Benedictine Sisters of FL

Holy Name Monastery
Founded 1889

Waiting

First Sunday of Advent

by Leave a Comment

Advent is all about waiting.  But it’s not waiting for our turn because God’s line is busy.  Is it wonderful that we do not have to take turns – we don’t have to wait to be in touch!  Waiting is at the heart of Advent, active waiting.  Even when we don’t know that we are waiting, we’re waiting.  Even when we can’t find words to express what we are waiting for, we’re waiting.

For many people, Advent is an opportunity that is little understood, under-appreciated and commonly ignored.  Advent is about learning to wait.  It is about not having to know exactly what is coming tomorrow.  Advent teaches us the difference between expectation, anticipation and waiting; suspense, eagerness and “twiddling your thumbs to pass the time”.

We are waiting not just during Advent, but at all times for the advent of light; that ultimate light that is redemptive and terrifying at the same time.  It is redemptive because it puts an end to the darkness.  That is also why it is terrifying because the light reveals all that was hidden in the darkness.  For so long, actually for most of our lives, the darkness has been home.  We’ve become comfortable in our incompleteness.  Now to leave home is downright scary!  Change my ways of interacting with God and God’s people?  Whew!  Allow my rough edges to be smoothed?  That sounds irritating (no pun intended).  We are gifted with Advent time to do personal “Isaiah work” of filling in every valley; leveling every mountain so the hills will become a plain, and the rough country will be made smooth.  As the familiar banner asks:  If not now, when?

One of the ancient Advent prayers supplies us with a sentiment that Benedict echoes: “Give us grace that we may cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”  Many Advent hymns express the same theme.  For example: “When the darkness closes in, courage fails and hopes grow dim, clear the shadows from our sight, set our troubled world aright, fill our eyes with radiant light.  Come Lord Jesus, come!”

The final line of this Sunday’s selection from Matthew’s Gospel reminds us: “You must be prepared for, at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”  That does not refer only to the hour of our death.  You may remember the valuable lesson an Abbot shared with his Rabbi friend: “The messiah is among the ranks of your community”.  We are challenged to be Messiah to each other, to treat each other with gentleness, respect, and courtesy for each one is the Messiah among us.

Our conversations can turn to stories and concerns focused outward, on the other rather than the self.  There is a rare sprinkling of “I” and “my” and “mine”.”  Attention is directed away from the self to shine our light on others.  We radiate the blessings of life, not the gloom of sadness, sickness, tiredness, or woe.  We become more fully human, full of compassion and full of consciousness.  Our community Advent practices help hone the attitude of prayerfulness, almsgiving and compassion.

So, we pray: “May the God of Israel increase our longing for Jesus our Savior and give each and all of us the strength to grow in love, that the dawn of Jesus’ coming may find us rejoicing in his presence and welcoming the light of Truth.”

 

~by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB

 

 

First Reading  Isaiah 2:1-5                        
Second Reading Romans 13:11-14  
Gospel Reading  Matthew 24:37-44
Continue Reading

Waiting

by Leave a Comment

Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Advent is all about waiting.  But not sit on your-hands and see what happens kind of waiting.  Nor waiting for someone else who is talking to God to hang up.  It’s more like a glorious party line.  You can pick up (or click on at any time).  Whenever you’re ready.  It is wonderful that we do not have to take turns – we don’t have to wait to be in touch!  At the heart of Advent is ACTIVE waiting.  Even when we don’t know that we are waiting, or what we are waiting for, we’re waiting.  Even when we can’t find words for what we are waiting for, we’re waiting.

We’ve been waiting for so long, actually for most of our lives, that the darkness may feel like home.  We’ve become comfortable in our incompleteness.  Now to leave home is downright scary!  Change my ways of interacting with God and God’s people?  Whew!  Allow my rough edges to be smoothed – mmmm, sounds irritating (no pun intended).  We are gifted with Advent-time to do personal “Isaiah work” of filling in every valley; leveling every mountain so the hills will become a plain, and the rough ways made smooth.  As the familiar banner asks: If not now, when?

There is a TV reality show on restaurant revival that is introduced with a premise that sounds like a good Advent theme.  “Turning around a failing restaurant or diner is a daunting challenge under the best of circumstances.  Attempting to do so …  may be impossible.  But we’re ready to take on the challenge.  Can it be done?”

From outdated décor to trendy interior, from canned food to fresh ingredients, from surly employees to service-oriented staff, they attempt to overhaul the whole shebang with straight talk, great cooking skills, creative interior decorators and an excited team of mostly volunteers.  The most important ingredient to the success of the project depends on the employees.  When the TV crew arrives, the expectation is that the local staff will be ready with their litany of what is going well and what they’d like to see changed.  They are looking for help to determine, and then implement the next best steps to be taken.

There is no pretense each week to portray the chef as a Christ figure, but one may see an analogy between our Advent Scriptures and the theme of this human example of this dramatic overhaul driven by someone who knows what they’re doing.  The overhaul of the run-down and failing restaurant, and our personal overhaul, is only possible if we’ll allow our goals and projects to be placed under wise management.  For us that’s Jesus, the One who’s coming to town in our Advent scriptures.

