ST JOSEPH'S ABBEY, SPENCER MA

When Our Lady visits her cousin Elizabeth, the infant Saint John in her womb leaps for joy at the nearness of his Lord newly present in Mary's womb. May we follow John's example and rejoice at the Lord's presence in our midst moment by moment. The Visitation , 13th century manuscript, School of Saint Albans, The British Library. 

In today's snippet from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus summons his disciples to a mountain top, proclaiming that all power in heaven and on earth belongs to him, commissioning them to baptize in his name and solemnly promising to be with them always.  Somewhat surprisingly they worship him, but they also doubt. It   seems a bit anticlimactic. After all they have experienced of Jesus, they doubt. Literally in the Greek, they are "standing two ways."   Perhaps it’s the perfect ending to Matthew’s Gospel. We remember after all how it began: “Now this is how the birth of Jesus took place…” Those few words always sound so promising, almost like, “Once upon a time…” But as the story unfolds, it’s more like a fractured fairy tale, not picture perfect. There’s Mary’s unexplained pregnancy, Joseph’s dream, and on and on… Not ideal but real, like Jesus’ life, like our lives. Perhaps it is consoling to realize that even Jesus’ closest companions were in the final analysis more ...

Six good men journeyed to the Abbey this past weekend for a vocational discernment experience- our biannual Monastic Experience Weekend. As they seek God's will and their hearts' deepest desire, Father Timothy's Sunday homily struck the right note for them as well as for us monks:   Christ and the Spirit always surpass us. Once we have received the Spirit we can never rest. The Spirit of truth is always pushing us beyond ourselves to something larger, or into some new direction, into the ever-greater life of Christ and the Father.  The monastic life, and specifically the Rule of Saint Benedict, is instituted precisely as a form and framework through which the Spirit can bear witness to the truth, disclose its marvels and   guide the monk into it, inviting him into the exhaustible fullness of divine realm of the Son and the Father, breaking down the barriers set up by his ego, allowing him to transcend himself, and ever expanding his heart, insofar as he allows the ...

In this morning's Gospel Jesus asks us to remain i n him as he remains in us and because he wants to be so united with us,  he adds that without him we can do nothing. God is always moving toward us, drawing us. God wants to reveal himself and engage us. We come to understand this towardness of God in Christ, who shows in his life, passion , death and rising that God indeed wants to give himself away to us always.  And so we must understand that if we desire union with God in Christ, he wants it more than we do. We may be afraid of making a wrong move. But God is for us, he wants us to love and choose rightly in freedom and joy, empowered by his love. God has made us for himself; he wants our flourishing, our freedom and happiness. God very desperately wants to be with us. His very powerful compassion envelops and embraces us, and so we are able to be unafraid. 

Perhaps like Thomas and Philip in today’s Gospel we often don't understand. That’s why Thomas’ question this morning, is such a relief. He puts it right out there. “Master, we don’t know where you going. How can we know the way?” The other disciples were all probably thinking the same thing, but did not dare to ask. Said another way: “Why does following you have to be so puzzling?” Or “Why can’t things be clearer?” “I don’t understand the way you do things.” “Why can’t things simply remain the same?”  And further removed as we are, having never encountered Jesus in the flesh, perhaps our faith needs to be even deeper than theirs. That’s why Thomas’ candor is so refreshing. Very soon as we approach Pentecost, we will hear the Lord say: “It is better for you that I go.” If only Thomas were there that day too to say, “Please remind why this is better, because I’m just not getting it. I don’t understand. I just want you to stay.” That’s what Jesus wants too, simply to have those...

After days of soft rain the Abbey is green and suddenly lush. The peepers are chortling enjoying the wet. And we sing the antiphon at Vespers, Like a gentle rain falling upon the earth, you have come to save your people. Alleluia!

Today we monks celebrate Saint Pachomius (c. 292-346 AD) an early Egyptian ascetic regarded by many as the founder of  cenobitic   monasticism . Born to pagan parents in Upper Egypt, he received an excellent education and in his early twenties was called to serve in the Roman army. As a new conscript he was housed in an old prison building operated by local Christians. He was so impressed by their kindness and generous love for him and the other recruits, that he vowed to become a Christian when his military service ended. The love that had touched and converted him would characterize Pachomius’ ministry and gentle leadership for years to come.