Benedict's New Year's resolutions

Up until nearly 10 years ago, when I began the journey that eventually led me to the monastery, I typically rang in the New Year drinking heavily, and then spending the first day of the new year nursing a hangover while watching college football bowl games. Thankfully, that is not part of my routine any longer. New Year’s Eve and Day around here are rather reflective, joyous since we are still celebrating Christmas, and subdued compared to my former way of life.

Most of today for me will be spent performing necessary chores and continuing reading and research on my master’s thesis. As I do most days, I will likely take a walk. Yesterday, I visited via Skype with immediate family members gathered in my hometown of Findlay, Ohio, to celebrate Christmas. Later this evening, I will do some lighter reading for pleasure or indulge one of my more frivolous pursuits – playing the computer game Baseball Mogul. I’m addicted, I’ll admit. A complete waste of time. But it’s fun!

As a community, the monks here will celebrate First Vespers of the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God this evening, followed by dinner and recreation together. Today is the seventh anniversary of the election of Archabbot Justin DuVall, and the occasion is marked with an abbot’s conference immediately following Compline. Most of us will likely be in bed by 9 p.m. I might possibly stretch it to 10 p.m. Tomorrow, New Year’s Day, we will celebrate the solemnity. A few monks may peek at some of the bowl games. Most likely, I will spend the day reading and writing and visiting with confreres. In the afternoon, I may enjoy a walk, and perhaps a nap.

Mostly, though, I find New Year’s Eve and Day conducive to prayer and reflection—for the year that is ending, and the one we are beginning. One of my favorite meditations for such times is St. Benedict’s Prayer of Firm Purpose of Amendment, which is based on Chapter 4 of the Rule, the “Tools for Good Works.” It is a perfect set of New Year’s resolutions for anyone, monk or not. It goes like this:

O Lord, I place myself in your hands and dedicate myself to you. I pledge myself to do your will in all things: To love the Lord God with all my heart, all my soul, all my strength.

Not to kill. Not to steal. Not to covet. Not to bear false witness. To honor all persons. Not to do to another what I would not wish done to myself. To chastise the body. Not to seek after pleasures.

To love fasting. To relieve the poor. To clothe the naked. To visit the sick. To bury the dead. To help in trouble. To console the sorrowing. To hold myself aloof from worldly ways. To prefer nothing to the love of Christ.

Not to give way to anger. Not to foster a desire for revenge. Not to entertain deceit in the heart. Not to make a false peace. Not to forsake charity. Not to swear, lest I swear falsely. To speak the truth with heart and tongue.

Not to return evil for evil. To do no injury: yea, even to bear patiently any injury done to me. To love my enemies. Not to curse those who curse me, but rather to bless them. To bear persecution for justice’s sake.

Not to be proud. Not to be given to intoxicating drink. Not to be an over-eater. Not to be lazy. Not to be slothful. Not to be a murmurer. Not to be a detractor.

To put my trust in God. To refer the good I see in myself to God. To refer any evil in myself to myself.

To fear the day of judgment. To be in dread of hell. To desire eternal life with spiritual longing. To keep death before my eyes daily.

To keep constant watch over my actions. To remember that God sees me everywhere. To call upon Christ for defense against evil thoughts that arise in my heart. To guard my tongue against wicked speech. To avoid much speaking. To avoid idle talk. To read only what is good to read. To look at only what is good to see.

To pray often. To ask forgiveness daily for my sins, and to seek ways to amend my life. To obey my superiors in all things rightful.

Not to desire to be thought holy, but to seek holiness. To fulfill the commandments of God by good works.

To love chastity. To hate no one. Not to be jealous or envious of anyone. Not to love strife. Not to love pride. To honor the aged.

To pray for my enemies. To make peace after a quarrel, before the setting of the sun.

Never to despair of your mercy, O God of Mercy.

Amen.

Christmastide

A good number of people ask me what we monks do in the monastery to celebrate Christmas. I usually tell them we spend a good part of the day in church ... and another good part of the day eating!

In many ways, we celebrate Christmas in similar fashion to other people, but not in all ways. In the weeks leading up to December 25th, while the rest of the world celebrates the "holiday season," we observe Advent, a holy period of anticipation and yearning for the coming of the Lord. The liturgies gradually build in intensity, especially the week before Christmas with the "O Antiphons." A large Advent wreath is suspended from the ceiling in the monastery refectory (dining room), where we listen to specially selected seasonal readings during dinner. On several occasions after Compline, we go to the Chapter Room to listen to Advent conferences given by the abbot or various monks.

Four or five days before Christmas, a tree is erected in the monastery calefactory (our large living room), and another is placed in the refectory, along with other decorations. There are no gifts under the trees, however. Just before Christmas, the church is adorned for the Eve festivities.

