ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

Silence is a participation in the world to come,  a participation in  eternity, in God’s simplicity, a great Mystery beyond words. Love seeking me is the reason for silence. The monk's wonder-filled response to God’s seeking is the silence of love and the longing to be absorbed in wordless, quiet rest in the presence of the One who loves him. Those in love need not say anything. They want simply" to be with," to be  agendaless , resting in each other's presence. God longs for our openness, a great empty space within us, an emptiness that is not nothing but is availability. In silence I can notice God noticing me. In practicing silence, allowing silence, allowing the empty space, I make an open space for God.  Ancient statue of Saint Benedict brought from the monastery of Our Lady of the Valley in Rhode Island at the time of Spencer's founding. Photograph by Brother Daniel.

With their whole beings the angels are servants and messengers of God. Because they ‘always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven’ they are the ‘mighty ones who do his word, hearkening to the voice of his word.’ Christ is the center of the angelic world. They are his angels: ‘When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him.’ They belong to him because they were created through and for him: 'for in him all things were created in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or authorities - all things were created through him and for him.' They belong to him still more because he has made them messengers of his saving plan. From the Incarnation to the Ascension, the life of the Word incarnate is surrounded by the adoration and service of angels. When God "brings the firstborn into the world, he says: 'Let all God's angels worship him.' Their song of praise at the birth...

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ; that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich.   2 Cor 8   In Christ Jesus our Lord God most high has become most low, most lowly, wounded, vulnerable, e ver disguised in the distressing face of the poor and always at the door, though we are so liable to miss him.  A drowsy complacency is always a temptation. How will I notice the poor one very near that I may find repugnant? Who is the ignored or forgotten outcast in my world? Like Saint  Vincent de Paul   whom we remember  today, we want to be more and more attentive to the poor in our midst.

A rich man is hosting a dinner party. He and a few special friends are reclining on cushions, as platters of exquisitely prepared food are presented for his approval. Servers bow and exit; courses follow one after the other. There’s silly chit-chat, bursts of laughter and a good deal of belching. The food is, after all, very good; and there’s lots of it. Now huddled at the door is that beggar Lazarus, he’s always in the neighborhood; he’s no trouble at all; doesn’t ever bother anyone. It’s just that he’s infected and covered with sores. Sometimes they get so itchy; he even lets dogs lick them. (And everyone knows where a dog’s tongue has been.) Keep your distance, Lazarus is definitely unclean. If anyone dares come close enough, Lazarus always extends an open hand waiting for something; truth be told he’d be happy to have a few scraps left on the floor after one of these banquets; but no one’s offered.  How the poor who followed Jesus must have loved hearing him tell this stor...

Padre Pio spent much of his priestly life under suspicion, false accusation, endless investigations and censure. His reputation for holiness came not from the fact that he bore the wounds of Christ's Passion but because of his docility, humility and obedience. He was able to make the words of Saint Paul his own, "I have been crucified with Christ....I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me." Meditation by Father Emmanuel.

Talk of Satan or the Evil Spirit may make us uncomfortable, frightened or superstitious. But it is simply part of the reality of our life in Christ. For if we desire God, deeply desire Christ Jesus, desire to belong to him, to choose his way, then simple logic will tell us that the unclean spirit, the Evil One will want the opposite. The Evil Spirit wants to distract and confuse us and draw us away from the Lord, drown out his tender voice and invitation. But Jesus’ power in us through the Spirit is utterly opposed to the power of the demonic; his voice, his promise is steady, lovingly tender even as he challenges us to be more. Photograph by Charles O'Connor of sunset over the Abbey church.

Faced with dismissal for mismanaging his master's resources, and without further options, truly with his back to the wall, the wily steward in today's Gospel concocts a strategy for survival that will actually further deplete his master's resources. And amazingly his master commends him.  H e so values this steward's resiliency and effective action that he praises him  for acting shrewdly-  literally in the original Greek of the text- "for being wise."     Jesus has told us that those who hear his words and put them into action are like wise people who build their houses on solid rock. Winds, rain, floods will not be able to make that house fall. Those who are wise survive the storms. The "take-away" from today's Gospel story is clear. When the followers of Jesus realize that their spiritual life is threatened, they must act wisely and decisively in order to survive. The dishonest manager has been wiser in his deviousness, than we ofte...