Monday

When I got to the refectory about 3:20 this morning, Basil was running the dishwasher. I did not shave because I do not shave on Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays. When I entered church, I saw that Louis was not seated at the organ, because we chant Vigils a capella on weekdays. It is Monday.

Flex time

When I awoke this morning, I realized it was Monday and thought through my day, which includes a Work Council meeting. Usually I leave the plan for the novices' work in Br. Augustine's mail drawer on Sunday afternoon. I knew I had not done that yesterday afternoon, so I planned to get in before Vigils, which would still give him time to review it before the council meeting at 8:30. I made my bed and went down through the refectory. I was surprised to see that Basil was not running the dish washer even though it was already 3:20. He is usually doing that on weekday mornings. I checked the calendar by the reading room to see whether he was taking a second January retreat day. If he was, I would need to assign a novice to wash breakfast dishes after Mass. He had not written in a retreat day, so I figured he must be ill or sleeping late, both of which are rare for Basil. As I was preparing to shower I noticed that the white boxers I usually wear on Sunday were still in the clean basket. I figured I would wear them this Wednesday when we have a special Vespers and dinner with the archdiocesan consecrated religious. I showered, but did not shave because I skip shaving on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I dressed, drank my grapefruit juice, put on my cloak and headed to church. The lights were on early and Louis was at the organ. That was odd -- we sing Vigils a capella on weekdays. I checked the hymn ordo for another unexpected solemnity. Only then, after nearly an hour of being "awake" did I realize it was Sunday. I shaved after Vigils.

Crucifixion

Here is a window I designed and completed the other day. I made two of them -- they are about the size of a regular sheet of paper.

Raintree County

I have had the novel Raintree County sitting by my bed for months. Because it is over 1000 pages, I wanted to make sure I saw a stretch of time I could devote to reading it. Such a stretch seems to have opened.

A web site has a lot of information about this best-seller from the late 1940s. Set in a fictional Indiana county, the novel tells the story of John Wickliff Shawnessy -- and of the American nation in the middle of the 19th century. It has an experimental form with chapters telling the events of one day (July 4, 1892) alternating with chapters telling of past events.

The movie version, with Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor, and Eva Marie Saint, is very much a simplification of the novel. During the filming of Raintree County, Clift had a car accident that damaged his face. You can see the difference in the movie. Here is a bit on the making of the movie. And here is the trailer. Nat King Cole sang the theme song.

No one in the cast managed a Hoosier accent -- even though characters comment on it. (And Elizabeth's speech, as a Georgia belle, is excruciatingly inexact. Maybe it is better no one tried a Hoosier accent.)

But, so far (about 100 pages) the novel is interesting in its evocation of the Midwest in the 1840s and 1850s. I'll see how it develops. . .

Vocation Awareness Week

This morning we heard this bit from No Man Is an Island by Thomas Merton:

Each one of us has some kind of vocation. We are all called by God to share in His life and in His Kingdom. Each one of us is called to a special place in the Kingdom. If we find that place we will be happy. If we do not find it, we can never be completely happy. For each one of us, there is only one thing necessary: to fulfill our own destiny, according to God's will, to be what God wants us to be.

We must not imagine that we only discover this destiny by a game of hide-and-seek with Divine Providence. Our vocation is not a sphinx's riddle, which we must solve in one guess or else perish. Some people find, in the end, that they have made many wrong guesses and that their paradoxical vocation is to go through life guessing wrong. It takes them a long time to find out that they are happier that way.

In any case, our destiny is the work of two wills, not one. It is not an immutable fate, forced upon us without any choice of our own, by a divinity without heart.

Our vocation is not a supernatural lottery but the interaction of two freedoms, and, therefore, of two loves. It is hopeless to try to settle the problem of vocation outside the context of friendship and of love. We speak of Providence: that is a philosophical term. The Bible speaks of our Father in Heaven. Providence is, consequently, more than an institution, it is a person. More than a benevolent stranger, He is our Father. And even the term Father is too loose a metaphor to contain all the depths of the mystery: for He loves us more than we love ourselves, as if we were Himself. He loves us moreover with our own wills, with our own decisions. How can we understand the mystery of our union with God Who is closer to us than we are to ourselves? It is His very closeness that makes it difficult for us to think of Him. He Who is infinitely above us, infinitely different from ourselves, infinitely "other" from us, nevertheless dwells in our souls, watches over every movement of our life with as much love as if we were His own self. His love is at work bringing good out of all our mistakes and defeating even our sins.

