Showing posts with label Abbey Awe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abbey Awe. Show all posts

Saturday, April 12, 2025

Lenten Film Reflection | Facing Death w/ "Of Gods and Men"


"Of Gods and Men" 3-Minute Review

Throughout my career
I've met all sorts of different people.
Including Nazis ...
and even the devil.
I'm not scared of terrorists,
even less of the army.
And I'm not scared of death.
I'm a free man.

+ Fr. Luc
(see Of Gods and Men
Movie Review by Kenneth Turan)

In our rapid fire culture, the meditative rhythm "Of Gods and Men" is a stark counter that may seem slow at first. But give it time and you will be baptized, drop by drop, moment by moment, into a sublime cinematic experience that now brings me to tears. 

The story of serenity and sacrifice.
The soundtrack of psalms in French.
The Spirit who prevailed
in the spirits of these men
who showed the greatest love
Jesus spoke of:

Greater love has no one than this:
to lay down one’s life
for one’s friends
(John 15:13).

Br. Luc, one of the Cistercian Trappist monks of Tibhirine, shares about this love with a young women from their village in one of the film's opening scenes:

"Ever been in love?" 
the girl asks with gentle curiosity.
The old monk looks at her 
and replies with honest eyes, 
"Yes, several times. And then ... 
I encountered another Love, 
even greater.  
And I answered that Love." 
+ Br. Luc

I think it took me going to the Abbey of the Genesee and St. Mary's Monastery multiple times (see "Abbey Awe | Awakening to New Wonder"), and experiencing the presence and prayers of Benedictine monks (including Cistercian Trappists), to understand the power of this humble and loving community of Christ that these men were in Algeria in 1995 A.D. even as they faced execution by extremists.

So many of the words from this film about faithful and communal love resonate with me and help me embrace Ash Wednesday and Lent:

We are martyrs out of love, 
out of fidelity, if death overtake us, 
despite ourselves, 
because up to the end, 
up to the end we'll try to avoid it. 
Our mission here 
is to be brothers to all. 
Remember that love is eternal hope. 
Love endures everything. 
+ Br. Christian

This post could reflect on a multitude of themes and scenes, many of which others have done better at unveiling the depths of than I ever could. For an example, watch Bishop Barron on "Of Gods and Men" (SPOILERS). Or check out Christopher Page's "eight elements that make the film that make it a powerful and moving experience to view": a profound vision of corporate worship; a community filled with love; deeply felt humanity; life filled with beauty; simple orderly lives (prayer alone + prayer together and work alone + work together); deep witness to the peaceful presence of Christ; a strong and respectful portrait of Christian faith; and deep spirituality (read "Of Gods and Men" – The Gospel of Love, The Power of the Film #1 and #2).

But for today, I simply want to record the words from some crucial moments in the film where the monks went through their Benedictine liturgies via The Divine Office, which includes all 150 Psalms, canticles, orations, and readings from the Scriptures that shaped them to become like our sacrificial Savior in profound ways in the face of evil and murder. Profound ways that I pray and trust will continue to shape me as part of the community of Emmaus City Church.

Lauds 
The time and the spirit of Lauds recalls the resurrection, the dawn of the new day, a new creation, as Christ dispels the darkness. Our Savior and all of nature rise, and so do we in this great act of praise.
Lord, open my lips 
And my mouth 
will proclaim Your praise. 
+ Psalm 51:1  
 
Mass  
Every event in the monks' story is surrounded by worship. The monks’ lives flow into worship and their actions and words flow out of their worship. The words they chant in their worship are all from ancient sacred texts. But they are neither obscure nor archaic. The words of their chants speak profoundly to the events of their lives. After they hear the horrifying news of the slaughter of twelve Croatian workers at Tamesquida, the monks gather in their chapel and chant:
Because He is with us 
in this time of violence, 
Let us not dream that He is everywhere 
Other than where we die. 
Let us make haste, 
let us draw patience from Him. 
Let us to turn to the Man of Sorrows 
Who beckons us from the cross 
Because He is with us as on Easter morn. 
Let us not forgo the blood He shed. 
Let us break the bread. 
Let us drink from the chalice of passage. 
Let us greet the One who sacrificed Himself 
By loving us until the end. 
Their chant reassures them that, in the midst of a violent and horrifying world, they are not alone. The suffering of the world is held. They can enter into the familiar rituals of worship and find strength and comfort. This speaks to a deep human desire to acknowledge the reality of a transcendent power present and active in human affairs ... opening (our) hearts to the mystery of the divine. 
Through Him, with Him 
and in Him you shall receive, 
Almighty Father 
in the unity of the Holy Spirit 
All glory and honor, forever and ever.
+ In a Spacious Place  
 
