Oh no, not yet

The word abide is prominent in the Easter readings. Like the early disciples and his followers today, we desire Jesus to remain with us, be with us, and not leave us.  The uncertainty existing in the hearts and minds of the early disciples for Jesus to physically remain has been matched through the years in crisis after crisis impacting the world. Today is no exception.
          The virus continues lurking, ready to raise its ugly head and is not going away soon enough. Throughout the Easter season the Paschal candle has been such a hopeful reminder of Jesus’ presence. There it has stood stately and beautiful by the ambo, a visible sign and a source of comfort during these unusual and scary times, a reminder of Christ’s abiding presence. On Pentecost, at the close of evening prayer the candle will be extinguished and removed. This year the anticipated loss intensifies.

Yet in our continued sequestered monastery, I can hear the same promise of Jesus’ words, words that speak comfort and promise: “Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go I will send him to you.” John 16:7

In this time of pandemic and social isolation the promise of the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, the one who advocates, comforts and assures us of continuing presence until the end of time renews hope. The Spirit of God will come and abide with us. The Spirit bring gifts that aid the world with wisdom, knowledge, understanding, fortitude, piety, counsel, and fear of the Lord. These gifts offer healing to our whole suffering world. Hopefully the wisdom and knowledge gifts will lead to a vaccine for COVID-19.

The oh no, not yet, transforms into Come Holy Spirit fill our hearts with the fire of your love and the countenance of your peace. 

Sr. Aileen Bankemper, OSB     

Words with Spire

Often the spire of a church serves as an important landmark of a city. To see it up close raises your eyes heavenward, and probably your thoughts as well. St. Stephen Cathedral in Vienna attracted me the first evening I was there in 1990. I had to take the spiral staircase as far as I could, and found not only a breath-taking view but also a gift shop! The one in our Covington cathedral leads to the choir loft and the majestic pipe organ. I often aspired to play an instrument like that, and to hear an accomplished organist do it can be so inspiring!

All of this word play has led me further. This is what I found:

·        Spiritus is the Latin noun for breath, and the verb is spirare – to breathe; “spirit” can also mean “soul” or “life”

·        Then there are all these prefixes to be used in related words; ex meaning “out,” re means “again,” a means “toward,” in means “within,” dis means “apart”

·        When the soul leaves the body, a person expires

·        A respirator may be used to revive one who has difficulty breathing

·        In our lifetime, we may have aspired to a higher calling and been inspired by a beautiful experience to create something beautiful ourselves

Then of course, there are words like conspire – to plan together secretly, usually something negative (con =against), and perspire – to breathe through the pores of the skin (per = through).

At school, or a sports event, the students are in high spirits when winning or ahead, and dispirited when losing, (as we all can be.) There are many other similar occasions.

Think of all the times you have used these related words.

Allow me one more spirit/spire-related word: What has transpired in the past two months that has changed or “come across” into your spirit?

Jesus breathed on his apostles, and they were filled with the Spirit, with power to forgive, and he promised the Spirit would return again after He ascended.

As we prepare for Pentecost this year, let us once again allow the Spirit to restore our own good spirit and positive thinking, as we recuperate from the time of quarantine, social distancing and fear of the pandemic plaguing the world.  

                 Sr. Mary Carol Hellmann, OSB

Living like the early Christian community

Acts of Apostles 2:42-47a excerpts

      They devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life,

to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers.

     All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their property and possessions and divide them among all according to each one’s need.

     Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to breaking bread in their homes. They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart, praising God.

       These verses from the Acts of the Apostles strike me as being a good summary of our life in the past two months (on our best days!). We meet together in chapel for Liturgy of the Hours; we eat our meals with “exultation and sincerity of heart” thanks to our incredible kitchen staff.

       In the past year we’ve sold some property and the proceeds are now being used “according to each one’s need.”

       It seems that we are living the communal life as described in the Acts of the Apostles more than ever. Our circumstances may not be the same as those of the early Christians but our lifestyle mirrors theirs. Actually not much has changed at the monastery except that we are all here all the time—no outside meetings, no outside lunches or dinners, and no family gatherings. We are praying and breaking bread at home as we always have. I’m sure many families are doing the same in their own way.

       As businesses open and the stay-at-home orders are lifted let’s hope that the communal blessings continue for each of us. May we stay safe and treasure the closeness we have all experienced. May our gratitude for all our blessings and for those who are keeping us safe continue.

      God bless us everyone.

                    Sr. Nancy Kordenbrock, OSB

A Paucity of Guests

Our front door is locked. The sign apologizes for our inability to welcome anyone. At the back door the sign says, “Please leave your delivery here outside the door. If you need a signature…” but they don’t need one. Delivery personnel are under the same strictures.

Staying safe at home are our oblates and friends of the community who may not join us yet for Liturgy of the Hours or the Eucharist we do not have. Each day we note your empty chairs with regret and continue to pray for your health.

We miss, too, the faithful volunteers who work alongside us in infirmary and garden. We long to provide employment for those businesses who were scheduled to repair or improve or install something. They, too, wait for change in “these uncertain times”.