In planning the course of our lives, we must remember the importance and the dignity of our own freedom. A man who fears to settle his future by a good act of his own free choice does not understand the love of God. For our freedom is a gift God has given us in order that He may be able to love us more perfectly, and be loved by us more perfectly in return.

Speculum caritatis: Aelred of Rievaulx

And because there is no division in unity,
let there be no outpouring of the mind in various directions,
but let it be one in the One,
with the One,
through the One,
around the One,
sensing the One,
savoring the One --
and because always one,
always resting,
and therefore observing a perpetual sabbath.

from The Mirror of Charity, translated by Elizabeth Connor

Et quia in unitate nulla divisio,
nulla sit ibi per diversa mentis effusio,
sed sit unum in uno,
cum uno,
per unum,
circa unum,
unum sentiens,
unum sapiens;
et quia semper unum,
semper requiescens,
et sic perenne sabbatum sabbatizans.

No mail in snow

Yes, it is true. We had no mail because the mail truck could not get into Conyers. (Please stop laughing, Michigan nephew.)

Here are some pictures of our snow at the monastery:

The world stops

There is enough snow to cover the grass. It is still falling.

No one ventures out on the roads.

I can see my Michigan nephew shaking his head in bewilderment.

However, it is a perfect day to wear those fur-lined boots I received at Christmas from California!

Another new novice

Today in our weekly chapter meeting after Sunday Mass, we clothed another novice, the second one in 2 weeks. We now have a new Brother Antony. Last week we added Father Brendan.

In our abbot's talk he mentioned that this vocation is a rare one. There are only about 3000 Cistercian monks in the whole world. He recalled a picture in our calendar a couple of years ago that showed our novice master with 7 or 8 novices. I am the only one of the group who is still here. That rate of attrition is fairly normal.

I am not quite sure what it takes to stay. Most of what is found here -- prayer, quiet, simplicity -- can be managed in other ways away from here. In fact, I think I am part of a rather large carbon footprint -- my part being much larger than the carbon footprint I was leaving before I entered.

Over and over in my journal I have written about the necessity of accepting crazy decisions or weird processes or just general insanity. That certainly is one of the elements of a monastic vocation: this particular collection of men, with all their idiosyncracies and quirks and irritants, is really a means of leading toward God. In learning to love this irritating guy just as a person worthy of love I am an inch closer to loving God.

It all gets down to finding peace with the other. It is so easy to want people to be like me. Can I actually accept, affirm, welcome, and love those who are so wackily different?

30-day challenge

I read yesterday about 30-day blog challenges: post once a day for 30 days. I looked at some of the challenges and their suggestions for the daily posts: post a picture of yourself, tell about your favorite song, what's your favorite movie? -- and so on.

I have decided not to accept any of these challenges.

Glass

I took over many small stained glass pieces to the store today: several of our crosses, several of our mothers with child, and a lot of random shapes, some with painted designs, some plain.

I am working on a new design. So is Mario. We will see what comes of them.

We finished the cartoons for four large windows for a church in Grendada: Saint Andrew (with Caribbean species of fish -- the church is dedicated to Andrew); Saint Dominic (the church was founded by Dominicans); Mary (in a Dominican habit, holding some nutmeg, which is grown in Grenada); and Christ. Methodius took them up to Statesville where they will be cut, assembled, and packaged for shipping by our sub-contractors.

Here is window that our stained glass studios designed and installed in an Atlanta church several decades ago. It is the baptism of Jesus, which we will celebrate this coming Sunday. Look carefully at all the painted lines that create the patterns.

Christmas cheer

Since I stopped posting in part because I had so much trouble posting pictures here, let me try one today. If it works, it will be a photo Fr. James took at our Christmas Day festive meal:

Happy New Year

I am not making a resolution to post here more regularly. If I made such a resolution, I would not keep it.

I am merely posting today -- and I do have the intention to post a couple of times a week. But, it is just an intention, not a resolution. Don't confuse the two.

I went to bed by 9:00 last night -- as I have for years, even before I came to a monastery. I slept through midnight, as I have for years. Mark tells me that some of our neighbors lit a lot of firecrackers at midnight. They were so loud, he thought they were in our back yard. But I heard nothing.

At Vigils I had to sing a responsary for our Third Nocturn. It was one of the loveliest melodies we have: "O most pure and holy Virgin, how can I find the words to praise your beauty!"

The homily that Augustine preached at Mass today was lovely. I suggest you look for it on our web page It is not posted yet, but you can listen to some of Fr. Matt's from this past week, if you want. Or try an earlier one of Augustine's -- he is always very thoughtful and makes very clear links to our life here.

Happy New Year!