Compline  
Just before bedtime, Compline is the prayer of the person aware of his weakness and sin, seeking the peace that is rest and protection in God. It is St. Benedict’s composition and, unlike the other offices, it begins with no call to prayer but with a blessing and with a Scripture passage that reminds all to be sober and watchful in the face of evil. This is followed by an examination of conscience and an act of contrition. We seem to join Christ in Gethsemane, and the themes of darkness (evil), light (God), and sleep (death) predominate, and we pray for a happy death. In contrition, petition and confidence, we cry out, “Do not forsake us, O Lord, our God.”

 

"Accepting our powerlessness and our extreme poverty is an invitation, an urgent appeal to create with others relationships not based on power. 
Recognizing my weaknesses, I accept those of others. I can bear them, make them mine, in imitation of Christ. Such an attitude transforms us for our mission. 
Weakness in itself is not a virtue but the expression of a fundamental reality which must constantly be refashioned by faith, hope, and love. 
The apostle's weakness is like Christ's rooted in the mystery of Easter and the strength of the Spirit. It is neither passivity nor resignation. It requires great courage and incites one to defend justice and truth and to denounce the temptation of force and power." 
+ Read Visual Parables: Of Gods and Men for more reflection on these considerations
  
Christmas Eve Mass  
Midnight Mass is the first liturgy of Christmastide that is celebrated on the night of Christmas Eve, traditionally beginning at midnight when Christmas Eve gives way to Christmas Day. This popular Christmas custom is a jubilant celebration of the mass in honor of the Nativity of Jesus. God came to us not through military strength or kingship, as was expected, but instead through poverty and childhood. 
Processing into the dark chapel to begin the Christmas service, the Cistercian Trappist monks sing this hymn, and in "Of Gods and Men," the youngest monk, Br. Christophe, gently places a figurine of the newborn Jesus into the manger scene. This gesture, and the hymn that the monks sing together in unison, is a reminder of the humility and vulnerability that characterize Christmas.

 

Once they (the extremists after one tense visit before the final kidnapping and killing) were gone, all we had left to do was live. 
And the first thing we did was – two hours later – we celebrated the Christmas vigil and mass. It's what we had to do. It's what we did. And we sang the mass. 
We welcomed that child who was born for us absolutely helpless and already so threatened. Afterwards, we found salvation in undertaking our daily tasks: The kitchen, the garden, the prayers, the bells. Day after day, we had to resist the violence. 
And day after day, I think each of us discovered that to which Jesus Christ beckons us: It's to be born. Our identities as men go from one birth to another. And from birth to birth, we'll each end up bringing to the world the child of God that we are. ... The incarnation, for us, is to allow the filial reality of Jesus to embody itself in our humanity. The mystery of incarnation remains what we are going to live. In this way, what we've already lived here takes root as well as what we're going to live in the future.  
+ Br. Christian

 

Often, we become so accustomed to the story of Jesus’ birth that we hardly recognize the very powerful lesson it tells us about the way God works: not through massive displays of power, but through the simplicity and poverty of His creation. The holiday of Christmas, the monks help us realize, is an acknowledgement that God’s Kingdom of peace, justice, and love will be achieved in very unexpected ways, by and through people about whom we usually don’t give a second thought. Born to a stigmatized mother in a forgotten town, his life threatened by a power-hungry king, Jesus was the definition of “marginalized.” Most people didn’t care about Him, and those that did wanted Him dead. Yet, it was He who became the most important bearer of God’s transformative love. No wonder the monks exude an aura of awe as they sing quietly in dim candlelight.   
And nothing exists 
Except Love which now begins ...
God has prepared earth like a cradle 
For His coming from above. 
This is the night, the
Happy night in Palestine 
And nothing exists except the Child, 
Except the Child of life Divine 
By taking flesh of our flesh,
God our desert did refresh 
And made a land of boundless Spring. 
+ Read Christus Paradox: Reflections on “Of Gods and Men” for more reflection on these considerations   

 

Infinite Love, 
You do have a heart 
For You seek the prodigal son 
And hold against Your breast 
This troublesome child 
Which is the world of mortals. 
We do not see Your face, 
Infinite Love, 
But You do have eyes  
For You weep through the oppressed 
And look upon us 
With a shining gaze 
That reveals Your forgiveness.

