Trying New Things

Because God makes all things new (Revelation 21:5), it stands to reason that we should find room for the new in our lives as well. Here are a few of the things I did for the first time in 2019:

• Gave a talk on journaling at a conference (the Novice and Director Institute)

• Became director of the Atchison oblate group

• Read the noon prayer and introduced guests in the dining room

• Helped hang the Christmas wreath over the choir stall railing in the choir chapel (without hyperventilating)

• Made pumpkin gingersnap cookies (which weren’t good enough to make the cut for next year)

• Proclaimed the first reading from the Prophet Isaiah at the Christmas Eve mass (“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light….”)

I don’t presume to know why God chooses to make all things new. However, doing new things is a good practice for humans because it helps keep our brain healthy as we age, allows us to develop courage, forces beneficial change, teaches us humility, and opens our heart to gratitude.

May we all cooperate with God’s work in making things new in the coming year!

Perseverance in the Work of Christmas

The Rule of St. Benedict states that candidates are to be admitted to the novitiate only if they promise perseverance in their stability, and the counsel of patience is found throughout the Rule. However, it is not only monastics who understand the power of perseverance.

Consider the achievements of French chemist and bacteriologist Louis Pasteur, who has saved countless lives through his discoveries that most infectious diseases are caused by germs and that weakened forms of a germ or microbe can be used as a vaccine to immunize against more virulent forms of the microbe. Pasteur freely shared the key to his success when he said, “Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal. My strength lies solely in my tenacity.”

As we stand on the cusp of a new year, let us make a commitment to practice perseverance, especially in our efforts to do the work of Christmas, as identified by Howard Thurman: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, and to make music in the heart.

The Messiah We Need

As we grow in age and wisdom, we can be grateful for the times we did not get what we prayed for: the job that would have consumed us, the relationship that would have scarred us, the fame that would have swelled our pride. Similarly, at Christmas, we can be grateful that God did not send humanity the type of messiah we had longed for—a military warrior who would destroy our enemies and bestow power, glory, and wealth on the downtrodden.

God did not send us the messiah we wanted but the one we needed: a man anointed to teach us that the height of being human requires humility, whole-hearted love of God, reverence for all life, gratitude, and forgiveness of ourselves and others as we walk our earthly path together.

At Christmas we celebrate the birth of this very human messiah. After Christmas, our challenge is to remember and honor God’s words that echo through the ages: “This is my beloved son. Listen to him.”

How We Confer Blessing on Others

In the gospels, Elizabeth is mainly identified as the improbable mother of John the Baptist. Apart from the miraculous conception of her famous son, however, she has much to teach us about how to be true to who we are in a world that often bullies people with limitations or differences.

Elizabeth was childless, and in her culture, that condition was believed to be a punishment from God. Thus, in the midst of her own grief about her inability to conceive, Elizabeth had to deal with the humiliation of being judged and shunned by her community. As Diana Guédry Gaillardetz notes, “In a culture that condemned her and saw her life as meaningless, Elizabeth could have recoiled into silence or lashed out in bitterness. Instead, she remained faithful…[and] chose to spend her days drawing near to God, focusing on what she could do with her life.”

People who are bullied often are desperate to overcome what makes them different. If only they knew that God’s life flows when we are true to our essence, even when that has been shaped by virginity (Mary of Nazareth), infertility and old age (Sarah/Hannah/Elizabeth), short stature (Zaccheus), and so on. It is by being who we are that we are able to confer blessings on others. And because it is in God that we live and move and have our being, who we are is just fine.

Seeking Silence

Last Sunday we received 6 inches of snow, and when Sr. Barbara Smith returned from a sledding excursion, she marveled, “It’s so quiet out there!” This quietude wasn’t in her imagination; fresh snow absorbs sound, because the trapped air between snowflakes weakens sound waves.

Unless we live in a snow globe, we can’t rely on fresh snowfalls to quiet our world. However, we all have access to volume control buttons that allow us to mute or turn off our televisions, stereos, and computers. Most of us have access to a bedroom or study where we can close the door to outside distractions. Even the smallest town has a park, cemetery, church, or library where we can find blessed silence and solitude.

