ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

We mourn the passing of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. We were touched by these words of tribute by Pope Francis: And speaking of kindness, our thoughts go spontaneously to our most beloved Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, who left us this morning.  With emotion, we recall him — so noble, so kind. And we feel so much gratitude in our hearts: Gratitude to God for having given him to the Church and to the world, gratitude to him, for all the good he has done, and above all for his testimony of faith and prayer, especially in these last years of his life in recollection. Only God knows the value and power of his intercession, of his sacrifices offered for the good of the Church.

It takes work to get back to the peace of knowing yourself completely loved. And perhaps we never fully get there while we’re here. But the desire is set deep inside us, that incompleteness, the ache for the surprise of love to find us. Perhaps some of us follow certain old scripts handed on to us by our own histories, stories filled with fear and failure. The script often reads- don’t trust, don’t hope. Jesus, God’s tender Word comes to us and offers us a new script, new words to rewrite our story and reimagine the old hopelessness as possibility and opportunity for grace; even allowing ourselves to believe that we are rejoiced over. Jesus invites us back to this place where we can learn to receive life and love as undeserved and unexpected blessings. We may sense the near impossibility of opening our hearts to make a space for love and hope, a place inside us where God’s rejoicing can sprout and blossom from the hard, unpromising stump of our tired old fear and loneliness. And so eac...

We imagine that all the Gospels answer a question posed by the second generation of Christ’s followers, perhaps the children and grandchildren of the apostles and disciples. “What was Jesus like? What was it like to know him? What was it like to be with him?"  How extraordinarily attractive Jesus must have been. “The kingdom of heaven is at hand,” he says. And so perfectly does he express this good news of God’s reign, in his healing, in his preaching, in who he was, that he says, “Come away with me,” and  at once  the first disciples leave everything behind.  Was it just so clear? Why else would they have left everything without hesitation?   There is a rather bizarre medieval legend that John the Beloved Disciple, whom we celebrate today, was actually the bridegroom of the marriage feast at  Cana . The story goes that, having witnessed the power and beauty of Jesus as he transformed gallons and gallons of water into wine, the groom abandoned his bride the...

After centuries of fiery prophecy and heightened expectation, generations of longing, suffering, and hope, that first Christmas night the Messiah, the long-awaited Savior, finally comes to inaugurate the Kingdom of God—which He in fact is. But how small and gentle is his coming, as we just heard in St. Luke’s Infancy Narrative! It is paradoxical that the Word who was “from the beginning and was with God and was God” came into the world to make his dwelling among us, but without a sound, hidden from almost everyone, and remained for many years unnoticed. St. John Chrysostom, the 4th century Doctor of the Church who preached God as the “friend of humankind,” as the one who in Christ became the brother of the poor, marveled at this in a homily: Christ did not come with a crash of thunder amid a great upheaval, earthquakes, flashes of lightning, and disturbance in the heavens. He did not come with an escort of angels, tearing the heavens apart to descend upon the clouds. No, he came withou...

  This evening at Vespers we chant: O King of the Gentiles and the Desired of all, you are the cornerstone that binds two into one.  Come, and save man whom you fashioned out of clay.  King may be a title we need to remind us of the place we want Jesus to have in our lives, in our hearts. But it is simply not a title Jesus chooses for himself. He has come to serve, not to be served. And so he tells us:  "Whatever you did to one of these least brothers of mine, you did to me."  He, the highest, speaking from his throne of glory, thus declares himself to have wholly passed over, in his actual existence on earth, into “the least”, and these, the lowest, he also claims as his own brothers and sisters. Christ’s eternal origin in his heavenly Father, dynamically mediated through the Incarnation, creates a new brotherhood among all human beings. This is not a natural brotherhood, existing by the mere fact that we are all human beings.  This is a supernatural kinsh...

  In the tender compassion of our God, the Dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death and to guide our feet into the way of peace. This evening we call, out to the Lord Jesus: O Rising Dawn, Radiance of the Light eternal and Sun of Justice: come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. Faith is light. In John’s Gospel, Christ says of himself: “I have come as a light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.”  John 12:46   “We therefore are not the origin of this light but it is the great gift of Jesus as light of the world. As Jesus exclaims to Peter after his confession, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.’ ” The consequence of this supernatural gift is that “Those who believe, see; they see with a light that illumines their entire journey, for it comes the risen Christ, the mornin...

