ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

In the presence of the Angels, joining them in their endless praise, we gather over and over during each day to raise our minds and hearts to God. We beg the Lord that our voices may  fittingly join with theirs.  As our Constitutions remind us, even while on earth  we are to be  "citizens of heaven," and "strangers to worldly behavior." In our life of solitude and silence we long for the "interior quiet in which wisdom is born."

Each day in the Eucharist Jesus gives us infinitely more than we could ever deserve- his very self, his sacred heart, his precious body and blood. The best we can do is simply, joyfully, most gratefully open our hands and receive this Gift. Learning how to receive this Gift, how to open our hearts to be transformed by this Gift- this is everything.

So many write and call and drop off messages requesting our prayers for family members, for friends, for their own needs. We are humbled, and we place these requests on the bulletin board at the southwest corner of the cloister. We pass the board over and over during the day and are reminded that our praying, truly our lives belong to Christ and his Church. We remember that  "the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.   And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because   the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God." In our praying as in all else, we learn that we must depend on the Lord who wants the good we desire much, much more than we know.  Photograph by Brother Daniel. Scripture quotation from Saint Paul's Letter to the Romans, 8.

It is that in the final scene of today's Gospel when the foreman doles out the pay that we are witness  to the extravagant compassion of the landowner, (a cipher for the extravagant mercy of our God.) All the workers, even the last ones who worked for only one measly hour, receive a denarius. Aware of their need and the desperation of their situation; the landowner knows that less than a denarius will be not enough for a man and his family for a day. And he wants them all to go home happy and satisfied. Now that’s not fair; it’s excessive.  But if we were part of that last crowd who had worked for only an hour, we’d be overjoyed at the landowner’s outlandish generosity. How often I murmur because things aren’t fair. And true enough it’s the constant plea of psalmist and prophet, “Why is it Lord that the way of the wicked prospers? Why is it that you let the sun and rain and all good things come to the just and the unjust?” It’s not fair. But the good news is God’s Ki...

There are many trails on the Abbey property that the monks use for contemplative walks. From time to time these paths must be cleared of fallen trees and brush. Here we see Brother Matthew Joseph at work.  Photographs By Brother Anthony Khan and Brother Jonah.

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. As we hear Saint Paul's words,  Love is patient,  we remember that our love must wait patiently. A life lived in wonder, in patient loving and loving prayer, waiting on the Lord, waiting on His divine pleasure, such a life is what we have professed, promising to be totally available to Jesus, to one another, and ultimately to his Body the Church. We have given ourselves over to a relationship of patient love, promising to go the distance. But how shall we tolerate- bear patiently, lovingly- the ordinariness of God in Christ, the ordinariness of one another ? How shall we remember to love patiently and kindly and give as Christ J...

As the Church celebrates today a memorial in honor of Our Lady of Sorrows, we recall often images of Our Lady collapsing in Saint John's arms as Jesus breathes His last on the cross. Perhaps she was braver than that. As Mother of God, Mother of Jesus, she feels with God; she compassions  with God, empathizes with Christ's sacred wounded Body even now. Yes even now Mary, given by Jesus to all his beloved disciples as their Mother, feels with us all the aches and sorrows of our hearts and minds and bodies. She is Mother of Compassion, with us always; His sorrows, her sorrows and our sorrows are one. Virgin and the Man of Sorrow , detail, Simon Marmion, c.1485, oil on panel, Groeninge Museum, Bruges, Belgium .

In Christ we never have to look back with regret, pining with melancholy to recapture what we have lost, or sorrowfully longing to undo what cannot now be undone.  In Christ, nothing that is truly precious in the entire experience of our lives will ever be lost to us.  Everything good and love-worthy and dear to us from every minute of our whole life’s experience is safely stored in the Heart of Christ for us to encounter and enjoy again in God’s good time. Alive in Christ, living his own life by his gracious Mercy, every day we can, if we want, again become “like newborn babes”, wholly enjoying the present moment offered us (that and that only, for only that is real), wholly occupied with drinking milk from the breasts of Christ’s consolation and sharing that milk with every other thirsty person we know. Do you think for a moment that he, the eternal Wisdom of the Father, is ignorant of the endless deaths that continually gnaw away at our hearts, souls and bodies?...

