ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

And some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit.  It came up and grew and yielded thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold.  He added, “Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.”   Mark 4 The seed is the Word of God, Jesus himself. In his Incarnation he has fallen into the soil of our humanity, our lowliness. Humus is the Latin word for soil and is the origin of the word humility. In the rich loamy earth of our sometimes-bitter self-knowledge, we are on the ground, in the humus of our reality. It is in the lowliness of this truth, that we realize who we are, what we are, who we long for, who it is we need. Jesus always comes to meet us down there. Photograph by Brother Brian.

Beginning with First Vespers this evening, we celebrate the three founders of the Cistercian Order, Saints Robert, Alberic and Stephen. Their ideal was a more authentic monastic simplicity and evangelical poverty. On 21 March in 1098, Robert, abbot of the Benedictine abbey of Molesme, France set out with twenty-one of his monks to the wilderness of Cîteaux to begin a new reformed monastery. By 1100 Robert had been called back to Molesme and Alberic was made abbot. We are told that Alberic had a tender devotion to Our Lady and received the Cistercians’ characteristic white cowl from her. Stephen Harding, an Englishman, succeeded Alberic as abbot and composed the  Carta Caritatis , a kind of constitution which binds all the monasteries of our Order to a common observance of rules and customs.  These early monks of our Order wanted to be “poor with the poor Christ” and are said to have been “lovers of the brethren and the place.” We pray that we may be true to their example a...

Each day as we begin our celebration of the Mass, we know enough to confess our sinfulness. As we recall our sins Saint Francis de Sales would recommend the following,  “… when you have fallen, lift up your heart in quietness, humbling yourself deeply before God because of your frailty, without marveling that you fell; there is no cause to marvel because weakness is weak…”  We need not be surprised by our sins, God is not, he only delights to be merciful. Let continually open to him and the mercy he longs to lavish upon us.

On this Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children, we beg the Lord to stretch our hearts, that we may reverence life, life from conception to natural death, life in its mystery and givenness .  "By definition, a gift cannot be demanded; it can only be received graciously as a sort of surprise," Bishop Barron tells us. With open hands and grateful hearts, we accept the gift and promise respect, wonder, awareness of its beauty and gratuitousness. We dare not misuse or take life away, as if it were our possession. Roses and Lilies, Henri Fantin-Latour (French, Grenoble 1836–1904 Buré), 1888, Oil on canvas, 23 1/2 x 18 in. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Used with permission.

" Though harshly treated, he submitted  and did not open his mouth;  Like a lamb led to slaughter  or a sheep silent before shearers,  he did not open his mouth. " These words from the prophecy of Isaiah echo in our hearts today, as we see John the Baptist point to Jesus and proclaim,  “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.  He is the one of whom I said,  ‘A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me,  because he existed before me.’   Jesus is Lamb, the Servant of God who will bear the sins and guilt of all God's people out of love. We have been cleansed in the Blood of this Lamb.  Holy Church tells us that Jesus came to this world in the midst of universal silence: “While gentle silence enveloped all things, and night in its swift course was now half gone, Thy all-powerful Word leaped from Heaven, from the royal throne.” The first thirty years of the life of Jesus were wrapped in an impressive silence....

We recall the story of a monk who dies and finds himself before the judgment seat in heaven. Angels solemnly carry out the tapestry of his life. He looks in horror at the faded, threadbare tapestry. There for all to see is the tattered reality of his sinfulness- the broken silences, harsh words spoken, petty jealousies, regrettable secret sins all right there. He lowers his head in remorse and embarrassment and calls out for Our Lady’s help, “O Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, our hope.” Mary quickly comes to the monk’s rescue. She steps forward and whispers instructions to the angels. They reverse the worn-out tapestry and turn it upside down. Then with her finger Mary traces the outlines of her Son’s wounded face in the tatters. At the beginning of a new year  The New York Times  and other papers often publish the  Year in Pictures , a collection of telling images from the past twelve months. Probably each of us has our own collection, our own interior y...

John has been so busy dunking people that he hasn’t noticed the next person in line. Quietly Jesus steps forward to be baptized, his head lowered. Jesus smiles shyly, perhaps with a slight wave. John stops, looks around, then leans in close to Jesus and whispers, “Ah, what are you doing here? Please don’t do this. Get out of here. I’m not doing it; I’m not baptizing you. If anything, you should be baptizing me.” Why is Jesus here of all places? He has nothing to repent of. Why would he choose to do this? Perhaps it is that he couldn’t not do it. That’s what he’s telling John. And so, his response is tender and insistent, “Please allow it now, for in this way we will fulfill all righteousness.” Simply put, he who is Love could do no less - God wants it. Jesus has so identified himself with all his people, that he wants to be with them, to do with them this awesome covenantal moment. He must be there, there in the water with them, with us. For he is reconciling the world to himself...