Week 52...

Friends,
Sister is off for one week at the beach! (We rent a house at Kitty Hawk, NC, and go down in groups of 3-4.) I should surface at the Richmond office on Monday, 7/27. Until then know that all who visit "Monastics on a Journey" will remain in my grateful prayers...

Blessings and love to you all...
- Sister Vicki

On my way home...

I’ve been on the dark side of the moon – figuratively speaking. Although the wi-fi was plentiful at St. Ben’s, I didn’t have the same luck at St. John’s. I’ve just boarded the second plane of the day. This one is direct to Dulles from Minneapolis/St. Paul.With two hours of “air time”, a blog is inevitable (and certainly long-overdue.) The liturgy meeting was wonderful, as was seeing folks from my past. (I moved to MN ten years ago to do graduate work and remained until 2002.) There are some people who just embody St. John’s. Catching up with these good people is always a joy. One encounter, though, was not as joyful. I met a woman who I had known just casually ten years ago. She’s living with a stage 4 cancer. I’d know her beautiful face anywhere in spite of her baldness. She’s going without scarf or wig which provides an instant reality check for those who see her. I did what people do. “How are you doing?” She responded, “One day at a time.” I felt my question wholly inadequate, almost intrusive, though that would never be my intent. I will pray for her, without fail. Yet, I feel as if even that lacks something.

I guess we can never know what another person is experiencing - even if it’s someone we love fiercely. Illness can be a hermitage – a lonely place where only GOD can touch the pain – help us navigate this new place of unknowing. When those we love enter this hermitage, all we can do is stand by the door and wait patiently. We can go no farther until we are invited. But once that door is opened from the inside, we can be with them. It won’t mean understanding the spiritual work that is in progress, or taking away the physical burdens that constrain a life that longs to be lived to the full. But we can visit them in the hermitage – listen with the ear of the heart, wipe away the tears or just cry with them, affirm the life force that fuels both the suffering body and the searching soul, and assure them of love which is their present share in the life that never ends. We can do all this and we must. For we who are healthy are blessed by those for whom each breath is gift. We who are healthy forget all too easily how very precious and precarious life is in the body. I hope when it’s my turn to enter the hermitage of illness, someone will love me enough to wait patiently at the door.

Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki

My other monastery...

I'm traveling again. This time it's a liturgy meeting at St. John's Abbey in Collegeville, MN. The meeting begins on Monday but I flew out a few days early to work on a separate liturgy project with a sister at St. Benedict's Monastery - 4 miles from St. John's. Here's the blessing - I get to work with one of my favorite people in one of my favorite places in the world.

I got to know these sisters ten years ago when I studied at St. John's. I would come over every Sunday for the Eucharist. There was something here I needed and though it took some time to unpack, I soon figured out that I needed to be with these good women as much as possible. So, I got "involved" - the liturgist trained me to be a lector and the ushers trained me to do hospitality. Though I lived four miles away and prayed morning and evening with monks, St. Ben's became my "parish" - the place where my spirit was strengthened and my soul refreshed.

Yesterday, I spent the summer feast of Saint Benedict in my other monastery. I was witness to a perpetual monastic profession and a first monastic profession all in one day! Sister Trish received the ring and Novice Karen became Sister Karen. What joy filled this house! The altar and ambo were covered in multi-colored cloth dyed and woven by a sister-artisan. The flowers were cut from the massive garden here - tall, triumphant lilies. And the music...dear GOD, the music! I only wept once - pretty good for me. Something in the music here usually gets to me. The memories of being nurtured and sustained in this place flood back when the schola sings. Without these sturdy, gracious, faithful women, I would have lost my nerve and left my studies in favor of the new life I'd found in Bristow, Virginia. Sharing in their life sustained my desire for community as I ticked off the weeks, months and years until graduation.

I have often thought about the mystery of stability - why a monastic belongs in a particular community. Only GOD can explain the purpose of each vocation - how a soul is planted in just the right monastic soil. I am, and will always be, a Benedictine Sister of Virginia. Yet, there is a part of me that will always feel "at home" here at St. Ben's.