I take these words with me this spring and fall as I get to return to the Abbey of the Genesee again, with fellow ministers and spiritual leaders and then with my family. And may the words above also go with you during this Lenten season.




More Monastic Posts: 

Christ is all,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan

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Thursday, May 30, 2024

Abbey Awe | God Moves Thru Unlikely Saints Again (& Again)

 

St. Benedict of Nursia Block Print by Kreg Yingst

Let them first pray together
that so they may associate
in peace.

+ The Rule of St. Benedict

Look at the face of above. Not necessarily one that would be highlighted very often or looked to for joy and refreshment today. He seems a little too sober. A little too somber. And yet, God worked wonders of refreshment and innovation through this humble person who taught that, "The first degree of humility is prompt obedience."

This post is intended to provide a brief history of how God moved through St. Benedict and others who followed Jesus via discipleship along the lines of The Rule of St. Benedict not once, but twice in the past 2,000 years to bring renewal and healing to Jesus' Church during times when God's people were becoming corrupted by power, apathy, laziness, and greed.

As I've shared before, I have continued to be encouraged and awakened with awe and adoration by my times at Benedictine Abbeys, some of my favorite "thin spaces" these past 5+ years. During this year's spring retreat at St. Mary's Monastery, a community of Roman Catholic Benedictine monks living a contemplative monastic life in Petersham, Massachusetts, I read to participants from Congregational, Pentecostal, Presbyterian, Anglican, Baptist, and Reformed backgrounds the stories below from Michael Frost's wonderful book, Mission is the Shape of Water: Learning from the Past to Inform Our Role in the World Today. We were encouraged together then and I hope you will be encouraged with us now as you consider how:

It is the paradox of history 
that each generation
is converted by the saint
who contradicts it most.

+ G. K. Chesterton


The Flame Ignites Again in 500 A.D.

After all the effectiveness of the Celtic mission, Europe could (still) fall back into darkness. The "spreading flame" F.F. Bruce spoke of had dwindled to a barely flickering light ...

(But then) The Benedictines emerged from the ministry of St. Benedict. He was the son of a Roman nobleman from Nursia in the Italian province of Perugia and was sent to study in Rome, possibly around 500. However, Benedict found the city a hotbed of licentiousness, drunkenness, and violence. A devout man of deep spirituality, he was disgusted by the breakdown of civil society and retreated to a cave beside the lake near the ruins of Nero's palace above Subiaco. There is no evidence he intended to establish a monastic order. He was effectively a hermit, living in his cave for three years, provided with food and robes by Romanus, a monk of one of the nearby monasteries.

These were frightening and confusing 
times for Christians. 
The papacy behaved more 
like a small state than Jesus' Church, 
offering little spiritual guidance to the people. 
Christians felt as though the world was ending. 
When news spread of a saintly, flame-bearing
hermit living in a cave about forty miles
east of Rome, people began making
pilgrimages to the site to learn from
and be blessed by Benedict.

Eventually, Benedict was persuaded
to become an abbot
of a more traditional monastery,
each with twelve monks ...
It seemed as though Benedict
was the only light in the midst
of the dark chaos caused by
the final fall of Rome.

Later still, Benedict traveled south, followed by a few disciples, to a pagan district about halfway between Rome and Naples. There, on a steep hill above Cassino, he preached the Gospel and saw many people converted. Eventually, this would become the site of the Benedictine motherhouse at Monte Cassino, where he would formalize the rhythm of life for his monastic communities: the Rule of St. Benedict.

The Rule specifies rhythms, principles, and practices of a Benedictine monastery. It contains a list of seventy-two spiritual tools, based on various biblical and traditional sources:

+ The Lord's Two Great Commandments
+ Ten Commandments
+ Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy
+ Golden Rule
+ Cardinal (Deadly) Sins
+ Theological Virtues

as well as other guiding principles, such as humility, suffering for the Kingdom, and loving one's enemy. It also outlines the day-to-day life of the community, including the Divine Office, prayer times, sleep times, meals and clothing.

Life in southern Italy
was so chaotic, so licentious, so immoral
that a rule like this was seen as a falme
that provided light, warmth, and guidance
in the midst of the darkness of the times.

Cistercians Rekindle the Flame in 1100 A.D.

