Bryan Sherwood

Final Thoughts

It's Sunday, the last day of my retreat at St. Meinrad's.  It's been a really good experience.  There are a few things that strike me about St. Meinrad's.  First, the number of young monks.  Unfortunately, that's something you just don't see much of at Gethsemani at this point in time.  Yet, there's a good percentage of the monk population here in their 20's, 30's and 40's.  It certainly gives the monastery a certain energy that it wouldn't have if all the monks were elderly.

I also experienced a part of the Rule of Saint Benedict that I'd never actually seen put into practice.  On two different occasions, as the choir monks were leaving after prayer, a monk knelt before the community as they filed past him.  I realized right away that he had probably committed some kind of offense.  Benedict talks about this and I found out from Br. Terrence that this is called "doing culpa" (culpa means "fault.")   Br. Terrence told me that one of the monks had intoned a hymn too low and evidently felt as though he should do culpa because of it.  So, that was interesting.  It also intrigues me that I've never seen that practiced that way at Gethsemani.  I wonder why?

One last comment before I run off to Lauds.  This monastery understands hospitality.  The monks are very open and willing to interact with visitors.  My favorite part is the monk who is assigned to assist guests during the divine office.  He passes out the bookletts for each of the hours of prayer.  If for some reason, you need to pick up another book to sing a Psalm or hymn, he walks around holding a card with the appropriate hymn number or page number written on it.  He answers any questions you may have (like why is that monk kneeling?).  What I like best about their hospitality is the feeling they want you to participate with them.  That kind of Benedictine hospitality is a lesson we can all probably learn.

That's it for now.  I do miss all you people back home and can't wait to see you.  Pax.

The Intimacy of the Table

The Priory met at our home today. That means Heather and I cooked food, the rest of the group brought more food and we spent a good amount of time at the table, sharing life with each other. Not real complicated, huh? Oh, and we prayed the morning office together too. There was even a little chanting that went on. All in all, a very good time.

Last week, in one of Henri Nouwen's Daily Meditations, I read this:

The table is one of the most intimate places in our lives. It is there that we give ourselves to one another. When we say, "Take some more, let me serve you another plate, let me pour you another glass, don't be shy, enjoy it," we say a lot more than our words express. We invite our friends to become part of our lives. We want them to be nurtured by the same food and drink that nurture us. We desire communion. That is why a refusal to eat and drink what a host offers is so offensive. It feels like a rejection of an invitation to intimacy.

Strange as it may sound, the table is the place where we want to become food for one another. Every breakfast, lunch, or dinner can become a time of growing communion with one another.

Very true, I think. It takes work and time to give ourselves to one another. In the end, it's worth it. Peace.

Let All Guests That Come . .

Let all guests that come be received like Christ. (Rule of St. Benedict)

Monks know about hospitality. They live it day in and day out. They are hospitable when it's not convenient. They practice hospitality with their brothers in the community and with those "seculars" who come for retreat or seek counsel. I'm learning that I have a lot to learn about that kind of hospitality. The kind of hospitality that allows people "in" our life. In Benedict's time, travelers often needed a place to stay for the night. After all, there weren't any Hilton Hotels around in that day. I'd imagine it was a common thing to feed and care for people as they traveled. Hospitality would have been "normal." I wonder why it's not a "normal" part of our lives today? (Or perhaps I'm alone in this?) To be honest, it's difficult, time-consuming, expensive and inconvenient to practice hospitality. Yet, it's part of being whole. I'm not sure we can be healthy and whole without it.

Hospitality is the overflowing of a heart that has to share what it has received. It takes a whole person to open up, it takes a secure person to be available, it takes a strong person to give yourself away. (p. 20, Radical Hospitality)

Hospitality is about me learning to open my heart. Again, a quote from Radical Hospitality:

Here is the core of hospitality: May I know you better? Will you come closer, please? No, it will not be easy, but make no mistake about it, your life depends on this saving stranger coming to you and stretching your tight little heart. (p. 36)

Maybe this is the time of my life to learn this lesson. Let's hope so.

Peace.