ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

We recently received an account of the Abbot General's summer visit to our monastery written by his secretary, our Father Simeon. We include this excerpt:  A cursory visit to the St Joseph’s Abbey website and its photos should confirm for you that it is one of the most beautiful monasteries in America.  What is astounding is the fact that it was built at record speed between 1950 and 1952, mostly by the physical labor of the monks themselves.  At that time these were very numerous and generally very young, as well as full of good zeal and enthusiasm.  The then abbot, Dom Edmund Futterer, himself an artist of impeccable taste, very much believed in the Beautiful as an efficacious path to God.  Therefore, in consultation with other monks in the community who had a knowledge of monastic art and history, such as Fr Laurence Bourget and Br Blaise Drayton, Dom Edmund decided upon a design for a monastery that would at the same time be inspired...

As yesterday we celebrated the apostles Simon and Jude and all during October we have remembered so many of the Church's martyrs who suffered so much, we recall that as monks we too are called to make a radical gift of all that we are and all that we have for Christ and his Church. We are humbled; we pray to be faithful and steadfast. May He who has invited us continue to grant us his grace and mercy that we may persevere. Photographs by Brother Brian.

In today’s Gospel we hear a classic Wisdom literature motif- two ways, two attitudes. The wise person must choose rightly between the two. It seems clear, perhaps too obvious, which way Jesus is inviting us to follow, for  t his morning’s  parable is pointedly addressed  “ to those who were convinced of their own righteousness   and despised everyone else.” It’s sharp. And our first reaction may be to deny that we would ever think that way. And so right from the get-go, we run the risk of falling into the very judgmental, I-know-better attitude that the parable warns against. We’re caught short. We’ve been set up. The parable’s already working. We must pay close attention to Jesus and see where he takes us. The territory may not be as familiar as we supposed. First there is a Pharisee, he has come to the temple to present his credentials to God; he does not pray  to  God, he stands tall and prays, literally- “toward himself.” And even after years of ...

We remember neighbors burning leaves in their yards when such conflagrations were still common during autumn in suburbia. The pungent aroma was somehow lovely to a child. And when we hear Jesus tell us that he longs to set a fire upon the earth, we remember the heady fragrance of the smoldering leaves. How to let ourselves be consumed by the fire of Christ's love - his love for us, our love for him. In simplicity and ordinariness, we long to be as dry leaves constantly available to this fire. Photograph by Brother Brian.

We may offer ourselves to God with all our potential, goods, talents, friends– and in return expect a certain recompense from him, for example, that he would give us “wisdom” or perseverance in faith or love. But this would be only an imaginary justice, a kind of pact we set up between us and God, existing only in our own head.   God may not wish to enter into such an arrangement, and so we may very well find that rather than marching forward to ever greater heights of spiritual perfection he instead leaves us in unrest, dryness, darkness and anxiety. If this were to happen, we must know that although this wholly imaginary justice was not fulfilled, God is not ignoring us, or acting arbitrarily, but is very much at work in us fulfilling a much higher justice between us and God. We might have thought that we had given ourselves, but now find ourselves standing before God with empty hands. But this is precisely where God wants us. Although we may not see the gift God gives i...

Perhaps Jesus is using a bit of humor this morning to get our attention. You know the widow in Israel was the archetype of helplessness; she was among the most vulnerable in that society. And the Law of Moses decreed that she must be looked after by those who had more. But the judge in Jesus’ story is so despicable that just he wants to get rid of her and is attentive only because he’s afraid that this “helpless,” probably older woman might come and “strike” him. In one translation the judge says: “I will give her justice, otherwise she will keep coming and end up giving me a black eye.” It’s tragic comic. Who have we made God into? Who does God want to be for us? These are some of the questions this Gospel raises for us. Could God our Father be at least as good as that nasty judge who gives a just sentence only because he’s afraid of a nagging widow? Might God our Father be at least as attentive as that? If a cruel and unfeeling judge will give in to an irritatin...

Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you, All things are passing; God only is changeless. Patience gains all things. Who has God wants nothing. God alone suffices. We are always heartened by these words of Saint Teresa of Avila.  As autumn days grow cooler with  first frosts at night, we notice that  some flowers continue to bloom.  Patience gains everything. We pray; we wait; we trust. God never ever abandons us. Brother Brian's photographs of Brother Gabriel's garden.

