Today both Old Style and New Style celebrate Mary Magdalene. The pic at the right are The Relics of St. Mary Magdalene at the Basilica of La Madeleine, Vezelay, France.
R. Rejoice with me, all ye that love the Lord, for I sought him and he manifested himself unto me, * And whilst I wept at the sepulchre, through my tears I saw the Lord, alleluia.
V. When his disciples went away, I did tarry at his grave, and my heart burnt with the fire of love for him.
R. And whilst I wept at the sepulchre, through my tears I saw the Lord, alleluia.
After Jane so graciously forwarded to us the propers used by the New Zealand Trappists, I used them all day in my prayers. The priveledge of working at home is that I am free to set an alarm reminding me to say Terce, Sext, and None. Lauds and Vespers I remember on my own, as well as the Office of Readings.
I can't help but feel a certain kinship with old Benedict these days, as I'm confronting his rule on a daily basis on behalf of my sisters and brothers of the Lay Cistercians of Gethsemani. Undoubtedly I'm not the first person to be amazed at how useful this rule is after more than a thousand years. Do you think anything you have done, or I have done will last a thousand years? Who knows? But fat chance.
Sue Kephart, who has termed herself the LCG Grandma, even thought she isn't the oldest member by a long shot, raised the question of whether or not Benedict ever existed. I answer it in the same way my professor of Greek answered the question, "was the Illiad really written by Homer?" He said, "If not, it was written by someone called Homer."
I think most medieval history, at least the not carefully examined history, is a bunch of malarkey. We didn't invent spin doctors, they had them aplenty in the ancient times. That's why Dan Brown, who spins a great tale but can't write his way out of a paper bag, has spun two magnificent novels using nothing more than the zillion "theories" that pass as history for someone. Heck, I could say that Jesus appeared to me in my backyard and told me to build a forty foot duck...and there would be plenty of people to believe it. And pilgrims would start showing up, too!
What's my point? That if Benedict didn't exist, then someone named Benedict wrote the Rule of Benedict, and he had a sister named Scholastica. And! I'm learning each day that this man Benedict, or someone named Benedict, knew what he was talking about.
This is Thursday of the Fourteenth Week of the Year, but tomorrow is the Feast of St. Benedict. It will be a major solemnity in all Benedictine and Cistercian monasteries and convents. According to the Old Style it will be something altogether different. St. Pius I, Pope and Martyr. I have no idea who he was, but I'm sure he was a holy man worthy of our memory.
I'm feeling slightly low and run down, so tonight's entry is going to be short. The fact that maybe two people in the Universe read it makes me feel a little guilty for not providing at least something provocative for them, but alas, I'm dry as a wrung out wash rag. After all, tomorrow I have to cook up something for "Monks and Private Ownership," and relate it to the LCG in some way.
"My grace is all you need. Power comes to its fullest expression in weakness."
Yesterday when I went to Mass at Nazareth, I parked in the same place in front of the Statue of St. Vincent de Paul, because there is a sidewalk there. Once on the sidewalk I noticed a vivid blue butterfly ahead of me sitting on the sidewalk. It sat there and I walked a few paces forward, then it flew ahead about ten feet, landed, and waited for me. I would come up to it, and it would fly about another ten feet, land, wait, and repeat. The butterfly led me around the front of the church, past the double doors that are never used, where he was flying about madly, then zoomed out of site, until I turned the corner to the door where you actually enter the church, and there it was, flying away.
I had been led to Mass by a vivid blue butterfly. I don't know what to make of that, except it was remarkable. Usually the butterflies just fly off and we say 'oh how pretty' but this one was my guide. Little did I know at the time how much I was going to need that guide.
Today, my only remaining secular friend essentially walked out of my life. I'm not going into causes and reasons, but it made me think of a quote I found in Michael Brown's Daily Thoughts. If you begin to let God make you holy (meaning whole), you will probably lose most of your friends.... But you will find others.
-Thomas Keating
While I know that is true, the moment I read it that day I knew this particular day was coming. I certainly will not claim that my holiness is the reason my friend left today, or that he is gone for good. But I will say that I will no longer continue that relationship under the conditions it had been functioning.
So, how am I? Heartbroken on one level, and relieved on another. It didn't help that in my mid-afternoon prayers, which came after the "break up" If this had been done by an enemy
I could bear his taunts.
If a rival had risen against me,
I could hide from him.
But it was you, my own companion,
my intimate friend!
All I can say is, it wasn't easy chanting that part. So I'm in a quandary, I should be suffering from heartbreak and recriminations, but I'm not. In fact, as soon as I realized he meant it, I repeated to myself something I learned from reading about Pope John XXIII.In the three years of my pontificate, I have learned to depend on the maxim of absolute trust in God in all things concerning the present, and perfect tranquility regarding the future.
I don't think I can say anything better than that. Pray for me. Pray for my [ex]friend.
Well here we are at the 14th Sunday of the Year also known as 8th Sunday after Pentecost. Not much difference is there between 14th and 8th? Both are equally boring. Oh well, I guess that's why they call it Ordinary Time.
Also, it's the first Sunday of the month, I have enough money to afford a trip to the monastery for Mass, but our big picnic is next week, so do I dare drive 31 mile round trip twice in one month? Every since I heard that the North Pole is all but melted away, I've been very careful where I drive and why I drive. I am in a position to reduce my carbon footprint, and am lucky to be in that position.
Here's the problem. I have two issues with this. First, I like the idea of the Arctic as a frozen wasteland. Second, the monks at Gethsemani could give a flying care whether or not I'm at mass. The nuns at Nazareth like for me to be at mass there. That doesn't reduce any of my devotion to Cistercian spirituality, or the Lay Cistercains of Gethsemani, it does affect my use of a quarter tank of gas to drive 31 miles round trip to attend a mass where maybe one person actually cares whether I'm there or not, or drive one mile and be welcomed by five or six who really do care whether I am there or not.
Maybe in my old age, I am 50 after all, I am discovering that acceptance into a group has something to say for itself. I feel the two sides of my spirituality meet when I attend both religious communities for Mass. The deciding factor is LCG meets next week, not this week, so why do I feel so guilty for not going to Gethsemani this morning? It must have something to do with a promise I made to myself, that even now I don't remember making, but have learned that sometimes I do that -- make promises to myself without my really being aware of it.
No matter! I bring so little money into this household that I refuse to use up gas twice a month to drive to a place where no one cares I am there, when I can drive across the street to a place where many people care I am there. The thing I've learned in the Lay Cistercian charism is that the Charism comes from the monks and nuns, and not that we have to at the monastery to get it. I am still contemplative. I am still more of a hermit than not. I still like to go to church somewhere that those who are there care whether or not I am there.