The Gospels that we’ll hear throughout the Advent season make frequent two-fold references to the already and the not yet.  This Sunday, Jesus berates the crowd for knowing how to interpret the signs in nature, but not the present time, the already.  This is where we, too, may fall short.  Often, even before one’s feet hit the floor, we tune in (or ask Alexia) for the day’s weather conditions, adjust the AC or heater and dress accordingly.  At the threat of a hurricane, we gather in supplies and hunker down.  We see the waxing moon and wait patiently for the night of the full moon.  This kind of waiting requires a common sense alertness to natural signs.  But the kind of waiting Jesus is talking about requires a deeper discernment and alertness to the signs of His appearance – the signs of the times, our times.

Advent offers us a new opportunity to awaken to the signs of the times.  In the words of John the Baptist, we hear the voice of Isaiah warning us to be alert for “the voice of one crying in the desert: Prepare the way of the Lord.”  The last Gospel we heard as the liturgical year ended (this morning) and the first Gospel for the new liturgical year impress upon us the same warning: Be vigilant! Pray always! Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy!

One of the ancient Advent prayers offers us sentiments that Benedict echoes in the Rule: “Give us grace that we may cast off the works of darkness and put upon us the armor of light.”  Many Advent hymns express this same theme.  For example (the hymn we sang on Friday) – “Wise and foolish, still we wait.  Is the bridegroom at the gate?  Clear the shadows from our sight, fill our eyes with radiant light.  Come, Lord Jesus, come!” 

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress

First Reading: Jeremiah 33:14-16                   Second Reading: 1 Thessalonians 3:12—4:2
Gospel Reading: Luke 21:25-28,34-36
Continue Reading

Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood

by 1 Comment

From this Gospel we sense that Jesus understands how difficult it is to wait.  You can feel Him “chomping at the bit” as he says to this disciple: I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!”  If Jesus felt that way over 2000 years ago, how would He feel with the world situation today???

The Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles remind us over and over to have patience in waiting: wait for the Spirit, wait for the one who will baptize, wait for the fire of the Spirit.  From the beginning of Jesus’ coming on earth He taught lessons in waiting.  Mary and Elizabeth waited nine long months for the birth of their babes.  The Holy Family waited three years in Egypt until it was safe to return to Nazareth.  Remember Simeon’s prayer of gratitude (that we recite at Compline) upon seeing Jesus with Mary and Joseph in the temple.  “Now, Lord – at last – I can die in peace for with my own eyes I have seen Your salvation.”  Jesus waited 30 years to begin his public ministry, his baptism by his cousin John.  He waited three days to respond to Lazarus’ sisters’ news that his friend had died.  He waited 3 years for His Father to declare it was the right time: time for His last supper with friends, time for betrayal and crucifixion, time to rest in a borrowed tomb until he would be raised from the dead.  He waited for the right time to reveal himself to Mary Magdalene in the garden and later to appear to the disciples and his mother Mary closeted in the upper room.  He waited 40 days for the time to ascend and take his place at the right hand of his father.

And, what do we do?  We tap our foot and mutter when we have to wait a few minutes in the grocery line, or for a red light to turn green, or for an elderly person to negotiate a curb or unfamiliar hallway; or move ahead in the food line at meal time; or hit “print” repeatedly on the computer thinking we can hurry it up.  With a minor adaptation of words in the St. Louis Jesuit’s hymn TRUST IN THE LORD, we should be singing: “Wait for the Lord, you shall not tire; wait for the Lord, you shall not weaken.  For the Lord’s own strength will uphold you, you shall renew your life and live.”

This Gospel is where Jesus reminds us that choosing to do good, to be good, requires on-going decision-making.  To do the right thing, the good thing, won’t always be easy.  Life isn’t conflict-free no matter how holy, easy-going or patient a person may be… living in a monastery can’t protect you.  We’re all still human, with human limitations.  But, we are followers of Jesus who said, “What makes you think I have come to establish peace?  I tell you I have come to sow division.”  He is alerting us to be prepared for difficult decisions; conflicts in life.

It’s good to get this reminder so when conflicts arise we don’t fret: “What did I do wrong?  Why doesn’t God fix this situation?”  Jesus is letting us know beforehand that He is right in the middle of the fray.”  Remember He said: “I have come to set the earth afire.”  He’s is telling us that when we make the decision to follow him, we may face opposition from some quarters, perhaps even from our peers, our family or friends.  He probably cheers us on when conflicts arise and He can foresee the peace of reconciliation coming down the pike.  Figuratively, if we engage the faucet, turn the nozzle, we have the hose that can put out the fire between us.  The ashes will remain.  Ah, but, out of the ashes will come new life: green plants, colorful flowers, and, yes – peace.  Our choices to act or bite our tongue, cool our jets and exercise patience do shape our future.  [If you are interested: this month’s Reader’s Digest has several stories illustrating how insightful, caring mentors change children’s lives.]

