The process of discernment leading to monastic profession is fairly simple and straightforward (well, except for all the interior anguish and self-examination). After a number of years, including at least three in which the monk professes vows for a limited time, he may petition the abbot to make his life-time solemn profession. The abbot consults his counsel; takes it to the conventual chapter (all the solemnly professed monks with stability in the house); they vote to approve or not; and the monk moves toward a Mass in which he makes his vows for life.
September 9, 2011, was the date I would normally present my petition. However, our abbot was attending the General Chapter of abbots and abbesses in Assisi. So, I waited for him to return. When he returned in October, he was sick. He needed to visit our daughter house in Venezuela to prepare for an election in December. I presented my petition at the end of October.
More sickness. More travel. Lots of seasonal work for Christmas.
The abbot did not meet with his counsel until just after Christmas. They approved me to be presented to the conventual chapter.
So, Thursday evening, December 29, 2011, the conventual chapter met. The junior master presented me (I was not actually present -- this is a virtual presentation.) Each monk in turn responded with his impressions of me. I will not be told what anyone said. This is purely about the house discerning.
Tomorrow, Sunday, January 1, 2011, each member of the conventual chapter will secretly place either a white marble or a black marble into a closed container. It takes a simple majority to be approved for solemn profession.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Last Friday
A week ago was our last day at our daughter house in Venezuela.
In the morning I was assigned to wrap packages. Lorenzo and I found all the toys that Juan Diego has bought for the children of the monastery's employees. Using colorful paper (that tore easily) and tape (that was brittle) and scissors (that were blunt) I managed to wrap tops, lotto games, dolls, and so on. My favorite were some little boxes that contained wiggly wooden creatures inside: a butterfly, a snail, an insect.
We left the monastery about 1:30 to return to El Vigia for a flight back to Caracas. This day the tunnels through the mountain were open, so the trip took us just over an hour. Quite a difference!
We spent the night in a hotel that was down the street from a dance club. Neither of us slept too much. The next morning we took the shuttle back to the international airport, managed to get on board with our stand-by passes, and returned to Atlanta Saturday afternoon.
A Venezuelan butterfly
In the morning I was assigned to wrap packages. Lorenzo and I found all the toys that Juan Diego has bought for the children of the monastery's employees. Using colorful paper (that tore easily) and tape (that was brittle) and scissors (that were blunt) I managed to wrap tops, lotto games, dolls, and so on. My favorite were some little boxes that contained wiggly wooden creatures inside: a butterfly, a snail, an insect.
We left the monastery about 1:30 to return to El Vigia for a flight back to Caracas. This day the tunnels through the mountain were open, so the trip took us just over an hour. Quite a difference!
We spent the night in a hotel that was down the street from a dance club. Neither of us slept too much. The next morning we took the shuttle back to the international airport, managed to get on board with our stand-by passes, and returned to Atlanta Saturday afternoon.
A Venezuelan butterfly
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Thursday's Election
Last Thursday, December 15, was the election of the new prior. This was the reason that we had journeyed to Venezuela. Six years ago, Dom Placido had been elected and his term was up.
So, this morning the four solemnly professed monks met with their father immediate (our abbot) presiding, Sister Ester as secretary, and two witnesses (Raul and another religious who serves as an advisor). Lorenzo and I had the morning to ourselves until the bell rang to announce the results of the election. After an hour, during which I did some laundry, the bell rang and Lorenzo and I went to the chapter room to learn that Dom Placido had been re-elected for another term.
At lunch we had a special birthday cake for Brother Tomas who had come for the day from the hospital in Merida where he is receiving chemo therapy. In the evening we had a special talking meal to celebrate the successful election.
Fr. Raul, me, Lorenzo, the back of Sister Ester, Dom Placido, Br. Juan Diego in the refectory for our talking celebration. The doors to the kitchen are at the back.
So, this morning the four solemnly professed monks met with their father immediate (our abbot) presiding, Sister Ester as secretary, and two witnesses (Raul and another religious who serves as an advisor). Lorenzo and I had the morning to ourselves until the bell rang to announce the results of the election. After an hour, during which I did some laundry, the bell rang and Lorenzo and I went to the chapter room to learn that Dom Placido had been re-elected for another term.
At lunch we had a special birthday cake for Brother Tomas who had come for the day from the hospital in Merida where he is receiving chemo therapy. In the evening we had a special talking meal to celebrate the successful election.
