Good Friday

I can't imagine knowing the day or the hour of my death. Death is a mystery I contemplate quite a bit, but not as if it is imminent. For some reason I can't stop thinking about the weight of Christ's self-knowledge. We know from the evangelist that Jesus wasn't born understanding everything about himself. We know the "child grew in wisdom (Luke2)." Yet during his public ministry the thought must have surfaced and receded a hundred times. The final journey to Jerusalem would be his last. Did he wonder at table that night what it would be like to die? Did he eat and drink and sing with his friends all the while slipping into a desperate sadness that would overflow in the nearby garden? Did he see those angels who came to comfort him? At what point did the fear give way to the certainty that GOD was with him? That GOD would make this selfless act the end of death itself? That beyond death there was a reality too wonderful to name or describe? I wonder... Christ's passion and death seem the point of complete cooperation - the place where humanity and divinity, in their fullness, resolve to choose love. The Word is flesh. The Son of God weeps and bleeds as we all do. But on that good Friday, so long ago, Love went where it had never gone before - into the depths of our fear and suffering - so that we'd never have to go there alone...ever again. "Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world. Come, let us worship."

Holy Thursday

He washed their feet. That carnal act of tender care never ceases to amaze me. Tonight, my prioress washed the feet of twelve willing souls – lay and monastic, male and female, young and old. It’s a powerful sight – a ritual that concretizes the gospel in a simple act of love. We are to be as he was – servant of all. It’s really that simple.

The feast that followed ushered in the new season – the great three days of Triduum. A lamb – symbol of the Paschal sacrifice – was shared among sisters and friends. Our simple dining room transformed into a banquet hall – we feasted in His honor.

It’s late for me now. But the night will go on here. We are staying awake with the Lord tonight. The Lord’s Supper and our festive banquet are past. Now, we sit and vigil before the Blessed Sacrament until midnight. Tonight, we treasure the presence of Him who will be taken from us tomorrow. We know how the story goes – unlike those poor apostles. How wonderful to stay awake an hour with Him – to strain against sleep for love of the risen One who need die no more. Even now – in risen glory – we remember his passage. We remember and we listen in the silence for the first bells of Easter. We remember and we believe.
Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki

Home for the holy days...

"Love and truth will meet; justice and peace will kiss.

Truth will spring from the earth; justice will look down from heaven.

The LORD will surely grant abundance; our land will yield its increase."
PSALM 85:11-13

Why am I always surprised?

Spring is taking hold here in the south land. My friend in Minnesota has had snow for the past two days. We are not just in two separate time zones, we are now living in two different seasons!

I could never live in a place without all four seasons. (I guess I could, but my soul would suffer considerably.) Today, the earth is bursting from its winter tomb, as it does every year. Yet, I never cease to be surprised when I wake one morning to crocus and daffodil. In Virginia spring is more glorious than you can imagine. There are flowering trees that bloom in different colors. The Cherry Blossoms, well-known in the DC region, are soft and pink. The Branford Pear trees have snow-white blossoms. But my very favorite is the Redbud tree. It's purple! Truly. Virginia has purple trees. Isn't that just magnificent?

As the bright, soft green moss covers the soil, and the dandelions dare to blossom in the grass, I wonder at GOD's brilliance. Death begets life. The Paschal Mystery itself is sewn into the pattern of creation. Perhaps, after a lifetime of springs, we accept the ultimate reality of life. "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. (John 12)."

Blessings and love to you all...

- Sister Vicki

In the kitchen again...

"...a burning and shining lamp"

The beheading of John the Baptist

by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes (1869)

In today’s gospel Jesus says of John, “He was a burning and shining lamp (John 5:35).” Oh, to have the Lord say that of me! Wouldn’t that be something? The love and respect Jesus had for John was immense. It had nothing to do with his worth or possessions. He had none but the skins on his back. It wasn’t because he was brilliant or articulate. He was a one-message man, an unrelenting voice “crying out in the wilderness.” No, it was the love of GOD indwelling that shone from John’s heart - that gave him courage, strength and the certainty that he was, in fact, preparing the way of the messiah. It was the love of GOD Jesus recognized in his cousin – a passion they both shared in earthly life.

Lent is a good time to consider what kind of “lamp” I am these days – what kind of light emanates from my soul. Not every “lamp” burns as bright. Am I smaller than others, more decorative that functional? Am I a sturdy, standard floor lamp – giving light that helps others to see? Am I a groovy, little retro lamp that looks good on the outside but offers little in the way of illumination? I want to burn and shine like John – like a real flame dancing above wick and oil. I want to trade in those wasteful bulbs for something that costs a good deal more, but offers a light that lasts a good, long time. May we all shine and burn with love for GOD - today and "unto everlasting life (Rule of Benedict, 72:12)."

Blessings and love to you all...

- Sister Vicki

Feasting with our Oblates...

On Saturday every Benedictine monastery celebrated the Feast of Saint Benedict. March 21st is the day our Holy Father entered eternal glory. It almost always falls in Lent, so the Church, in her compassion, gives monastics everywhere leave to really celebrate. (You might also know of the summer feast - July 11th - in which the universal church honors Benedict as "Patriarch of Western Monasticism.")

This year Sister did something different. Our Oblates in Richmond invited me to spend the day with them and offer a few thoughts about the season of Lent. With permission from my prioress, I readily agreed. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to pray the feast day office with nearly 20 people in the Chapel of our high school. Sisters Andrea and Charlotte Lange joined us for Morning Prayer. How lovely, for we who are on mission, to have such a festive prayer on a day when I'd normally be missing Bristow.

We decided to pray the real thing - all the special antiphons and a mode for the canticle. Our oblates were marvelous. They picked it up so quickly. The acoustics in our Chapel are just unbelievable so 20 sounded more like 30.

The retreat day went well, I think. I loved every minute of it. Sometimes, I can't believe my ministry includes such moments of grace. These good people, who are already oblates or who are in formation, gave me the gift of their faith. There is a place where people can meet in the heart - a place of wonder and oneness. I think we were there. They remain in my grateful prayers...

Blessings and love to you all...

- Sister Vicki