At the University’s Opening Mass on Monday, President Senese preempted one of my choices for this reflection when he quoted Robert Frost’s poem: “The Road Not Taken.”  You can probably recite some lines from your 8th grade memory: (edited here for my purpose)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And, sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler,
Long I stood and looked down one as far as I could
Then took the other, as having perhaps the better claim…

Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress
Continue Reading

First Sunday in Advent 2015

by Leave a Comment

waiting-on-god-bannerHAPPY NEW YEAR!  Welcome to the Year of Luke!  This year we celebrate the full cycle (minus one day) of Advent!  Just as a reminder of a piece of Catholic trivia ..  Advent begins on the Sunday closest to the Feast of St. Andrew … since the feast is on a Tuesday, the closest Sunday is before the feast.

The opening article in the most recent LCWR newsletter entitled: “What Do We Do While We’re Waiting?” reminded me of my 3-year-old niece who was patiently waiting through what her mom had told her was my private time with God.  She had lasted through her first lectio experience with her books for 40 minutes.  She sat just outside the doorway where I was, heaved a heavy sigh and said: “OK, what do I do now God; she’s still talking to You!”

Advent is all about waiting.  But not waiting for someone else who is talking to God.  Is it wonderful that we do not have to take turns – we don’t have to wait to be in touch!  Advent is active waiting – that is what is at the heart of it. Even when we don’t know that we are waiting, we’re waiting. Even when we can’t find words for what we are waiting for, we’re waiting.

One of the ancient Advent prayers supplies us with a sentiment that Benedict echoes: “Give us grace that we may cast off the works of darkness and put upon us the armor of light.”    Many Advent hymns express the same theme.  For example: “When the darkness closes in, courage fails and hopes grow dim, clear the shadows from our sight, set our troubled world aright, fill our eyes with radiant light.  Come Lord Jesus, come!

We are waiting not just at Advent, but at all times for the advent of light, that ultimate light that is redemptive and terrifying at the same time. It is redemptive because it puts an end to the darkness, and that is also why it is terrifying because the light reveals all that was hidden in the darkness.  For so long, actually for most of our lives, the darkness has been home.  We’ve become comfortable in our incompleteness.   Now to leave home is downright scary. Change my ways of interacting with God and God’s people?  Whew!  Allow my rough edges to be smoothed – mmmm, sounds irritating (no pun intended).  We are gifted with Advent time to do personal “Isaiah work” of filling in every valley; leveling every mountain so the hills will become a plain, and the rough country will be made smooth.  As the familiar banner asks:  If not now, when?

Have you ever watched, or heard about the reality shows Restaurant Impossible or American Diner Revival.  Depending on which show you’re watching there’s a well-known renovation contractor and/or a chef that comes to a failing restaurant or diner and helps turn it around.  The premise is this:

Turning around a failing restaurant or diner is a daunting challenge under the best of circumstances. Attempting to do it in less than 36 hours, even with the help of the townsfolk, may be impossible.  But they’re ready to take on the challenge.  Can it be done?

From outdated décor to hip interior, from canned food to fresh ingredients, from surly employees to service-oriented staff, they attempt to overhaul the whole shebang with straight talk, great cooking skills, innovative, creative interior decorators and an excited team of mostly volunteers.  But, most importantly, when the TV crew arrives, the expectation is that the local staff will be ready with their own litany of what is going well and what needs to change.

This chef is no Christ figure, but there is an analogy here between our Advent Scriptures and theme of this human example of a dramatic overhaul driven by someone who knows what he’s doing.  The overhaul of the dilapidated restaurant and our personal overhaul is only possible if we’ll allow our premises to be placed under new management.

That turns our attention on the person who’s coming to town in the Advent scriptures.  The Gospel from Luke connotes a double reference to the already and the not yet.  Jesus berates the crowd for knowing how to interpret the weather, but not the present time.  This is where we, too, may fall short.  We listen to the weather reports and dress accordingly.  We gather in supplies and hunker down for the onslaught of a hurricane.  We see the waxing moon and wait patiently for the night of the full moon.  Such waiting requires discernment and alertness to natural signs.  Waiting for Jesus’ presence requires a deeper discernment and alertness to the signs of His appearance – the signs of the times.  And, so we question: do our community Directional Goals reflect awareness of God in our midst –  as well as in the signs of the times and what is to come

The hymn I referenced earlier reminds us how foolish we can be to overlook signs of the coming Christ: “Wise and foolish, still we wait. Is our Bridegroom at the gate? At his voice, our hearts have stirred, listening for his healing word, confident our cries are heard. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Advent offers us time to waken to the signs of the times – Jesus, in the voice of Luke, reminds us we must remain on high alert awaiting the coming of the kingdom – it will be dramatic but that there will be little advance warning: “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed…  the kingdom of God is among you!   Remember:  “Heaven and earth will pass away, but God’s words will not pass away.”  The last Gospel we heard as the liturgical year ended (this morning) and the first Gospel for the New Year impress upon us the same warning: Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy!

                                                                                                       Reflection by S. Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress
Continue Reading