked the 60th, 75th and 80th jubilees of Sisters in our community. During the service, jubilarians renewed their monastic promises and I was very conscious of the level of commitment, the sheer perseverance and trust, that all those years as professed Sisters involved. These women listened with the ear of their heart when they were just starting out in life, and all these years later they were renewing their promise to keep on trying, to continue the path of seeking God according to the Rule of Benedict. Yet, these are women whom I now know quite well, and one of the things that I know is that they are very different from each other. All those years of monastic life haven't made them clones; they've each found their own unique way to follow the call that they heard. They've each worked to make the call their own, while all remaining faithful to the path they took at the time of profession.

As I've thought about our jubilarians, I've seen similarities with the two most recently declared saints of the Roman Catholic Church: John XXIII and John Paul II. These are two popes who are very different from one another, but I think everyone would have to agree that they were both holy men. Where does the core of that holiness lie? It seems to me that, like our jubilarians, they listened to God's call; they answered it ... and they remained faithful. They trusted and they persevered and each, in his own way, brought his unique gifts to the Church and gave them to the service of God and God's people.

I'm hoping the examples of my Sisters and two Pope-Saints  will help me in my journey to remain true to the call I heard from God, to answer it to the best of my ability and become the saint that only I can become.

Karen Rose, OSB

[Photograph by  Karen Streveler, OSB, shows Sister jubilarians renewing their monastic promises before Prioress Michaela Hedican, OSB]

Listen to Your Life

Photo: S. Nancy Bauer

“What exactly is LIFE?”

“What are you asking me?  Of course I know what LIFE is?”

“So is LIFE the same for me sitting here in my small room or you in a family home or on a yacht or in a hovel?  What really is LIFE?”

Frederich Buechner encourages us to listen to our life and defines life as “being WITH.”  So is it the icon on  my wall that I am with?  the books gathering dust on my desk?  the children you may have created?  the clock ticking away next to the land telephone and the stereo? or is LIFE the wide screen TV or the fragrances wafting from the kitchen stove? Or perhaps I am with the bouquet of roses on the  mantel or the sweet little kitten asking for food or the five letters in this morning’s mail asking for funds to serve a worthy cause.

YES, all of these are LIFE, my LIFE, part of the mystery we call LIFE because that is one way we can distinguish being alive from being dead. “LIFE is  being with,” says Buechner,  “all of this is in it with  us.  We’re all in it together.  Life is it.  Life is with.”  He goes on to tell of a learned lecturer and theologian who, after giving his thoughts on the topic of miracles, was asked by one of his audience to give a specific example of one such miracle. His answer was: “There is only one miracle.  It is LIFE.”  Then he asked a series of probing questions:

• Have you wept at anything during the last year?
• Has your heart beat faster at the sight of young beauty?
• Have you thought seriously of the fact that someday you are going to die?
• More often than not, do you really listen when people are speaking to you instead of just waiting for your turn to speak?
• Is there anybody you know in whose place you would volunteer to be if you had to suffer in doing so?

If your answer to all or most of these questions is NO, the chances are that you’re dead.”

WOW!  “LIFE is with.  We’re all in it together or it in us.  Life is it.  Life is with. . . “

And God, I ask myself?  Yes, God is with us, no  matter what! 

Can we be with one another and with all else that is?  That’s the bigger question.

Renée Domeier, OSB

         

Foot Washing on Holy Thursday

When it comes to the subject of "change" we humans are an interesting lot. We can vary from one end of the spectrum to the other.  Some embrace change with excitement and anticipation, some are doubtful and hesitant, and some are completely resistant to change - "not me, Lord!". I am embarrassed to admit that I more often than not fit in this last group.

At Holy Thursday Eucharist this year we had the reading of the story of the Last Supper from John's Gospel (Jn 13:1 - 15) which focuses on Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and not the Passover meal which the other three evangelists highlight in their Gospel of the Last Supper.

For years the tradition here at Saint Benedict was that twelve Sisters and guests would sign up ahead of Holy Thursday to have their feet washed by the Prioress at Holy Thursday Eucharist. This year we made a big change, one could say a complete 180 degree turn around:  rather than only the Prioress washing feet we chose to emphasize Jesus' words "As I have done for you, you also must do." As Sister Mary Weidner who gave the homily that evening told us: "Here, rich and poor, saint and sinner, educated and un-schooled, old and young, men and women - are all equal members of the one body. There are no walls, no separations, no first place and last place here." The logistics of being prepared to wash many feet that evening were thoroughly planned, every detail attended to. Several options were possible:  one could come forward and have one's feet washed by the person ahead of you and you could wash the feet of the person after you.  Or, if you had difficulty rising from the floor or from a small stool, then a sister was available to wash the feet of the person coming after you. However, nothing was more important that evening than experiencing "divine courtesy, the caress of Jesus, the absurdity of love - because our hearts have reasons that reason does not know." (Mary Weidner, OSB)

There were tender and touching moments during the foot washing in our chapel last Thurday. In case we were tempted to be distracted from the purpose of our gathering together that evening, Sister Mary reminded us in her homily that "Eucharist and foot-washing go together . . . The AMEN we say when receiving Eucharist is probably the most important act of faith that we make.  That AMEN is essentially a commitment to be Eucharist, to be present, to be involved, to be of service, to break our bodies and pour out our blood for the life of others."