Fr. Raul, me, Lorenzo, the back of Sister Ester, Dom Placido, Br. Juan Diego in the refectory for our talking celebration. The doors to the kitchen are at the back.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Wednesday in Venezuela: Juan de la Cruz
The backbone of any monastic day is the series of offices: Vigils in the dark of early morning; Lauds in the morning light; Mass; Terce, Sext and None, arranged in the center of the day; Vespers in the evening; and Compline just before sleep. Psalms are chanted at each office; scripture is read; prayers are offered. This is all part of the long tradition of "chewing" on the word; murmuring the psalms; when reading meant vocalizing words. We have made much of this interior -- we stop children from sub-vocalizing as they read, yet this was a characteristic of medieval monastic life, when the sound of monks reading in the cloister was like a buzzing of bees.
The offices at Nuestra Senora de los Andes are prayed antiphonally, each of two sides taking turns. The monks sit on benches with slanted lecterns in front of them. I sat on a bench between Lorenzo (the postulant) and Raul (from Chile). Behind us was Juan Diego (the busy cellarer who had many tasks that kept him in Merida). On the other side sat FM, Dom Placido and Br. Tomas, with Sister Ester on the bench behind.
Because I know the psalms, I was easily able to comprehend the Spanish. I did not feel left out at all, but was able to join in with the fluid chant.
After Terce on Wednesday (the feast of John of the Cross), I was assigned work in the coffee business. I walked down the mountain with Lorenzo and Raul. At a fork in the road, Raul took me to the left, while Lorenzo proceeded on down the road to packing. Raul led me to a large cement slab between two buildings.
The buildings are arranged on a slope where a road winds around them along the mountain. A truck is able to stop beside the second floor of a building, unload coffee from the field. The conchas are removed with a machine on the second floor and the granos are then dropped down to the first floor. Here they are placed in wheel barrows or in piles just in front of the building.
The cement slab in front of this building is for drying the granos in the sun. This was my work for the day. Raul dumped barrows full of beans on the slab. He showed me how to use a large wooden rake to spread the beans, moving in ever widening circles. I had to remove my boots in order to walk over the beans. The beans were white.
We had about six or seven piles of beans to work. Every 20 minutes or so, we would rake through them again. The rakes are heavy. The beans resistant. It is hard work. During the breaks, Raul asked me questions about Conyers; I asked him about his home monastery. He was tolerant of my meager Spanish.
Mid-morning, we walked down the slope to the torrefaccion building where they roast, grind, and pack the beans. (Fr. TF from Conyers has stayed to help out on several occasions. He has trouble saying torrefaccion (roasting) and calls this building Torre-Londres (Tower of London). Lorenzo told me this, laughing.)We had some coffee with sugar. I watched Lorenzo and Pedro package some beans. Then, Raul and I headed back up to our work.
The packed coffee is sent to various places. It is rumored that President Chavez drinks coffee from Los Andes. However, the rules he has put in place do not make it easy to export coffee. The shipment we need in Conyers for Christmas mail orders is still sitting in a warehouse in Venezuela, even though all the paper work has been completed and approved.
Off to the side of the cement slab, just over the edge of the slope, a bird (a kite, I think) hovered in mid-air, held up on an up-draft.
About 11:00, we had to scoop back up all the beans and put them back into wheelbarrows to dump them against the building again. I scooped and bent and emptied and pushed and dumped the wheelbarrow and returned to scoop and dump and empty again and again.
When work was finished, I was tired. So, the walk back to the monastery UP HILL was an added humiliation.
After Sext we had lunch of rice and black beans. The sweet fruit, lechosa, grows all around on small trees. The fruit is large and looks inside and out like a mango. Its flavor is reminiscent of a mango. The monks are listening to a biography of Simon Bolivar.
After a meal, all the monks gather in the kitchen to wash and rinse dishes. On each side of a wide counter are two sinks. Two monks wash, two rinse. I was one who rinsed each day.
The offices at Nuestra Senora de los Andes are prayed antiphonally, each of two sides taking turns. The monks sit on benches with slanted lecterns in front of them. I sat on a bench between Lorenzo (the postulant) and Raul (from Chile). Behind us was Juan Diego (the busy cellarer who had many tasks that kept him in Merida). On the other side sat FM, Dom Placido and Br. Tomas, with Sister Ester on the bench behind.