One of the joys of Advent and Christmas is beautiful music, but we must make space for the silence out of which music is born. Similarly, if we truly wish to listen and incline the ear of our hearts, we must place ourselves in the silence out of which God’s quiet voice will issue.

Creating a Contemplative Advent

Advent is intended to be a meditative season. However, many of us end up rushing through the weeks before Christmas to accomplish all the items on our to-do list and end up feeling more frazzled than centered.

Instead of feeling guilty about not creating more time for prayer during Advent, we can instead take the approach of doing our tasks in a contemplative spirit. For example, I have learned from experience that when I attempt to multitask while baking cookies, something will get burned or I’ll forget whether I added salt or baking soda to the dough. On Saturday, I decided to follow the advice of Sr. Imogene Baker: “Be where you are and do what you are doing.” Baking ended up being a surprisingly meditative and calming experience as I focused on each step in turn. As a bonus, the cookies turned out great.

We can put ourselves in a contemplative state of mind by focusing on our breath as we inhale and exhale, playing some meditative music, or silently reciting a repetitive prayer as we work. Mainly, however, we can remember that how we live out Advent is our choice: in a frenzy of activity or with a prayerful, calm spirit.

Peeling Back Scabs of Cynicism

In his book Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim, Fr. Ed Hays talks about asking God to “…peel back the scabs of cynicism from my eyes so I might see your holiness ablaze at the tip of every branch and alive in every autumn leaf.”

To be cynical is to be distrustful of human nature and motives. Because we witness so much greed and corruption in the world, it is easy to succumb to cynicism. However, Advent calls us to reject cynicism as we anticipate our annual celebration of the birth of God made flesh.

God affirmed the human capability for goodness by choosing to dwell among us in human form. Yes, many people who have made gods of wealth, power, and fame behave despicably. Yet many more people reflect God’s goodness in their basic decency, love of family and friends, care for others and the earth, and instinct for kindness. Let us seek them out and together celebrate God’s love.

This Advent, don’t let the cataract of cynicism prevent you from seeing the holiness that is ablaze throughout the universe!

Encountering Delight

Keeping a gratitude journal is a common spiritual practice, but how many people keep a journal of delights? The poet Ross Gay decided to undertake a yearlong experiment in learning to notice by writing about a particular delight he encountered each day. This experiment resulted in the publication of The Book of Delights.

Delight, which comes from the Latin word delectare, “to allure,” shines light on the things that lead us to gratitude. Unfortunately, in our fast-paced world, allurement has dimmed because we seem to have lost the ability to slow down and take time to see dust motes dancing in sunbeams, the remarkable color of homemade plum jelly, or the texture of tree bark standing in relief against a gray winter sky.

Psalm 149:4 tells us that God delights in his people, which means that God takes the time to see and know the beauty and goodness within us.

This Advent, will we allow ourselves to be allured by silence, prayer, and anticipation so we can delight in the presence of Christ in our world and welcome Emmanuel with grateful hearts?

The Call to a Numinous Reality

Both John the Baptist and his cousin, Jesus, preached about the need for repentance. However, whereas John was motivated by the desire to help us escape God’s imagined wrath and vengeance, Jesus wanted to help us reestablish a relationship with a loving God who waits for us when we drift away.

John and Jesus had a different understanding of God. Jesus had numinous vision—that is, he was filled with a sense of the presence of divinity. It wasn’t so much that Jesus brought the kingdom of God to us; Christ (and thus the kingdom of God) had existed for all time. What Jesus did was open our eyes to God who was already present among us. Our response to that presence is awe, profound gratitude, and the desire to serve those in need of healing. In this way, we become participants in the revelation and unfolding of God’s kingdom.