The Benedictines would burst into flame again, taking back Western Europe and bringing revival and restoration to society. By the turn of the first millennium, corruption had found its way into Benedictine monasteries and was well advanced. In 1098, a Benedictine abbot, Robert of Molesme, could stand it no longer. His monastery in Burgundy had fallen into spiritual decline, with most monks abandoning the Benedictine Rule. Robert, along with about twenty supporters, left his monastery and moved to a plot of marshland just south of Dijon called Cîteaux, intending to establish a truly Benedictine community. Cîteaux means "reed" in Old French. Robert chose to use the Latin version of this term, cistercium, naming his new community the Cistercians.

Embracing a form of asceticism, these bearers of the flame sought to be purified and strengthened for a lifelong labor of prayer. They refused to accept any feudal revenues, believing them to be sullied by the church's collusion with the state ... they soon came to distinguish themselves from the monks of unreformed Benedictine communities by wearing white tunics instead of black. A white Benedictine or Cistercian was considered the holiest of all monks.

By 1111, the new abbot of the Cistercians, Stephen Harding (an extraordinary man in his own right), embarked on an expansion program to start Cistercian monasteries across Europe. That year, Harding commissioned a group of monks, led by Bernard de Fontaine — a nobleman who had taken holy orders at the age of twenty-two, just four years earlier — to start a new monastery in Clairvaux. A supremely eloquent and strong-willed mystic, Bernard of Clairvaux was to become the most admired churchman of his age. 

As with Benedict before him,
the flame of Bernard's passion
drew young people —  
particularly those who were seeking
a better way than the Church
was offering them at the time ...
Daughter houses and monasteries
were founded across France, 
into England and beyond.

The Cistercians under Bernard
took seriously Benedict's words
in the forty-eighth chapter of the Rule,
which states,
"For then are they monks in truth,

The work of their hands? Monks were meant to be known for being devoted to prayer and study, not work. Nonetheless, taking Benedict at his word, the Cistercians introduced manual labor for monks as a principal feature of their common life and the primary means of their financial support (since they refused to accept any filthy lucre from the state). They came to embody the Benedictine motto, ora et labora — "pray and work." For the Clairvaux community, the working part wasn't simply about funding the monastery; they worked in their fields for God! 

You might not think it, 
but this simple idea —
that a monk should express
piety through work —
would change European society
forever.

 For a zealous monk, prayer is an offering to the divine; the primary expression of devotion to God. Monks were taught to pray before dawn until after sunset. But now, the Cistercians added work as a true mark of godly devotion. And if they were to embrace manual labor as a way to express their love for God, they would inevitably work as devoutly as they prayed. And if work was part of religious vocation, then — also inevitably — they'd work extremely hard and for long hours.

The idea of manual labor as an act of consecration turned the Cistercians into lean, hardworking men. They worked as tirelessly as they prayed. A monk's life consisted of about three hours in church at the Divine Office; five hours devoted to manual labor; and two or three hours given over to biblical study. The exact number of hours changed according to the seasons of the year, both natural and liturgical, but the three-part rhythm of worship-work-study was maintained throughout the year.

The Cistercians reclaimed 
unwanted or marginal land 
and worked it constantly, 
turning fallow, useless dirt paddocks 
into productive fields.

In the process, they created a large, disciplined, unpaid labor force. And, as a monastic order, they were free from the tariffs and taxes imposed by feudal lords, so their business enterprises — whether wheat, wool, or beer — were remarkably profitable. They didn't pay conventional wages to their monks (workers), and they weren't taxed by the state. Nearly every cent they made was profit; and this in turn helped finance the founding of even more monasteries. With the proceeds from their agricultural ventures, and a steady stream of young men now signing up to the order, Bernard rolled out Cistercian monasteries across Europe. No other religious body had grown so large so quickly. By the time of his death in 1153, Bernard had directly founded sixty-eight monasteries and overseen the establishment of another 270 monasteries from Sweden to Portugal and from Scotland to the eastern Mediterranean.

The monks, often drawn from the educated families of Europe, began experimenting with new and innovative farming techniques, hydraulic engineering, and metallurgy. They developed the use of large waterwheels for power and an elaborate water circulation system for central heating. They instigated new approaches to transportation, fermentation, and harvesting crops. These techniques were adopted by other farmers in central Italy, southern France, Spain, and the Netherlands. As a result, all of Europe experienced a massive economic boom in the twelfth century. Some of these techniques are still in practice today.

Five hundred years after Benedict's death, 
and three hundred after 
the decline of his order,
the Cistercians had not only revitalize
Benedictine monastic life
but had also altered the world
as many Europeans experienced it.

They truly lit a flame
that spread into the far reaches
of the Western world,
bringing dramatic change to society.