Then, on the 26th, when many Christmas trees are tossed to the curb and the "holiday season" fades into preparations and resolutions for the New Year, we continue to celebrate Christmas! The 25th was just the beginning. Christmastide, after all, runs through the Solemnity of the Epiphany (January 8) and (for all intents and purposes) the feast of the Baptism of the Lord (January 9). During this time, in church we chant special antiphons and hymns praising the graces of the Incarnation, and a festive atmosphere continues to permeate the monastery.

Contributing to this are a good number of guests--including several young men visiting to observe and discern our way of life, and family members and friends of a few monks. Social time is extended. In addition, we have a table in the refectory laden with goodies provided by various benefactors which everyone is free to share.

Specifically, this is the schedule we observed in the monastery for Christmas Eve/Day:

December 24

5 p.m. -- First Vespers of the Nativity
6 p.m. -- Dinner
7 p.m. -- Christmas Vigils
10 p.m. -- Christmas Mass in nocte

After Mass (close to midnight), monks enjoyed refreshments and socialized in the refectory. Guests gathered with several monks to share refreshments in a public gathering area within the school.

December 25

7 a.m. -- Breakfast (Not just cereal and bread. On this day, breakfast is hot, with eggs, pancakes, and also fruit.)
8 a.m. -- Christmas Lauds
9:30 a.m. -- Christmas Mass in die
11:45 a.m. -- Midday Office
Noon -- Christmas Cheer (A social period in the calefactory with food and drink, ending with the singing of the Resonet, a traditional hymn stemming from our ties with Einsiedeln.)
12:30 p.m. -- Dinner (with talking; no table reading; prime rib!)
5 p.m. -- Second Vespers of Christmas
6 p.m. -- Casual supper with more socializing
7 p.m. -- Compline

Small wonder

The more they were oppressed,
the more they multiplied and spread.

Exodus 1:12

It is odd, yet also fitting, that the joyful celebration of Christ’s birth is followed so closely by the feast days of the first martyr Stephen and the Holy Innocents. These gave their lives (the little ones unknowingly) so that Christ’s Gospel might live and be proclaimed throughout the world, just as Jesus himself would do willingly 33 years later. St. Stephen and the Holy Innocents, each in their own way, perpetuate Christ’s eternal sacrifice, submitting to their persecutors so that Christ’s light may live and grow in the hearts of all people.

As the French poet Charles Peguy recalls in the case of the Holy Innocents, “They are the eternal imitations.”

It may be rather easy to believe that a small child is closer to Christ than most of us who are more acquainted with the scars of sin and struggle. In the witness provided by young children, we are often reminded that “unless you have the heart of a child, you cannot enter the kingdom of God” (cf. Matthew 18:3; Mark 10:15).

However, more than sweet and simple innocence is involved here. Becoming like a little child means turning our hearts to be completely dependent on, trustful of, and obedient to God. It means proclaiming the message of Christ’s salvation in word and deed through self-sacrifice—whether martyrdom comes with swift and deadly blows or with the tiny, annoying pinpricks of daily life.

It also means that Christ speaks to us daily in the smallest of details, the most unlikely (even painful) of events, and in the people many of us dismiss as not worth the effort or notice. Just as with the manger at Christmas, the empty tomb at Easter, or along the road to Emmaus after the Resurrection (cf. Luke 24:13-35), Christ lies hidden yet always present at the heart of our lives, waiting to be discovered with childlike wonder.

Most of all, it means that the power of sin and death which seeks to defeat Life itself absolutely cannot win. The destruction which evil inflicts before our eyes is ultimately its own undoing, all through the power hidden in childlike dependence on, trust in, and obedience to God. Pharoah ordered that all newborn Hebrew boys be thrown into the river. Yet Moses—plucked from that same river—survived to lead his people out of slavery. Hundreds of years later, Herod ordered the massacre of all newborn boys in the vicinity of Bethlehem. Yet the infant Jesus—escaping in the arms of Mary and Joseph—survived and emerged from Egypt to save all people from slavery to sin by handing over his own life.

The pattern has been set, and the event continues in each one of our lives to this very day. If we seek Christ, he will be found. If we ask, we will receive. And if we pick up our cross daily, follow him, and lose our lives for his sake, we will gain Life itself.

Througout it all, the Holy Innocents dance with delight around the Christ child. In harmony, the "eternal imitations" rejoice in the hope stored up for all in heaven.

Light shines in the darkness

Today a light shines on us,
for the Lord is born for us.

He is called

Wondrous God,
Prince of Peace,
Father Forever,
and his reign
is without end.