Because I know the psalms, I was easily able to comprehend the Spanish. I did not feel left out at all, but was able to join in with the fluid chant.
After Terce on Wednesday (the feast of John of the Cross), I was assigned work in the coffee business. I walked down the mountain with Lorenzo and Raul. At a fork in the road, Raul took me to the left, while Lorenzo proceeded on down the road to packing. Raul led me to a large cement slab between two buildings.
The buildings are arranged on a slope where a road winds around them along the mountain. A truck is able to stop beside the second floor of a building, unload coffee from the field. The conchas are removed with a machine on the second floor and the granos are then dropped down to the first floor. Here they are placed in wheel barrows or in piles just in front of the building.
The cement slab in front of this building is for drying the granos in the sun. This was my work for the day. Raul dumped barrows full of beans on the slab. He showed me how to use a large wooden rake to spread the beans, moving in ever widening circles. I had to remove my boots in order to walk over the beans. The beans were white.
We had about six or seven piles of beans to work. Every 20 minutes or so, we would rake through them again. The rakes are heavy. The beans resistant. It is hard work. During the breaks, Raul asked me questions about Conyers; I asked him about his home monastery. He was tolerant of my meager Spanish.
Mid-morning, we walked down the slope to the torrefaccion building where they roast, grind, and pack the beans. (Fr. TF from Conyers has stayed to help out on several occasions. He has trouble saying torrefaccion (roasting) and calls this building Torre-Londres (Tower of London). Lorenzo told me this, laughing.)We had some coffee with sugar. I watched Lorenzo and Pedro package some beans. Then, Raul and I headed back up to our work.
The packed coffee is sent to various places. It is rumored that President Chavez drinks coffee from Los Andes. However, the rules he has put in place do not make it easy to export coffee. The shipment we need in Conyers for Christmas mail orders is still sitting in a warehouse in Venezuela, even though all the paper work has been completed and approved.
Off to the side of the cement slab, just over the edge of the slope, a bird (a kite, I think) hovered in mid-air, held up on an up-draft.
About 11:00, we had to scoop back up all the beans and put them back into wheelbarrows to dump them against the building again. I scooped and bent and emptied and pushed and dumped the wheelbarrow and returned to scoop and dump and empty again and again.
When work was finished, I was tired. So, the walk back to the monastery UP HILL was an added humiliation.
After Sext we had lunch of rice and black beans. The sweet fruit, lechosa, grows all around on small trees. The fruit is large and looks inside and out like a mango. Its flavor is reminiscent of a mango. The monks are listening to a biography of Simon Bolivar.
After a meal, all the monks gather in the kitchen to wash and rinse dishes. On each side of a wide counter are two sinks. Two monks wash, two rinse. I was one who rinsed each day.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Tuesday in Venezuela
After sleeping a few hours, FM and I were awake and down in the lobby for the shuttle back to the airport. The terminal is long and has two sections, one for international flights, one for national flights. Today we were headed to the national flights.
We got in and found Laser airlines. Many people were gathered around, all speaking Spanish! We worked our way forward, got our boarding passes and headed to the gate. Laser tends to stay pretty close to schedule and we left only about a quarter hour late.
We landed in El Vigia about an hour later. Pedro, one of the monastery employees who had worked for a while in Conyers, met us and loaded us into a van. There is a tunnel through mountains to Estanquez that gets us to the monastery in about an hour. Because of recent rains and falling rock, the tunnel was closed, so we started on an alternative route that would take about three hours to travel.
First we moved through a grassy, wooded plain. Pedro explained that off to the right was Lake Maracaibo. If you look on a map you can see that we were to the east of the southern part of the large lake.
We turned on the mountain road and headed into the mountains. There were sheer falls off the side of the road, views of valleys stretching off into the distance, towns perched on the edge of the mountain with colorfully painted houses. We went through Tovar and Las Cruces. (You can find these on a map and see what a long way around this was, in contrast to the fairly straight and short connection between El Vigia and Estanquez. If you focus on Merida on the map, then zoom in and move about, you can find some of these places.)
At Estanquez we began the climb up the final mountain with a series of switch back turns obscured with tall grasses. I learned that drivers are very careful here and give way to oncoming drivers. Pedro knew just what he was doing. (I cannot imagine how I could make it up -- or down -- this road with a stick shift. I think I would burn out two or three clutches each journey.)