May your hearts be filled to the brim with Easter Joy!

Violence Explored

For the last several months I’ve been in a questioning mode that always starts with the same phrase, “What if…”   It’s been going on for so long now that I’m wondering if it’s just an evolving thought-pattern that I might well have to learn to live with.  My most recent “What if…” is this: "What if I have a certain covert capacity for violence wired into my being?" I get glimpses of it when I hear the edginess in my voice tone when one of my friends, who lives with altered hearing, requests that I repeat for the second time what I just said. Is it their fault that they have developed hearing loss?  All the gentleness I thought was evolving within me suddenly evaporates and discloses the unwelcome face of some unnamed inner violence.  My friend’s simple invitation to slow down my speech, face her and slightly increase my voice volume so she can decipher my sentences, requires more patience than I am capable of at that moment. Aha, impatience, also known as the inability to give another the respectful time/space that they need/deserve, raises into consciousness the red flag of personal, unrelinquished violent thinking/acting,

According to Eknath Easwaran, Words to Live By, the Sanskrit word for violence is himsa.  The word for nonviolence is ahimsa, a state in which every trace of violence is removed.  What remains in this nonviolent state is our natural consciousness: pure love. Violence, himsa, expresses itself in three different ways: 1) in our deeds; 2) in our words; and 3) in our thoughts. Most of what we call violence is in the form of action.  So it is with our actions that nonviolence, ahisma, naturally begins. But as long as our minds harbor violent, himsa, thoughts, violence will find its way somehow into our speech and behavior.

I’m especially ruminating on these personal violent-actions during this Christian time of Holy Week.  I don’t exactly like what these ruminations are disclosing to me.

Mary Rachel Kuebelbeck, OSB

Sacred Heart Chapel: Timeless Beauty

S. Moira Wild, Director of the Haehn Museum

Our sisters in the early years of the 20^th century had a unique challenge and opportunity:  how to build a chapel for our monastery that would be beautiful and serviceable into the future.  How they did that is the story of the exhibit, Sacred Heart Chapel, God’s Home Among Us, 1914-2014, presently open in Haehn Museum.

Actually there are two distinct parts of the Chapel’s history—1914-1980; 1980 to the present. Both are related to liturgical practices of the time. Both are told through artifacts and photos. For instance, one example from the earlier years is the expansive elevated sanctuary floor and decorative altar; from the later years, the placement of the altar under the dome with pews for the assembly around it.  A few of the artifacts to see in the exhibit are the choir stall of the prioress, the capital of a pillar, samples of various marble, a number of the many angels in the original Chapel; and photos of the assembly in worship and gatherings in the renovated and new sacred spaces.

The visitor also learns of the decision in the 1910s to use only authentic materials—“If it says it is stone, it is stone” Community Chronicles.  One cannot but be touched by the lasting beauty that endures. The majesty of the dome, the grandeur of the marble and granite columns, the grace of the enveloping arches—all remain a significant part of the present Chapel, as do some 200 angel cherub heads on the capitals.  It is comforting to know that these cherubs, all with mouths open in song, have been with us for 100 years, and will continue to be silent partners in worship into the future.

Haehn Museum is located in the Art and Heritage Place at our monastery.  The exhibit will be open until December 23, 2014.

Dolores Super, OSB  

Official opening of the exhibit - April 27 at 2 pm
Visitors welcome to preview the exhibit now 

Who Says ...?

Lectio divina, the Benedictine practice of prayerful, sacred reading takes many forms. If you like questions that have more than a yes/no answer . . .if you love nature, children, and poetry . . . if you walk slowly and gratefully through our wondrous world,  you can find God speaking all around us.

I recently experienced God speaking both in words and pictures  through Joan Hutson's questions and illustrations in her book, Who says “Twinkle” to the Evening Stars . Listen to the questions she asks of children (or full-of-wonder adults) as she brings a profound message to their/our searching minds and heart:

        

  Who says to the morning sun “Rise, now, night is done . . .”

          Who says “Bloom” to the flowers here and there, and watches over them  
           with loving care . . .

                                        

          Who says “Rain” to the little cloud, and tells the thunder “Not too 
           loud . . .”

          Who says “It’s time for rain to go and time to make a big rainbow . . .”

           
          Who says “Blossom” to the little plum tree . . . and who says “Ripen”                     to the plums you  see . . .  

                                        

          Who says “Hatch” to the egg in the nest . . . and starts a little robin on the 
          quest . . .

          Who says “Fireflies turn on your lights . . . and give the night surprising           sights . . .”

          Who says to the waves on the shore “Just this high and no, no more . . .”

          Who says “Scatter” to the milkweed seeds . . . so in the Spring we’ll                        have beautiful  weeds 

                                         

          Who says as the days grow colder, “Autumn leaves, turn brighter and                   bolder . . .”

          Who says “Stars, stars, send down My love on all who below are looking               above . . .”

          Who says to the little snowflake, “I design each one of you I make . . .”

          Who says to you and me “I love you unconditionally . . .”

          Who?

          GOD!

          Thank You, God . . .

 Renée Domeier, OSB

Original illustrations by Joan Hutson