Blessings, love to you all and happy feast!

- Sister Vicki

A plug for YAM...

"YAM" stands for Young Adult Ministry. I suspect there is such a group in every diocese. The group here in Richmond is particularly vibrant. Last night I had the privilege of being the kick-off speaker in a series called, "Summer Theologica." Young adults gather every Tuesday in the month of July at different parishes throughout the diocese. Four topics, four different speakers mean lots of variety and "something for everyone." What most excites me is that "Summer Theologica" is entirely planned and promoted by the young adults, themselves. OK...that means under 40 in these parts. (Speakers get a break on the age thing.) The good news is that there are three more Tuesdays remaining. For information about the topics, speakers and locations, you can visit the YAM page on the diocesan website. It's a wonderful thing when people of faith gather to share the joys and challenges of living the Gospel in the world. After one evening with the YAM contingent, I am certain the future of our Church is in loving hands.

Blessings and love to you all...
- Sister Vicki

Where it all began...

I fell in love with cooking in the late 60’s. From time to time, I’d find myself at Mamie’s house – my maternal grandmother. I don’t know where my sibs were, or why I was occasionally left in her care, but I remember days spent there alone. I adored Mamie and having her all to my self was grand. First, Mamie would make us a “lady lunch” – usually a sandwich I’d eat cut in four with the crusts cut off. She’d let me play in her closet and in the attic. I was more into antiquities than “dress-up”, but it was great knowing that I could play with anything of hers. In the afternoon I’d sit in Mamie’s lap in her easy chair and we’d watch her “story” – aka “As the World Turns.” Then, and this was my favorite moment, we’d watch Julia Child cook.

I was fascinated by her – the voice, the laughter in her kitchen and thrilled when she’d do something my grandmother didn’t approve of. Mamie thought Julia was a mess. I thought Julia was better than any other TV star in my repertoire – Mr. Rodgers, Big Bird, even "Samantha Stevens" who could cook with a twitch of her nose! Such began a love affair with TV chefs that went on through the 70’s.

After a 25 year hiatus from culinary television, the prioress’ decision to send me to Richmond meant manyblessings including access to the Food Network. Now, "The Barefoot Contessa” and Giada are my tutors - so many chefs now…so many concepts. Now, a Benedictine sister can have a no-budget “show” on YouTube. Yet, there will be no chef who claims my heart as Julia did. Julia cooked with wild abandon. She invaded the Paris food scene full of wonder and without guile. And, I suspect, she loved to eat her own food as much as she enjoyed a quintessential Parisian meal. Now, when I cook something really wonderful, I imagine her raising a glass and saying in that wonderful, warbling way, “Bon appétit!”

Blessings and love to you all...

- Sister Vicki

Woman at a different well...

Last Saturday evening, I attended at Vigil Mass in Alexander City, AL. The next morning I attending a non-denominational Christian worship service at the Church of the Living Waters – an outdoor prayer space on the shore of Lake Martin. I am what many call, “a cradle Catholic.” It is the only faith I’ve known. Sometimes, I think it might even be in my genetic code somewhere. I’ve often wondered about the gift of faith in Christ. It comes with so many graces. Because I have faith I can find Him wherever He is – in my sisters, in the WORD, in simple loaf of bread, in a wooden cathedral by a lake. The service was very beautiful – good Baptist hymns, excellent preaching, awesome hospitality. It was a moment of grace in a very special weekend. Christ is true to His word: “Wherever two or three of you are gathered in my name, there also shall I be.”

Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki

In search of a new name...

The no-budget cooking show on YouTube needs a new name. Both "Nun Better" and "Nun Like It" seem to be taken. I need some help. If you can think of a new name for our show, I'd be so grateful if you'd send me an e-mail. I'll gather the submissions and let the sisters decide. vocations@osbva.org Thanks for thinking on it and for sharing your ideas. I'm still in Alabama. Be back in the office on Tuesday, 6/30. I'll let you all know the new name as soon as we've picked the winner.

Blessings and love to you all...

- Sister Vicki