ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

The 23rd Psalm is the ambient music surrounding this morning’s Gospel. Words we know so well: The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. Fresh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose; near restful waters, he leads me to revive my drooping spirit. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for he is with me… This cherished image, perhaps banalized by overexposure in song and art, nonetheless shines out as an enduring description of who God is. The ineffable One whose name could not be spoken by the people of Israel, would be fittingly, repeatedly described as Shepherd. Jesus appropriates this imagery for himself, boldly, lovingly, “signaling his consciousness of his Messianic role.” This is the Father’s will for him. And so Jesus tells us, “I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Because he understands his vocation as beloved Son, he senses that this reality is coming true in him. Isr...

In the poignant story of the disciples of Emmaus we see the Church’s Easter faith grow through the way in which Jesus speaks of himself. Faith is not given to us once and for all, as if it were a wrapped gift that we only have to open and then enjoy. Faith is a  living  reality, and therefore something  organic  in us that either grows or dies. In this Emmaus story we see very clearly how—in the initial relationship of these two disciples with Jesus— faith and doubt, joy and sadness, enthusiasm and discouragement, coexist side by side.  Here is the true existential situation of the Christian believer in this world.  How wonderful that God understands our shakiness so well! Just because we declare ourselves Christians, and perhaps half-consciously boast of possessing an unshakable faith, we cannot (without becoming hypocrites) deny the dark and uncertain aspects of our hearts. In this present time of our earthly life we Christians, too, are tossed about li...

This morning’s Gospel begins dark and somber, a story of dashed hopes and disorientation. Two disciples walk along despondently. We thought he was the One; but look what happened. Everything fell apart. They leave Jerusalem, the holy city, the scene of tragic crucifixion. What they do not yet understand is that it has become the scene of God’s greatest triumph.   Then Jesus himself shows up, just another Stranger on his way out of Jerusalem. But they’re so stuck in their confusion that they cannot recognize him. Jesus listens, interested in what’s weighing on their hearts. Why are you so sad? What are you two discussing? What are we discussing? Cleopas asks in exasperation. Are you the only one who doesn’t know what happened? Gee, no. What? says Jesus. (Probably one of the more comical moments in all of Scripture.) He the risen Lord riddled with the holes of his passion, plays dumb. He knows the story alright; it’s written all over his body, even into the depths of his pierced he...

  Blessed Maria Gabriella, a Trappistine of the monastery of Grottaferrata in Italy, died on this day in 1939 at the age of twenty-five, less than two years after her simple profession, having given her life for Christian unity. While not all of us are called to give our lives as Maria Gabriella did, we are all called, by the logic of our vows and of the Christian life in general, to the same totality of self-gift in love, to the same sensitivity, availability, and responsiveness to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. In union with Maria Gabriella let us pray for the unity of Christians. And through her intercession may we too have some share in her interior freedom, courage, and generosity. Meditation by Father Timothy.

“If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” Br. Guerric, it may seem a little odd to preface this solemn moment of your vows with this holy warning, but it may be one of the most important words from “a father who loves you,” namely, St. Benedict. Hardness of heart is the main obstacle to receiving God’s mercy, which you have just requested. It refuses to admit that it is wrong or needs God. So, if mercy is your goal, you have come to the right place, for the Cistercian life is precisely a remedy for hardness of heart. But how does Cistercian life soften up the hardness of our hearts? In short, our Fathers designed it to demolish self-will. Who doesn’t want to sleep in whenever he wants? Who doesn’t want the freedom to ignore church bells? Who doesn’t want to be his own man rather than live under a rule and an abbot? In other words, who doesn’t want to do it his own way? But in the Cistercian life, Jesus shows us the great good of doing it the Father’s way. That means conver...

          Earlier this week we heard St. Peter say: “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.” In a way, this is what we are asking in this anointing of our sick and elderly brothers. It is a special kind of service, like the washing of one another’s feet at the Mandatum. We are bringing our faith, hope, and love to embrace our brothers, praying for their welfare; and our brothers are bringing their faith, hope, and love to us by becoming a sign of the Lord’s suffering among us.           St. James urges those who are sick to summon the priests to pray over them and anoint them in the name of the Lord. The priests make this prayer in faith, trusting that the Lord still wants to heal as he did in his lifetime. However, all of us must hold fast to our faith that the Lord’s word never returns void, but achieves the end for which he sent i...

  Jesus’ death is torture for me! I prefer his life to his death.... While he was alive, he brought only three dead persons back to life. Now, thanks to his death, all the dead come back to life, and trample me as they rush out through the gates of hell. The 4th- century monk-poet St Ephrem the Syrian puts these words of grievance into the mouth of Death personified. Death is finally aggrieved! Alleluia! These inspired words express well the fear that troubles priests and Pharisees the day after Good Friday: “This last imposture would be worse than the first”, they say. At the very moment they believe they have finally gotten rid of Jesus, the authorities too sense how much more dangerous he might be dead than alive. Without realizing it, these staunch defenders of tradition are the first to experience the disruptive novelty imposed on Death by this dead man. Death is now robbed of the ability to silence its victims by plunging them into the “land of forgetfulness” (Ps 88:13). Alle...