+ pgs. 45-49, Chapter 3: Flame Bearing in

Bonus:

Why is St. Benedict often pictured
with a raven?

Saint Benedict is often depicted with a raven because of a story in The Life and Miracles of St. Benedict by Pope Gregory the Great. The story is about how Benedict, while living as a hermit in the wilderness, would feed a raven that lived in the forest near his monastery. One day, when Benedict was about to eat poisoned bread given to him by an envious priest, the raven swooped down and snatched it away. Benedict then called on the raven to take the bread somewhere safe so that no one would be harmed.

Bonus Benedictine Stories:


Abbey + Saint + Revival Posts:  
+ Awakening to New Wonder in Vigils
+ Finding God in a Thin Place
+ Facing Death w/ "Of Gods & Men"  
+ Saintly Swagger in Story of God   
+ Revival: Unfettered in Small Things
+ Presence & Prayer for Renewal  
+ In Our Time: Not Far from God
With presence and peace in Christ,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan

Email Pastor Mike | Website | Visit Us | Support Us | Facebook Us

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Location: Worcester, MA, USA

Tuesday, October 10, 2023

Abbey Awe | Finding a Thin Place w/ God in a Thick Existence




A thin place is any environment that invites transformation in us, helping us as believers in Jesus to think and see and understand as He does. Any place that creates a space and atmosphere that inspires us to be honest before God and to listen to the deep murmurings of His Spirit within us is thin. ... It is where the dividing line between heaven and earth seems thin ...  + Tracy Balzer, Thin Places


As I've shared before on this blog as well as with many of you I get to call friends and family, the Abbey of the Genesee in upstate New York has become a thin place for me, a haven I get to return to in order to: 


And while Psalm 126 has been anchored into my soul during previous visits, this time, Psalm 131 was my focus during the Fall of 2023:

O LORD, my heart is not proud 
nor haughty my eyes. 
I did not go after things too great 
nor marvels beyond me.
Truly, I set my soul 
in silence and peace.
A weaned child on its mothers' breast,
even so is my soul.
O Israel, hope in the LORD
both now and forever.

I read this again and again in the sanctuary of the monastery at the Abbey of the Genesee between the hours of None and Vespers (2-5:30 p.m.). That sanctuary, focused on the Benedictine rhythms of prayer, has become a thin place for me. Tracy Balzer speaks to the necessity of finding such a place to experience peace and solitude for meditating on God's words in the midst of a "thick existence" in her wonderful book, Thin Places:

I find it extremely difficult to pay attention to God. There are too many voices calling for my attention. Too often I am over-committed and have too many obligations. I am tempted by the lure of consumerism and accumulation of things. I feel that the circumstances of my life are out of control. There is just too much of everything. It's as if I have spiritual claustrophobia. Everywhere in my life is a "thick place." ... 
And in such a crowded "thick" existence ... God patiently waits until we make the intentional choice to do some housecleaning and make some space for Him, both in the literal sense of adjusting our physical environment, and in the soul-sense of bringing all our faculties to His attention. Visiting and re-visiting the thin places of our lives is one of the best ways to do this.

The photo above captures some of the serenity and peace I recently experienced during my annual retreat to the Abbey of the Genesee, where once again earth seemed closer to heaven, anamcharas ("soul friends") were made anew or strengthened from previous monastery retreats together, and prayer, silence, and solitude helped bring clarity to some of the clanging of my mind, heart, and life. 

The work to wait and be still is a good one and reminds me of this conversation between the author and a monk in Sue Monk Kidd's When the Heart Waits:

"I saw you today sitting beneath the tree — just sitting there so still. How is it that you can wait so patiently in the moment. I can't seem to get used to the idea of doing nothing." 
The monk broke into a wonderful grin. "Well, there's the problem right there, young lady. You've bought into the cultural myth that when you're waiting you're doing nothing." 
Then he took his hands and placed them on my shoulders, peered straight into my eyes and said, "I hope you'll hear what I'm about to tell you. I hope you'll hear it all the way down to your toes ... 
When you're waiting, you're not doing nothing. You're doing the most important something there is. You're allowing your soul to grow up. If you can't be still and wait, you can't become what God created you to be.