Commenting on this morning’s Gospel, N.T. Wright poses an intriguing question. “Which is more surprising: the fact that one leper came back, shouted for joy, fell down at Jesus’ feet and thanked him? Or the fact that the nine others who were cleansed on their way to see the priests didn’t?”  Typically, throughout his Gospel Luke focuses on Jesus’ attitude toward the outsider, the foreigner—in this case, a Samaritan. The implication is that the Samaritan had less reason to return to Jesus than did the other nine. O n the other hand, perhaps the nine lepers who were Jewish were understandably afraid to go back and identify themselves with Jesus, who by now was a marked man. Or perhaps, having realized they had been healed, they were so eager to get back to their families from whom they had been isolated all the time the disease had affected them that they simply didn’t think to go back and look for Jesus. Luke, in any case, implies that they were less grateful. With disappointment...

The existence of Christ as an exemplary existence reaches its high point when he is opened out on the cross.  This is why he can then say, announcing his death and explaining it: I go away and I come back to you (Jn 14.28).  It is as if he were saying: ‘By my going away the wall of my existence, which at present hems me in, is broken open.  Therefore, this event of my going away is my true coming to you because, through it, I fully actualize what I truly am: namely, the One who incorporates everyone into the unity of my new being, which is not a barrier but unity itself.’ On the cross, the outspread arms of the Crucified show him to be an adorer; but, at the same time, that gesture gives a new dimension to adoration and defines the specifically Christian glorification of God.   These open arms are the expression of perfect adoration precisely because they express Christ’s total surrender of himself to human beings.   These open arms are the gesture of emb...

We remember with joy and gratitude our mothers and fathers, grandparents and scores of our older family fingering their beads before and after Mass, in the car or sitting in their favorite chair. Clearly it was their way to deep prayer. The mysteries of the Holy Rosary - joyful, sorrowful, glorious and luminous - are the mysteries of our own lives. As we pray the Rosary we beg Our Lady to draw us closer to Him who is our Light and our only Hope. Apparition of the Virgin to Saint Bernard, Filippino Lippi, 1485-1487, oil on panel, 83 x 77 in., Badia, Florence.

Why would Jesus want us to remember that w e are useless, doing only what we are supposed to do ? To put us in our place? Yes. I think so, but not to make us feel bad but because he wants company down there. He reminds us that our place is down there with him, in   the lowest place where he has gone before us. And where else would we want to be? Jesus has come to serve not to be served. And this morning he  is speaking to us about life in the kingdom not giving us protocols for the workplace. We follow not a way but the Way, Jesus. He is our Master not our boss. We are his disciples, learning that life in the kingdom  is never about accomplishment but about doing what God wants; in the kingdom, I am not what I do, but what I am – the beloved of the Father with and in Christ Jesus. And what do I have that I have not received from him? What could I possibly do without his grace? Nothing at all. I’m useless without him. So being told that we are unwo...

We are told that Saint Francis decreed that his friars not have pockets in their habits. How he wanted them to be poor with the poor Christ! How to depend on Jesus alone for all we need? How to cling to Him, a Treasure always ready to hand and heart? Detail of  Saint Francis Of Assisi Receiving the Stigmata  by Giambattista Tiepolo.

Consider, dearest brethren, how careful we ought to be to show ourselves worthy of such noble company and so to live in the sight of the holy angels that they shall see nothing in our conduct to displease them...There are many things which afford them pleasure and which they are glad to find in us, such as moderation, chastity, poverty freely chosen, frequent short prayers to God, prayers offered with tears of contrition and pure intention of heart. Design by Charles Voysey. Lines by Saint Bernard of Clairvaux.

If you are willing to bear in peace the trial of not being pleased with yourself, you will be offering the Lord Jesus a home in your heart. It is true you will suffer, for you will feel like a stranger in your own house. But do not fear, for the poorer you are, the more Christ will love you. We are always consoled by these words of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux; she reminds us that Jesus' power is made perfect in our weakness.