A final descent along an even bumpier road took us to the monastery, a beautiful white construction on the side of the mountain. It is a long structure with a bend along the way, all around an open courtyard. Tile floors. White walls. There is no heating or cooling needed -- although some extra blankets or sweaters are useful in the night.
Placido, the abbot, met us and showed us our rooms in the infirmary wing. Each of these rooms has its own bathroom, so they house short-term guests here.
The refectory is a spacious room whose large windows look out on the mountains across the valley. We had lentils, cauliflower, fried plantains, and fruit. The community is small with only 4 solemnly professed monks, one of whom is being treated for cancer in Merida. They have a young, pleasant, energetic postulant; a sister from one of our houses who is staying and helping out with work; and a monk from a Chilean house who has been here several times to help out.
The place felt damp. It is the rainy season and by the late afternoon the clouds had settled into the monastery. There were no mountain views from the windows, only cloud, dripping water.
We got in and found Laser airlines. Many people were gathered around, all speaking Spanish! We worked our way forward, got our boarding passes and headed to the gate. Laser tends to stay pretty close to schedule and we left only about a quarter hour late.
We landed in El Vigia about an hour later. Pedro, one of the monastery employees who had worked for a while in Conyers, met us and loaded us into a van. There is a tunnel through mountains to Estanquez that gets us to the monastery in about an hour. Because of recent rains and falling rock, the tunnel was closed, so we started on an alternative route that would take about three hours to travel.
First we moved through a grassy, wooded plain. Pedro explained that off to the right was Lake Maracaibo. If you look on a map you can see that we were to the east of the southern part of the large lake.
We turned on the mountain road and headed into the mountains. There were sheer falls off the side of the road, views of valleys stretching off into the distance, towns perched on the edge of the mountain with colorfully painted houses. We went through Tovar and Las Cruces. (You can find these on a map and see what a long way around this was, in contrast to the fairly straight and short connection between El Vigia and Estanquez. If you focus on Merida on the map, then zoom in and move about, you can find some of these places.)
At Estanquez we began the climb up the final mountain with a series of switch back turns obscured with tall grasses. I learned that drivers are very careful here and give way to oncoming drivers. Pedro knew just what he was doing. (I cannot imagine how I could make it up -- or down -- this road with a stick shift. I think I would burn out two or three clutches each journey.)
A final descent along an even bumpier road took us to the monastery, a beautiful white construction on the side of the mountain. It is a long structure with a bend along the way, all around an open courtyard. Tile floors. White walls. There is no heating or cooling needed -- although some extra blankets or sweaters are useful in the night.
Placido, the abbot, met us and showed us our rooms in the infirmary wing. Each of these rooms has its own bathroom, so they house short-term guests here.
The refectory is a spacious room whose large windows look out on the mountains across the valley. We had lentils, cauliflower, fried plantains, and fruit. The community is small with only 4 solemnly professed monks, one of whom is being treated for cancer in Merida. They have a young, pleasant, energetic postulant; a sister from one of our houses who is staying and helping out with work; and a monk from a Chilean house who has been here several times to help out.
The place felt damp. It is the rainy season and by the late afternoon the clouds had settled into the monastery. There were no mountain views from the windows, only cloud, dripping water.
Monday, December 19, 2011
A week ago: Leaving for Venezuela
A week ago, Monday, December 12, our abbot and I left to visit our daughter house near Estanques, in the state of Merida, in Venezuela.
Fr. Methodius drove us to the airport around 1:00 for a flight that was scheduled to leave at 5:30. We were on stand-by. We waited, watching for the list of names. We both made it on and took off, about an hour late, delayed because of an exchange of planes.
We arrived in Caracas around 11:00, went through customs, and found the shuttle to the Hotel Eurobuilding where we had a room reserved. We slept for a few hours and got up to take the shuttle back to the National airport for a flight to El Vigia on Tuesday morning.
Fr. Methodius drove us to the airport around 1:00 for a flight that was scheduled to leave at 5:30. We were on stand-by. We waited, watching for the list of names. We both made it on and took off, about an hour late, delayed because of an exchange of planes.
We arrived in Caracas around 11:00, went through customs, and found the shuttle to the Hotel Eurobuilding where we had a room reserved. We slept for a few hours and got up to take the shuttle back to the National airport for a flight to El Vigia on Tuesday morning.
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