Amber and Seth Haines also capture beautifully in their recent book, The Deep Down Things, why monastery retreats have proven to be essential places for waiting for me, anchors in the storms of my life these past 5 years:

In The Power of Silence, Cardinal Robert Sarah writes of the human need to flee from the noisy world and connect with God. This need is memorialized in the monastic tradition through the Latin term fuga mundi, which means "flight from the world." Of fuga mundi, he writes "It means an end of the turmoil, the artificial lights, the sad drugs of noise and the hankering to possess more and more goods, so as to look at heaven. A man who enters the monastery seeks silence in order to find God. He wants to love God above all else, as his sole good and his only wealth." 
Monasteries are for silence, for finding God and ultimately for discovering love that silences internal turmoil.
+ Amber and Seth Haines 

This post features some reflections from Tracy Balzer's Thin Places on the categories above for anyone who might be curious about finding such a place in this moment in your life. Tracy invites us to:

Listen for the voice of God in your life.  
Ask questions about where you’re seeing God at work.  
Consider all the ways He has met you and sustained you: through prayer, sacrament, the Word, community, the mind, and in special relationships. ... 
Our Christian forefathers and mothers tell us that God is so very near that in some of His creation there is barely a film between Him and us.  
"Surely the LORD is in this place, and I did not know it."
+ Genesis 28:16

 



Thin Places | From Earth to Heaven

Is this place really nearer to God?  
Is the wall thin between our whispers  
And His listening? … 
I am not sure whether there is no time here  
Or more time, whether the light is stronger  
Or just easier to see. 
That is why I keep returning, thirsty, to this place  
That is older than my understanding,  
Younger than my broken spirit. 
+ “Iona” by Kenneth Steven

A life characterized by regular, uninhibited connection with God takes practice and many seasons of what the classical faith writers call “consolation” (a sense of God’s nearness) and “desolation” (a sense of His distance). We discover this in still moments where we can stop, wait, watch, and listen.

God be with thee in every pass,  
Jesus be with thee on every hill,  
Spirit be with thee on every stream,  
Headland and ridge and lawn;  
Each see and land, each moor and meadow,  
Each lying down, each rising up. 
In the trough of the waves, on the crest of the billows,  
Each step of the journey thou goest.  
+ Celtic Blessing  
 
I have seen You in the sanctuary 
and beheld Your power and Your glory. 
+ Psalm 63:2


 

Anamchara | From Soul to Soul

Where is Jesus in my life?  
What is He calling me to? 
What is He saying that I am not hearing? 

I have found that these are questions I cannot answer on my own, for my own subjectivism and personal frailties tend to get in the way of seeing clearly. 

to bring clarity to the murky waters of daily life. 

These questions above are always asked in humility before each other, before the Spirit of God, and before the Word of God. 

Remember that the soul friend is not one who bestows knowledge and expertise on another, but is instead one who helps another listen to the voice of God in their life: “Lord, help me see her/his heart.”

He who walks with the wise grows wise; 
but a companion of fools suffers harm.  
+ Proverbs 13:20 

Prayer | From Ordinary to Extraordinary

All of our experiences, actions, words, and various combinations thereof can be prayer. This is why it is indeed possible to pray without ceasing. 

The Apostle Paul is not telling me I must talk to God all the time; he is, as Henri Nouwen suggests, telling me to “think, speak and live in the presence of God” all day. 

The Celts learned this concept from the early desert Christians, who practiced anamnesis: the “conscious, prayerful remembrance of God, the continuing sense of God’s presence throughout the day as one works, prays, eats, talks, and rests."

And I pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.  
+ Ephesians 6:18



 

Silence and Solitude | From Chaos to Clarity

In the end it is the action of God that propels one forward toward Christlikeness. The process of our own spiritual transformation to become new creatures in Christ is a very slow but beautiful process, one that requires stillness and patient waiting. 

Resurrection is always God’s doing. 

Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self. Retreating for a period of time from ringing phones, burgeoning email boxes, to-do lists, and obligations gives God some space to do what He wants to do with us. It helps us remember that the Sabbath was meant to be a day of rest, a time to step away from all that convinces us that we are indispensable to the world and to be assured that we are in the hands of God.

In repentance and rest is your salvation, 
in quietness and trust is your strength.  
+ Isaiah 30:15
Excerpts above from Tracy Balzer's Thin Places


Bonus excerpt from Holy Unhappiness, 
which I also read in the Abbey sanctuary:

"The Theater of God is in the hidden corners," John Calvin once said. The humility of hiddenness is an unfamiliar virtue not only to the ancient Greeks. It is unfamiliar to me. But when I am really, truly quiet, God calls me there. To that secret place, the place where I hear Him whisper: You are always with Me. All I have is yours (Luke 15:31). And it is more than enough. 
+ Amanda Held Opelt


Bonus Abbey Awe + Thin Place Posts: 

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