Despair dispelled, fallen world felled, our Lord risen, beheld—on the road, on the shore,  to more than 500 of his brothers and sisters.  Woman,  why are you crying? two angels, smiling. Fresco by Giotto. Poem by Michael Crawford.

It has been a long week, from Palm Sunday to this Easter vigil. We have seen and heard marvelous things, good and bad. But one thing has puzzled me: where was the Holy Spirit in all this? It is not only the Father who seems to have disappeared in the final days; where was the consolation of the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised his disciples? Where was the Paraclete to stand by his side and deliver him from the Sanhedrin and Pilate? Where has the Spirit been? The blessing of the new fire was an important reminder for me: the Holy Spirit is with us, alive and active. Fire is a symbol of the Holy Spirit. We take from the new fire and light the Paschal candle and our little candles. We come in the darkness of night, to find him whom our soul loves. And he will be found, for the light and fire of the Holy Spirit which “searches everything, even the depths of God,” will point him out. Why is fire an apt symbol for the Holy Spirit? Because fire purifies; it overcomes resistance; it consumes. W...

Something strange is happening - there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silent because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh... We pray in hope and keep watch in the stillness of this holy day. Lines   from an ancient homily for Holy Saturday.

          In a moment we will listen to the dirge that accompanies the procession of the cross. One phrase that stands out for me speaks of Jesus being robed in “the purple robe of mockery.” Mockery is the underlying motif of the entire passion narrative. It is a key element of the scandal of the cross.             From the start, the religious authorities used mockery as a means to discredit Jesus. That was the authorities’ goal: to discredit Jesus among the people. The mockery began in earnest before the Sanhedrin: false accusations, spitting, blindfolding, slapping, and striking him. It continued with the devious strategy to paint Jesus as a political rebel, playing on the fears of the Romans and making a kind of mockery of the normal Roman justice system. The Roman cohort then added its own mockery with a royal crown of thorns, a purple robe, a reed used as a scepter, and then as a rod to strik...

          “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! These words of St. Paul are appropriate for the great mystery which we are celebrating today—the institution of the Eucharist. In this sacred meal, Jesus reveals his deepest self and opens a door into the depths of his heart.             In recent days we have heard Jesus say, “The hour has come for the Son of Man,” that is, the hour for Jesus to die. He knows it; it is inevitable. The conflict between him and the religious authorities is unresolvable. The authorities are convinced that Jesus is a blasphemer and leading the people astray. Jesus, speaking on behalf of his Father, calls them once again to embrace the reign of God of which he is the representative. This conflict is the context in which Jesus chooses the Passover meal to make present all that he is, all that he loves. This Passover meal will become his way to show his l...

  ...keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader, and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him, he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. This joy is sturdier than all sorrow because it echoes the joy of Jesus’ own Heart and springs from our vision of Jesus as God-sent Messiah and Savior. Now is the world’s salvation taking place, always the burning desire of Jesus’ Heart. Though he has to go through the depths of human suffering, Christ embraces his Passion  joyfully because of what it will attain: universal reconciliation of all God’s children with the Father and fullness of eternal life. The first and last word this week is going to be the same: joy, though in between we will have to experience passing sorrow, dismay, and sadness. But ultimately, there is no such thing as “Christian tragedy” because “love is strong as death," and divine love always triumphs in the end. The Man o...

We know that foot washing was something a Gentile slave could be required to do, but never a Jewish slave. Foot-washing was typically something wives did for their husbands, children for their parents, or disciples for their teachers.  Perhaps Jesus was inspired to wash the apostles’ feet at his Last Supper with them because he had been so touched by what was done for him at Bethany. There at home with his dear friends  six days before Passover, Mary of Bethany took a liter of costly perfumed oil and anointed Jesus' feet most tenderly and then dried them with her hair. Was this something that inspired his own most loving action on this night before he died? I like to think so.  Jesus has called his disciples his friends, and when he washes their feet he overcomes the inequality that exists between them.  He does what love always does. It defers, it gladly lowers itself.  Peter cannot bear the thought of his teacher washing his feet. I imagine it was something ...

                During our procession, we heard the gospel relating Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. It concluded with these words: “…the whole city was shaken and asked, ‘Who is this?’” That is the question we face this week: “Who is this?” that is entering our city, our church, our inner space? Jesus comes with his answer. He is waiting for ours.             “The whole city was shaken…” because a crisis was brewing. Jesus had set his face like flint toward Jerusalem, and the rulers of Israel had set themselves up as a bulwark. As Jesus saw it, he had no choice: Jerusalem was the center of Israel; the Passover feast was the center of Jewish worship; the whole people of God were represented by the pilgrims; this was the moment for a final decision: Was the reign of God breaking in through the person of Jesus, or not? The crisis had reached a head. It was no wonder that “…the whole city w...