Sunday, Dec. 25, 2011
The Nativity of the Lord

Isaiah 9:1-6
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-14

Darkness blankets the earth. Night descends and we seek rest, security, and peace. The dawn promises hope, newness, and joy, but it is a long time coming. Sleep is elusive, fear and worry creep in, and loneliness torments. We toss and turn throughout the long night.

Under the cover of night, we are haunted by the demons of war, oppression, violence, injustice, poverty, racism, disparity, corruption, crime, abuse, lust, greed, selfishness, jealousy, anger, conflict, hostility, isolation, guilt, shame, despair, depression, exhaustion, addiction, illness, pain, grief, sorrow, and death. All the result of the sin of pride inherited from our first parents, humanity’s choice to spurn the God of all and “be like gods” ourselves (cf. Genesis 3:5).

It is a dark, dark world—like Pottersville in Frank Capra’s 1946 film “It’s a Wonderful Life. Except that Pottersville didn’t exist. It would have existed if it had not been for one man, George Bailey, famously portrayed by Jimmy Stewart. His goodness, his light, kept the evil darkness of Mr. Potter at bay. His light provided hope for the good people of Bedford Falls. And when the darkness threatened to overtake even poor, desperate George Bailey, something small and wonderful happened:

God stepped in.

So it is with us. While “It’s a Wonderful Life” provides an apt metaphor for God’s presence in the world, the Incarnation we recall in the feast of Christmas surpasses all wonder. God became man. God entered the darkness—not to eradicate humanity’s woes, but to give them meaning and purpose within a fallen world grasping at straws. Christ is our hope in a world of darkness. His “light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).

The theme of light piercing the darkness is prevalent in all of today’s readings. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone,” prophesies Isaiah. “The grace of God has appeared,” writes St. Paul. “The glory of God shone around” the shepherds as the angel of the Lord announced the birth of Jesus. It is interesting to note that this light of God’s glory does not eliminate the dark night. Rather, it shines through it to provide hope and guidance. Christ, the Light of the World (cf. John 8:12), promises to lead us through the darkness, and—if we follow him unreservedly—to keep evil at bay, to even thwart it. As John the Baptist’s father Zechariah prophesies in the Benedictus (Luke 1:67-79) which we chant each morning at Lauds: “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.”

Christmas reminds us to seek that light again, to follow it, to become that point of light along the dark and narrow path of life. Our rejoicing in the light that Christ provides should, like George Bailey, provide a beacon of hope for others on the same journey. We all must become the light that shines in the darkness. As Jesus told the disciples of his day and ours, “You are the salt of the earth” and the “light of the world. … Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly father” (Matthew 5:13,14,16).

A Savior is born for us from God’s zeal, or passion, as Isaiah says (9:6). Interestingly, a few sentences after today’s Gospel passage ends, Luke tells us that the shepherds who had seen the light “went in haste” and found Mary, Joseph, and the infant Jesus lying in a manger (Luke 2:16). They were eager to find the source of the light, and after seeing Jesus, expressing the zeal of God’s love, they “returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen” (Luke 2:20).

The light shining in the darkness of that first Christmas night had transformed them, as it should with us today. St. Paul reminds us of this in the second reading when he says that the “grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age” as we await the final coming of Christ (Titus 2:11-12). This is our baptismal call as Christians.

The darkness shall not overcome us because God has stepped into it, has shown and given us the light, and because he leads us into the light for all eternity. As the Book of Revelation says:

God’s dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain. … They will look upon his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. Night will be no more, nor will they need light from lamp or sun, for the Lord God shall give them light, and they shall reign forever and ever (21:3-4; 22:4-5).

A MOST BLESSED
AND LIGHT-FILLED
CHRISTMAS TO ALL !!!

 

What are we waiting for?

Waiting is a period of learning. The longer we wait the more we hear about him for whom we are waiting. As Advent progresses, we hear more and more about the beauty and splendor of the One who is to come.

But Advent does not lead to nervous tension stemming from expectation of something spectacular about to happen. On the contrary, it leads to a growing inner stillness and joy allowing me to realize that he for whom I am waiting has already arrived and speaks to me in the silence of my heart.

Just as a mother feels the child grow in her and is not surprised on the day of the birth but joyfully receives the one she learned to know during her waiting, so Jesus can be born in my life slowly and steadily and be received as the one I learned to know while waiting.

-- Henri J.M. Nouwen

The Genesee Diary

O Emmanuel

Sr. Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

O Emmanuel,

our King and Lawgiver,

the Expectation of all nations

and their Savior:

Come to save us,

O Lord our God.

O King of the Nations

Sr. Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

O King of the Nations,

whom they have long awaited,

the cornerstone,

who make both sides one:

Come, and save mankind,

whom you fashioned

out of clay.