  This evening we call out to Jesus as "Key of David." Keys open doors. Jesus is  the  key to our freedom from all that would frighten, cripple or close us in on ourselves.  He offers us the small, fragile hand of God beckoning us not to be afraid. Whatever our fears, and our sins, Jesus notices and offers us accompaniment and a way out. He assures us that we are more than all that. He has come to save us from all that would paralyze and hurt us.  Now in Him, we have the power to forgive, not because “It’s alright. It’s nothing.” No, the opposite is true- very much has happened. We’ve been hurt, ignored, and tragically we have sometimes inflicted these same ills on others. But now in Christ, we are empowered to be compassionate - we can absorb the hurt and forgive and beg forgiveness, all because we trust in Christ Jesus who is at our side, even within us, assuring us that pain and fear, and suffering are powerless to define who we truly are. We belong to him. H...

  We chant this evening’s antiphon, acclaiming Jesus as the “Root of Jesse.” And we recall that he is the Origin and Source of all our good, all our hope, all our longing. This antiphon is a kind of gloss on the words of the prophet Isaiah: On that day, The root of Jesse, set up as a signal for the peoples— Him the nations will seek out; his dwelling shall be glorious. On that day, The Lord shall again take it in hand to reclaim the remnant of his people …He shall raise a signal to the nations and gather the outcasts of Israel... Jesus is truly the One who gathers and joins together in hope all peoples, scattered by hopelessness, hate, and fear. As we name his “Root of Jesse,” we pray especially for all refugees.

Yesterday, Sunday, December 18 our Brother Craig Musolino was clothed in the novice's habit during the weekly Chapter.  We rejoice to have him as our brother in community. O God, in that unutterable kindness by which you dispose all things sweetly and wisely, you gave us clothing, so that a triple benefit might be ours: we are covered with dignity, kept warm and protected in body and soul. Father, pour forth the blessing of your Holy Spirit upon us this morning and upon these clothes which your sons here before us have asked to receive, so that they may serve you faithfully in the Cistercian way of life.  Photographs by Brother Brian

  O Adonai, and leader of the House of Israel,  who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush  and gave him the law on Sinai:  Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm. This evening in our Vespers antiphon we will address Jesus, using the Hebrew title for Lord - "Adonai." Indeed Jesus is for us Lord of lords, Master and Ruler of all creation, present in the burning bush on Sinai, and still with us now in all our ordinariness. We recall the words of the poet  Elizabeth Barrett Browning:  Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes. Let us notice and honor the Lord in the ordinary events of our day. Abbey colored glass photographed by Brother Daniel.

  Many years ago, after a family discussion when I was smug and disrespectful, I recall my mother saying wearily, “I’m sorry, I know your father and I have never met your expectations.” It’s embarrassing to remember. Anyhow, it’s odd but I sense the Spirit of God speaking like that in today’s Gospel, as if pleading for our understanding, “Now this is how the birth of Jesus took place…This is the way, no other way, sorry to disappoint you but it really is as amazingly beautiful and as crazy mixed up as this.” So it is that the Christmas story unfolds each year. “Now this is how the birth of Jesus came about.” And each year those few words sound so promising, almost like, “Once upon a time…” But as the story unfolds, things fall apart, and it’s more like a fractured fairy tale, not at all neat and uncomplicated. There is Mary’s unexplained pregnancy, Joseph’s sense of betrayal and his decision to put her aside, then an angel’s reassurance in a dream; you know the rest of the story so...

    As we begin this evening our novena in preparation for Christmas, we name Jesus first of all "Wisdom." And we recall Paul's words to the Corinthians, "Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you considers himself wise in this age, let him become a fool so as to become wise.  For the wisdom of this  world is foolishness in the eyes of God."  So it is that the promised Messiah, God Most High, will come to us hidden, small, clothed in the flesh of our precarious humanness. This is the wisdom of God, God's way of doing things. O Wisdom, you came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and, reaching from beginning to end, you ordered all things mightily and sweetly. Come, and teach us the way of prudence.

If we were to go to John of the Cross with a complaint, perhaps he would remind us that "t he road is narrow" that leads to life and those who wish "to travel it more easily must cast off all things" and use the cross as their only "cane," and so be ready to suffer all things willingly for the love of God. Because sometimes we may have sought satisfaction apart from Christ or preferred other crutches or cushions to his cross, we beg his mercy.

Today we remember Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness of our Land. Each year on this day we set up a special shrine in the transept of our church with her image adorned by flowers and two candles that are illumined throughout the day. She is our Mother and our Refuge in all tribulation. We are greatly consoled by her words to Saint Juan Diego in 1531:  Do listen,  do be assured of it,  my littlest one,  that nothing at all  should alarm you,   should trouble you,  nor in any way disturb  your countenance,  your heart.   For am I not here,  I, your mother?  Are you not in the cool  of my shadow?   In the breeziness  of my shade?  Is it not I that am  your source of  contentment?   Are you not cradled  in my mantle, c uddled in the crossing  of my arms?   Is there anything else  you need? ____________________________________ Mary's conception, free of original sin, was unique am...

