ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

Saint Jerome, the fourth-century monk, renowned for his holiness and learning is also remembered for his bad temper and acerbic personality, especially when combatting heresy. Strong and outspoken he had many virtues as well as the unpleasant fruits of a fearlessly critical nature.  Swift to anger but also swift to remorse, he was more severe on himself than on the shortcomings and errors of others.  One pope is supposed to have remarked on seeing a painting of Jerome striking his breast with a stone, "You do well to carry that stone, for without it the Church would never have canonized you!" Guido Reni, Saint Jerome , c. 1624, oil on canvas, 111.8 cm x 86.4 cm, National Gallery, London.  Meditation by Father Emmanuel.

  In the presence of the angels, I will sing your praises Lord. As we celebrate Saints Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and all the holy angels and archangels, these messengers of God Most High, we recall that when we chant our praise to God, we join them. When we pray the heavens are thrown open, and we accompany the angels and saints in their endless praise.  Detail of  The Assumption  by Fra Angelico.

  Today we hear the heart-wrenching cries of Job from the midst of his suffering: “Why did I not perish at birth, come forth from the womb and expire? … Why is light given to the toilers, and life to the bitter of spirit?” (Job 3, 1-23) Vincent de Paul heard this same cry of despair in his heart whenever he saw the eyes of human suffering begging him for help. This same cry we ourselves hear all around us every day, most recently coming from the criminal attack upon innocent Ukrainians. But, rather than allow himself to be dragged down by despondency in the face of such senseless horrors, or perhaps even entertain doubts about the existence of a good and merciful God, Vincent de Paul saw in the distress of others the vocation of his own life. He allowed himself, first, to be invaded by the fire of God’s love, and then he became a channel for the love and compassion of God in this world. And what about us? Would not the greatest tragedy of all be for us to partake at this al...

Our way of life is an awareness of our neediness. It is humility, it is poverty freely accepted, obedience, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Our way of life means learning to be silent and exerting ourselves in fasting, vigils, and prayer. It means working with our hands, and above all clinging to that most excellent way which is love. It means furthermore, progressing day by day in these things and persevering in them. These words of Saint Bernard written so long ago, remind us that essentially our daily monastic regime has changed very little since the twelfth century. The monastery is called a school of love, where we are always learning, trying to make progress day by day. Photographs by Brother Brian. Lines from a letter by Saint Bernard. 

  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 story...

  I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. ..From now on, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.  We remember today Padre Pio, visibly, painfully marked by the wounds of Jesus. This was his unique privilege.    In a far less dramatic but authentic way, each one of us bears our own wounds, unseen but very real. And our wounds too are Jesus’ wounds. The Lord would not have it otherwise. We too are marked with him, for him; hidden in his wounded Body.

    After the three magnificent parables on forgiveness in Chapter 15 of Luke that were proclaimed last Sunday, we begin a new chapter on the use and abuse of money.  The prophet Amos gets us off to a rousing start in the first reading with his denunciation of the moneyed elite of the very wealthy northern Kingdom of Israel around the year 750 BC.  This date makes the prophetic utterance of  Amos the oldest written book of prophecy in the Bible.  It is sadly the case that the first thing the prophets had to address was our idolatry of money at the cost of our respect for God and the poor who are sold into slavery in payment of paltry debts which had the value of a pair of sandals—the poor were considered just as worthless. Why do horrible injustices like this one, which is so ancient, sound so contemporary?   Amos calls us to pay attention- "Hear this, you who trample upon the needy!”  Likewise, this deep listening to the word of Go...

  As the Church celebrates today's memorial in honor of Our Lady of Sorrows, we recall 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 empathizes with Jesus' wounded Body even now. 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. Let us go to her. Painting by Safet Zec,

Jesus reminds Nicodemus this morning that the Son of Man must be lifted up. For in that hour as the Son abandons himself to the Father’s will upon the cross, Death’s stranglehold will be destroyed . Anguish will become exaltation; the cross a gateway, the new ark, our only hope. We glory in the cross of Christ Jesus our Lord, for by his cross Christ Jesus has trampled down Death by death. What would it be like to really believe that confusion is grace, that through our sins, and failures, what we have done or failed to do and deeply regret, we can find Mercy waiting for us?

  But what do I care about heaven, when I myself have become heaven? On his feast day, we recall these beautiful words of Saint John Chrysostom reminding us of the great dignity that is ours as God's own children and of the responsibility that such dignity requires. His words become intensely real when we receive the Blessed Sacrament each morning during Mass. And we try to be mindful of this reality all day long. Two monks are pictured in an etching by Margaret Walters, (1924 - 1971), completed for Saint Joseph's Abbey.

Please listen with me to this snippet of a conversation: “If you hadn’t given him all that money, he would still be here with me. How could you have done it? His full share of the inheritance? You’ve become the laughingstock of the entire district. God only knows where he’s gone to. And still every day you sit on that front porch waiting, watching. I see you there, and it breaks my heart.” “Don’t worry, my dear, he’ll be back. He’s a good boy. He asked me, and I gave him what he wanted; I couldn’t hold him. But I know him. Trust me, he’ll be back.” And so, he waits; he will not stop loving, longing, and waiting, always waiting. You see a younger son has gone off with his share - in Hebrew law, one-third of the estate. It’s an incredibly hefty sum of money. And asking for his inheritance while his father’s still alive amounts to wishing him dead. And then, Jesus tells us, he wastes it all. What’s worse, there’s a famine. And he hires himself out to a Gentile to feed pigs, pigs; so now h...

  We monks love Our Lady and rejoice in celebrating her birthday.  Our monastery is dedicated to her - officially named Our Lady of St. Joseph's Abbey. 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

Thomas a Kempis wrote in The Imitation of Christ :  Jesus has many who love his kingdom in heaven, but few who bear his Cross (Lk 14:27). He has many who desire comfort, but few who desire suffering. He finds many to share his feast, but few his fasting. Many follow Jesus to the breaking of bread, but few to drink the cup of his passion. Many admire his miracles, but few follow him in the humiliation of his cross. Many love Jesus as long as hardship never touches them. Many praise and bless him, as long as they are receiving comfort from him. In today’s Gospel Jesus says words that were quite shocking to his hearers and to us too. “If anyone comes to me without hating father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes, and his own life, that person cannot be my disciple.” (Lk 14:26). What are we to make of such an extraordinary statement? Don’t we have an incomprehensible contradiction here? Is this the same Jesus who tells us to love our enemies, now tells us to hate those mos...

  We know that in the Palestine of Jesus’ day, sowing involved broadcast ing  handfuls of seeds  that were  later plowed under. In the exaggerated scene Jesus depicts for us in the parable of the sower  in  Matthew 13 , it seems the sower is a bit too generous, scattering the seeds somewhat haphazardly. They’re going everywhere - over brambles, rocks, well-trodden pathways and hungry birds are constantly swooping overhead.  The parable gives us an image of the  dynamic outward movement of God, as in the beginning of creation, always moving beyond the sphere of his own self-sufficient Being into the void of nothingness. God is constantly pouring himself in abundance into what is not-God.  This outpouring of Godself  takes flesh in Christ Jesus Our Lord. Jesus himself is the divine Sower who gives himself away to us completely, scattering his word, his very self upon us constantly. He is that Grain of Wheat falling to the earth, dying and ...