We rejoice as we celebrate today the Name of Mary, a name we call on when we are in distress. We remember someone years ago railing about Mary’s feast days: “I don’t understand what they all mean. They give her too much, make her too privileged.” We like to imagine what Mary’s response to him would be, maybe something like this, “I was, I am, as amazed as you are. All I can tell you is that the Almighty has done great things for me. He has looked on his servant in her nothingness. This, this alone is why all generations have called me blessed. It has little to do with me; it’s all about Him, His pleasure, His delight in my nothingness.” Clearly to be distracted by Mary’s privileges would be to miss the point. For her story, is our story, individually and as Church. For the Virgin Mary of Nazareth shows us our true self- as total capacity for God in Christ. She shows us the exquisite, breathtaking beauty of our own virgin-self, as totally available to God. Now certainly we co...

today special tolling of the abbey bells remembering and praying for peace for an end to terrorism for forgiving hearts Photograph by Charles O'Connor.

Jesus is real flesh and blood, resurrected and still here with us; and his place is always with the downtrodden and needy, for he is small like them. And this morning once again he pronounces God’s blessing on human poverty, a promise of blessing for all who are oppressed. Commentators remind us that the Greek word for “poor” in the Beatitudes means literally “beggar” not just a poor person with a few possessions, but a beggar. *  The truly poor are those who have nothing at all; the poor are those who have no choice. As monks we want to take our place with them. In some way our poverty is all we have to offer the Lord. There is too much- so many things exteriorly, more so interiorly; and we may feel like we are stuck with it all. In the monastery we become more and more keenly aware of the reality of our very real inner woundedness and poverty and our desperate need for Christ, a need, a longing to be mercied continually.  But this poverty is everything to us; it is al...

We monks love Our Lady and rejoice to celebrate her birthday. We go to her with all our needs and place ourselves in her keeping. Domenico Ghirlandaio, The Birth of Mary , detail, 1486-90, Fresco, width 450 cm, Cappella Tornabuoni, Santa Maria Novella, Florence

We all need to be won over, for, as St. Paul says, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” The question is: how are we won over? From what and to what are we won over? The gospel mentions two ways. First, there is the individual witness of others: sometimes with persuasive and reasoned arguments; sometimes with fiery emotion; sometimes with silent and long-suffering example. These individuals are trying to call forth the best in us, and their insistence can move us to conversion. Then there is the communal witness of the Church. At times this witness comes with an authoritative word filled with objective truth – and rather bluntly. Sometimes it comes with the gentle tact and earnest care of a mother, encouraging us to take another path. We need both these witnesses. But from what do we need to be won over? Ultimately, we need to be won over from hardness of heart, a hardness that plugs up our ears. That is the root of the problem: hardness of heart that manifes...

Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold. Too much sadness, far too many tragedies are there in the newspapers that are put out on the large table in the solarium of the monastery, a common gathering room. Too much death and suffering- martyred Christians, flocks of refugees, too many parents cradling wounded children, countless innocent people, far too many soldiers killed. We monks see the photographs, read the stories; our hearts are opened. So much to pray for; too much sadness. Our Constitutions assure us that our Cistercian monastic life has a “hidden apostolic fruitfulness,” assure us that, though we cannot see, our praying is efficacious. We feel helpless; we believe but so often do not understand. Our wounded and risen Lord Jesus is our only Hope. He hears our prayer. That is enough.  Crucifix of Fra Innocenzo da Palermo, 1637,  Assisi, Convento di San Damiano.  Quotation from an essay by W. B. Yeats.

While the crowd was pressing in on Jesus and listening to the word of God,  he was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret.  He saw two boats there alongside the lake;  the fishermen had disembarked and were washing their nets.  Getting into one of the boats,  the one belonging to Simon,  he asked him to put out a short distance from the shore.  Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.  After he had finished speaking,  he said to Simon,  “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.”  Simon said  in reply,  “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing,  but at your command I will lower the nets.” Lk 5 “But at your command…” So much seems frustrating; too often hitting the wall of my stubbornness and selfishness. “But at your command,” with you beside me,   in my boat,  I can move forward. At your command I will continue out into the deep, and lower my nets, trusti...

We can imagine a typical Sabbath in the synagogue at Capernaum- people gathering, greeting one another; small groups of men in conversation, perhaps a few women; younger men entering and giving each other a nod. And then they all notice the possessed man coming in. Weariness, some irritation. “Why does his family even let him come here?” The younger men are grinning at one another, a couple of winks, as they recall a recent Sabbath when this guy blurted out an embarrassing truth about one of the elders. They loved that. This ought to be good, they think. What he will come out with today? Then Jesus enters. Some recognize him too. He sits with them, speaks a word, and teaches them simply, clearly, lovingly- not from on high but as friend and brother. For many this is a moment of astonishment as they hear his word of truth and feel their hearts broken open. They close their eyes, their heads lowered. Then it happens, you-know-who starts up: “What have you to do with us, Jesu...