Bonsai of the Kingdom of God

You can read a local newspaper's account of our ground-breaking here

Ground-breaking

Yesterday's ground-breaking ceremony was really an invigorating event. About 300 people gathered under a tent near the construction site -- which is actually the series of barns where our founders first lived 66 years ago.

We heard from a commissioner of Rockdale County, the mayor of Conyers, the archbishop of Atlanta, the bishop of Savannah (when we were founded, we were part of the Savannah-Atlanta diocese that was later split in two), the chair of the Arabia Mountain National Heritage Area (of which we are a part -- the "spiritual gateway"), and various friends and donors, including a well-known football coach from a large state university not too far away. Listening to all the speakers, who were all brief, amusing, and interesting, I got a good picture of how this place fits within a lot of larger places and institutions and how it has touched a number of lives.

Here is a picture of me with the bishop of Savannah:

My friends George and Irene came and left me with 2 books for my beach reading. (My beach is my bed.) I am already well into Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It is amusing so far -- although I continue to refuse to even consider reading Android Karenina. There are some boundaries that are not to be crossed!

Br. Tom

Br. Tom died this morning during Vigils. The toll bell began ringing about 5 a.m. just as I was heating my instant grits. We gathered around his bed to pray some simple prayers and the Salve.

Aged 79, he had spent more than a decade bed-ridden in our infirmary. He had a motorized chair-bed that allowed him to travel to the Retreat House to help out in the kitchen every Friday or Saturday and to come to Mass on Sunday. His nurse and a monk would hold doors open for him. During the day he made rosaries from colored string; these were sold in our store.

Tom was a stubborn, cantankerous old man who loved to tell stories about difficulties with other people that ended in his telling them off. He had a heart of gold that brought many friends. He was such a wonderful mixture of a man. Every night monks would gather around his bed to pray the rosary; it was always preceded by Tom's long list of people and needs to pray for.

He entered the community when he was 15 and worked hard all his life on the farm and in the garage.

His last illness was sudden and did not last long -- about a week of pneumonia which did not respond to antibiotics. He had asked to remain here at home where he received IV fluids and medication.

Many of our friends will miss him greatly. I anticipate a large crowd for his funeral -- which will probably take place this Friday.

My little window for the store

This image is not one we saw on our church tour. It is a photo of one of my creations -- a copy of a Russian icon, done as a stained glass piece. This is one of several I have done. I am experimenting with different painting on the face and on the halo.

Atlanta churches

Yesterday the four members of the stained glass studio traveled through Atlanta and its suburbs to visit eight churches with windows designed and constructed by the monastery. I was impressed at a number of the designs and at the various painting techniques used on some of the windows. We took photos so that we have some record of this work from the past. I will post some of the pictures later.

Le Thoronet

I am reading The Stones of the Abbey by Fernand Pouillon. It is a novel that describes the building of a Cistercian monastery in Provence at the end of the 12th century.

I have seen pictures of the abbey, still largely intact, although uninhabited. It appears golden.

Pouillon describes the quarrying of the stone, the rough hewing of the blocks, and the effect of the changing Provençal sunlight on the rough surface.

If anyone would like to take a Cistercian cicerone on a brief trip to view this monastery in southern France, please get in contact with me.

Rainy return

We have had rain all day long -- thunder and lightning in the early morning; steady strong rain ever since. I got soaked walking down to the bakery this morning to help make fruitcakes. I weigh each cake to make sure it has sufficient batter; when the first batch was baked, I put on heavy mitts and arranged the hot pans on the table; I used a paint brush to cover the tops with apricot glaze. This was work that will be usual for a Monday morning from now until September.

The two weeks away are a memory. All the juniors (monks and nuns in temporary vows) from the American region met at Gethsemani for a conference. The first week we had sessions with Mother Agnes, the former abbess of our monastery in Wrentham, MA. She read a series of meditative reflections she had written several decades ago. They stimulated a lot of conversation and shared experiences. The second week, Dom Thomas, the former abbot of our monastery in Vina, CA, presented classes that covered issues from The Life of Benedict by Gregory the Great.

In the afternoons we were able to do a lot of different things: tour the monastic work areas, study in the library, hike the local knobs, visit Merton's hermitage, pull weeds, and so on. One evening, we listened to a piano recital (Mozart and Liszt) by one of our juniors; we also watched Wise Blood, the movie based on the novel by Flannery O'Connor. (The monks at Gethsemani are listening to Brad Gooch's recently published biography of Flannery.) It was a pleasant break in routine; I was glad to be home, even if it means I will no longer have a private bathroom with long, wide, fluffy bath towels.