As persons who live in community, we attempt to help each other maintain this numinous vision. When Emily Bauer entered the novitiate on December 7, Sr. Esther Fangman offered the following thoughts:

One might say that we as a Benedictine community try to live an embodiment of the divinity already present among us. We try to become a place where the mysterious presence of the divinity can be found by how we live. We do fall short—yet this is what we want to be. And Emily, we are asking you to live here in this numinous reality with us. Be influenced, be changed, be vulnerable, and we will work each day to do the same so that God may be found. 

Yes, we are called to repent—not because we are sinners in the hands of an angry God but because our preoccupation with our own desires keeps us from seeing God who is always with us and responding to the love that God forever offers us.

The Beginning and End of Every Path We Take

For the past six months, the Mount has been blessed with the companionship and assistance of live-in volunteers Marty and Tami Rymarz. Marty and Tami’s story illustrates what happens when we listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Their study of the Rule of St. Benedict as oblates of St. Benedict Monastery in Oxford, Michigan, led them to discern that their lifestyle (which included demanding jobs and upkeep of a large house that left them little time to devote to their faith and family) didn’t match their values. Therefore, in May 2018 Marty took early retirement from his job as an engineer at GM and they bought an RV and trailer, sold their house, and gave away most of their possessions. They spent a year traveling and then were drawn to share in the prayer, community, and work of the Mount.

Yesterday we blessed Marty as he departed for a short-term consulting job in St. Charles, Mo. I was struck by the first line of the blessing: “Gracious God, you are the beginning and end of every path we take.” We often are aware of God’s presence as we begin a new path, but sometimes we feel alone when we come to the end of our current path and experience the sadness of completing a chapter of our life. It is comforting to think that God is present at those times of transition as well and is patient with us as we prepare for the new life that always awaits those who are in relationship with the One in whom we live and move and have our being.

Whether we are at the beginning, middle, or end of our current path, gratitude for blessings received and for the companionship of our loving God will always be our sure guide.

An Advent Fast

In our society, the weeks before Christmas seem to be associated more with feasting than with fasting. However, if we consider Advent to be a time to make space for a fuller expression of God in our lives, then fasting is an important tool we shouldn’t overlook. Consider these words by Mary C. Earle in her book The Desert Mothers:

When we fast (whether that be from food or noise or busyness or buying too much), our fast is not only for our own health and deepening love: it is offered for the life of the world. When we fast from mean-spirited conversation and from the need to always be in control and think ourselves to be right, we are allowing open space in which God’s healing silence can bring forth something new, if we give it time and care.

If, as I’ve heard it said, God dwells in the space between two people, then fasting from criticism and gossip creates that space between me and my sister where God can dwell. Mary of Nazareth most certainly practiced fasting from the desire to be in control and from doubt and fear, for her “yes” to the angel Gabriel created the space for the Spirit to dwell in her womb between her own being and that of her son, Jesus.

What newness will God bring forth in your life this Advent if you give fasting the time and care required to create open space within you?

An Advent Call to Spaciousness

People who are feeling discontented or vaguely depressed are often counseled to do some volunteer work. Helping others seems to lift us above our own limited perspective and makes us more aware of our own blessings.

Advent performs this function for Christians. During Advent we are called to make space for God in our hearts, which entails clearing away our preoccupations and often petty concerns. Advent points away from us to God, and what a relief it is to focus on something other than our worries, judgments, and pursuit of self-gratification! When we stay focused on God rather than ourselves, we are better able to see the many blessings that have been ours all along.

Mahri Leonard-Fleckman notes that in Isaiah 11:2, “fear of the Lord” connotes deep reverence, awe, and respect “and is the king’s ultimate ‘delight,’ a word that translates literally as ‘wideness’ or ‘spaciousness.’” Advent invites awe of Christ, who became flesh out of love for us. That awe leads to a spaciousness in our understanding of our purpose, our giftedness, and the way we are called to interact with others.

As you clear a space for God this Advent—whether that entails doing a service project, giving alms, making a retreat, or lighting candles in prayer—may you experience the reverence that leads to delight, gratitude, and a spaciousness of spirit.