The third Sunday of Advent, which we celebrate today, has traditionally been referred to as “Gaudete Sunday” taken from the first word of the Latin Introit for today’s Mass, “Gaudete,” “Rejoice!” Today’s Mass readings and prayers are filled with expressions of joy and expectation. In the first Reading from Isaiah, we heard: “Let the desert and the dry lands exult, let the wasteland rejoice and bloom . . . let it rejoice and sing for joy. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the splendor of our God.” Look! Your God is coming . . . He is coming to save you!” The prophet seems to go overboard with his excitement and enthusiasm Isaiah continues: “The eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer, and tongues of the mute sing for joy.” These words will be explicitly applied to Jesus, who through his ministry, brought this healing into the lives of many people. All this is closely related to today’s Gospel. John the Baptist, as we see...

The baby in the cot may be quite passive and vulnerable to the whims of others, but he is also quite safe and will never again be so receptive; he is all ear, all eye, no judgment, no defensive irony.’ This observation on the relative innocence from which we all originate, by the contemporary British novelist Patrick Gale in his most recent novel Mother’s Boy, seems very relevant to the mystery of perfect innocence we celebrate today. While innocence practices total receptivity spontaneously, sin breeds obtuseness, judgmentalism, and fear leading to self-defense. But let us here and now wake up and see the truth before us. Like today’s resplendent full moon shining with incandescence into the pre-dawn darkness, Our Lady’s radiant purity reflects to us the beams of the Sun of Justice, Christ our Lord, that infuse life into our souls. Sinlessness, to us poor sinners, is a state of soul and a relationship with God which by its very nature is as unimaginable as it is intensely desired....

Today the Church celebrates Saint Nicholas remembered through the ages for his generosity to the poor. We recall these words of the martyred archbishop Saint Oscar Romero, which we always imagine the holy bishop Saint Nicholas would have appreciated. No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas without being truly poor. The self-sufficient, the proud, those who, because they have everything, look down on others, those who have no need even of God — for them there will be no Christmas. Only the poor, the hungry, and those who need someone to come on their behalf will have that someone. That someone is God, Emmanuel, God with us. Without poverty of spirit, there can be no abundance of God. Artwork by Elisabeth Jvanovsky.

In those days John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea 2 [and] saying, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!" It was of him that the prophet Isaiah had spoken when he said: "A voice of one crying out in the desert, 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.'" John is not the Word but a voice, yet as Augustine points out, in order to be a voice he must first have the word within him. “A word,” he says to his congregation in Hippo, “is in the heart before it is in the voice, so the Word, Christ, is before the voice, John,”. Just as Jesus says to his opponents in John, “before Abraham was, I am” so is he, as God’s Word, present and active in John the Baptist. John is the forerunner. In John, the whole of the old covenant cries out for its fulfillment. God gave his people John to prepare the way for his Son so that his people could see the first covenant shine forth once again in its original brightness. He is its embodime...

One friend wrote of Francis Xavier “ I have never met anyone more filled with faith and hope, more open-minded than Francis. He never seems to lose his great joy and enthusiasm. And anything he is asked to do, he does willingly, simply because he loves everyone.” And so, when St. Ignatius asked his dear friend Francis Xavier to go on mission to the Far East he was "overjoyed." He is said to have "walked with a joyful, calm face" and easy laughter. What we now know is that this vitality was not without its cost, for while on mission Xavier very often suffered from depression, loneliness, and a gnawing insecurity. Nonetheless, like Jesus in this morning’s Gospel, Francis Xavier’s heart was ever moved with pity for the crowds of people whom he evangelized, and his only desire was to bring them to Christ. As we continue our Advent journey, let us pray that the steadfast joy and zeal of Francis Xavier may be ours. And for any traces of half-heartedness let beg Christ’s...

  As he called his first disciples Peter and Andrew, Jesus calls each of us. Like Saint Paul and all the saints, we long to depart to be with Christ. Daily we try to set our minds and hearts on things that are above where Christ is. We have died; our lives are hidden now with Christ in God. We consider everything to be nothing at all compared to knowing Christ Jesus, our Lord. Because of him, we have set everything else aside, because in comparison everything else is a pile of rubbish. And we want more and more to know only Christ and the power of his resurrection. We share in his sufferings even now and so are becoming like him in his death. And it is worth it if somehow we attain the resurrection. So we keep pressing on to make it our own because Christ Jesus has made each of us his own. Our drawing closer to him, following him, is only possible because he draws us to himself. We need only be constantly available for this "drawing." Again and again, our Lord said, I am he. ...