On the entrance road which extends around the school, we see neighbors, walking in family groups and always “on the other side of the road”. Greet and move on. Wave to the Villa seniors inside cars who’ve come out to see their pictures along the road. The caution feels so odd. Here comes a person. Let’s cross the road.

May we never take any of you for granted. May we never lose the gratitude we feel for the place you have in our lives. We hold you in prayer, and when the time comes, we will be so happy to see you again face to face!

        Sr. Christa Kreinbrink, OSB

I Didn’t Sign Up for This

       The last seven weeks have been some of the worst for our world. The nightly news is a grim reminder of everything, and more importantly, everyone we have lost. Medical professionals, literally and figuratively, bruised from giving care to others say, “I didn’t sign up for this.” Yet, they return day after day risking their own lives for the sake of others. I am sure others say the same: clerks at the grocery, tellers at the bank, restaurant workers, or any essential workers.

       Going into week five of teaching via Zoom, I catch myself saying, “I didn’t sign up for this.” But neither did my students and tomorrow morning (after my second cup of coffee) there is no place I’d rather be. It seems we are all in a place of uncertainty and fear. Our plans and dreams have been put on hold, not unlike the people in this past Sunday’s gospel on the Road to Emmaus. 

       Jesus was with them as they walked the seven mile journey home, but they didn’t recognize him. They said, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” Jesus’ unaware hosts knew it would be dark soon. One should not be traveling about after the sun went down. It wasn’t safe. What is it about darkness and nighttime that can leave us a bit afraid? Perhaps Luke was reminding readers that Jesus is the true light and without him we are left not able to see our true selves, perhaps even a bit frightened. I am sure we have all felt that way recently. But we need to remember that this story was taking place during or shortly after Passover. There would have been a waning full moon. They would not be overcome by darkness. Light would shine--even amid the confusion, treachery, and death experienced in Jerusalem those days before

     . There is hope in our darkness. We experience things we may not otherwise see. Here at the monastery, as the sun hints at setting in the western sky, one will see deer in the fields, or hear an owl whose day is just beginning. Frogs are chirping and croaking full force as spring dictates they must. And on the luckiest of days, you will then witness one of the most glorious sunsets you have ever seen. Darkness does not dampen the smell of the flowers or the greening of the grass. The hillside is coming to life whether one looks at day or night. It will not be discouraged. And when we make the request, “Stay with us,” my faith tells me we are heard and my hope tells me there is light. Victor Hugo writes, “Go to sleep in peace. God’s awake.” And today, even night gives me hope for a better tomorrow. And that is something I’ll sign up for every time. 

       A few weeks ago, I came across this poem by Kentucky poet Wendell Berry.. I think it says the same thing. 

“The Peace of Wild Things”

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives might be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief.  I come into the presence  of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

          Sr. Eileen O'Connell, OSB

Faith, Hope and Love

       Someone once asked me why I believe in God.  I said That I believe because I have experienced God.

       I’ve experienced the Risen Jesus in the Sacraments of the Church.  I also experienced Christ in the poor lady who asked if she could help by donating clothing to the poor.  I’ve experienced God in the forgiveness of someone whom I have hurt.  I’ve experienced God in a family helping a relative who is bedridden and each member of the family helping in their own way.  What a good example this is to the children who acted likewise.  I’ve experienced God in the beauty of creation, in the majestic mountains, the beautiful peaceful lakes and in the expansive starry sky on a clear night.

       I’ve experienced God during COVID 19 in seeing the many health care workers and support people continuing to help others.  Like the Apostle Thomas, in last Sunday’s Gospel, these workers continue to touch the wounds of Christ. Yes, Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.

 

       You may ask where is God during this pandemic?  God is right here in the midst of us all in every country, working with the  good people who are using the gifts God gave them to help others.

I know that God does not cause evil but that God works in these times to bring good out of it.  What might this good be?

       During this time of COVID 19, we have a chance to re-evaluate Our lives.  Our Faith, family, friends, and communities become values important to us.  We will emerge from this crisis hopefully

with a deeper faith and resolve to make our world a better and a more loving world.

           Sr. Barbara Woeste, OSB

Being in Jesus' Gang

       It was the spring of 1961.  A classroom full of eighth grade students in Covington were reflecting on the Last Supper of Jesus. To the question, “What did Jesus tell Peter?”  a usually non-compliant boy responded, “If I don’t wash your feet, you cannot hang out in my gang.”  Not an Easter season goes by that I don’t smile at his response and find it a source of reflection.

       This year we are definitely in gangs—groups of individuals working on the same task. The task is staying free of the virus by trying to maintain an isolation from others. But we still have “gangs”. Our gangs may be only one person, a family group or a relatively large group such as a group residence, a jail, or a necessary work place.

       Can we define our “gang”?  For some it is required of us to be in more than one gang and of course this is tricky. Are we an active member of our particular gang(s)? Are we looking out for one another?  Are we washing feet in our gang?  Even a gang of one requires care.  Are we looking out for ourselves that we may be a foot-washer for others?  In our families, places of residence, work environs, are we responding to the needs of others?  Are we allowing others to look out for us?  

      Being in a gang requires a commitment. We ARE in it.  Can we live up to it and its many stresses?  Jesus had a motley crew for a gang. Let us ask him to help.

                                   Sr. Mary Rabe, OSB